Aristoteles. - Aristotle. - Halper, Edward C. - Aristotle-One and Many in Aristotle's Metaphysics. - Books Alpha-Delta-Parmenides Publishing (2009)

One and Many in Aristotles Metaphysics
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One and Many in

Aristotles Metaphysics
B o o k s
A l p h aD e l t a
EDWARD C. HALPER
Las Vegas | Zurich | Athens
PARMENIDES PUBLISHING
Las Vegas | Zurich | Athens
2009 Parmenides Publishing
All rights reserved.
Published 2009
Printed in the United States of America
ISBN: 978-1-930972-21-6
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Halper, Edward C., 1951
One and many in Aristotles Metaphysics, books alpha-delta / Edward
C. Halper.

p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN-13: 978-1-930972-21-6 (hardcover : alk. paper)
ISBN-10: 1-930972-21-0 (hardcover : alk. paper)
1. Aristotle. Metaphysics. Book 1-4. 2. One (The One in philosophy)
3. Many (Philosophy) I. Title.
B434.H36 2009
110dc22

2008024384
Typeset in Palatino and OdysseaUBSU (Greek) by 1106 Design
Printed by Edwards Brothers in the United States of America
1-888-PARMENIDES
www.parmenides.com
to my parents,
Robert and Audrey Halper
Contents
Analytical Table of Contents
Abbreviations
Glossary
Introduction
xi
xxv
xxvii
xxxv
Chapter 1 The Problem and the Method

1.1 An Overview
1.1.1 Metaphysics and the One
1.1.2 Aristotles Solution
1.1.3 The Solution in the Text
1.2 The Problem
1.3 The Method
1.4 The Literature
1.4.1 Treatments of the One/Many Problem
1.4.2 Problems in A-
1
1
1
7
14
20
31
43
43
48
Chapter 2 The Ways of Being One

2.1 Pollachos Legomena
2.1.1 An Alternative Argument for the Three-Component

Analysis
2.1.2 Applying the Three-Component Analysis to Metaphysics :

Real and Non-Categorial Essences
2.1.3 The Ways Being Is Said
2.2 6: The Ways One Is Said
2.2.1 Accidental Ones (1015b1636)
2.2.2 Continuity (1015b361016a17)
2.2.3 Sensible Substrate (1016a1724)
2.2.4 Generic Substrate (1016a2432)
2.2.5 Indivisible in Formula (1016a32b6)
2.2.6 Aristotles Summary (1016b611)
2.2.7 The Whole (1016b1117)
2.2.8 Other Treatments of One: Metaphysics I 1 and Physics A 2
2.3 The Essence of One and Its Functions
2.4 The Series of Ones (1016b231017a3)
2.5 Same
2.6 Summary
53
53
66
72
83
86
92
99
105
110
118
125
129
131
135
145
149
Chapter 3 The Principles of Metaphysics: Books A and

3.1 Wisdom and the Wise: A 12
3.1.1 A 1: Natural Desire for Knowledge
3.1.2 A 2: The Characteristics of the Wise
153
154
154
164
60
viii
CONTENTS
3.2 The Number of Causes: A 37

3.3 Critique of the Causes: A 810
3.3.1 A 8
3.3.2 A 9: Aristotles Arguments Against the Forms
3.3.2.1 Doubling
3.3.2.2 The More and Less Accurate Arguments for the Forms
3.3.2.3 Forms as Causes
3.4 Book : Infinite Causes, First Causes, and the Existence

of Metaphysics
169
179
179
180
181
186
192
196
Chapter 4 Book B: The Aporiai

4.1 Unity Language: A Paradigm
4.2 The Unity of the Subject Matter
4.2.1 Many Sciences
4.2.2 One Science
4.2.3 Aporia Five
4.2.4 The Possibility of Metaphysics
4.3 The Unity of a Principle
4.4 Candidates for the First Principle
4.5 Metaphysical Method
4.5.1 The Platonic Origin of the Aporiai
4.5.2 The Assumption about Unity
4.5.3 The Logic of the Aporiai
205
216
220
220
226
235
238
241
261
270
270
274
280
Chapter 5 Book : The Unity of Being

5.1 The Subject Matter of Metaphysics
5.1.1 1: A Science of Being
5.1.2 Argument One ( 2, 1003a33b19): The Causes
5.2 Being qua Being
5.3 Arguments Two and Three: Ousiai
5.3.1 Argument Two (1003b1922)
5.3.2 Argument Three (1003b221004a2)
5.3.3 1004a29
5.4 Arguments Four, Five, and Six: Per Se Attributes
5.4.1 Argument Four (1004a931)
5.4.2 Argument Five (1004a31b25)
5.4.3 Argument Six (1004b271005a18)
5.5 Argument Seven (1005a19b8): Principles of Demonstration
5.6 Being as the Subject of Metaphysics
5.7 Being and One
5.8 The Principles of Reasoning
5.9 Arguments for Non-Contradiction
5.9.1 Arguments 12: 1006b1134
5.9.2 Arguments 35: 1006b341008a2
289
291
293
297
307
326
326
333
341
353
354
371
379
390
395
401
405
420
425
432
CONTENTS
5.9.3 Arguments 68: Contradiction in Speech

5.9.4 Arguments 910: Contradiction in Action
5.9.5 5: Universal Extension
5.9.5.1 The Argument from Change
5.9.5.2 The Argument from Sensation
5.9.5.3 Heraclitus Argument
5.9.6 6: Relatives
5.9.7 7: The Principle of the Excluded Middle
5.9.8 Non-Contradiction as a Principle of Knowledge
5.10 Conclusion of Book
ix
440
443
445
447
449
451
454
455
457
459
Chapter 6 Book Again
463
Chapter 7 Metaphysics: Universal or Special

7.3 The Nature of Metaphysics
471
473
478
490
Bibliography
507
Index
515
Analytical Table of Contents

1 Chapter 1 The Problem and the Method
1.1 An Overview
This section explains why the problem of the one and the manyare all things
one or many?is intrinsic to metaphysics as Aristotle conceives of it. The argument turns on his remarks on architectonic sciences in the ethics and politics,
on Platos similar formulations of the problem of the highest science, and on
Aristotles frequent references to the problem of the one and the many in its
various guises.
This section sketches Aristotles solution to the problem of the one and many,
that is, the problem of how there can be a metaphysics and what it is that this
science knows. It sets out the principal thesis and results of this study for the
present volume and also, more briefly, for the two succeeding ones.
One of the claims in this book is that Aristotles text is, for the most part, a carefully constructed and cogent set of arguments that work together to support
his conclusions. This section shows how the text of the Metaphysics makes a
case for the solution presented in 1.1.2.
1.2 The Problem
The problem of the one and the many is central for Aristotles philosophical predecessors. Although he himself does not regard it as a single problem, he uses it in
many of his works as a method of determining the nature that the work explores.
Once the nature is defined, the one/many issue recedes. In the Metaphysics, the
problem takes its most general form: are all things one or many? Aristotle uses
this question to explore whether there are causes or natures common to all beings,
but ultimately it takes a back seat to his doctrine of being. However, the problem
is important because Aristotle uses it to argue for his metaphysical doctrines. It
holds a special place in metaphysical inquiry.
1.3 The Method
The two prevailing methods used to interpret the Metaphysics have been developmentalism and what I call the Aristotle at work approach. Both emphasize
the dynamic character of Aristotles engagement with philosophical problems,
but neither has the resources to choose between competing interpretations of
particular texts. My innovation is to introduce the problem of the one and the
many as a guiding thread through which to understand and evaluate the dynamic
of Aristotles thought.
xi
xii
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS
1.4 The Literature

So little has appeared in the literature about the problem of the one and
the many in the Metaphysics that, instead of the usual literature survey, this
section considers why scholars have neglected it. It suggests that they have
been deterred by two assumptions about the one: (1) that it is characteristic
of Platonic form and therefore not properly Aristotelian, and (2) that one is
nearly identical with being so that any treatment of the latter is also a treatment of the former.
The two most important scholarly issues in Metaphysics A- are: (1) what method
does Aristotle use to arrive at and justify his conclusions? and (2) what are the
relations between metaphysics and the particular sciences and between its subject matter and theirs? A third important issue is how Aristotle can argue for
the principle of non-contradiction (PNC). This volume will address all three.
2 Chapter 2 The Ways of Being One
One is said in many ways. It is necessary to explore these ways because Aristotle
often does not indicate which one he is using. This chapter follows Aristotles most
detailed discussion in 6.
This section argues that when Aristotle claims a term is said in many ways he
means to say that many things are called by the same term in respect of different
definitions of those things. My case depends on arguing against interpreting the
phrase as either a description of linguistic usage or a designation of things and
in favor of a three-component analysis: things, term, and definitions.
2.1.1 An Alternative Argument for the Three-Component Analysis
Joseph Owens also argues for a three-component analysis based on the opening
chapter of the Categories, but his argument has been disputed from passages
in the Topics and the Metaphysics that discuss cases where things are named
non-equivocally by a term said in many ways. This section defends the threecomponent analysis by showing how it makes possible the middle ground
between what is equivocally and univocally named.
2.1.2 A
pplying the Three-Component Analysis to Metaphysics : Real and
Non-Categorial Essences
The three-component analysis seems to be at odds with Metaphysics because
what is discussed there does not fall under a single categorial genus and
therefore cannot have a real essence or definition. More than a problem for the
three-component analysis, this is a serious metaphysical problem. However,
Aristotle clearly recognizes that, at least, some of the terms discussed in
do signify things with non-categorial essences. Hence, the three-component
analysis does apply to book .
Although the categories are mentioned most often in descriptions of the ways
being is said, they constitute but one of three schemata of per se beings. The
others are true/false and actuality/potentiality. Since the same things are called
xiii
beings in respect of more than one schema, the schemata cannot be genera of
beings. This section argues that Aristotles characterization of these schemata
amounts to definitions and that, consequently, the three-component analysis
applies to the ways being is said. A thing is called a being because it has
some character, because that character is fully or less than fully realized, or
because it exists.
Commentators have distinguished between one-place and two-place ways that
one is said. This section argues that this distinction is subsidiary to the question
of how some particular thing is one, for we could not have two things that were
one unless each of them were itself one, nor could we consider whether two components constitute one thing unless it is clear what it is to be one thing. Aristotle
reserves same for two-place uses of one; hence, the schemata of 6 should
be understood as one-place uses.
A composite of accidental attributes and an ousia is accidentally one. It is clear
that the composite is some sort of conjunction and that it is one because the
substrate ousia is one. A more precise account of the unity of ousia and attributes
does not seem possible.
2.2.2 Continuity (1015b361016a17)
Something is continuous if its motion is indivisible in time. Aristotle gives two
criteria that distinguish the more from the less continuous, but he does not
show how they work together. This section considers how to understand these
criteria and shows how they suggest a schema of types of continuity.
Some single thing is one in sensible substrate if its substrate is indivisible in
respect of sensation. The claim here is that the character of a things matter makes
it be one because matter gives it its nature and identity. The character of the
matter seems to be fundamental because it is a bedrock character that the thing
could not lose. Aristotle distinguishes proximate and ultimate sensible substrates
as a schema of this type of unity. Making sense of this distinction requires
developing a notion of relative divisibility at which the text only hints.
A genus makes a thing one insofar as the thing is a single instance of it. A careful
examination of the text shows that Aristotle intends one by generic substrate
to be primarily a unity of individual things or species. Aristotle suggests a
schema of proximate and ultimate generic substrates, but he does not explain
it nor does he decide which is more one.
Something is indivisible in formula if its formula cannot be divided into
another formula that expresses what the thing is. Formulae of composites can
be divided into constituent formulae, one of which express the ousia. Hence, only
undivided entities can have indivisible formulae. Although genus, a species,
and an individual could each be one in formula, the individual or, in general,
what is undivided in time and place as well as formula is most one in formula.
Aristotle has an ordered schema of ones that are indivisible in formula.
xiv

The summary statement considered in this section looks like it asserts that
other things are called one by their relation to a primary one; this would be
the pros hen doctrine of one. Arguing against this and other interpretations,
this section proposes that the primary ones are the primary instances of the
three per se ones and that the secondary ones are the other instances of the
schemata of these per se ones.
2.2.7 The Whole (1016b1117)
Things are called one by being a whole if they are both one in substrate
and one by continuity. These two types of one both depend on matter. Other
combinations of per se ones that would require unity in matter and unity in
form are excluded.
Aristotles two other treatments of the ways one is said do not add anything
to what appears in 6. Physics A 2 identifies three primary ones that appear
to be the three discussed in 6. I 1 provides a more systematic treatment than
6 that, probably drawing on the results of the central books, omits both
substrates.
Aristotle defines the essence of one ( ) by mentioning three of its functions, to be indivisible, to be the principle of knowledge, and to be the principle
of number. Elsewhere, he also speaks of one as the principle of contrariety. Each
of these functions belongs not to some one itself, but to some thing that is one.
Indivisibility can be qualitative or quantitative, and each of these includes a series
not of things that are one but of types of unity. This section explores the characterization of these series and their relation to the things said to be one. It rejects
a strict identification of the series with the per se ways of being one and proposes
instead that the series be understood as explicating the essence of one.
2.5 Same
Aristotles discussion of same provides further support for taking one to
apply primarily to individual things and for the three-component analysis. This
section considers what Aristotle means by the term oneness (), and it
argues against the possibility of there being a principle of the identity of indiscernibles in Aristotle.
2.6 Summary
The chapter concludes with a brief summary that emphasizes the rich complexity of Aristotles account of the ways one is said, particularly his distinctions
between material and formal ones and between things that are one and the unity
that they have. The contrast between his accounts of one and being undermines the assumption that Aristotle treats them as virtually the same. Apart
from helping appreciate the different ones that Aristotle uses in the Metaphysics,
often without specifying them, this chapters treatment of the ways one is said
undermines several common notions that are incompatible with the analysis of
Aristotles text in the rest of my study.
xv
3 Chapter 3 The Principles of Metaphysics: Books A and

The Metaphysics is unusual in that it has two introductory books, but both address
the question of the number of causes. Since they assume that each cause is one, they
both address an issue that falls under the broad rubric of one/many problems. The
universal scope of these inquiries into causes illustrates the possibility of an inquiry
with the scope metaphysics must have.
Aristotle proposes three signs to support the claim that all men by nature desire
to know. Since the desire to know is natural, we seek to exercise it until we have
what is most knowable, the object of first science. The science that knows this
object should also know all else.
Aristotles characterization of the science of wisdom implicitly raises a unity
question: how can all of the characteristics that are supposed to belong to the
objects of metaphysics, namely, universality, unity, and being the highest causes,
belong to objects treated by a single science?
Aristotle inquires into the number of causes as a way of inquiring into their nature.
In general, his predecessors assume that a cause must be one. They endorse different types of causes because they recognize different types of unity. Those who
endorse material and formal causes do so because they identify things as one in
substrate or one in formula. Although those who advance efficient causes do not
make them one, Aristotles criticism of them suggests that that is a deficiency in
their accounts. For some, such as Plato, a cause that is one requires another cause,
such as the dyad, that is defined by its lack of unity. That other philosophers did
not recognize all four causes counts against their accounts of the causes.
The final chapters of book A criticize the causes that A 37 spell out. Aristotle
organizes his discussions by considering together those who posit one cause and
those who posit many.
3.3.1 A 8
Aristotle criticizes other treatments of the causes on the ground that they cannot account for everything. In particular, causes of sensibles do not account for
supersensibles, and vice versa.
Aristotle is often thought to object most vigorously to Platos separation of the
forms, but he takes separation to be a mark of forms unity, and unity to be
requisite for any cause. Hence, the brunt of his arguments in A 9 are directed
toward showing that Platos forms cannot be one in the way he takes them to
be and still be causes.
3.3.2.1 Doubling
Aristotle argues that Platos forms double particulars without explaining
them. As he states it, his argument depends on the dubious assumption that
xvi
Plato takes form and sensible each to be individuals. However, the basic difficulty Aristotle points to is how one individual could function as the cause
of a sensible of the same character. This section proposes an explanation for
Aristotles distinction between the more and the less accurate arguments for
forms, and it shows how this distinction helps to organize A 9.
This section argues that in 990b8991a8 Aristotle discusses two parallel sets of
arguments for forms, one for the standard doctrine, the other more accurate
arguments for form numbers. In each case, Aristotle mentions some absurd
consequences of the arguments before disabling them. The arguments for the
forms depend on showing the necessity for some one, and Aristotle disables
them by showing that these arguments would either make what is not one
be one, or what is one be many.
Aristotle argues that the forms, in either the less or more accurate version,
cannot serve as causes for sensibles by showing that what is one in the ways
they are one cannot function as any of the four kinds of cause. Most strikingly,
the forms cannot account for motion and other features of sensibles.
3.4 B
ook : Infinite Causes, First Causes, and the Existence of
Metaphysics
Book argues that there cannot be an infinite number of causes because all
causal sequences terminate. The first causes are eternal beings that are also most
true, and knowledge of them is the highest knowledge of all things. The science
of these eternal, first causes is metaphysics. Hence, in arguing against infinite
sequences of causes, Aristotle is arguing for the existence of a distinct science of
metaphysics. However, book does not show what these causes are or explain
how metaphysics can know them.
4 Chapter 4 Book B: The Aporiai
Aristotles aporiai are antinomies, and setting them out is a standard part of his
philosophical method. Thus, there is no reason that these aporiai need be problems
that Aristotle was personally struggling with when he wrote the Metaphysics. Though
it is widely recognized that the aporiai concern Platonism, there is disagreement
about whether it is a Platonism that Aristotle endorses or rejects. The aporiai that
he presents in book B fall into three groups, the first of which concerns the subject
matter of the science, and the second and third of which concern the principles.
This section proposes that Aristotles refutation in Physics A 12 of the Eleatic
claim that all is one serves as a paradigm for the presentation of the aporiai in
Metaphysics B. In the Physics he first translates a claim involving one into his more
refined unity language and then shows that, however interpreted, it cannot be
true. The aporiai of the Metaphysics seem to arise from a similar translation, but
here inconsistent interpretations of the initial claim all seem true.
xvii

The first four aporiai have the same form: each asks whether a particular topic is
treated by one or many sciences.
4.2.1 Many Sciences
The existence of many sciences treating the various topics that ought to fall
under metaphysics is incompatible with the existence of a science of metaphysics. If there is a metaphysics, it must be one science.
4.2.2 One Science
The various topics that Aristotle considers in the first four aporiai ought to
fall under one science, metaphysics, but their inclusion in one science seems
inconsistent with tenets of Aristotelian science, particularly the assumption
that one science treats one genus.
4.2.3 Aporia Five
Although the fifth aporia is concerned with the existence of mathematical
intermediates, Aristotle presents it as a problem about whether there are one
or many genera of ousiai and whether, in the latter case, all can fall under one
science. Hence, it belongs in the first group of aporiai.
The first set of aporiai consider the possibility of metaphysics by asking whether
the topics that this science ought to treat can fall under one science. There seem
to be legitimate arguments on both sides of the issue.
This section argues in some detail that aporiai 610 turn on the kind of unity possessed by a principle. Only one of these aporiai is clearly formulated as question
about unity, but when we examine closely the arguments creating these other
aporiai, we see Aristotle supporting or refuting claims that the principles possess
particular characters by considering the unity of the principles.
The final group of aporiai consider particular candidates for the first principles.
Three of the five candidates under consideration are Platonic or Pythagorean. An
analysis of Aristotles arguments shows that each seems to be the first principle
because it is one, but that none possesses the appropriate unity. The two final
candidates are Aristotelian; yet, only one of them is presented without unity
arguments, and even it may be connected with a unity issue.
This subsection shows how the assumptions about unity that generate aporiai
about the unity of metaphysics subject matter and its principles could arise
from the Platonic claim that form is one. Platos forms are both the subject matter and principles of knowledge; Aristotle distinguishes these two roles by the
type of unity needed for each.
xviii

Since most of the aporiai are problems about unity, we must ask why Aristotle
does not choose to avoid them by simply rejecting the unity assumptions that
generate them. Although he shows in books A and that these assumptions are
common opinions, there is no reason to think that is why he endorses them.
This section argues that he accepts these assumptions about unity because they
are inherent in metaphysics.
Although Aristotles method is usually described as a method of saving the
phenomena or preserving common opinion, this section argues that it is better described as a method of arguing for new doctrines by showing that they
resolve otherwise insoluble contradictions. Aristotles injunction to preserve
common opinions acts as a side constraint on the new doctrines.
5 Chapter 5 Book : The Unity of Being
The first sentence of book is generally taken as a statement of fact, but this chapter
argues that it is a conclusion supported by seven separate arguments in 13. These
arguments resolve the first four aporiai. This chapter also argues that the treatment
of logical principles in the second half of book contributes to the inquiry into being
by showing that each being has its own essence. Hence, sensibles do not require
intermediates to be knowna point that undermines aporia 5. Finally, the chapter
addresses three well-known scholarly issues.
This section compares the stated conclusions of the seven arguments in order to
argue that all assert the unity of a science that treats various topics. Considering
that the obstacle to the existence of metaphysics is its subject matters apparent
lack of unity, we can see that to argue for the unity of this subject matter is to
argue for the existence of metaphysics.
1 draws consequences about metaphysics by assimilating the science of being
to other sciences. Aristotle assumes that metaphysics treats the nature of being
and aims to find its principles and causes, but he does not spell out what that
nature could be, nor does he show that this science exists.
From the structure of the argument, Aristotle assumes that being is pros hen and
argues that it can be treated by one science and that all the causes can be treated
by one science because they are related to ousia. But, as scholars have recognized,
the interesting and significant claim is what functions here as a premise, the pros
hen character of being. I argue here that this ostensible premise is the real conclusion, and that Aristotle supports it by showing that it alone explains how all the
causes can fall under one science and, thereby, resolves the first aporia. Important
to his argument is that insofar as being is pros hen, it is a kind of genus.
5.2 Being qua Being
It is generally supposed that being qua being has some fixed sense in book . In
this section, I argue that Aristotle uses the phrase as a placeholder: it stands for
the essence of being. Ousia, too, is a placeholder for the primary nature of being.
It is only later that Aristotle determines what this essence and nature is. The
xix
claims he makes about being qua being in the opening chapters parallel claims
he makes about the generic natures treated by his other sciences.
Ostensibly, the aim of this argument is to include in the subject matter of
metaphysics the species of being and the species of those species. In effect, the
argument shows that being can be treated as if it had species.
Since whatever is is also one, Aristotle includes one in the science that treats
being. Because the species of being are associated with species of one, Aristotle
also includes the latter in this science. The association between ones and beings
is more than merely extensional; Aristotle insists that there is some sort of per
se connection. The two belong to each nature in respect of that nature.
5.3.3 1004a29
In this text Aristotle explains how to use the results of the second and third
arguments to resolve the third aporia.
The apparent conclusion of this section is that all the opposites come under metaphysics. The means by which Aristotle reaches this conclusion is to show that
each opposite in defined through some relation with a nature that is one.
In this argument Aristotle includes the per se attributes of being qua being in the
science that treats the latter by drawing an analogy between it and number qua
number. His examples of attributes of being qua being make clear that he has
in mind at least some of the opposites that the preceding argument included
in the science.
5.4.3 Argument Six (1004b271005a18)
Though this argument is widely supposed to be ad hominem, Aristotle accepts
the conclusion and he even endorses the premises, at least in some contexts.
This section argues that the argument is Aristotles own and that it works with
the two preceding arguments to resolve the fourth aporia.
5.5 Argument Seven (1005a19b8): Principles of Demonstration
Here, Aristotle argues for including the principles of demonstration in the science that also treats ousiai on the ground that the principles belong universally.
His argument treats these principles as per se attributes of being qua being.
This section shows how being is to be understood dynamically. The seven arguments of the opening of book not only resolve the aporiai, but also determine
the character of the subject matter of the science, being. This determination is
reflexive because Aristotle examines one and being in order to show the unity of
being and the unity and being (existence) of the science. This self-determination
goes some way toward delineating the structure and nature of being, but we are
still at the opening stage of the process of determining this nature.
xx
5.7 Being and One

Although Aristotle often speaks of one and being together, the two seem to have
different natures, and he uses one instrumentally to discuss being. The one that
he speaks about in 13 seems to be the one that belongs to each being by virtue
of its being an instance of the genus of being.
All four formulations of the principle of non-contradiction mention same, a type
of unity. Thus, the principle can only apply to things that are one. It is for this
reason that Plato takes the principle to apply properly only to forms. Although
Aristotle maintains that each being is one, it cannot be the unity associated with
being that allows the principle to apply; some stronger unity possessed by each
being is necessary. This unity must also belong to every being if the principle is
to extend universally.
Aristotles arguments for the principle of non-contradiction begin from the
assumption that a word signifies something one. This section explores what
is entailed in this assumption. It argues that the one signified is an essence or
ousia and that the unity of this essence is stronger than the unity that converts
with being. Because the existence of essences is more problematic than the PNC,
Aristotles ostensible premise is his real conclusion, as in earlier arguments in
book . Hence, Aristotles arguments show that there must be essences for the
PNC to hold, and they make a case for the existence of essences.
5.9.1 Arguments 12: 1006b1134
Aristotles first two arguments for the PNC are relatively simple. The first follows almost immediately from the assumption that a term signifies something
one. However, this assumption and the PNC seem to be undermined if the one
thing has properties, and Aristotle must answer this and another objection.
The second argument shows the absurd consequence of identifying property
and subject. By understanding the reasons that the PNC might not hold, these
arguments show us what things must be like in order that the principle would
hold and that knowledge be possible. In particular, Aristotle argues implicitly
for the existence of a unity that is more refined than the unity associated with
being, namely, the unity of an essence, and that serves as the subject of the
PNC. Thus, the PNC is an ontological principle, and exploring it contributes
to Aristotles investigation of being.
5.9.2 Arguments 35: 1006b341008a2
Predication poses another, albeit similar, ground to reject the PNC. Whereas
the second argument shows that the nature that receives a property must be
what it is and not its contradictory, the third argument shows that the same
holds for the denial of a nature even though, defined by negation, it may seem
not to have a single essence. Aristotles fourth argument shows that to deny the
PNC is to destroy ousia, and his fifth argument aims to show the impossibility
of every characters being an attribute. Again, these arguments support the
notions that: any character and its denial divide all beings into two discrete
classes, instances of only one of these classes can be predicated essentially of
xxi
any individual subject, and not all predicates can be accidental. All this delimits
the character of the ousia or essence that is subject to the PNC.
Anyone who asserted that the PNC does not hold would also deny the principle of the excluded middle. Further, the attempt at only a partial denial of
the principle by allowing that even though everything that can be affirmed
can be denied, some of what is denied cannot also be affirmed is shown to
amount to a complete denial of the principle. Finally, anyone who asserts that
the PNC does not hold makes a positive claim about the character of being that
his own assertion requires him to deny. This last argument presupposes that
the PNC is a claim about being or some beings, an assumption supported by
previous arguments.
Whatever people might say about the PNC, they do not act in accordance with its
denial; for were it false, it would be impossible to claim that one course of action
is better than another, and purposive action would be impossible. Moreover, no
answer would be more right than another by being closer to the truth.
For Aristotle the PNC holds provided that there is some one being of which it is
true. In contrast, contemporary philosophers do not sanction a logical principle
unless it holds universally. Aristotle thinks that the PNC does have universal extension, and this chapter makes his case by disabling arguments to the contrary.
Because nothing comes to be from nothing, any change that occurs seems to
require that the subject already possess the character it becomes and, hence,
violate the PNC. Aristotle disables this argument by introducing his doctrine
of motion as the actualization of a potential, but actuality and potency here
are defined in respect of an essence.
Because an object is sensed in contrary ways by different people, the object
seems to be contrary to itself. Aristotle disables this argument by recognizing that the sensation has its own essence. The formulation of the PNC
that applies to sensations and non-ousiai and is, thereby, the most universal
formulation is the fourth (5.8).
According to the argument generally ascribed to Heraclitus, every nature is
constantly changing. As such, it is never one and the same and, thus, never
subject to the PNC. Aristotle undermines this argument by arguing that
change is not indefinite but regular and orderly. As such, particular changes
are one and, thus, themselves subject to the PNC.
5.9.6 6: Relatives
In this difficult discussion Aristotle addresses the person who insists that the
PNC is relative to the knower. He shows that someone who affirms this claim
destroys the unity of the knower and, thereby, the possibility of knowledge.
xxii
5.9.7 7: Principle of the Excluded Middle

Aristotle also argues against denials of the principle of excluded middle by
assuming that there are essences.
Aristotle calls the PNC a principle of knowledge, but he also claims that one
is the principle of knowledge. This section argues that the PNC is the negative
formulation of the latter positive claim. As such, it is a kind of essential property
of beings, like one. Aristotles notion that logic depends on ontology, implicit
in the PNCs dependence on essences, is quite different from contemporary
views of logic.
The analysis that I advance in this chapter requires convoluting the apparent
structure of the text, but it allows us to understand the text as an argument.
6 Chapter 6 Book Again
Book treats the essential attributes that argues fall to metaphysics. Whereas a
standard Aristotelian science would have demonstrated these attributes from the
essential nature of its subject genus, Metaphysics aims instead to trace the different
ways in which things are called by the name of an attribute to a primary instance of
the attribute. It is often unable to find a single primary instance and shows instead
their irreducible plurality and, thereby, their limited knowability.
7 Chapter 7 Metaphysics: Universal or Special
The central question of metaphysics is whether it exists as a science, and in order
to argue for it Aristotle needs to show that it has a subject matter. To show that
metaphysics has a subject matter, Aristotle needs to show that all beings have
sufficient unity to fall under one science. Hence, questions of being and unity are
intrinsic to metaphysics, as is its determining its own subject matter and existence.
The chief scholarly problems about the opening books of the Metaphysicswhether
metaphysics is (1) a science of all beings or a science of the highest causes, (2) an
ontology or a theology, (3) universal or special metaphysicsall spring from the
problem of whether there is a metaphysics at all. Scholars do not come to grips with
this issue because they think it is a problem with Aristotles account of metaphysics
rather than a problem within metaphysics; indeed, it is a central task of metaphysics
to address it.
Aristotles method is often called saving the phenomena and understood as
preserving and refining common opinions when they clash with each other.
Recapping earlier conclusions, this section argues that the method is rather
directed to resolving contradictions that are generated from various interpretations
of a single common opinion. Aristotle saves the phenomena by identifying the
assumption that has a hand in generating both sides of an aporia and modifying
it so as to skirt the antinomy while not altering other common opinions.
xxiii

This section recounts the first four aporiai and explains, briefly, how Aristotle
resolves them and how his doing so demarcates the subject matter of metaphysics. It considers alternative accounts of how Aristotle arrives at necessary truths
and explains how Aristotle organizes the aporiai so as to exclude alternative
solutions.
Although Aristotle conceives of metaphysics as an investigation of being along
lines that parallel his other sciences, because being is a pros hen, studying it leads
inevitably to the study of ousia. Understanding why this is so at once explains
why book addresses only the is it question (the what is it question is left
for the central books), how a science of being is possible, why metaphysics is
both universal and special, and, most importantly, why an ontology must, if it is
pursued to completion, become a science of ousia and, ultimately, a theology.
Abbreviations
Works of Aristotle
An. Po.
An. Pr.

Cat.
E. E.
N. E.
G. A.
G. C.
H. A.
I. A.
De Intp.
M. A.
Met.

P. A.

Phys.

Pol.
S. E.
Top.
Analytica Posteriora
Analytica Priora
De Anima
De Caelo
Categoriae
Ethica Eudemia
Ethica Nichomachea
De Generatione Animalium
De Generatione et Corruptione
Historia Animalium
De Incessu Animalium
De Interpretatione
De Motu Animalium
Metaphysica
Meteorologica
De Partibus Animalium
Peri Ideon
Physica
Poetica
Politica
De Sophisticis Elenchis
Topica
Posterior Analytics
Prior Analytics
On the Soul
On the Heavens
Categories
Eudemian Ethics
Nicomachean Ethics
Generation of Animals
On Generation and Corruption
History of Animals
On the Progression of Animals
On Interpretation
On the Motion of Animals
Metaphysics
Meteorology
Parts of Animals
On Ideas
Physics
Poetics
Politics
On Sophistical Refutations
Topics
Works of Plato
Charm.
Euthy.

Parm.
Ph.
Phil.
Rep.
Soph.
Symp.

Tim.
Charmides
Euthydemus
Gorgias
Ion
Meno
Parmenides
Phaedo
Philebus
Republic
Sophist
Symposium
Theaetetus
Timaeus
xxv
Glossary
The problems in translating Aristotles key terms are well-known. A large part
of the difficulty is that Aristotle is often engaged in sorting out different terms and
deciding their proper or primary senses. Since the central questions of the Metaphysics
are, ? (what is being?) and ? (what is ousia?) particular care should be
taken with these terms. Accordingly, I have adopted the conventional being for
and merely transliterated . I have also transliterated several other important
Greek terms. It may be disconcerting to some to see both Greek and transliterated
Greek. However, there are advantages to this path. I think that readers unable to read
Greek will be able to follow the text and identify key concepts more easily than if I
had left them in Greek. Also, I hope that my translations (or lack of translations, as the
case may be) will direct attention away from the concepts and toward the arguments
through which Aristotle delimits them.
Aristotle uses the following as technical terms:
accident ( ) Usually, an accident is anything that does not
belong to a things essence or does not belong to a thing in virtue of its essence.
But Aristotle often uses this term to refer to any instance of a category other than
ousia. Although the traditional view is that all nonousiai are accidental, many commentators think that some nonousiai are not accidents. I do not take a position on
this issue here. Since Aristotle refers to nonousiai as the accidental categories, I use
accident to refer to any nonousia.
actuality (also activity) [energeia () or entelechia ()] Energeia
comes from the word that means work or function (ergon). Actuality is the proper
function of a thing. The other term for actuality, entelechia comes from the word telos,
end. It refers to the internal completion or end of the thing. Aristotle uses the terms
interchangeably because he identifies the proper function of a thing with its internal
completion. The central books identify actuality with form and essence.
addition Aristotle uses several different terms for this important concept, but they
seem to have no difference in meaning. Addition is an all purpose term for any
combination. It resembles predication, but lacks the metaphysical baggage.
analogy Aristotles analogy has four terms: a/b :: c/d. Analogy is a tool for comparing things in distinct genera (see 6, 1016b321017a3). Thomas Aquinas refers to pros
hen as a kind of analogy, but this represents an extension of Aristotelian usage.
aporia Literally, lack of passage. An aporia is a deadlock that results from apparently sound arguments that support contrary conclusions. It is an antinomy.
attribute A being that is said of another. Although Aristotle also speaks of words
as being said of things, attributes are beings; that is, they are things that are said of
other things. He distinguishes between essential (per se) attributes and accidental
(per accidens) attributes.
being ( ) This term could mean either (1) something which is or (2) the character or act that makes a thing be. In general, Aristotle identifies the thing that is
with its act of being. Likewise, the term could refer to the class of all that is as well
xxvii
xxviii
Glossary
as the character that defines this class. This defining character is not a nature that
is common to all beings; that is to say, there is no distinct act of ising that is over
and above the acts of, for example, living or sensing that define particular
beings. Rather, each thing is a being because of its own nature. Importantly, each
being has its own nature. Even though the class of beings lacks a common nature,
it is not equivocal; rather, things are said to be in relation to some nature, ousia.
They are pros hen.
being qua being ( ) The essential nature of being. Aristotle uses this
phrase to speak about this nature without indicating what it is. Thus, the phrase
often functions as a placeholder. Finding the reference of being qua being is a central
task of the Metaphysics.
categorial ousia The first category or its instances. An individual, such as
Socrates, in which instances of other categories inhere or species and genera of
such individuals. Beings in other categories, such as numbers, are treated as ousiai
by sciences that demonstrate their attributes, but these beings exist as attributes
of categorial ousiai.
categorial being The being of the categories. This schema is one of the four ways
being is said.
category This term means predicate, and it can refer to the classes of predicates
that Aristotle describes in the Categories. More often Aristotle uses the term category to refer to the genera these predicates name. The categorial genera are the
most universal genera of beings.
cause () Aristotle uses this term in a more general way than we usually do.
In English, a cause is usually what Aristotle calls a moving cause and was later
called an efficient cause. Many philosophers refer to Aristotles other causes as
explanatory principles. This has the unfortunate consequence of suggesting a
subjective aspect to cause that is foreign to Aristotles thinking. His causes are
things. Despite its deficiencies, cause captures the objectivity of . So I render
the term as cause.
common opinions [endoxa ( )] Opinions held by most or all of the many
or the wise. Aristotle presumes they are true because he thinks our faculties are
capable of grasping truth; consensus is a sign of truth.
composite ( ) A variety of composites appear in the Metaphysics: (1) material compositea form in a matter, a particular individual; also called a composite
nature; (2) accidental compositean instance of an ousia and an instance of some
other category; including natural composites such as white man and north wind,
and artifacts such as a bed or a book; (3) per se compositean instance of an ousia
or some substrate and one of its per se attributes; for example, snub nose. Although
ousia is a constituent of the latter two types of composites, Aristotle often illustrates
these composites with a substrate that is not properly an ousia, like nose.
contraries Opposites within a genus. The species within the genus that are most
different from each other as well as the differentiae that define them are contraries.
Intermediates are between contraries.
Glossary
xxix
definition The formula of a things essence. Obviously, things without essences lack
proper definitions as well. They have formulae, and these are definitions, of a sort.
demonstration Proof by syllogism from self-evident assumptions. When the conclusion is better known than whatever might be assumed to support it, as is the PNC,
Aristotle resorts to elenchic demonstration, the refutation of its denial.
diairesis ()
divide a genus.
Division. The Platonic mode of arriving at definition is to
differentia (1) A character that divides a genus. The differentia is the form of the
genus, and the genus is its intelligible matter. (2) Probably by extension, Aristotle
also applies the term differentia to attributes that characterize matter, such as being
in a particular position or being glued. These latter differentiae are the forms of
accidental composites.
eidos ( ) This term is rendered either as form or species depending on
the context. Sometimes Aristotle uses it like shape (), as a principle contained
in a composite. Then it should be rendered form. In passages where he uses the
term as a universal predicate, it should be rendered species. Though traditional,
this dual rendering has been questioned partly because Aristotle does not draw the
distinction himself and partly because it conflicts with a particular view of form,
that form is universal. Although the two senses sometimes blur together, I think
the distinction should be made.
element ( ) A constituent. Usually Aristotle reserves this term for
material constituents of a thing. By extension he refers to some genera as elements
because they are constituents of other genera and species. An element is a kind of
principle.
essence ( ) Aristotle coined this phrase to indicate the character of a
thing by which it is what it is. The essence is the things nature, its form. A phrase
that is usually equivalent is X (where X is in the dative). The essence is what
is defined by a definition, though it is not identical with the definition. Sometimes
Aristotle also refers to an essence as a because we answer this question
with the definition of an essence.
essence of one ( ) Either the sorts of things that are one or the character that is closer to a name and shared by them. It is significant that these things
are not identical with their unity. This phrase is comparable to being qua being,
except that the essence of being is identical with the thing that is.
essential A standard translation of per se, q.v.
form ( ) Often this term means shape () in contrast with what has the
shape, but Aristotle apparently extends it, by analogy, to anything that resembles
shape in relation to what has shape. It is the latter that he identifies with essence.
formula ( ) Properly, a group of words that characterizes somethings
nature. A formula may or may not be a definition. It is a definition only when it is the
formula of an essence, and it can be such only if the thing of which it is the formula
has an essence. Because language is closely tied to thinking, Aristotle sometimes
uses formula when he means rational.
xxx
Glossary
function ( ) The work that defines a thing. Here a function is not just
what something doesthat would suggest that the thing could do something else.
A things function is what makes it what it is.
genus (1) A predicate that defines a class broader than a species. (2) The class so
defined. (3) A category or the class of entities that fall under the category. Aristotle
speaks of a genus in respect of a species, so that the genus for one species could be
the species for another genus.
individual ( ) Also translated as particular. Usually Aristotle uses
this term for sensible composites. But he sometimes applies it more broadly, using
it of species and, I maintain, anything that is numerically one.
indivisible Aristotle uses two terms that are translated as indivisible,
and . The former is literally without a cut and the latter without a
division.
inquiry () A search for causes. Teaching begins with a subjects causes
and demonstrates its attributes; inquiry begins with the subjects attributes and
seeks its causes. In other words, inquiry starts from the conclusion of a syllogism
(which is prior to us) and seeks to discover its middle term (which is prior in
nature). The Metaphysics and other works are inquiries rather than treatises that
defend doctrines.
is it? This is one of Aristotles four scientific questions, and he also uses the
phrase to refer to the answer to this question. Although the question can be raised
about simples, it serves to guide inquiry when asking it amounts to asking whether
one thing belongs to another. Thus, when Aristotle inquires whether being is, he
considers whether there is a nature through which all being are one.
kath hen ( ) Literally in respect of one. This describes the instances of a
genus or a species. For example, individual animals are called animals in respect
of one nature, the nature of animal which they all share. Cf. pros hen.
matter () What underlies a form, but not matter as the inert stuff of modern
physics. Matter is always defined relative to some form so that what is the matter
in one respect may be form in another. Even a logical entity such as a genus can
function as matter. Matter is potentiality.
middle term The term of the syllogism that is not stated in the conclusion; the
cause in respect of which an attribute belongs to a genus. Aristotle claims that all
inquiry seeks a middle term.
motion () Aristotle defines motion as the actualization of a potentiality qua
potential. This definition is more general than that of modern physics for it admits
not only local motion but also change in quality or quantity. Sometimes Aristotle
also calls change in ousia, generation or destruction, a motion; on other occasions
he calls them changes (), a term he also applies to motions.
nature () In the Physics Aristotle defines a nature as an internal principle of
motion or of rest, and he goes on to argue that this principle is both the things form
and its matter but primarily the form. A nature is an ousia or the form of an ousia.
Glossary
xxxi
one ( ) In Greek this term could refer to the one itself (if there is such an entity),
the unity possessed by a particular thing, the thing that possesses this unity, or the
property of oneness or unity in general. Because the proper interpretation is often
a point of contention, I have usually rendered the term simply as one. As he does
for most of his important philosophical terms, Aristotle describes the many ways
that one is said, but this term is more complex than the others. He distinguishes
two main groups of ones, one in number and one in species. Something can be
one in number by having a continuous matter, by being an instance of a species,
or even by lacking matter altogether. Aristotle equates one in species with one in
formula, and something has this type of unity if its formula is not divisible into
constituents that signify the same thing. There are other ways of being one that do
not fall under either head, such as one in genus and one by analogy. All these are
predicative uses of the term one. Aristotle also discusses cases where the term
functions as a subject, such as, the essence of one and the number one.
one/many problem Are all things one or many? This problem was central for
Presocratic philosophers. Aristotle regards it as multiple problems that arise from
different interpretations of the (true) claim that a principle must be one.
opposites Aristotle distinguishes four types of opposites: contraries, possession/
privation, relatives, denials. Only in the last case, must one of a pair be true and
the other false.
organically united (, ) Grown together. Aristotle uses
these terms to describe the strongest type of continuity.
ousia ( ) A noun formed from the participle being. Substance is the
usual translation, and it does capture Aristotles use of the term in the Categories. In
the Metaphysics, though, Aristotle denies that the ousia of the Categories is primary;
so substance no longer seems appropriate. Since the Metaphysics seeks its nature,
I have left the term transliterated.
per accidens ( ) An attribute is per accidens if that to which it
belongs could lose it without altering its nature.
per se ( ) Literally in respect of itself. Attributes belong to a thing per
se if the thing has them in virtue of its nature. Either they are included in its nature
or it is included in their natures. The things nature or essence is also per se.
potentiality ( ) The correlate of actuality. A potentiality is either (1) what
comes to be actualized through some generation or (2) what underlies the form or
actuality in a composite.
predicate ( ) Although a predicate is anything said of another, there
is a great deal of ontology packed into predication. Only an ousia or what is treated
as ousia can receive a predicate, and the existence of predicates depends on ousiai.
Though Aristotle sometimes speaks as if predicates were terms, they are things;
but they differ from the things of which they (or their names) are said.
primary (1) The primary instance of something is both that which is most properly
the thing and that in respect of which the other instances of something are so called.
(2) In Z 4 Aristotle describes something as primary if it is not said by somethings
xxxii
Glossary
being said of something else. (3) In Z 6 Aristotle describes something as primary

if it is not said of something else.
principle ( ) Like cause, but more general. Among the principles are not only
the four causes but also the principles of demonstration; for example, the principle
of noncontradiction.
principle of excluded middle (PEM) Either p or its denial (-p) must be true.
principle of non-contradiction (PNC) Aristotle formulates the principle in several
ways, the most general of which is: one and the same thing cannot be and not be at
the same time, in the same respect, etc. Although the principle is not itself a being,
it presupposes a nature that is one; and for the principle to be true, there must be
at least one thing that is subject to itnot, as we might think, that all things must
be subject to it. The question of which things are subject to the PNC is the question
of its scope.
proper differentia
differentiates.
A differentia uniquely associated with the genus it
proper function That activity which makes a thing what it is. Although I speak of
performing ones proper function, the latter is not an activity that one can choose
to perform or not perform. It is the form that makes a thing be.
proper matter The matter that is nearest to the form in that it receives the form
directly: the proximate matter. This matter is peculiar to the form. Although there
are some difficult cases, in ousiai and natural composites, one matter is proper to
one form. Proper matter is both the first matter and the last matter: it is first because
it is closest to the form, and last because it is furthest from the least determinate
matter.
proper sense My way of speaking about the primary instance, the instance to
which other lesser instances are related and through which they are defined as
instances.
pros hen ( ) Literally in relation to one. A character is pros hen if it belongs
to things by virtue of their (different) relations to one primary nature. For example,
things are called healthy because they are all related, albeit in different ways, to
health in a body. A pros hen is usually broader than a genus. Cf. kath hen.
proximate matter See proper matter.
said in many ways ( ) Most of the important Aristotelian
terms are said in many ways, and this is often taken to mean that they have multiple
definitions. What Aristotle means, however, is that many different things are called
by the same term in respect of different definitions.
same () Same parallels one: it is said in as many ways as one. But it is a
unity of many things or of what is treated as many.
save the phenomena [tithenai ta phainomena ( )] Usually
taken as a general rubric for Aristotles philosophical method of exploring discrepancies
between common opinions. Scholars assume that he avoids contradiction by affirming
Glossary
xxxiii
those common opinions that save the phenomena. It is argued here that this conception misconstrues the method and confuses a side constraint with its main thrust.
science ( ) A branch of demonstrative knowledge. Alternative translations of this Greek term include knowledge and discipline. None of these
renderings is entirely apt. (1) To us the word science suggests a body of knowledge supported by observation and experiment; Aristotle applies the Greek term
to metaphysics. (2) In its current usage, the English word knowledge does not
admit a plural; but Aristotle frequently uses the Greek word in the plural. (3) The
word discipline connotes a loosely organized area of knowledge; Aristotle insists
that each concerns a single genus and demonstrates the attributes that
belong to that genus. Because this structure is so important for understanding an
Aristotelian , I have often rendered the term as science.
scientific syllogism A demonstration that an attribute belong to a genus in respect
of the genus essential nature.
soul ( ) The form of a living thing. For Aristotle, soul has none of the
religious or mystical connotations that the term has in English. Soul is the difference between a living thing and a corpse. So there is no question that it exists. The
problem is to determine what it is.
species (1) The lowest (least general) predicate of individuals. (2) Any portion of
a genus defined by differentiating the genus. According to the Categories, only species and genera are properly predicated of individuals. Qualities, quantities, and
the other categories are present in individuals, though there are also individuals
and species in these other categories.
stages of metaphysics Aristotles metaphysics is an inquiry into first causes that
proceeds in three stages. The first stage, occurring in book A, is dedicated to
showing that the science exists because its subject, being, has a nature. The second
stage, in the central books, aims to determine what that nature (ousia) is. Because
Aristotles inquiry into causes seeks to determine ousia and proceeds toward this
end gradually, the meaning of ousia is refined in the course of the inquiry. Hence,
neither it nor other important terms should be expected to have the same meaning
throughout the Metaphysics.
substrate ( ) The substrate is the subject of predications; since
predicates are things, so is their substrate. Aristotle distinguishes three kinds of
substrate: matter, form, and composite. The last is primary ousia in the Categories.
In the Metaphysics, the formal substrate, the form, is primary.
summa genera The most inclusive and, thus, the highest genera. Since neither being
nor one is a proper genus, the categorial genera are the summa genera.
thing () Thing is a standard translation for the term that means each.
The thing is what has an essence, and Aristotle argues that it is its essence. Thing
is usually identified as composite, but nothing in the text requires this. What it is
needs to be decided, and the result of Aristotles analysis is, I argue, that it is form.
There is another term that is sometimes rendered as thing, . Occasionally,
Aristotle uses this latter term in the same way as the former, but often it has a
broader nontechnical usage.
xxxiv
Glossary
this ( ) This is often the distinguishing mark of ousia, but Aristotle

never explicitly defines it. A this is something but not something else, a description that immediately excludes accidents and composites. I argue that a this is
numerically one.
truth Although Aristotle is generally credited with a correspondence account
of truth, he also speaks of things as true. Things are more true if they are more
intrinsically knowable.
ultimate differentia The last differentia of a genus; the differentia that defines a
species which cannot be further differentiated.
unity language Aristotle distinguishes multiple ways one is said in 6 and I1,
and he often uses these senses of one to express and to examine doctrines, especially
those of his predecessors. Sometimes he expresses the same or similar doctrines in
his own distinctive metaphysical terminology.
universal ( ) An Aristotelian coinage for predicate. Literally the
term means in respect of the whole. A universal is said in respect of some whole.
Aristotle defines it as a one over many.
unmoved mover Aristotles first principle. He identifies the unmoved mover with
both the cause of motion of the heavenly spheres and with thinking about thinking.
From the former identification, he infers that there must be fortyseven or fiftyfive
unmoved movers. Each is a pure actuality.
what it is, what is it? ( ) The Greek for both is the same. This is a stock
Aristotelian phrase for: (1) one of the four scientific questions which ought to be
raised in any inquiry, the question whose answer is (or should be) the formula of
the essence of the thing; (2) the answer to that question, whether it is the definition
or simply the formula of the thing.
Introduction
One and Many in Aristotles Metaphysics: Books - is logically prior to One
and Many in Aristotles Metaphysics: The Central Books, but posterior in time.
The latter appeared in 1989, and I expected then that its two sister volumes
would soon follow. By starting with the second volume, I counted on avoiding, at least technically, the fate of those who published only the first volume
of multi-volume works. Some of what was to be covered in the projected first
volume had appeared already in papers, and I was confident that my approach
to the text in terms of the problem of the one and the many was Aristotles
own approach to his subject. Even so, the two other volumes have proven
difficult to write for another reason.
There were, of course, a large number of textual details to understand.
Others who have written on the Metaphysics pass quickly over these details,
excusing their seeming incoherence by commenting on the overall state in
which the texts have come down to us. But my contention here is that knowing that Aristotle is wrestling with the problem of the one and the manythe
Presocratic problem whether all beings are one or manyexplains many of
these details. So I clearly needed to discuss them. In their broad outlines, these
textual details soon fell nicely into place. It was clear that Aristotle broaches
the problem of the one and the many in Metaphysics A and , that most of the
aporiai he sets out in book B are versions of the one/many problem, and that
book dissolves the first four or five aporiai in a systematic way. By recognizing the manifold forms of the one/many problem and the general pattern of
Aristotles solutions, I was able to see that the opening books are nicely organized. Understanding the big picture gave me a handle on the fine-grained
details of many particular passages, and as I looked for one/many in the text,
I began to see Aristotle himself wrestling with the problem.
My problem was not understanding the text. Rather, it was accepting that
the science that studies being qua being to which all this led was not the neat
and clean science I expected. The question of how Aristotle understands
the science that studies being qua being has been extensively discussed, but
there are just two basic options in the literature, both of which are relatively
straightforward: the science studies being or it studies categorial ousia. I was
convinced that neither is correct as an interpretation of Metaphysics . Part of
the reason is that being qua being does not have a definite reference through
most of . Aristotle uses it as what mathematicians call a placeholder. It
stands for the nature of being so as to allow Aristotle to address in the opening
books of the Metaphysics the is it? question, that is, whether there is such a
thing as being, independently of the what is it? question about being that
xxxv
xxxvi
INTRODUCTION
he addresses in the central books. There, his discussion focuses on the nature
of ousia. The opening books inquire into whether being is by asking whether
and how it is one, and various features of being emerge in the course of this
discussion.
What emerged was surprising and troubling. In order to be the subject of a
science and, thus, known, being must be a genus or be treated as if it were, and
its pros hen character nicely justifies this move. However, Aristotle goes much
further than usually realized: he also treats being as having not only a generic
nature that belongs to each being, but also species, per se attributes, and logical
principles. Each of these requires some differentiation of being, but he argues
that being cannot be differentiated. (The reason is that a differentia cannot
be an instance of the genus it differentiates, but every possible differentia of
being would be a being.) Furthermore, the generic nature of being is ousia,
but here in the opening books ousia does not refer to categorial genus, as it
does through much of the rest of the Metaphysics, but simply to whatever has
a nature or essence. In this very extended sense, every being is an ousia. These
conclusions can hardly be found elsewhere in Aristotles philosophy, they are
at odds with a long tradition of interpretation of the Metaphysics, and they
result in a science of being that is barely intelligible. I resisted them for a long
time, and I can hardly hope for anything else from my readers. It took much
reflection for me to appreciate just how powerful and extensive the textual
evidence for them is and how well they serve the metaphysics that Aristotle
sets out. I also came to see that Aristotles approach to being is analogous to
his approaches to mathematicals, happiness, the state, and tragedy: though
none of these is properly an ousia, he treats each as if it were.
In retrospect, I should not have been so surprised. At the end of One and
Many in Aristotles Metaphysics: The Central Books, I had ascribed a puzzle about
sensible ousia to the latters intrinsic lack of full intelligibility. The principal
subject of the Metaphysics opening books, the whole of being, is even less intelligible than sensible ousia. I should have realized that it would be subject to
even greater puzzles. If these puzzles have not been recognized, it is because
. See Some Problems in Aristotles Mathematical Ontology in Edward C. Halper,
Form and Reason: Essays in Metaphysics (Albany, New York: State University of New
York Press, 1993),132; and Edward Halper, The Substance of Aristotles Ethics,
in The Crossroads of Norm and Nature: Essays on Aristotles Ethics and Metaphysics,
ed. May Sim (Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Littlefield, 1995),328. In insisting
on unity both as a defining character of tragedy and a normative standard,
Aristotle mirrors the assumption he uses to determine ousia in the Metaphysics
central books; see Edward C. Halper, Aristotles Paradigmatism: Metaphysics I
and the Difference It Makes, Proceedings of the Boston Area Colloquium in Ancient
Philosophy22 (2007):9495.
INTRODUCTION
xxxvii
scholars do not see how Aristotle argues for the unity of metaphysics in the
first chapters of book or what his arguments for the principle of non-contradiction contribute to his determination of being. Then, too, we can hardly
expect Aristotle to suppose that all beings can be known to the same degree
as their first causes: his claim that all beings can be known is itself a dramatic
departure from Platonism. Despite its exalted name, being or being qua
being, is not, at the first stage of the Metaphysics, the highest and most intelligible cause, but a barely real entity that admits of minimal knowledge.
Again, the science of being that ultimately emerges here will strike readers
as very strange and, at least initially, as quite implausible. It is well-known
that there is no single nature that all beings share in common, and that it is
only because all are related to some primary nature, ousia, that Aristotle can
speak about a nature of being and treat all beings in one science. However, it
is universally assumed that ousia here must refer to the category of ousia.
Later, in the central books, Aristotle clearly is referring to the categorial genus
of ousia as the primary nature, but in book ousia is initially an undetermined placeholder, like being qua being, and it is eventually shown to refer
to whatever has an essence. It is an important conclusion that every being has
an essence, and this essence allows each being to be subject to the principle of
non-contradiction and, thus, to be known. Thus, that they each have a nature
is common to all beings, and to have a nature functions as if it were itself
a sort of common nature. This is obviously not a categorial nature, and no
categorial character is common to all beings. However, this common nature
serves to make being a kind of genus. To study being qua being is to treat
each being as if it were an ousia just as to study number qua number is to treat
each number as if it were an ousia with attributes. What Aristotle calls the
science that studies being qua being is a proper part of the larger science of
metaphysics. It is a part whose provenance is defined reflexively by its concern
with the being of being. It can show that being is but not what it is because,
quite simply, being has no categorial content: it has no proper what. Nor
does it have intelligible content, as it might were it what medieval philosophers call a transcendental. Ironically, the common character that makes all
beings intelligible, that is, essence, is not itself intelligible as a character. Nor
is it obvious how this nature can have attributes or be the subject of a science. Needless to say, these were not conclusions I expected to reach; indeed,
they fly in the face of the deeply ingrained picture of Aristotle as espousing
a common sense metaphysics of ousia and attribute. Even to propose such an
interpretation of a work intensively discussed for more than two millennia
seems to be an affront to common sense.
Yet, this interpretation is entirely consistent with the rest of the work. It is
important to realize that the science of being qua being and its per se attributes
xxxviii
INTRODUCTION
that we find in the opening books of the Metaphysics, especially in and , is

a stage of a larger inquiry. When Aristotle turns his attention in later books to
determining what being is, he is led to beings causes, categorial ousia, form,
and essence. Then, we are on more familiar territory. One nice feature about
approaching the opening books of the Metaphysics in terms of the one/many
problem is that it becomes clear why what we find in the central books is the
next stage of Aristotles inquiry. The differences in perspective between the
opening books and the rest of the Metaphysics, as well as the differences in the
names of the science, that have so troubled scholars become clear. Aristotles
inquiry into being dissolves, as it were, into an inquiry into ousia.
It will be apparent that the present study of the Metaphysics differs from
others in several respects: It is widely assumed that Aristotles text is disorganized, even garbled, but that a careful reading can often discern elements
of a clear and unified doctrine. My contention here is that the text is carefully,
accurately, anddare I say itbeautifully laid out, but that the doctrine that
emerges, particularly from A-, is less than fully intelligible. Then, too, it is
widely assumed that Aristotle is setting out metaphysical doctrine, often
without argument. My contention is that Aristotle is arguing for his doctrines
in steps and delimiting these doctrines progressively. Thus, the character or
structure of being is, as it were, discovered as Aristotle shows how being meets
the unity requirements to be the subject of a science. We might think of the
opening books of the Metaphysics as comparable to a mathematical theorem
proving that some complex problem has a solution and determining something
about the solutions nature without actually finding what it is.
If I am right, Aristotles account of being emerges gradually as his inquiry
proceeds. Most scholars writing on the Metaphysics present an interpretation and
make a case for it. But this method is not suitable for showing the contours of an
inquiry; for beings features become richer in the course of the inquiry. Then, too,
my concern here is with how Aristotle makes his case, in particular, with how he
uses the problem of the one and the many to argue for his characteristic doctrines.
Given my aims here, the appropriate way to understand the Metaphysics is to
proceed heuristically by working through the steps of the inquiry as Aristotle
presents them to us. This is a laborious, demanding, and confusing endeavor.
It requires patience and careful attention to detail. Unfortunately, there is no
more a royal road to metaphysics than to mathematics.
Some may say that my not assigning determinate content to being, even
though it is the object of metaphysics, counts against my interpretation or, if it
is correct, against Aristotle. And well they might; for, since the Enlightenment,
the notion of degrees of being that pervades the thought of Aristotle and the
tradition of philosophy before and after him has been nearly universally
rejected. The being that Aristotle declares to be the subject of his science is
INTRODUCTION
xxxix
on the lowest rung of a ladder on whose highest rung sit the unmoved movers. To understand this scale we need to enter a thought world that is decidedly not our own. Likewise, the idea that inquiry could proceed step-wise
up this ladder determining, as it develops, truths that hold of successively
narrower subjects will be alien to most readers. Ironically, it is often efforts
to preserve Aristotles thought and use it to address contemporary issues
that most obscure his reasoning. Then, too, after two millennia, Aristotles
terminology has penetrated deeply, but it is often transformed or adapted to
contemporary thought patterns. We should realize that he invented much of
this terminology, and that he uses it to replace the one/many terminology of
his predecessors, but that the latter is often more helpful for understanding
the problematic from which his reasoning begins. Of course, in the end we
may well want to reject Aristotles thought and terminology, but we need to
understand them in order to do so, and for that we need to see his philosophy
as a dynamic response to a problem or set of problems rather than merely a
set of doctrines or theses.
The aim of One and Many in Aristotles Metaphysics: Books A- is to make
clear that problematic, to show how Aristotle justifies his doctrines by showing how they resolve one/many problems, and to use this justification to get a
handle on the doctrines and what is puzzling in them. Aristotles problematic
is not ours, but I think it is the key to understanding the Metaphysics, and what
I hope to do here is produce a clear and compelling interpretation that makes
this text, in all of its complexity, come alive. My claim that the problem of the
one and the many, in its various manifestations, is Aristotles leading problem
is likely to seem as implausible to readers schooled in the literature as it would
have seemed to me when, years ago, I embarked on what I assumed would
be a relatively brief study of an interesting side issue. As I reflected on the
surprising prominence of the issue in the text, I began to see something even
more surprising and interesting, namely, that Aristotle regards this problem
as intrinsically tied to metaphysics, and I came to see why this is so. This made
the study of the problem not merely of historical or, even, textual interest, but
of genuine metaphysical concern. Indeed, establishing the problem itself as
an or, perhaps, the issue of metaphysics may be among the most enduring
results of the Metaphysics. Ultimately, I want to show here why this problem,
in some form or other, must be central to any metaphysics. This is a claim that
extends well beyond the particular formulations of the issue we find in the
Metaphysics and beyond the Aristotelian assumptions about knowledge and
causes that generate them. It is not a claim that Aristotle makes in the work,
but it helps to account for what we find there. If it is right, then our rejecting
the terms of Aristotles formulations or his solutions will not relieve us of the
philosophical problem he addresses.
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INTRODUCTION
Not all will agree on the significance and insurmountability of the one/many
problem for metaphysics. So-called deflationary interpretations of Aristotle
and other philosophers have become popular recently. Such interpretations
aim to show that a philosopher is asserting much less than had been supposed
and that his limited claims are more defensible. I do not think that philosophy
is about defending theses so much as solving problems. In my view, a deflated
thesis that, though defensible, leaves unsolved the problem it is supposed to
address is, at best, a Pyrrhic victory. In general, though, many Aristotelian
scholars are concerned with doctrine and are reluctant to ascribe anything
to Aristotle that cannot be found in individual passages. Even doctrines that
require putting together two or more passages are suspect on the ground
that we do not know that Aristotle wrote both at the same period of development or, even if he did, that he drew the inference we do. Nearly a century
ago scholars began to explain apparent textual discrepancies by referring
to different periods of Aristotles development, and in the process they tore
down what was still a Scholastic interpretation and infused new life into the
Aristotelian texts. The movement fostered a close examination of particular
texts and the realization of how far traditional interpretations went beyond
the text. Ultimately, though, it has led to a textual conservatism that tends to
confine scholarly attention to individual passages. It is, I submit, now time for
a new synthesis, and the way to proceed is not by a renewal of tired efforts to
extract doctrine, but by focusing on Aristotles problematic.
This book and its sister volumes aim at such a synthesis. Aristotles problematic is the one/many issues that pervade discussion in the Academy, and
we need to think through their solution with his text. Such is the state of this
text, that a solution requires reconstructing its pieces into a cogent whole. The
endeavor is justified because Aristotle supplies us with so little to explain
how individual passages fit together. Any reader is forced to supply such
links. My innovation here is to use the one/many problem to discover them.
The book begins with a brief Overview in which its main conclusions are
stated without argument, and it concludes with a chapter summarizing the
whole argument. As in my volume on the central books, the last chapter here
can be read independently, but the force of my interpretation lies not so much
in the conclusions it advances as in the light it sheds on numerous obscure
passages and in the insight it achieves into metaphysics, Aristotles approach
to the subject, and the problems inherent in that approach. None of this can
be conveyed adequately in a summary.
Metaphysics A- fall to a single volume because they address a single issue,
namely, the possibility of a science of metaphysics, and because their subject is
the being (or unity) of being. Since this is a different issue than that addressed
in the central books, this volume can be read independently of One and Many
INTRODUCTION
xli
in Aristotles Metaphysics: The Central Books. However, the two books present
a single inquiry that Aristotle completes in Metaphysics I-N, and that I discuss
in the final volume of this study.
The picture of the opening books of Aristotles Metaphysics that emerges
from the present volume is remarkably coherent and consistent. It dovetails
nicely with what emerges from my volume on the central books, as well as
what we find in the final books of the Metaphysics. Most of my attention here
is focused on placing the pieces of this picture together rather than making a
case for its superiority to other interpretations. Most of the details and richness
of this view simply have no counterpart in other interpretations. It is more
useful and interesting simply to follow a train of thought that fits the text so
well that it is hard to imagine that it would not have been Aristotles.
*****
It is often helpful to distinguish my interpretations from those of others.
Hence, most of my citations are critical. Those who labor on Aristotles text
deserve more. I have learned much from them, especially from those with
whom I disagree the most, and I acknowledge my debt and my gratitude for
their work.
Some portions of this text are revised versions of previously published
papers: Aristotle on the Extension of Non-Contradiction, History of Philosophy
Quarterly, 1 (1984): 369380; Aristotle on the Convertibility of One and Being,
The New Scholasticism, 59 (1985): 213227; Being qua Being in Metaphysics ,
Elenchos: Rivista di studi sul pensiero antico, 8 (1987): 4362; Aristotle on the
Possibility of Metaphysics, Revue de Philosophie Ancienne, 5 (1987): 99131; The
Origin of Aristotles Metaphysical Aporiai Apeiron, 21 (1988): 127 [reprinted
in A. Preus and J. Anton, eds. Aristotles Ontology. Vol. 5 of Essays in Ancient
Philosophy, 15175. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1992]. I gratefully acknowledge the permission of the editors of these journals to reprint
material from them here. In addition, I am grateful to several people who have
read and commented on drafts of portions of this manuscript: Allan Bck,
Russell Dancy, Gene Garver, Yehuda Halper, Arthur Madigan, Joe Sachs, and
Steve Strange. Three graduate students, Beth Ann Robinson, Robert Scott, and
Graham Schuster, helped significantly with editing in the final stages.
Work on this book was supported by the University of Georgia Research
Foundation.
This volume is dedicated to my parents Robert and Audrey Halper. With
age, I am ever more aware of how much I owe them.
CHAPTER
The Problem and the Method
1.1 An Overview
Aristotles Metaphysics is notoriously difficult. Avicenna, the great medieval
philosopher, is reported to have said that he read it forty times but still did
not understand it. Apart from the intrinsic difficulty of its ideas, the text itself
is extraordinarily terse, apparently disjointed, and mostly lacking in the signposts that explain what particular discussions are supposed to contribute to
the goals of the whole. Indeed, there is considerable discussion in the secondary literature about whether the work is a whole or a collection of writings
assembled by later editors. The latter position is fueled by Aristotles referring
to the science in different ways in different places and by the fact that it was
his editor who named it metaphysics. Because the status and meaning of
the whole is problematic, there is often no agreed context against which to
interpret particular passages, and doubts about the unity of the whole have
encouraged readers to interpret passages without presupposing any context.
Terse passages are sufficiently ambiguous to admit multiple interpretations
when taken in isolation. Thus, the text of the Metaphysics has spurred a vast
literature that reflects strikingly divergent interpretations of the work. Our
understanding of the text is further complicated by the fact that it has been,
through much of the history of philosophy, a rich source of inspiration for
original reflection on metaphysics itself. Thus, despite its standing near the
beginning of western philosophy, there is an oddly living dimension to the
Metaphysics that makes it hard for readers, contemporary as well as ancient
and medieval, to separate Aristotles conception of the discipline from their
own and the truth of his claims from the accuracy of their interpretation.
The bulk of readers attention has always been focused on clarifying and
evaluating Aristotles key metaphysical doctrinesthe doctrines of being,
ousia, and the unmoved moversand rightly so. These doctrines represent
his important conclusions, and they persist as metaphysical issues. There is,
though, a theme that, though no longer vital to philosophers, should have
garnered more scholarly interest because of its centrality to Greek metaphysics: the problem of the one and many. We will see that this problem has many

formulations, but it is enough for now to understand it as the question whether

all things are one or many. Aristotle often, possibly always, discusses the
metaphysics of his predecessors in terms of their treatment of this problem.
Much of the first two books of the Metaphysics, A and , consider whether the
causes are one or many (or infinite). It is clear from Aristotles discussion that
this is also a way of considering not only whether all things are one or many
but also, because the number of causes often reflects the causes characters,
what the causes are and, thereby, what all things are. Toward the end of the
Metaphysics, Aristotle pays special attention to a more arcane version of this
problem, the Academic notion that all will be one unless a many can be generated from one and its opposite, the indefinite dyad (N 2, 1088b351089a6).
Rather than addressing these two one/many problems directly, Aristotle uses
them critically. Thus, he dismisses the Academic problem as outmoded, and
he expounds the causes in the first two books to criticize both monists and
pluralists. However, Aristotle is a notoriously poor historian of philosophy.
He presents only doctrines that suit his ends, and he presents them mostly
in his own terms. For just this reason, his treatment of the problem of the one
and the many as the central metaphysical issue for his predecessors surely
signals his own interest in this issue. Worth noting also is that the problem
of the one and many continues to be central to Greek metaphysics after
Aristotle, particularly for Neoplatonic thinkers like Plotinus and Proclus.
They, too, are deeply concerned with how a one becomes many and how
pluralities manifest unity.
The case for examining this theme in the Metaphysics would be strong
enough on textual and historical grounds alone, but there is a more compelling reason: the problem of the one and many is intrinsic to metaphysics. To
see this requires some reflection on what metaphysics is. Metaphysics is supposed to be the highest science because it knows the first cause or causes of
all things. Yet, it is not obvious that it exists because it is problematic whether
there are first causes. Every science seeks the principles or causes of its own
subject matter. In order that there be first principles or causes, there would
have to be causes or principles of the causes or principles known by particular sciences and, ultimately, causes or principles that are themselves without
higher causes or principles. Any cause or principle that was composite or
plural would have prior constituents and, thereby, fail to be a highest principle
or cause. So the first principles or causes must each be one. Importantly, all
things would need to fall under the scope of these principles or causes. To do
so, all things need to have some degree of unity, minimally the unity of what
has common causes. Hence, the existence of metaphysics turns on whether
all things are sufficiently one to be known through common causes or are,
rather, insurmountably many.
The degree of unity is critical. Insofar as metaphysics treats all things, at

least some of its subject matter is also treated by particular sciences. It is puzzling what metaphysics could add to what these sciences know. If each thing
falls under some particular science, a metaphysics would seem impossible or
unnecessary. On the other hand, if metaphysics does know all things, there
would be one science of everything. A first cause would have to stand above
other causes, but how could it do so without making them mere effectscausal
cogs, as it wereset to work by the first cause, and thereby reducing all to
a single cause? Apparently, there is either one science that knows all things
or many autonomous particular sciences, each with its own subject matter.
Neither circumstance would admit a proper metaphysics, the former because
there are no lower sciences it could stand over, the latter because there is no
highest science.
Such concerns are intrinsic to metaphysics. It differs from particular sciences in that it alone is concerned with its own existence. For metaphysics to
exist, the first causes and all that they cause, that is, all beings must be able
to be known by one science. All beings can be so known if they have the
pertinent sort of unity. In order to determine whether beings do constitute
such a unity, metaphysics will need to determine what being is, that is, what
makes something a being, and also what one is. Hence, metaphysics will study
being and one in order to determine its own being and unity as a science. The
reflexivity in this formulation is not accidental. Its subject, the being of being,
is intrinsically reflexive, and since being will be only if it is one, the question
of the one and the many is intrinsic to metaphysics. Metaphysics must either
raise this question or assume an answer to it. Moreover, metaphysics is concerned to determine whether there is a first cause or principle, and this latter
must, as I said, be one but also, somehow, a cause of the principles of the many
particular sciences. Because metaphysics is intrinsically connected with the
many particular sciences, for it to know its own existence, it must be able to
resolve the one/many problem.
We do not find this reasoning in Aristotles Metaphysics, but some of it is
similar to remarks he makes about another architectonic science. The two
opening chapters of the Nicomachean Ethics speak of a master science or
architectonic science that makes use of all other arts and sciences for its own
end (1096a1415). Aristotle identifies this ruling science with politics and
claims that it has as its end the good for man (1096a26b2, b67). It rules
other sciences in the sense that it determines whether they should be present
in a state, who should practice them, and to what extent. All these sciences,
including politics, are activities that aim at the human good, and the latter is
itself the activity Aristotle terms happiness (cf. 7, 1098a718). Politics is, thus,
the architectonic activity that arranges itself and the other human activities
so that those who engage in them will thereby engage in, or come closest to
engaging in, the activity that constitutes the human good. Thus, the unity
of politics is grounded in the unity of human nature. Other sciences come
under its authority insofar as they too are human activities and aim directly
or indirectly at the human good.
In contrast, Plato identifies the good that is the subject of the ruling science
with the good itself. Aristotle criticizes this identification by denying the unity
of the good: the good is different in different categories (6, 1096a2328). That is
to say, Aristotle denies that all good things are instances of a single universal
good and, therefore, that they contain sufficient unity to be known by a single
science. His own science of the good is limited to the human good and what
contributes to it. Thus, he thinks that politics is one science that can rule over
many sciences because there is some unity in their ends. The point is that its
existence as one science standing over many particular sciences necessarily
invokes the problem of the one and the many in its subject.
Metaphysics is also an architectonic science, but whereas politics knows
only the human good, metaphysics knows the best in all of nature (Met. A 2,
982b27). The latters subject, all things, must also be sufficiently one to be
known by one architectonic science, but all things do not have as much unity
as human activities can. Hence, whereas the existence of politics is no more
in question than the existence of human nature, the existence and nature of
metaphysics is more problematic and requires investigations of one and being.
Still, if I am right to think that Aristotle recognizes that politics can be one
science over many subordinate sciences only if the latter, and their subjects,
have some sort of unity, then there is some reason to think he recognizes the
intrinsic connection between metaphysics and the one/many problem.
The question of the relation of one ruling science to a plurality of subordinate sciences is also broached by Plato. He has Socrates argue against an
architectonic science either by arguing (1) that there is no subject matter for it
to treat because particular sciences treat everything (Charmides 170a171c; Ion
540bc) or else (2) that it has either no product besides those of the subordinate
sciences (Charmides 174c175a, 165ce; cf. Gorgias 459b460a) or no product
other than making more rulers (Euthydemus 288d292e). Although these arguments are left unanswered in early dialogues, Plato disarms them when he
recognizes, in the Republic, separate beings that are the exclusive province of
philosophers and claims that it is knowledge of these forms that entitles philosophers to rule. These forms are at once the causes of everything else and,
because nothing else can be properly known, the content of all knowledge.
That is to say, Plato narrows the scope of being to the causes themselves, and
he places outside of being, in becoming, nearly all of what Aristotle takes
to be the subjects of particular sciences. He solves the one/many problem by
narrowing the scope of what is known and relegating it to a single science.

The problems with this move are the problems of Platonism: First, since all
things besides the forms are reduced to becoming, they cannot be known,
and metaphysics or philosophy cannot explain, or even contribute toward
explaining, whatever we grasp of becoming. Second, since mathematicals do
not fall under becoming, they must be forms or accounted for by forms. But
mathematicals, except for the unity and the point, are each pluralities; so Plato
still needs to account for a plurality by means of unity. Third, inasmuch as
there are multiple forms, there must be a still higher cause, more one than they,
through which they are derived. Hence, Platos neat solution to the one/many
problem creates a host of other one/many problems, problems that are much
discussed in the Academy and by Aristotle.
In sum, even though Aristotle does not argue, in the Metaphysics, that
the one/many problem is intrinsic to metaphysics, (1) his discussion in the
Nicomachean Ethics of politics as the ruling science addresses the sort of problem
of the relation between the one architectonic science and the many subordinate
sciences that arises for every architectonic science, (2) he must be aware of
Platos arguments against an architectonic science as well as Platos solution,
and (3) he considers at length the one/many problems that arise from this
solution. None of these points is conclusive, but they make it more plausible
to suppose ab initio that he sees the intrinsic connection between metaphysics
and the one/many problem.
If, though, this problem is intrinsic to metaphysics, we cannot help wondering why Aristotle does not say so explicitly. The answer, I think, is that
the arguments I have presented on his behalf belong among the framing considerations and general orienting remarks that are almost completely absent
from the Metaphysics. As I noted, Aristotle repeatedly presents arguments
for a conclusion without instructing us why he treats the subject or how the
conclusion fits into his overall scheme. He asks in Metaphysics A whether the
kinds of causes are one or many and, within each kind, whether there are,
again, one or many. But he does not explain why he investigates the causes by
considering their number. Such an explanation would frame the argument and,
likely, enable us to see how it contributes to the whole. I think that the reason
Aristotle does not frame arguments is that his subject here is simply the causes,
whereas the decision to investigate the causes by asking about their number
does not belong to the causes. In general, the remarks that would explain the
rationale for an argument are not properly part of the argument itself.
Whether or not this last thought explains the text, we should not dismiss
the suggestion that one/many issues structure the text on the ground that the
Metaphysics says little about them; for, again, there is nothing in the text about
its overall structure. Many would point to this absence and the seemingly
confused state of the text as justifications for not ascribing any structure to
the Metaphysics. They would say it is far safer simply not to make any assumptions about the structure of the text, especially since we cannot be sure that
it was written at the same time and intended by Aristotle as a single work.
The presumed remedy for these concerns is to focus on relatively small portions of text that are likely to stem from a single perspective. In my view, the
problem with treating passages in isolation is that scholars make the assumption that they can be or are supposed to be understood in isolation. In short,
in aiming to free themselves from unsubstantiated assumptions about the
structure of the text, some scholars unwittingly make the unsubstantiated
and, I think, implausible assumption of the independence of one passage from
others. This move conveniently shields an interpretation from criticism based
on other passages because it will always be possible to deny that we know
that the other text comes from the same period or even the same hand. The
unsystematic corpus that thereby emerges bears too much similarity with the
views of contemporary philosophers not to be a bit suspicious. Whatever its
deficiencies, the text of the Metaphysics that we have in the manuscripts ought
to be our starting point. We are justified in abandoning it only if it fails to
make sense. If, though, we see that a large number of individual arguments
fit together nicely to address an issue, such as the one/many problem, we are
justified in inferring that Aristotle aims to address this issue. Aristotles not
telling us the structure and import of his text does not justify assuming that
it has no structure, but it does leave us room to look for the structure.
There are two more points that need to be mentioned here briefly. First,
we will see that although metaphysics is intrinsically concerned with both
one and being, the former gives it a tractability that the latter does not. That
is to say, Aristotle uses arguments about the former to nail down the latter.
Although the Metaphysics seeks the primary ousia, it looks for it by aiming to
find what is most one. Second, part of the reason that Aristotle focuses on the
one/many issue is that he assumes in the Posterior Analytics that each science
has, for its subject matter, a single genus. However alien this assumption may
1. The Clarendon series of translations and commentaries is predicated on the
assumption that individual books of the Metaphysics or other Aristotelian works
can be read independently of each other. Their authors usually aim to point out
problems and ambiguities in passages, rather than to propose an encompassing
interpretation of individual books.
. Joseph Owens, The Doctrine of Being in the Aristotelian Metaphysics: A Study in the
Greek Background of Mediaeval Thought (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval
Studies, 1978),8492, argues that the methodical order of the treatises that
constitute the Metaphysics, that is, the final order in which Aristotle redacted
them as shown by which books presuppose and refer to others, is pretty much the
sequence of books in our text. This result sanctions beginning with the text.
be to the contemporary scene where subjects are rarely demarcated precisely

and interdisciplinary studies are celebrated, it remains true even for us that
the role for metaphysics is to be some one science that stands over and above
the others. Thus, even contemporary philosophers who say that philosophy
only clarifies concepts used in empirical sciences still mark off a subject that,
while distinct, is somehow present in all other disciplines. They may not talk
about this as a one/many problem, but it is. On the other hand, Aristotles
recognizing the one/many dimension of the problem of metaphysics or, more
specifically, his recognizing the connection between the existence of this science
and the unity of all beings is part of what makes his treatment of metaphysics
so worthwhile.
Two tasks remain in this overview. The first is to sketch Aristotles solution
to the problem of the one and many, that is, the problem of how there can
be a metaphysics and what it is that this science knows. The sketch requires
that I set out, without argument, the principal thesis and results of this study
for the present volume and also, more briefly, for the two succeeding ones.
The second task is to sketch how the text of the Metaphysics makes a case for
this solution, for one of my claims is that Aristotles text is, for the most part,
a carefully constructed and cogent set of arguments that work together to
support his conclusions.
The principal thesis of this book is methodological. My claim is that Aristotle
addresses the problem of the one and the many, in its various guises, throughout the Metaphysics, and that he uses this problem to argue for his principal
metaphysical doctrines. Aristotle introduces these doctrines as solutions to
various forms of this problem. By showing that different versions of the one/
many problem are otherwise insoluble, Aristotle argues, albeit indirectly, for the
doctrines that will resolve these versions of problem. Hence, where most others
see Aristotle as expounding doctrine, I will show that he advances powerful,
though not always decisive arguments for these doctrines. Understanding
these arguments requires that we understand Aristotles characteristic way
of arguing in the Metaphysics and that we supply those connections that his
text almost always omits. And understanding Aristotles method requires, in
turn, that we understand the Metaphysics as what ancient philosophers call
an inquiry or search (), that is, not as a presentation and defense
of a doctrine but as a process of discovering a doctrine.
Consider the difficulty of constructing an argument about Aristotles
method, especially when he tells us very little about it. Nothing else will do
besides the close consideration of large portions of text. A brief passage, taken
by itself, can often be read in multiple ways. Although I cannot decisively

exclude alternative readings, what I can do here is to show how to read a
large number of texts in terms of the one/many problem and, thereby, how to
illuminate and to interconnect the texts. An interpretation that makes a seemingly disjointed or incoherent text into a plausible and cogent argument for
an important metaphysical doctrine ought generally to be preferred to those
that find the text incoherent. Yet, the only way to show that the Metaphysics
is an inquiry is to set out and work through the steps of that inquiry by
following closely what we find in the text.
Most readers will probably be more interested in Aristotles doctrines than
his method, and what emerges here diverges from standard interpretations.
Let me therefore sketch, again without argument, the main interpretative
conclusions of this volume and the two that follow it. First, I argue that
there are two main metaphysical issues, the two we have seen. The first
is whether metaphysics exists as a science, and the second is what its first
principles or causes are. These are tantamount to what the Posterior Analytics
(B 1, 89b3135) identifies as the two scientific questions, is it? and what
is it? In other sciences, both questions are pursued together because both
are answered by finding the essential nature possessed by each instance of
the genus that is a sciences subject matter. In metaphysics, though, they are
pursued separately because the existence of this science depends on its having
a subject matter, that is, on all beings comprising a single whole, whereas the
nature studied by the science is the cause through which this subject matter
is one. More specifically, Aristotle shows the existence of metaphysics by
showing that its entire subject matter, all beings, having a degree of unity
that is sufficient for them to be known by one science. He determines the
nature of this subject matter by examining that nature upon which the subject matter depends; it is the cause even if not every instance of the subject
matter shares in it. Subject matter and nature are each one but not the same
type of one. Aristotle inquires into what this nature is in stages by assuming
that whatever else it is, the nature must be most one. Ultimately, he arrives
at the first and highest causes of everything, the unmoved movers, each of
which has the highest type of unity. Aristotle shows that other candidates
for the highest cause have weaker claims by showing they are individually
less one than an unmoved mover.
In short, Aristotle addresses both the problem of metaphysics existence
and the problem of its nature as one/many issues. The former is the principal
issue in this volume because it is Aristotles central issue in Metaphysics A-.
Aristotle addresses the latter in the rest of the Metaphysics, first, by arguing in
the central books (E-) that categorial ousia is the primary being and that form,
essence, or actualityall of which are identicalis primary in sensible ousia,
and, second, by arguing in the remaining books that the unmoved movers
constitute the primary type of ousia and the highest causes.
The main obstacle to the existence of metaphysics is its subject matters
apparent lack of unity. As the science of the highest causes of all beings, metaphysics would need to treat all beings; that is, all the causes, the principles of
demonstrationsuch as the principle of non-contradiction (PNC)that are
used in all sciences, all ousiai, all the attributes of ousiai, and any supersensible
ousiai that exist. But there are formidable arguments against including these
in one science. Among these difficulties is that including them together in
one science would imply a single science that demonstrates ousiai and knows
all attributes, that is, a science that had swallowed up every other science.
Yet, on the other hand, were they to fall to many sciences, the functions that
metaphysics is supposed to have would be divided in multiple sciences, each
of which would thereby have a claim to be metaphysics; but since no one science would encompass everything, there would be no metaphysics. Again,
the problem is that there are various topics that would need to be included
in one science if there is to be a metaphysics, but that there are strong arguments against including these topics in one science. To ask, then, whether one
of these topics falls to one or many sciences is to ask whether metaphysics
exists. These obstacles to the existence of metaphysics are included among
the antinomies that Aristotle calls aporiai; they are one/many problems.
Likewise, the difficulties in finding the causes are also one/many problems
that Aristotle presents as aporiai. I argue that nearly all of Aristotles metaphysical aporiai derive from a single assumption, namely, that a form is one.
This is also the assumption that drives Platos metaphysics; but because
Aristotle thinks that one is said in many ways, he thinks the assumption
admits of multiple interpretations and, thereby, derives multiple aporiai from
it. However, the assumption that a form is one is not merely an opinion that
Aristotle inherits from his predecessor. The form is both subject matter and
cause, and for reasons I sketched in the previous subsection, that these are
one is intrinsic to any metaphysics. Hence, the difficulties of interpreting
this assumption that constitute the metaphysical aporiai are also intrinsic
to metaphysics. It follows that the metaphysical aporiai are not expressions
of Aristotles personal struggles but problems that any metaphysics would
need to resolve, even if the particular formulations some of them receive in
Metaphysics B reflect Aristotles own technical terminology.
As I said, Aristotle overcomes the obstacles to metaphysics by resolving
the one/many problems that generate them. He does so by introducing new
doctrines that undermine the assumptions on which these problems rest.
Often, though, because these doctrines do not concern one or many, their connection with the one/many problem is overlooked. The most important of the
10
doctrines is the doctrine of being. Aristotle sets it out piecemeal in book by

showing, one aporia at a time, how being must stand if the first four aporiai are
to be resolved. Approaches to the doctrine of being in the literature generally
fall into two camps. One group of scholars holds that being is the widest and
emptiest universal, the other that being or, rather, being qua being is simply
ousia. The latter view has the advantage of making the account of being in
of a piece with the treatment of the ousia that comes later, whereas the former
would make the treatment of being distinct from and incompatible with the
inquiry into ousia. But the identification of being qua being as categorial ousia
is at odds with the way Aristotles argument unfolds in the opening chapters
of book . The view that emerges there falls between these alternatives. If the
first takes the treatment of being as an ontology, and the second as part of a
theology, my view might be called, with reservations, a rich ontology. When
Aristotle claims in the first sentence of that there is a science that studies
being qua being, he uses this phrase as what, in mathematics, is called a
placeholder. It refers to the nature that all beings have, whatever that nature
would turn out to be. Insofar as the phrase refers to a nature that belongs to
each being, it extends most widely, but insofar as it refers to a nature, it must
signify some sort of ousia. But Aristotle is not assuming what this nature is:
he uses the phrase being qua being to designate what his inquiry seeks to
delimit. Often, he uses ousia in the same way here. Thus, Aristotle argues
that being is some sort of genus or quasi-genus because all beings are or are
related to primary being, ousiathis is the important doctrine that being is
a pros hen, a central claim of the Metaphysicsbut he does not explain what
ousia is or expound the relations to it. Insofar as being is a genus, each being
has some nature or ousia. In treating each being qua being, metaphysics is
treating each being as if it were an ousia, that is, as if it were separate. This
is what I call a rich ontology. Inasmuch as mathematics treats quantities
as separate and, thereby, as ousiai, metaphysics resembles mathematics. Like
mathematics, the science that treats being qua being pursues a useful fiction that allows its subject to be treated by a science. Ousia here does not
have its standard categorial sense, nor does it when Aristotle first enunciates
the pros hen doctrine of being in 2. Rather, the term refers to each instance
of the quasi-genus of being taken as if it were a separate nature. As such, it
admits of attributes (also beings, of course). Aristotle delimits the nature of
this ousia and its relation to its attributes by showing that doctrines about them
resolve individual aporiai. As he does so, the genus of being becomes more
determinate, and the nature of each being is shown to be simply its essence
( ). That is, each being is an ousia in a way because it has its own
essence (cf. Z 4, 1028a2832), and it is this very weak unity that allows all of
being to be treated by one science.
11
All this must appear highly implausible. I am not aware of another

interpretation like it, and originality about a text as intensely studied as the
Metaphysics will provoke skepticism. However, there is strong textual evidence that Aristotle does take being as a kind of genus, and readers who can
overcome the initial shock will eventually find the interpretation powerful
and surprisingly plausible. Unlike Plato or the Eleatics, Aristotle puts being at
the opposite end of an ontic hierarchy from his highest causes, the unmoved
movers, which are also known by metaphysics. Being is the least real and the
least knowable of any entity. Aristotles remarks about it are neither vague
nor ambiguous; they reflect its ontic status.
As I said, Aristotle develops his account of being by showing, in succession,
what being must be like if each of the first four aporiai is to be resolved. It is
assumptions about being and science that generate the one/many problems
that constitute the first set of aporiai, and Aristotle resolves the aporiai by modifying these assumptions. Because the metaphysical aporiai are contradictions
that must be resolved, their being resolved by certain assumptions counts as
evidence for the truth of those assumptions. Insofar as Aristotle can show that
only these assumptions can resolve the aporiai, he has a strong argument for
the assumptions. He does not specifically show that only these assumptions
will resolve the aporiai, but there should be no doubt that he intends to argue
for the assumptionsthey include his most important metaphysical doctrines.
If, however, Aristotle is using the aporiai to argue for assumptions that resolve
them, then his arguments need to be read upside down: what his text presents
as a conclusion is often a premise that Aristotle is using to argue for what is,
in the text, ostensibly a premise. This seemingly upside down reasoning is
what I call aporetic argument.
In the course of resolving the initial aporiai, Aristotle shows how metaphysics is possible if its subject matter, all beings, has certain features. In
particular, all beings must constitute a sort of genus whose instances have
natures, and these natures must be: hierarchically ordered, admit of per se
attributes that either belong to or are related to their formulae, and subject
to the principles of demonstration. Like other genera, being has species, and
it also has principles and attributes that are proper to it. These features of
being resolve the first four aporiai. The fifth aporia asks whether non-sensible
beings are included in the subject matter of metaphysics. It is not entirely
resolved with the others, but Aristotle contributes towards resolving it when,
in discussing the PNC, he extends the principle to all beings and shows,
thereby, that sensibles are knowable in themselves without resorting to
non-sensible intermediates or forms.
Among the principles that metaphysics treats is the PNC. The impossibility
of arguing for the PNC is often noted. In what he presents to us as a series of
12
such arguments, Aristotle stresses repeatedly that a person must assume a

word signifies one thing, an essence, in order to disable denials of the PNC.
In my view, Aristotle does not aim to argue for the PNC but, rather, for the
ostensible premise of his argument. This premise is that an ousia or essence
exists. He argues that any ousia must be subject to the PNC. If the PNC holds,
there must be at least one ousia. That is to say, Aristotle takes the PNC to hold
if there is at least one entity of which it holds. Most readers, however, assume
that the PNC would hold as a logical principle only if it had no exceptions.
For Aristotle the question of the principles extension is a separate issue. It is
tantamount to asking how many ousiai there are. In fact, Aristotle does argue
for universal extension. He does so by disabling arguments that would exclude
certain kinds of beings from its scope. Since the principle can hold only of
what is a one insofar as it has an essence and is, thereby, an ousia, to say that
the PNC extends to all beings is to say that every being is an ousia in some
obviously extended sense.
The attributes of being qua being are, Aristotle explains, same, other, contrariety, prior, posterior, whole, part, genus, species, and so forth ( 2, 1005a1318).
They are attributes of being because they fall outside of a single categorial
genus. He treats these in book , and some receive a more extensive discussion
in I. Were being a proper genus, its attributes could be demonstrated to belong
to each of its instances in respect of the essential nature of the genus. Because
being is a genus only in a way, its attributes do not follow from its nature.
Rather than deriving them from a nature, Aristotle traces them to a nature
upon which they depend. In each case he sets out the different ways these
attributes are said, and he often traces them to a primary way that depends
on some nature. It is, indeed, a crucial feature of metaphysical method, in
contrast with the scientific method spelled out in the Organon, that in the treatment of the attributes of being, tracing to a primary instance substitutes for
demonstrating that attributes belong to a genus in respect of a common nature.
Book s discussions of two attributes, being and one, serve as bases for more
sustained treatments later, but the details of the books other discussions are
not nearly as important to metaphysics as ground for including them within
this science and the way they can be known.
In sum, what Aristotle produces in the first five books of the Metaphysics
is a sustained argument for the possibility of metaphysics that sets out what
I call a rich ontology. It is rich, first, because it is about neither an empty
universal nor categorial ousiai but all beings or, better, every individual being
treated as an ousia and, second, because this way of treating beings allows
every being to have per se attributes and principles, like proper genera.
Although Aristotle justifies treating each being as an ousia, he does not and
cannot expound the nature that each being possesses: beings share only
13
the fact that they have a nature, not any particular categorial character. That
is why, for all Aristotles talk of per se attributes of being qua being, the entire
treatment of being never gets beyond the is it? question. Aristotle shows
that each being has an essence, can have attributes like same and other, and
is subject to the PNC. He does not give a determinate account of what being
is in the opening books of the Metaphysics.
When Aristotle considers, in the central books, what being is, the inquiry
takes a new turn. He pursues the question what is being? by examining
each schema of the many ways being is said per se, that is, the categories,
true/false, and actuality/potentiality. He aims to find the being that is primary
in each schema, and he is guided in this search by the assumption that what
is most one will be primary. The complicating considerations are that there
are many ones and that what is most one in one way need not be most one in
another. Nonetheless, there is a remarkable convergence: the primary category
is (categorial) ousia; primary in this category is form, essence, or actuality; and
these latter are also primary in the two other schemata of being. Form is both
one in formula and one in number. However, the form under consideration is
the form of sensibles: it only exists in a composite with matter, and form and
matter together are one only in a way. Lacking the highest unity, the forms
of sensible ousiai cannot be the highest causes.
If unity is the criterion of a cause, the first cause should be most one. There
are several candidates that are strong contenders for first cause because of
their unities: the essence of the one, the unit, the unmoved mover, and the
one which, together with the indefinite dyad, is said to generate the forms
or form-numbers. Surprisingly, the unmoved mover turns out to be the most
one. It is one in number because it lacks the matter that would make a form
have many instances. The unmoved mover is also an ousia. Since the other
candidates are not ousiai, they depend upon something else and, thereby,
fail to be most one. Among these unsuccessful candidates, the essence of the
one or, equivalently, the one whose essence this is turns out to be least one.
It signifies collectively a species in each genus that holds a special position
in respect of the other species in that genus: all these special species are one
by analogy. Nonetheless, this analogical unity has an important role to play
in the Metaphysics, and it remains important in Aristotles special sciences. In
showing its subordination to the primary ousiathat is, in showing that an
unmoved mover is more one than the essence of oneAristotle is, in effect,
showing how these sciences depend on metaphysics. In general, he needs not
only to determine which candidate is the first cause, but also to show that it can
account for the other candidates and, in particular, for their each being one.
In sum, the metaphysical argument that emerges from the present volume
and its two sisters is surprisingly coherent. Aristotle uses the one/many
14
problem as a tool to argue for his most characteristic doctrines, and we can
get a handle on what these doctrines are by considering what his arguments
support. The process of delimiting features of being and ousia by raising
and resolving one/many problems about them is successive. What can be
said about them differs at different stages of the inquiry. One dimension
of Aristotles account of being is completed when he concludes book . In
order to determine the nature of being, he begins in book E to consider
which beings are primary, and that is a causal account that leads to ousia
and, ultimately, primary ousia, the unmoved movers. My contention here is
not only that Aristotle uses one/many in his argument, but also that this
argument appears in his text or, rather, that his text is so arranged as to lead
astute readers to follow the path I have sketched.
Let us ask, then, how does this argument appear in the text? In the first two
chapters of Metaphysics A, Aristotle sketches the requirements for what he
calls wisdom and we call metaphysics. He is particularly concerned with
metaphysics architectonic relation to other sciences by virtue of its treating
the first causes of all things. The remainder of Metaphysics A and all of tiny
book constitute an extended treatment of the four causes. Although Aristotle
is ostensibly reviewing the causes his predecessors propose, he distinguishes
those who propose one cause from those who propose many in each kind,
and he argues against the adequacy of just one kind of cause. The assumption
throughout is that, whatever else it might be, a cause must be one. Hence, some
philosophers propose that the cause is simply the one itself, and others propose
as causes the things that they think are each most one. Thus, Plato takes the
forms to be causes because they are one. Although Aristotle is generally supposed to object to Platos separating his forms, a close look at his arguments
against the forms shows that he aims to argue that they cannot be one in the
ways Plato ascribes to them.
Whereas Metaphysics A shows that the causes must be many in kind,
Metaphysics shows that they cannot be infinite in kind or in number. Together
they constitute part of an investigation into all the causes, one of the tasks that
metaphysics is supposed to undertake. These two books constitute a de facto
proof that all the causes are treated by one science and that metaphysics does
exist. In order to consider how many causes there are and even to consider
whether they can be treated together in one science, it is necessary to treat
them together as Aristotle does here. To determine, eventually, which is the
highest, it is also necessary to consider them all in one science. Furthermore,
Metaphysics argues that every sequence of causes begins with a first cause
15
that must be eternal or, at least, atemporal and most true. Distinguishing first
causes from other causes in this way, Aristotle makes clear that the first causes
are the proper subject of a distinct science, metaphysics. In other words, by
arguing that all sequences of causes must terminate in a first cause that is
outside of time, Aristotle argues for the existence of metaphysics. However, to
show that metaphysics exists is not to explain how it exists. The latter requires
undermining objections to its existence. The objections are raised in book B
and undermined in book .
Metaphysics B sets out fifteen aporiai by presenting arguments on both
sides of each. They fall neatly into three groups that are answered or, at least,
addressed in the three parts of the Metaphysics. The first group, aporiai 15,
raises puzzles about the possibility of metaphysics by questioning whether
the subjects that need to fall under a single science in order for there to be a
metaphysics can be treated in one science or must, rather, fall to many. The
second group, aporiai 69, raises puzzles about the unity of the principles, and
the third group, aporiai 1015, raises puzzles about specific candidates for first
principles. Although Aristotle does not explain their origin, a close look at the
arguments shows that he regards them all or nearly all as one/many problems,
for we find Aristotle assuming that a principle must be one, that the subject
of one science is one in genus, and that candidates for the highest cause can
be evaluated on their unity. I argue that nearly all fifteen aporiai arise from
the Platonic assumption that form is one and, further, that that assumption is,
in turn, an interpretation of the assumption made by all Greek thinkers that
a cause must be one. Although Aristotle inherits this assumption from his
predecessors, it is intrinsic to metaphysics. However, because one is said in
many ways, the assumption is ambiguous, and its various interpretations are
incompatible with each other, though each is seemingly true. Aristotle generates
the aporiai by counterposing contradictory interpretations of the assumption
and making arguments for each side. It follows that the aporiai are as intrinsic
and necessary to metaphysics as the assumption that a cause is one. Progress
in metaphysics requires working through these aporiai, Aristotle claims. A
central thesis of this book is that Aristotle supports his metaphysical doctrines
by showing they resolve contradictions. Since a contradiction cannot be true,
a doctrine that is unique in being able to dissolve it must be true.
Aristotle resolves most of the first set of aporiai in book . The assertion
with which it opens, that there is a science that studies being qua being and
what belongs to it per se, is a conclusion that Aristotle argues in 23. He
presents seven arguments for this conclusion, but he expresses it, in each case,
as an assertion that there is one science of certain topics that must belong to
metaphysics. That is to say, Aristotle argues existence by arguing unity. This
mode of argument makes clear that the unity of the subject matter is at issue
16
in claims of the sciences existence. Argument one of 2 shows that all the
causes are included in one science, arguments two and three that all the ousiai
are included in one science, arguments four, five, and six that all the per se
attributes are included in one science, and argument seven, in 3, that the
principles of demonstration are included in one science. These arguments
resolve, respectively, aporiai one, three, four, and two. Since we already know
from books A and that metaphysics exists, the force of these arguments is to
show how metaphysics can exist. Hence, it is not the conclusion that is important so much as the assumptions that must be made to derive it, assumptions
that include the pros hen doctrine of being. These ostensible assumptions are
the real conclusions of the arguments.
Since the seventh argument includes the principles of demonstration in
metaphysics, Aristotle considers these principles in the rest of ; specifically,
he considers the principle of non-contradiction (PNC) and, much more briefly,
the principle of the excluded middle (PEM). He proposes arguments for the
PNC, but again this conclusion is not in doubt, and the force of the argument
lies in what must be assumed to draw the conclusion. In this case, what must
be assumed is that there is some one thing that has a definition of its essence.
Initially, in 4, Aristotle argues that the principle holds of this one thing; then,
in 5, he expands its scope to all beings. Since it is only an ousia that has an
essence, that is, a formula of its ousia, it follows that every being has an ousia or
essence. Thus, Aristotles discussion of the PNC confirms that every being has
an essence. Insofar as sensibles beings can be known, Aristotle undercuts the
motivation for positing intermediates and forms and so skirts aporia five.
Aristotle treats the per se attributes of being in book . The kinds of things
that are called by the terms discussed there lie beyond the bounds of a single
categorial genus. Most scholars think that is dictionary of the meanings of
different terms, and this would seem correct if knowledge (science) is always
confined to a single categorial genus. However, shows being to be a kind
of genus with attributes, and this conclusion makes possible the treatment
of things that extend beyond individual categorial genera, such as the things
called causes. In most discussions of , Aristotle looks for the primary
type of thing and notes how the things denoted by other senses of the term
are related to it. The discussions of being and one (6 and 7) are especially
important here because they are the bases for more elaborate treatments
in, respectively, the central books and book I. The essential attributes that
Aristotle discusses in are only so in a way, and that derivatively. Still,
the treatment of them and the PNC are the fruits of the science of being
qua being that constitutes the first stage of what we call metaphysics. The
generic conception of being that Aristotle develops in shows that all beings
have sufficient unity to be known in one science, but Aristotle does not, and
17
cannot, tell us what nature the science grasps because beings nature has no
categorial content.
The central books explore the different ways being is said. Thus, book E
introduces the what is it? question and discusses accidental being (E23)
and being as truth in statements and thoughts (E 4). Books Z-H discuss
categorial being. 19 treat being as potentiality and actuality, and 10
treats being as true and false, but now as the true and false in things. The
treatment of categorial being begins by noting that the other categories
depend on ousia because their formulae contain ousia (Z 1, 1028a3536) and
because we know them by inquiring into what they are (1028a36b2), that is,
by inquiring into their ousia. From this, Aristotle concludes that the question
what is being? amounts to what is ousia? (1028b24). That is to say, the
ousia of each being is known through categorial ousia. The rest of Z-H aims
to determine what makes something a (categorial) ousia. It is governed by
Aristotles initial assumption of the things said to be ousiai (Z2) and then
by his assumption that four causessubstrate, essence, genus, and universalcould make any of these an ousia. The first of these causes, substrate,
immediately breaks into three: the first, matter, is quickly dismissed (Z3),
the third, the composite, deferred until book H, and the second, form, equated
with the second possibility, essence (Z 6). Whatever else ousia is, it must be
one, and Aristotle defends form from challenges to its unity (Z 711), refining our grasp of form as he proceeds, until he identifies it with the ultimate
differentia in Z 12. He argues against universal (that is, one or being) and
genus being ousia (Z 1316), and he argues that form is the cause of unity in
a composite ousia (Z 17).
That sets the stage for his treatment of the composite in H. Aristotle distinguishes natural composites from artificial composites. Both have a unity
caused by the form, but the material of artificial composites remains to some
degree independent of the form. Hence, the natural composite has greater
unity. Indeed, because matter is worked up into functioning organs and the
form is just the capacity of the matter to function, a capacity the organs have
in a living body, the form and matter are in a way the same. This capacity
for action is a kind of actuality. It, rather than actual functioning, is what
makes something an ousia. Book claims that an actuality is its own end; as
such, it is one and, in particular, more one than a motion because the latters
end is always outside of itself (6, 1048b1835). The actuality that serves as
the form of a sensible ousia is its own end because the ousia acts in order to
preserve its capacity for further functioning. Insofar as it is one, this actuality
also qualifies as what is true ( 10, 1051b301052a5). Hence, form or actuality
is primary in all three per se ways being is said (the categories, truth, and
actuality/potentiality).
18
The form of a sensible ousia is, though, not thoroughly one. A form that is
itself most one because it causes unity to each composite and that is, accordingly, unable to exist apart from a plurality of composites could not be simply
one, nor many. Scholars have debated extensively whether it is properly a
universal or an individual. But it is a mistake to try to fit it into either of these.
We should rather seek to determine what kind of entity it is, and one/many
functions as a tool to delimit its character. Through this tool, Aristotle also
expands the meaning of universal and individual so that he can apply
both to the primary being.
Book I aims to do for one what the central books do for being: to inquire into
what it is. But the inquiry is stymied right away because there is no comparable
convergence of primary ones in different schemata and because the essence of
one ( ) is something distinct from any of the things that are one (I 1).
Instead, one is a quantitative or qualitative measure in each genus. These various
ones are analogous with each other. Book I is concerned with the structures that
are analogically the same in all genera, and it argues that there is a one, that is, a
primary species in each genus. There is also generally, in each genus, a species
that is contrary to the primary species, and the differentiae of all other species
in the genus are composed of the differentiae of the primary and contrary species. Aristotle uses this intra-generic structure to argue that destructibles and
indestructibles belong to different genera (I10). That dissolves aporia ten, and
his discussion of the nature of the one had undone aporia eleven.
Analogical unity and the unity of what lacks matter are two competing
characterizations of the unity of first principles. Aristotle weighs them against
each other in 15, and argues that ousia is causally prior to analogy. 610
consist of a lamentably brief treatment of the unmoved movers arguing that
they are pure actualities that are each one in number. A different sort of one in
number is explored in book M, the unit. This one is the principle of numbers
and, if numbers are forms, of forms. In books M and N, Aristotle shows not
only that the unit is posterior to primary ousiai but also how the latter account
for it and for number. Doing so, these books resolve the remaining aporiai in
group three as well as aporia five.
In sum, the problem of the one and the many opens the door to a coherent
interpretation of the Metaphysics that makes the organization of the text cogent
if not transparent. In general, the one/many problem is where Aristotle begins
his reflection. Aristotle uses one/many issues to generate the problematic he
addresses and to justify doctrines that resolve otherwise insoluble aporiai. The
one/many problem belongs to Aristotles aporetic method of argument, but
. For more discussion of Metaphysics I, see Edward C. Halper, Aristotles
Paradigmatism.
19
it drops out of the picture once Aristotles conclusions appear. That explains
why scholars have missed it.
To show that it is present and, even more, that it organizes Aristotles notoriously unmanageable text is no easy task. We need to work carefully through
the details of the text and show, at every stage, how the problem of the one and
the many can account for what we find there. Even so, there is no possibility
of a definitive proof. If I can show here that the problem of the one and the
many allows us to understand large portions of the text as contributing to
Aristotles overall argument, I will count my project a success.
Philosophically more significant is the intrinsic connection between the
project of metaphysics and reflection on the one/many problem that emerges
from this study. The organizational and foundational role of metaphysics
makes it necessarily a one over many. Some of Aristotles distinctive contribution to metaphysics is to recognize this structure and to delimit its parts
by reflexivities in being and sensible and eternal ousiai, reflexivities that not
only account for their unity but also allow for plurality.
First, some remarks on the organization of this volume. The rest of this first
chapter explores the problem of the one and the many and makes a case that
it is, in the Metaphysics, a single problem with hydra-headed manifestations.
Then, it discusses various methods that have been ascribed to Aristotle and
argues that his method in the Metaphysics is best understood as inquiry. It
concludes by noting two assumptions that deter scholars from undertaking
studies of the one/many problem in the Metaphysics. Because the ways that one
is said play such a prominent role in this study, my second chapter explores
Aristotles discussion in 6. In its proper sequence this discussion should
have been included in my sixth chapter. There are several reasons for moving
it earlier. First, understanding 6 properly will help to dispel assumptions
that have deterred scholars from examining one. Second, Aristotle constantly
refers to one in the first four books but rarely explains which sort of one he
means. We do not generally need to know which one he means, but it is helpful
to know something of the range of possibilities for the one. This is particularly important for understanding the aporiai because they often turn on the
ambiguity of a claim about unity. Third, as I noted earlier, it is expedient and,
perhaps, necessary to address widely held views of book and of terms being
pollachos legomena that are antithetical to the notion of metaphysics Aristotle is
developing. Specifically, book is widely regarded as a dictionary and pollachos
legomena as a claim about multiple meanings in language. Chapter 2 argues
against this view and in favor of what I call the three-component analysis,
Aristotle is treating things called by a single term through what are, in effect,
their essential formulae. Appreciating the ontological dimension of orients
us toward the things Aristotle discusses in the rest of the work.
20
It is important to bear in mind throughout this volume, that Metaphysics A-

constitutes only the first stage of Aristotles metaphysical inquiry. Its subject, all
beings treated insofar as each is an ousia, is the lowest and weakest cause of all
things and the least intrinsically intelligible. As Aristotle inquires into it, he is
led to higher causes, first to categorial ousia and its form, and ultimately to the
primary ousiai, the unmoved movers. That is, the science that studies being qua
being becomes, as it develops, a science of ousia. The second stage of metaphysics
is the science of causes or the science of ousia, and the last stage is theology. The
entities that serve as the subjects of these later stages of metaphysics are more
intelligible and noble in themselves but not necessarily more knowable to us.
1.2 The Problem

Are all things one or many? This question, the problem of the one and the
many, is the preeminent philosophical problem for the Presocratics. We
know this from Plato (Parmenides 128 ad) and Aristotle (G. C. A 1, 314a813;
Phys. A 2, 185a22; Met. A 8, 988b2223). Both divide their predecessors into
those who assert that all is one and those who maintain that all are many.
Foremost in the former camp are Parmenides and other Eleatics, but the
early Ionian philosophers are also monists of a sort. The latter camp includes
those philosophers who are reacting against Parmenides denial of motion,
such as Empedocles, Anaxagoras, and the atomists. Such, at any rate, is the
way Plato and Aristotle present the history of Greek philosophy. Both are
notoriously poor as historians of philosophy: they discuss the development
of a problem only if they themselves are interested in pursuing it, and even
then they formulate others doctrines in their own terms. It is difficult to
learn from them how other philosophers pose and pursue issues because
they put too much of their own philosophies into their characterizations of
others. However, the very reasons they fail as historians of philosophy make
their characterizations of others highly indicative of their own interests. From
their characterizations of the philosophies of their predecessors in terms
of the problem of the one and many, we can infer that this problem is very
important for their own philosophies.
It is clearly so for Plato. After claiming that his predecessors were addressing the problem of the one and the many (128ae), he devotes the bulk of
the Parmenides, a dialogue whose importance he notes in another dialogue
(Sophist 217c), to examining what he refers to as the one ( ), arguing both
that the one is one and many (142d145a) and that it can be neither (137cd).
The problem also figures prominently in his Sophist (242c245e) and Philebus
(15a19a). Even when Plato does not identify it as an issue, there are many
21
passages where he has Socrates insist that justice, beauty, or some other form
is not an act or character trait but that single nature, immobile and apart by
itself, in respect of which all such instances manifest the characters they do
and against which they are measured (Phaedo 80ab). Insofar as the form is
taken to be a one over many, the problem of the one and many is central to
all of Platos work (cf. Republic 467b, 478e479a).
That Aristotle is concerned with the problem of the one and the many may
seem less clear. In the final book of the Metaphysics, he claims that Plato and
his followers treat the problem in an outmoded way (N 2, 1088b351089a6).
They think that all will be one, as Parmenides claims, unless they can show
that there is some element, besides Being, from which a plurality can be generated. Hence, they posit the One, that is, Being, and its contrary, the indefinite
dyad or something similar, as the elements of all things (1088b146; b2830).
(Aristotle may well be thinking of the form of Other in the Sophist [257bc].)
Although Aristotle is rejecting the Platonic approach to the problem, he is not
rejecting the problem. Indeed, later in the same chapter, he poses the problem as how beings are many (1089b2022). As he explains, the issue is not
only how there can be a plurality of ousiai, but also how a being can be ousia
as well as attributes and relations (1089b2224), and how there can be many
instances of each category (1089b2430). Aristotle thinks both the plurality
of categories and the plurality of instances of a single category are explained
by matter that differs in each genusin this respect his matter plays the role
that the Other does in the Sophistbut more important for us now than his
solution is his continued interest in what is clearly a version of the problem.
To ask how things can be many, as Aristotle does in this passage from the end
of the Metaphysics, is clearly another way of asking whether all things are many
or one, the more canonical version of the one/many problem.
Elsewhere, Aristotle formulates the problem differently. There are many
passages in the corpus where he limits the scope of the problem to some
particular subject by asking whether it is one or many: Are the principles of
motion one or many (Phys. A 2, 185b15)? Are there one or many principles of
soul (De Anima A 2, 405a23; cf. 404b3031)? Similarly, Aristotle asks whether
the good is one or many (N. E. A 6; A 7, 1097a2224), and he inquires whether
there are one or many universes (De Caelo A 89; Phys. 1, 250b1517). In the
Metaphysics, in particular, many passages inquire whether some subject is one
or many: Much of book A is taken up with the questions whether the causes
are one or many, and if many, how many they are (A 37). In book B Aristotle
asks whether one or many sciences investigate all the causes, whether one or
many sciences investigate the principles of ousia and the principles of demonstration, whether one or many sciences investigate all ousiai, and whether one
or many sciences investigate ousiai and all their attributes (1, 995b420). Along
22
with asserting the number of ousiai in book (1, 1069a30), he asks whether the
elements of all sensible, corruptible ousiai are one or many (1069a3233)a
question he takes up in 23. Later in this latter book, he asks whether the
unmoved movers are one or many (8, 1073a1415) and argues that the heavens
are one (1074a3138). These queries clearly concern their distinct subjects;
respectively, motion, soul, universe, good, cause, ousia, unmoved movers, and
the heavens. It is not obviousindeed, at first glance, not even plausiblethat
they all address the same problem. True, the general problem are all things
one or many? has nearly the same form as the more specific problem, is X
one or many? Does this similarity of form justify the conclusion that all these
are versions of the same problem?
No. In general, any question about a subject X falls to the science or sciences
whose subject matter contains X. Still, there is one key methodological respect
in which all these questions are indeed the same: Aristotle raises a one/many
question about a topic for the purpose of determining its nature. Whether
the subject is a single thing or some sort of plurality is an important clue to
what that subject is. Consider the discussion that occupies much of Physics A.
Although the issue is explicitly how many principles there must be if there is
to be motion, Aristotles arguments about the number of principles determine
the characters those principles must have. He argues against one principle on
the ground that a universe with a single principle could only be static (though
he notes that to consider whether being is one and static belongs to another
disciplinemetaphysics, of course [184b24185a3]), and he argues against two
principles on the ground that, though motion is between contraries, contraries cannot act on each other. That is, neither one principle nor two principles
alone could account for motion. The minimum number of principles needed
for motion is three. And in the course of arguing how many these principles are,
Aristotle determines what they are, namely, two contraries and an underlying
matter on which they act.
Similarly, Aristotle considers whether the causes are one or many in the
Metaphysics A in order to determine the character of the causes, as we will see
in Chapter 3. He is also concerned in the Metaphysics to determine how many
ousiai there are. Sometimes he talks directly about the number of ousiai ( 2,
1004a24), but more often he considers whether there are ousiai besides sensible
ousiai and, if so, how many there are (e.g., B 2, 997a34b19; 5, 1009a3638;
Z 2, 1028b1827; H 1, 1042a624). Ultimately, he asserts that there are three
(kinds), two sensible and one immobile ( 1, 1069a3036). Because Aristotle
assumes that sensible corruptible ousia constitutes one kind, to ask how many
ousiai there are is to ask what sorts of ousiai there are. In general, then, when
Aristotle asks how many of some subject there are, his real concern is what
23
they are. Since metaphysics is concerned to understand everything, to the

extent possible (A 2, 982a89), that is, since metaphysics seeks to know what
everything is, we would expect it to be concerned with whether everything
is one or many, the canonical one/many question.
This last question belongs exclusively to metaphysics because only metaphysics includes everything within its scope. Since everything can be treated
by one science only if everything has enough unity to be grasped by one
science, the question whether all is one or many is tantamount to the question whether metaphysics exists (though if there is only one science and no
subordinate sciences, there would also be no proper metaphysics). It is clear
that the only science that can consider whether metaphysics exists is metaphysics. Aristotles answer to the question whether all is one or many is that
everything is both one and many, as we will see. Since, though, there is some
one thing common to all beings, there is a metaphysics. Just what that one
thing is, and is not, is the issue in the present volume. We will see that this
common character depends on something else, a primary being, that is one
in a different way. Hence, it becomes necessary to ask of this primary being
whether it is one or many and how it is either. Thus, the question whether
everything is one or many becomes, in the Metaphysics, the question whether
primary being, ousia, is one or many. And this question, in turn, depends on
finding how ousia is one. In this way, what begins as one problem in metaphysics becomes, as Aristotle addresses it, a plurality of one/many problems or,
better, many formulations of the same problem.
There are at least three other general forms that the problem of the one
and the many takes in the Metaphysics. When Aristotle is convinced that
something is indeed many, he inquires into how it can be many. As we saw,
he asks how being can be many, but only because he needs to respond to
Parmenides arguments that being is one. That is to say, it is necessary to
explain how being can be many because there are powerful reasons to think
it is one. Hence, to ask, (1) how can X be many? counts as a one/many
problem. More often, Aristotle addresses the converse problem: faced with
arguments for thinking some X many, he asks, (2) how can X be one? For
example, throughout the Metaphysics central books he is concerned with
how ousia can be one because there are multiple reasons to suppose that it
. Philip Merlan, Aristotles Unmoved Movers, Traditio4 (1946):3, remarks on the
connection that questions of number have with questions of nature:
One of the basic questions in Aristotles metaphysics is: what is ?
The question, however, is often expressed in another form: how many
are there?

What is true of ousia is also true of other subjects of Aristotles inquiries.
24
is many along with a compelling reason to think it one. Then, there is the
problem of the one itself: (3) is there a one itself? and what is one itself?
Aristotle explores this issue in an aporia (1001a4b25) and resolves it in I 12.
Plato and the Pythagoreans take the one to be an ousia; others identify it with
some substrate, such as fire, water, or air (996a59).
The question (4) are there one or many knowledges (sciences) of some subject X? should be distinguished as still another manifestation of the problem
of the one and the many. Here the issue is whether the subject is sufficiently
unified to fall within a single genus or whether it must fall under multiple
genera and, hence, be known by multiple sciences. Aristotle assumes one science knows one genus ( 2, 1003b1920; An. Po. A 28, 87a38). Since the unity
or plurality of the science turns on the degree of unity of the subject matter,
to ask whether there is one or many sciences of all things is tantamount to
asking whether all things are one or many and, alternatively, to asking about
the kind of unity everything has and, thereby, about its nature. Hence, all the
various formulations of the one/many are closely connected.
In sum, Aristotle uses the problem of the one and many, in its various
formulations, as part of his method of investigating a subject. Where his
philosophical opponents in the Academy might have included all one/many
questions under one science, Aristotle relegates one/many questions about
a particular subject to the particular science that treats that subject, and
one/many questions about all things to metaphysics. In each case, a science
uses the one/many problem, in any of its various formulations, to investigate
the nature of its subject. In metaphysics, answering the canonical one/many
problem, are all things one or many, leads to a primary being, ousia, that is
itself the subject of various formulations of the one/many problem. Thus,
Aristotle considers whether ousia is one or many, and he pursues at length
the question of how it can be one.
The methodological dimension of the problem in metaphysics and elsewhere is also evident in the way that Aristotle opens most of his philosophical
works. He often begins with a one/many problem and ascribes contrary solutions to his predecessors (as did Plato, Parm. 128 ad). Since the Academy is
steeped in this problem, it is not surprising that Aristotle takes his start from
it; and this is especially true in metaphysics where, I am proposing, there is a
special connection to the one/many issue. However, even though individual
Aristotelian inquiries begin from the Academic one/many problem, in the
. The reason is that ousia is a cause and a cause must be one. The second volume of
the present study is on this portion of the Metaphysics: Edward C. Halper, One and
Many in Aristotles Metaphysics: The Central Books, 2nd ed. (Las Vegas: Parmenides
Press, 2005).
25
course of resolving it, they transform it and, ultimately, undermine it. As each
inquiry proceeds, questions of one and many recede. For example, Physics
begins by asking whether the principles of motion are one or many, ethics
by asking whether the goods are one or many. But once the nature proper to
each inquiry becomes clearnature itself in the Physics, the human good in
the Nicomachean Ethicsit becomes clear, as well, that the problem of the one
and the many was not central. Still, readers seeking to follow the processes
of reasoning through which Aristotle arrives at such conclusions need to
grasp his starting points. This is particularly important when Aristotles
doctrines are controversial, as they generally are. Grasping the problematic
from which they spring provides an important way to determine the content
of the doctrine. If I am right that the main problems Aristotle addresses in the
Metaphysics are one/many problems and that he advances his characteristic
doctrines as solutions to them, then Aristotle is arguing for his doctrines, and
we can use these arguments to get a handle on the doctrines content. As I
said, he supports his main doctrines of being and ousia by showing that they,
and they alone, resolve various manifestations of the one/many problem.
Knowing the problems and the way they are resolved is a path to knowing
the doctrines that resolve them. The significance of the one/many problem is,
thus, methodological. It belongs to Aristotles method, and it is a path that we
can reconstruct to follow his reasoning and grasp his conclusions.
Besides this methodological significance, the problem of the one and the
many has a special connection with metaphysics. We have seen that the
existence of a science of all beings, a metaphysics, requires that all beings be
sufficiently one to be known by a single science. We have also seen that as
the highest science, metaphysics stands over the many particular sciences.
Metaphysics knows the highest causes, and these are one or, at least, more one
than the causes known by other sciences. All this implies that the one/many
problem is not merely methodological, but substantive for Aristotles metaphysics and that it would, or should, be substantive for any metaphysics.
Do these intrinsic connections between metaphysics and the one/many
problem manifest themselves in the Metaphysics? Near the beginning Aristotle
characterizes the wise person, that is, the metaphysician, as one who, among
other traits, is thought to know all () to the extent possible, not having per se knowledge of each (A 2, 982a89). The knowledge of all that is not
knowledge of each must be knowledge of the universal, and this is consistent
with Aristotles claim that knowledge is of the universal (B 6, 1003a1315;
K 1, 1059b2526; K 2, 1060b20; De Anima 5, 417b2223; cf. Met. A 1, 987a57).
Since, as we saw, Aristotle also claims that one science knows one genus,
the universal that the wise man knows would seem to be some genus. Now
a universal is a one over many: it is a single character that is shared by many
26
things. Since the wise man knows all things, the universal that is the subject of
metaphysics encompasses all things. Its proper Aristotelian name is being.
The problem is that there is no common nature that all beings share and that
being is, thus, not a genus. But this problem is tantamount to the question
whether all is one or many; for insofar as being is a universal, a one over many,
all things are surely one, but if there is no nature common to all beings, they
cannot be one. To put the point another way, the Presocratic question are all
things one or many? becomes, in more characteristically Aristotelian terms,
is being one or many? and Aristotle shows that there are grounds for both
answers. Whatever holds of being, it is significant that being is not the cause
of an individuals being what it is. It is rather because this thing has a nature
that it also is and is one (1003b2933). Hence, a things nature is prior to its
being, and the first cause of all beings must be a nature that is the cause of
other natures. This latter nature must be one, because if it were composed of
parts, they would be prior, and it would not be a first cause. Aristotle accounts
for its unity by denying that it has matter and, thereby, making it its own end
and the object of its own thinking. In any case, this first cause is one in a different way than being is one. It is clear that determining which things are one
in these ways is crucial to the Metaphysics and that Aristotle ties metaphysics
to these unities.
Again, an Aristotelian science typically knows a genus through the one
character that all its instances share, and it is important that there are many
instances of this character. Metaphysics, however, knows everything universally through the highest causes. What everything shares, being and one, are
not highest causes, we will see; and what are highest causes are each one,
but one in number and, thus, one among many rather than one over many.
Hence, a science seeking the highest causes of all things must deal with
two unities, the universal unity all things must have to be known, and the
numeric unity of the cause through which they are known. These unities are
intrinsically tied to metaphysics, yet apparently at odds. In other sciences
the genus known has an essential nature that is the cause through which its
attributes are demonstrated. In metaphysics, if such a science can exist, the
universal subject and its cause are each one in different ways. The problem
is how the cause could account for the universal, that is, how the one unity
could account for the other type. This problem would be avoided if both
cause and subject were identical, if, say, both were the one itself, as some
Presocratic philosophers thought. But even were this the case, it would still
be necessary to delimit the kind of unity this one has. In general, there is no
apparent link between the two unities nor, consequently, would there be a
science of the first causes of all beings. Inasmuch as the plurality of all beings
seems insurmountable, the existence of metaphysics remains problematic.
27
To ask whether all beings meet the requirements for Aristotelian science is,
thus, to pursue the one/many problem.
Aristotle appends a quotation from Homer to the end of Metaphysics : The
rule of many is not good; let one the ruler be (1076a34; Iliad ii, 204). This
leaves no doubt that he thinks the one/many problem is ultimately resolved.
There is some one cause of all things. It is, collectively, the unmoved movers;
each is one, but it is not defined by its unity. However, my concern here is not
primarily with what Aristotles solution is, but with how his solution resolves
the one/many problem and why the problem plays the role it does.
These and my earlier remarks on the intrinsic connection between the
problem of the one and the many and metaphysics make clear the anomalies
of examining the problem in conjunction with the main lines of inquiry in the
Metaphysics: Aristotle ascribes the problem to his predecessors, but he must
deal with it himself in order to have a metaphysics; although it is absolutely
central to metaphysics, when we look closely, the problem seems to disappear.
Aristotle does not tell us that his philosophy is a solution to the problem.
What he gives us are intriguing doctrines that have remained attached to
his name, doctrines that hardly seem connected with the philosophies of his
predecessors to which he devotes so much attention but that transformed the
philosophical landscape for centuries to come. Recognizing the connection
between any metaphysics and the problem of the one and the many allows
us not just to see Aristotle within his historical context, but to see how his
metaphysical doctrines are connected with metaphysics.
One reason that the connection between the problem of the one and the
many and Aristotles main metaphysical doctrines and main lines of inquiry
has remained obscure is that Aristotle always treats unity as subordinate to
some other character. He sanctions no one itself nor is there anything whose
essential nature is to be one. Being, ousia, and an unmoved mover are each
one, albeit in different ways, but the nature of none of these is to be one.
Hence, to inquire into the unity of being or to search for the unity that serves
as a principle is always to seek some other nature that is one. In contrast, to
inquire into the being of something is to seek that things nature. Even the
Greek phrase for the being of some X ( with X in the dative) is
often rendered as the essence of X or even the nature of X, whereas the
phrase for the unity of X has no other meaning. There is, thus, little or no
substantial content to the doctrine of unity. Just why unity is secondary is
itself an important metaphysical question.
As a result of this priority relation, our trying to follow Aristotles treatment
of the problem of the one and many is a bit like seeking a mirage: the closer
we get to finding a solution, the more unity and plurality tend to slip away,
and we are left with something else. And here the something else turns out
28
to be Aristotles doctrine of being and ousia, a doctrine of more intrinsic interest than that of unity. This lack of substantial content in Aristotles doctrine
of the one and its subordinate, methodological role is one of the obstacles to
pursuing the problem of the one and many, for scholars typically study a topic
with a view to finding Aristotles doctrine of it.
There is another, weightier obstacle to seeing the connection between the
problem of the one and the many and the main lines of Aristotles inquiry
into being. Since Aristotle thinks that being, one, and many other key
terms are said in many ways, the question whether being is one or many
admits manifold interpretations. Thus, an inquiry into being can be construed as a series of inquiries into different ways of being, and in each case
Aristotle would be concerned with whether that particular way of being
is one or many or with how it is one (cf. Z 1, 1028b45). Since one is also
said in many ways, to ask whether being is one is potentially many as well.
At one point in the Physics, for example, Aristotle notes that Parmenides
claim that all is one admits of multiple interpretations because there are
different types of one (A2, 185a20b25). He then proceeds to argue that the
claim cannot be true of any of these ones. Turning this procedure around,
we can surmise that to decide whether all beings are one or many or whether
principles are one or many, we must consider multiple ways things can be
one. In short, the multiplicities of being and of one insure a multiplicity of
one/many problems.
We can distinguish two groups of interpretations based on the two multiplicities. First, since being is said in many ways, to ask whether being is
one is to ask whether each type of being is one and also to ask whether things
said to be in any of these ways are collectively one. Aristotle needs to address
this latter question in order to decide whether all beings can fall under one
science. There is no obvious connection between these interpretations of the
question, apart from the name being that they share. Aristotle also needs to
ask whether there is, among these various beings, something that is most one
and, therefore, qualifies as a principle or the highest principle. There are, thus,
two types of one/many problems based upon the ways of being. In Chapter4,
I will argue that all of Aristotles aporiai fall into one of these two groups and
that they arise, in part, because Aristotle assumes that beings known by a
science must be one and that there are multiple things that count as beings.
Second, since one is also said in many ways, Aristotle also needs to consider what sort of one the beings will have. Aristotle considers and rejects,
in Metaphysics I, there being a one itself. As I said, Aristotle considers one to
belong to something else, but different sorts of one belong to different sorts
of beings: the one that belongs to all beings, the universal, is different from
the one that belongs to a highest cause. At issue is what sort of unity different
29
sorts of being have and whether the unity of each sort suffices for the role
it plays in metaphysics. A number of Aristotles aporiai arise from contrary
arguments pointing to somethings having different types of unity.
In short, the plurality of ways of being and ways of being one means that
any claim about being and one without qualification is subject to multiple
interpretations. The problem of the one and the many, in Aristotles terms,
are all beings one or many? becomes a plurality of problems merely by
recognizing the plurality of ways being and one are said.
The multiplicity of these problems and Aristotles formulating some
of them in quite different terms obscures their origin in the Presocratic
problem. To come to grips with the Presocratic problem will require either
determining which one and which being is at issue and, thereby, finding
the canonical form of the problem, or working with a multiplicity of problems. In either case, the problem is elusive because it requires investigating
some other subject, such as, being or ousia. Finally, Aristotles solution to
these problems through his own doctrines seems to render them obsolete.
Like Wittgensteins ladder, the problem of the one and the many is set aside
when it is solved.
These brief remarks indicate the scope of the problem of the one and the
many in Aristotles Metaphysics, and also something of its complexity. To make
the problem at once manageable and useful for understanding the Metaphysics,
I focus on three main concerns in the three volumes of this study:
(1) What role does the one/many problem play in the Metaphysics, and how does
it relate to the larger concerns of that work? I have been suggesting here that
the problem is central for understanding Aristotles method. He begins with
the problem of the one and the many because his philosophical predecessors
take it to be the central problem of metaphysics. Although Aristotle agrees
that it is indeed intrinsic to metaphysics, he uses it to arrive at principles of
being that, while each one, are prior in their nature to unity. Hence, Aristotle
transforms metaphysics from an inquiry into the problem of the one and the
many into an inquiry into being. The problem of the one and many remains as
part of metaphysics, but it serves as part of the methodology that determines
the nature of being.
(2) Why is metaphysics a science of being instead of a science of one? The
problem of the one and the many assumes that one is prior to a plurality
because a many must consist of many ones. Without a one there could be no
many. Aristotle argues that there is no one itself, and that unity is always
something that belongs to something else, to a nature that is prior. It follows that an inquiry into first principles and causes must ultimately be more
interested in the other natures than in one. Even so, it is unity that signals a
subject and a principle, and metaphysical inquiry relies on unity. Hence, there
30
remains some ground for taking metaphysics as a science of one. There is a

third alternative that must also be dismissed: metaphysics is equally a science
of both. Aristotle typically mentions one and being in the same breadth ( 2,
1003b3234; 10, 1018a3536; I 2, 1053b25), and most scholars do not distinguish between them. They would, apparently, be hard pressed to distinguish
a science of being from a science of one.
(3) What is Aristotles account of the one? Aristotle dedicates Metaphysics I to
the one. However, one is said in many ways, and there is a great deal to be
learned about the various ones from the rest of the Metaphysics. The coherence of the Metaphysics has been much discussed in the literature, but very
little attention has been paid to the one. We will see in this volume that the
first books of the Metaphysics, A-, are concerned with the unity that belongs
to each being; it is the same unity that allows being to be treated by a single
science and, thereby, makes metaphysics possible. However, this one depends
on another entity or entities that are prior because they are each more one.
These are the beings that are primary among the ways that being is said. In
the central books, Aristotle identifies them allnamely, form, essence and
actualitywith the cause of ousia. In the final books of the Metaphysics, I-N,
Aristotle explores the essence of one ( ), that is, what makes a one
be a one, as well as the unities that belong to the entities that vie for the title
of primary ousia.
Apart from Aristotles fine-grained examination of the ways one is said,
the subject of the next chapter, it is well to note the more mundane grammatical ambiguity of the Greek for the one . This expression can refer to: (1)
any thing that is one, (2) the one itself, (3) the character that things which are
one share, oneness or unity, or (4) any particular thing as distinguished from
some other thing. There is no English rendering that captures this multiplicity,
and each rendering suggests one or another of these senses. Speaking of the
one or, worse, the One suggests the second sense; unity expresses the
third sense; one could convey the first sense, but it is also used in contexts
where the fourth sense is intended, contexts that have nothing to do with the
problem of the one and many. One is used so often in English in the last
sense, that the reader easily passes over it without registering its technical
import. Often, the ambiguity of interpretation is important for understanding the range of options that Aristotle has before him. Thus, the answer to
his question what is ? could be any of the first three senses. Plato
. See Cornfords discussion of the same ambiguity in Platos Parmenides: Francis

Macdonald Cornford, trans. and ed., Plato and Parmenides: Parmenides Way of
Truth and Platos Parmenides (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1960),111.
31
and the Pythagoreans take the question as an inquiry into the One(2),
whereas the Ionians would suppose Aristotle to be seeking the thing that is
one (1) and, thereby, the substrate of all attributes. Besides these, Aristotle
thinks that an inquiry into one could be seeking the essence of one (3) (B4,
1001a712; I 1, 1052b17). We cannot understand Aristotles question unless
we see it as broad enough to be answered with any of these three. Since any
English rendering of the question seems to exclude some of them, we cannot
adequately render .
Faced with this problem, I could use the untranslated, but transliterated
Greek term, adopt one rendering and use it consistently, or render
indifferently as one, the one, and unity as best suits the context. I have
adopted the analogue of the first option for and . The problems
in rendering these terms, especially the former, are well-known. In each case,
there is no equivalent English term that expresses its basic meaning. The case
of is the opposite; here it is the variety of possible and familiar senses
and the difficulty of capturing them all that make the Greek term difficult to
render. Transliteration would obscure its meaning: references to the problem
of the hen and the many might be accurate but are scarcely intelligible. A single
rendering would likewise obscure some of Aristotles usage. Accordingly, I
shall render variously as one, the one, or unity in accordance with
the context. I shall reserve one for cases where the meaning is ambiguous or
underdetermined. Nearly always, English expressions that connote one should
be understood as broadly as possible. We should bear in mind that what is
one? is a question that Aristotle raises and pursues in the Metaphysics. This
question would be superfluous and unintelligible if we could give one a firm
sense before the inquiry. My renderings may be confusing sometimes but less
often, I think, than the alternatives.
1.3 The Method

Even a cursory glance at the Greek text of the Metaphysics suffices to indicate
that the author has omitted a good deal of exposition. Claims and arguments
are too terse, transitions to new topics are insufficient, promises of later
discussions are not kept, references to earlier discussions are ambiguous,
some discussions are repeated with variations, and the connections between
various parts are only occasionally expounded. What is most disconcerting for the reader is the frequent absence of those signposts that indicate
. See Owens, Doctrine of Being,13754.
32
where he stands in respect to the progress of an argument or how a discussion serves to advance an argument. The organization of the text and such
seemingly pedestrian questions as where one argument ends and another
begins are often the concern of Aristotles Greek and medieval commentators.
Through their efforts we possess a reasonably coherent reconstruction of the
text. There are, of course, significant differences among these commentators,
but they are in substantial agreement about a large body of doctrine ascribed
to Aristotle.
Scholars in the last century tried to free themselves from this tradition
in order to confront the texts on their terms. On the most obvious, literary
level the text that we have does not appear to be a unified work for the reasons mentioned. However, the issue is not whether its parts were written
expressly for their apparent role in the whole, but whether it is philosophically consistent. One of the most influential movements toward alternative
reconstructions has been the application of developmental methods, first
to the Metaphysics and then to all of Aristotles works. Whereas medieval
commentators, when faced with apparently conflicting texts, had sought an
interpretation that would make them consistent, modern scholars take the
opposite approach. They embrace the inconsistency and assign the different
texts to different periods of Aristotles development. Indeed, through much
of the twentieth century, scholars have been actively looking for textual
inconsistencies that could serve as evidence of different periods at which
passages were written. Conversely, with some notions about the stages and
the course of development, scholars could reconstruct individual passages
and reorganize the text. It is hard to convey the excitement that the developmental movement provoked: what had been supposed to be a repository
of a dead unitary system suddenly became the record of a dynamic multifaceted development. One needed merely to rethink the texts in this new
way to make them come alive.
. Alexander of Aphrodisias, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria, ed. Michael
Hayduck, vol. 1 of Commentaria in Aristolelem Graeca, Prussian Academy Edition
(Berlin: George Reimer, 1891), and Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the
Metaphysics of Aristotle, trans. John Patrick Rowan (Chicago: H. Regnery Co.,
1961), are the most useful among these commentators. Thomas divides the text
into lessons, and he begins each by describing the basic organization of a
section of text.
. Owens, Doctrine of Being,83106, distinguishes the methodical sequence of the
books from the chronological sequence in which they were composed. He omits
, K, , and N from the methodical sequence. Michael Frede, Essays in Ancient
Philosophy (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1987),82, notes that the
beginning of Z announces discussions that we find in books and MN, but that
the latter books were not written for this purpose.
33
The first and most influential scholar to apply developmental methods

to Aristotle was Werner W. Jaeger, and the Metaphysics was the subject of
his groundbreaking book.10 Apart from the roughness of Aristotles text, he
builds his case, first, on the contrast between Aristotles occasional references
to himself with the Platonists as we and his more verbally distant criticisms
of Platonists and, second, on the existence of doublets, two texts that cover
the same ground in similar ways. He takes the latter to be written at different
times and to be a mark of the unfinished state of the text we have. According to
Jaeger, Aristotles contrasting references to Platonists signal his own distance
from them: Aristotle began his career as a Platonist and gradually became
more of an empiricist. Hence, book is relatively early and the central books
somewhat later. Latest of all are Aristotles empirical investigations in his
biological works.
Other developmentalists conceive of the course of development differently. It
has been proposed, for example, that as a young philosopher Aristotle rebelled
against his teacher and later came to see that there was more to Platonism
than he imagined.11 Thus, on this account, he rejected Platonism when he discovered early on that the same term could be said in many ways without any
common character and, later in his career, came to recognize that, at least in
some cases, the different ways are related to some primary meaning.12 What
is most interesting for developmentalists is not the doctrine of a particular
text, but the reconstruction of how Aristotle came to hold that doctrine and
why he eventually gave it up. The aim is to find decisive arguments in the text
against positions that Aristotle himself holds or held at some time.13
10. Werner W. Jaeger, Studien zur Entstehungsgeschichte der Metaphysik des Aristoteles
(Berlin: Weidmann, 1912). The arguments of this book are principally philological. In Werner W. Jaeger, Aristotle: Fundamentals of the History of His Development,
2d ed., trans. Richard Robinson (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1967) [originally published in 1923], 167227, there are more philosophical grounds for the
development.
11. This view is argued by the authors collected in: Ingemar Dring and G.E.L.
Owen, eds., Aristotle and Plato in the Mid-Fourth Century: Papers of the Symposium
Aristotelicum Held at Oxford in August, 1957, Studia Graeca et Latina Gothoburgensia,
vol. 11 (Gteborg: Elanders Boktryckeri, 1960). It might not be a coincidence that
the rebelliousness of youth was a popular catch phase at the time these essays
were written.
12. G. E. L. Owen, Logic and Metaphysics in Some Earlier Works of Aristotle, in
Aristotle and Plato in the Mid-Fourth Century: Papers of the Symposium Aristotelicum
Held at Oxford in August, 1957, ed. Ingemar Dring and G.E.L. Owen, Studia
Graeca et Latina Gothoburgensia, vol. 11 (Gteborg: Elanders Boktryckeri,
1960),16390.
13. Russell Dancy helped me appreciate developmentalism. On the dynamic character of developmentalism and its more recent history, see the Introduction of
34
There are several general problems with developmentalism. First, all

developmental schemes are based on hypotheses about the way that Aristotle
developed. Since there is nothing in his texts about how he developed, every
hypothesis about what is early and what is late is a reconstruction without
any textual support. As we have just seen, these hypotheses are incompatible
with each other, and there is no way to decide between them. Second, there
is an impetus for developmentalists to speak of more and more stages. The
initial formulations of developmentalism were too coarse to be of much help
with many passages that seemed to fall under none of the identified stages.
But with more refinements made to accommodate individual texts, the stages
become more difficult to apply to other texts and, consequently, less helpful
for interpretation. Third, an individual passage interpreted on its own apart
from any contextas it must be if it might stem from a different period than
the surrounding passagesis likely to be ambiguous, and not being able
to appeal to the context deprives us of what could be important clues to its
meaning. Finally, it is implausible to speak of a stage of development if what
are presumed to be contradictory perspectives can be found in a single coherent passage.
The successor to developmentalism might be called the philosopher at
work interpretation.14 Currently the most widely accepted way to read the
Aristotelian corpus, it is compatible with developmentalism, but it is agnostic
about how that development proceeded.15 Its proponents reason that we are
not justified in assuming that the texts we have are single works because we
lack evidence that Aristotle did not develop or that he assembled his writings
William R. Wians, ed., Aristotles Philosophical Development: Problems and Prospects

(Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 1996), ixxiv. Among the essays
in this book, John Rist, On Taking Aristotles Development Seriously, 35973,
does a particularly good job of making a case for developmentalism as a way to
wrestle with a philosophers dynamic thought.
14. I have taken this title from one of the chapter headings in J. L. Ackrill, Aristotle
the Philosopher (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1981),10.
15. Terence Irwin, Aristotles First Principles (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988) is an
example of someone who combines both approaches. Unlike those who understand development in respect of Platonism, he advances a path of development
according to which Aristotle comes gradually to work out his own philosophical
difficulties (pp. 1113). But he still regards particular passages of the Metaphysics
as Aristotles exploratory probes.
The commentaries in the Clarendon Aristotle series are all done in this style. Each
examines individual books rather than whole works, and it emphasizes different possible interpretations of particular passages rather than a single unified account.
35
in the way they have been passed to us.16 Hence, they focus on interpreting
individual books within a work or even individual passages. According to
this approach, particular passages often show Aristotle wrestling with problems by proposing doctrines, testing them with counterexamples, coming to
see that some examples stand and others fall, and often rejecting doctrines
and particular lines of approach. What we get in the text is Aristotle doing
philosophy; we see him wrestling with issues he has not yet resolved. Even a
relatively brief passage might have evidence of several lines of thought, some
of which are merely mentioned and set aside for another occasion, others of
which are taken up and explored. The result is not definitive doctrine but the
kind of insight that one can acquire by exploring problems and probing solutions. Proponents of this approach see evidence for it in the fragmentary state
of the text. We are not working with a firm and finished system but a partial
record of a philosophers explorations. Just as someone thinking deeply about
a philosophical problem is likely to formulate and test various solutions, so
Aristotles text reflects the shifting sands of real philosophical thought.
Like the developmental approach, the philosopher at work approach is a
way of understanding the dynamic in the text. It is a way of seeing philosophy
not as doctrines laid out for readers to imbibe, but as problems that Aristotle
wrestles with and that we, too, can engage. This notion of philosophy as a
dynamic engagement with problems sets a standard that any interpretation
ought to meet.
Developmentalism and the philosopher at work approaches have another
important benefit: they force us to look closely at the details of the text and
to recognize how little of the traditional reconstruction is grounded in direct
textual evidence. The requirement of firm textual support is another standard
for any interpretation. Each of these two types of interpretation also shows
the possibility of reconstructing the texts quite differently from traditional
interpretations and, indeed, challenges us to do so. There is, therefore, a liberating dimension to these approaches.
There is also a negative side. First, there is the tendency to see Aristotle
wrestling with contemporary problems. Thus, writing early in the twentieth
century, Jaeger contrasts Aristotles idealistic period with the empiricism of
16. Ancient lists of Aristotles works, such as that of Diogenes Laertius, Vitae
Philosophorum, ed. Miroslav Marcovich, Bibliotheca Scriptorum Graecorum et
Romanorum Teubneriana (Stuttgart: B. G. Teubner, 1999),31926, do not correspond to the works that we have. Rather, our texts seem to be assemblages of
books that were separate in antiquity. For an extended discussion of this and other
catalogues, see Paul Moraux, Les Listes anciennes des Ouvrages dAristote (Louvain:
ditions Universitaires de Louvain, 1951).
36
his later works, a path of development that also happens to play out what,
at that time, was recent philosophical history.17 Writing in the 1960s, at the
height of linguistically oriented analytic philosophy, G. E. L. Owen sees the
decisive moment of Aristotles development as his discovery of polysemy.18
The current climate of increased pluralism parallels the open-endedness
of the philosopher at work approach. Just as many current philosophers
continue to pursue philosophy by exploring linguistic usage, so too accounts
of Aristotle at work often suppose him to be exploring the implications of
some linguistic usage. Typically, on such accounts he tries to solve a problem
by invoking a usage only to see the limitations of the usage, drop it, and pursue another linguistic usage.19 He is also seen to be at work when he does
something similar with empirical models. Can it be mere coincidence that
the dynamic discovered in Aristotles text so closely resembles the dynamic
of what is or was the contemporary scene? Not that there is necessarily a
conscious intention to make Aristotle a contemporary. Rather, the attempt to
recapture the dynamics of Aristotelian thought requires scholars to postulate
connections and relations that are not expressed in the text, and it is natural
that the connections they think of are those that are most alive and interesting to them. And connections with contemporary problems have, of course,
found the broadest audience: all the more reason we should be skeptical of
accounts that show Aristotle to have contemporary concerns.
There is another aspect of these two approaches that makes them problematic. The dynamic that both are concerned to find in the text is, to some degree,
personal. At one point in his life Aristotle held one perspective, and later he
came to see the problems with it and adopted another. Or, Aristotle is shown
to be virtually thinking out loud, trying one line of thought and then another.
Contrast this picture of personal struggle with the kind of dynamic that we can
find in the texts of other great philosophers. Philosophers like Spinoza, Kant,
and Hegel work by wrestling systematically with issues that they think are
intrinsic to their subjects and arriving at conclusions that generate new issues
and new advances. That is one type of dynamic. Another is to use objections
to advance and explore ideas. Plato often has one interlocutor state a view,
another interlocutor, often Socrates, raise an objection against it, and, then,
17. According to Jaeger, 610 conceive of the object of metaphysics as transcendental,
immaterial form (Aristotle,222) or, in other words, absolute thought (p. 227). Later
in his development, Aristotle recognized the possibility of immanent form and
so came to accord increased significance to sensibles.
18. Owen, Logic and Metaphysics.
19. A good example of the collective use of this method is the record of the discussions in Myles Burnyeat, ed., Notes on Book Zeta of Aristotles Metaphysics, Study
Aids Series (Oxford: Sub-faculty of Philosophy, 1979).
37
both use the objection to reject, refine, or qualify a claim. Other philosophers,
such as Augustine in his early dialogues, use objections as rhetorical devices
to lay out their positions. Still others, like Descartes, establish their positions
by raising and answering systematic objections against them.
It is possible, of course, that some objections express the philosophers own
reasons to reject a view, but there is no reason to assume this. Sometimes
objections need to be addressed in any case. What makes them interesting
and important is not that they express the views of the philosopher or anyone else but the role they play in establishing or refuting a thesis. We should
distinguish a philosophical dynamic that derives from the need to address
issues in order to establish a thesis from a dynamic that derives from the
personal struggles of the author. Someone addressing his personal concerns
would focus on what bothers him and would not consider all issues completely.
The motive for thinking Aristotles texts reflect a personal dynamic is their
seemingly inconclusive probing. Were they clearly systematic, the personal
dynamic would be implausible. Hence, the personal approach is a fallback in
the face of texts that seem too fluid to admit the kind of systematic dynamic
that Aristotles medieval interpreters tried to impose on it.
The present study proposes still another type of philosophical dynamic.
It has three components: (1) an interpretative theme, (2) a standard of truth,
and (3) a conception of method. Before explaining them, I must acknowledge
what I owe to the developmental and philosopher at work approaches. Their
radical rethinking of the text has made clear the gulf between the text as we
have it and the interpretive structure the reader needs to impose on it to make
any sense of it. Realizing that Aristotles terse texts often lack explicit connection with each other opens the possibility for alternative reconstructions.
The question is not whether to impose an interpretative structure, but which
one to impose. Moreover, they make it clear that the text comes alive when
it is seen to be wrestling with philosophical problems rather than laying out
doctrine. My concern with Aristotles text is to find his arguments, not merely
the individual arguments we can often discern clearly, but also the overall
argumentative context that these individual arguments serve. Proponents of
the philosopher at work approach will cringe at the mention of an overall
argumentative context. They focus on small bits of text to avoid this. But
who can fail to see that in avoiding a systematic reconstruction and stressing what is probing and tentative in the texts, they are themselves imposing
their own interpretive structure? Indeed, to insist that we simply lack the
evidence to determine an overall systematic organization and must, therefore,
focus on individual passages is to impose, no less than the systematizers,
an organizing principle on texts whose structural organization Aristotle
rarely explains, and it is also to dissociate particular discussions from the
38
conclusions Aristotle uses them to support and to render those conclusions

as mere assertions.
If we must impose a structure to understand the dynamic in his text, the
best we can do is let the problems Aristotle explores be his, not ours. To insure
this is the case, I focus this study around a problem or set of problems that
are, as we have seen, clearly of concern to Aristotle, the problem of the one
and the many. My choice of this interpretive theme may seem arbitrary, for
there are any number of other recognizably Greek or Aristotelian problems
that I could have used to guide my study. The problem of the one and the
many has several advantages, however. First, it is the central issue for the
metaphysics of the Academy. Second, it is the problem that Aristotle himself
starts from in the Metaphysics: the opening book is an extended treatment of
the problem of whether the causes of all things are one or many, a problem
that is tantamount to whether all things are one or many. Further, as we will
see, the problem is the basis for most of the aporiai of Metaphysics B. If we
are seeking to reconstruct Aristotles reasoning, it is crucial that we understand the problem with which he begins. Third, as I have begun to explain
here, there is a special connection between the problem and metaphysics
as Aristotle conceives of it. As the highest science, metaphysics is supposed
to include within its scope all things, but in order that it do so, all things
must somehow be one or, more precisely, have enough unity to fall under a
single Aristotelian science. The difficulty is that all things do not, apparently,
share a common character. Further, if there is a science of metaphysics, it
must somehow contain and cover the same ground as the particular sciences. What can it contribute to the knowledge of their subjects that does not
already belong to them? How, given that there are many sciences and that
their subjects do not fall under a single genus, can there be one science that
stands above them? Any advocate of metaphysics must explain its relation
to the plurality of other sciences. Thus, the problem of the one and the many
is closely tied to the existence of metaphysics as an architectonic science.
Thus, in dealing with this problem, metaphysics is wrestling with its own
existence. That is to say, it is part of the task of metaphysics to show that
such a science is possible, and accomplishing this task turns on resolving
the problem of the one and many.
Whatever the importance of this problem, we could well ask, again, why
we should adopt any interpretive hypothesis. Why not simply approach the
text as it is? It seems to me that this is just what twentieth century scholarship
has shown most clearly: the text is radically underdetermined and, therefore,
admits of multiple reconstructions. Even the philosopher at work approach
ends up proposing hypotheses about passages. Without something to guide us,
39
we cannot get very far.20 Some will prefer not to go far and, accordingly, limit
themselves to brief passages that are reliably Aristotelian. I think, though, that
what is at issue here and the solutions that Aristotle advances are too important
for this. We should strive to understand Aristotles position even if we have to
reconstruct his text. On the other hand, concern to find Aristotles solutions
often encourages scholars to focus narrowly on Aristotles doctrine of being
or ousia. This concern is as much an interpretive hypothesis as the problem
of the one and the many. The difference is that this hypothesis focuses on
the end of the discussion, whereas mine is directed toward Aristotles beginning. I think we need to look at the beginning to understand how Aristotles
dynamic progresses toward a conclusion.
So much for the theme (1). The second component of Aristotles dynamic,
(2) the standard of truth, can also be best understood in contrast with the
developmental and philosopher at work approaches. Near the end of the
first book of the Parts of Animals, Aristotle contrasts our knowledge of what is
eternal and ungenerated with generated ousiai (5, 644b22645a7). The former
are worthy and divine but only slightly accessible to sensation and, therefore,
only barely knowable by us, whereas the latter are less worthy but much more
knowable. The objects of metaphysics clearly fall in the former division. They
are most knowable in themselves, but less knowable to us (Met. 1, 993a30b11;
Z 3, 1029b312; A 2, 982a1214). This Aristotelian idea is well-known, but its
significance is seldom appreciated. If the objects of metaphysics are barely
knowable to us, we cannot know them with the same sort of accuracy and
certainty that we know the objects of mathematics, and claims about them are
likely to be more probing, tentative, and subject to revision. Significantly, it is
just because scholars have supposed passages to exhibit this probing character
that they have embraced the developmental and, especially, the philosopher
at work approaches. Again, scholars who endorse these latter approaches
take the probing and inconclusiveness of the text to reflect Aristotles personal
uncertainty and his pursuit of lines of thought that do not pan out.
20. It is instructive to read the record of discussions of Metaphysics Z contained in
Burnyeat, Notes on Book Zeta of Aristotles Metaphysics. The participants in the
discussion seem to seek as many readings of a passage as possible. Without some
hypothesis, there is no way to choose among them.
On the other hand, noting the state of the texts, Frede, Essays in Ancient
Philosophy,83, infers that Aristotle never completed his metaphysical project,
but he counsels,
We have to go by Aristotles explicit remarks about the project he is
engaged in, see to what extent this project actually is carried out, and
extrapolate on what the finished project would have looked like.
Frede is proposing what I am calling an interpretive hypothesis.
40
My contention is that the style of Aristotles text is, to some extent, intrinsic
to its subject because the ground for uncertainty lies in the subject. If this is
right, tentative or inconclusive texts need not show Aristotles exploratory
work on a problem: they may well show what we can, as human beings, know
about a subject that is intrinsically beyond our ken. If, moreover, we are to
know all things through highest principles we cannot fully grasp, what can
we know about all things? The parable of the blind people arriving at quite
different judgments about the elephant after feeling different parts of it comes
to mind: all these judgments are, to some degree, correct. The Metaphysics
is not a mystical or allegorical work, but we should consider the possibility
that the seemingly disjointed and incomplete state of the text represents not
Aristotles failed paths of exploration but our incomplete way of knowing its
object (that is, the highest principle) and perhaps the impossibility of its object
(that is, all things) being known in any real depth. In this case, the text might
be very well structured for the points Aristotle aims to make.
At any rate, if we can barely know the objects of metaphysics, then we
need a standard of truth in assessing claims about them that differs from
the standard we would use in mathematics or biology. What Aristotle
counts as metaphysical knowledge always has what seems to be a kind
of provisional, probing character to it. We will see that Aristotle accepts a
doctrine as true if it is able to resolve difficulties; he does not require that
it be directly demonstrated.
This peculiar standard of truth fits the third component of the dynamic,
(3) a conception of philosophical method. Different notions of philosophical method are reflected in the different forms philosophers work takes.
Contemporary philosophers publish papers or books that marshal arguments
to support a thesis and refute opponents. Scholastic debates are reflected in
summae where doctrines are established by raising and answering a series of
objections. In the period immediately after Aristotle, the Hellenistic period,
philosophers are associated with schools, and they speak of philosophy as
an inquiry ().21 By this, they mean the series of arguments that is
designed to lead an initiate along a path that overcomes obstacles and arrives,
by stages, at some insight. Their works are, accordingly, a series of arguments
that aim to direct thought rather than to support a particular claim. An inquiry
shares features of the probing examination of the philosopher at work, for
21. Sextus Empiricus uses this term to describe skepticism (Outlines of Pyrrhonism I 2).
The skeptic continues to inquire because he never comes to an irrefutable truth.
Sextus indicates the path, the tropes, that make continual inquiry possible. For a
more general account of philosophy as a way of life in this and other periods,
see Pierre Hadot, What is Ancient Philosophy? trans. Michael Chase (Cambridge,
Mass.: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2002).
41
both involve following out the consequences of hypotheses to test paths of

thought. However, whereas probing is open-ended and inconclusive, inquiry
is structured and directed toward, and a manifestation of, a specific end, a
way of life. Aristotles Metaphysics does not aim to initiate readers into a way
of life, but into what we could call a way of thinking. This is the path of
thought (euporia) that metaphysical problems, aporiai, obstruct, and the work of
metaphysics lies in overcoming these obstacles (cf. B 1, 995a27b2). Ironically,
Aristotle removes the obstacles to thought by showing that they are dead ends
and finding an alternative way of thinking that skirts the problems. From this
perspective, what might seem to be unsuccessful probes become positive steps
in the redirection of thought. But these reflections on Aristotles method are
too abstract to be intelligible yet.
Let me, rather, note two concrete features of Aristotles notion of inquiry.
The first is its end-directedness. After characterizing the wise man, the metaphysician, near the beginning of the Metaphysics, Aristotle concludes,
What, then, is the nature of the knowledge being sought (),
has been said, and what the object is on which the inquiry () and
the whole pursuit () must alight (983a2123, Sachs trans.).
The object sought is the knowledge of first principles and highest causes,
and the inquiry here is a structured path that arrives at this knowledge.22
Of course, the philosopher at work also has an end; what he lacks is a path
that will get him there. That is why he can only explore (cf. 2, 1004b2226).
Aristotle follows a path, and, as I said, even what seems to be dead ends
advance the inquiry.
Closely related to inquirys end-directedness is its procedural character: the
steps of inquiry move it forward and bring it closer to its end. Contemporary
philosophers often announce a conclusion and then make a case for it. Aristotles
inquiry aims to arrive at a conclusion. Thus, when he raises a question, there
is no need to assume either that he poses rhetorically a question he can answer
or that he announces his own puzzlement. Raising a question is a first step in
a procedure of inquiry that, if followed through, will lead to the discovery of
an answer. Ideally, the question itself arises from what has preceded it in the
inquiry. This approach allows us to see the problems raised in the Metaphysics
as springing from the discipline and, in general, to see Aristotles philosophical dynamic as a philosophical development within the discipline rather than a
22. The Posterior Analytics also refers to the cause, the middle term of a syllogism,
as what is sought ( ) (B 1, 89b2325; 90a56). Inquiry is a path to
arrive at this cause.
42
personal exploration. If it is right, metaphysics does not aim to prove theses or

to explore problems so much as to discover, through properly organized steps,
solutions to problems. It is not a treatise so much as an inquiry.23
Different kinds of inquiry arise in different disciplines,24 but a thought experiment from mathematical inquiry serves well to illustrate the difference between
the philosophical dynamic I am proposing and those dynamics proposed by
the two other groups of interpretations. Imagine someone trying to prove the
Pythagorean theorem. The developmentalist might notice her initial efforts to
measure the lines with a ruler, her subsequent period of puzzled reflection,
and, then, her attempts to formulate a demonstration, her success at demonstration, and, finally, her efforts to confirm her demonstration with measurements. The proponent of the mathematician at work approach would focus
on the particular paths she explores in trying to formulate the proof: perhaps,
she first tried to prove the theorem with parallel lines, saw that that would not
work, proceeded to inscribe the triangle in a circle, and so forth. The approach
I am proposing here locates the dynamic in the steps of the proof that lead to
the mathematical conclusion. Whereas the other two dynamics depend on the
particular investigator, this one springs from the discipline.
Metaphysical method is more complex than mathematical method; it does
not prove its conclusions directly. I will be arguing here that being puzzled
by aporiai and exploring unsuccessful attempts to resolve them are part of
Aristotles metaphysical method. Thus, some of the difficulties that have disturbed readers are, I think, intended to block various resolutions of problems
and thereby justify others. Of course, it will require a careful examination of
the text to show that this is Aristotles method in the Metaphysics. My contention is that the problem of the one and the many is the theme that organizes
his text, that Aristotles method consists of resolving various manifestations
of this problem in such a way that new manifestations arise and are resolved
in turn, and that the doctrines that Aristotle proposes to resolve the problem
must be evaluated with a standard of truth appropriate to a discipline that
cannot thoroughly know the causes it seeks. To support these broad contentions, it will be necessary to consider not just those passages where the problem
of the one and the many is obviously present, but nearly the entire text. In
this book I confine my attention to Metaphysics A- because it constitutes the
first part of Aristotles inquiry and because it is relatively self-contained even
though its result leads necessarily to the next stage of metaphysical inquiry
in the central books.
23. I learned that Aristotles works can be read as inquiries from Richard McKeon.
24. At N. E. 3, 1112b2123 Aristotle calls deliberation a kind of inquiry and contrasts
it with mathematical inquiry. Both are distinct from metaphysical inquiry.
43
The bulk of this book consists of a close textual analysis of Metaphysics A-.
I begin, in the next chapter, with a thorough discussion of the various ways
one is said, focusing on 6 and I 1. In the three subsequent chapters, I draw
on these results to work through A-. It is not necessarily true that we have the
text as Aristotle wrote it, but we do have it as a datum, and our study should
begin with it.25 Given the state of the text, reconstruction is clearly necessary.
My innovation is to take the one/many theme as the leading thread.
1.4 The Literature

Few works have been as intensively studied as the Metaphysics. We could expect
an extended treatment of a theme in the Metaphysics to begin by surveying the
pertinent literature. Yet, scholars have paid little attention to its treatment of
the problem of the one and the many choosing, instead, to focus on elucidating
Aristotles doctrine of being. More attention would surely have been paid to
one/many issues had their bearing on the doctrine of being been appreciated,
yet there have been many studies of themes in the Metaphysics with little or
no obvious bearing on the doctrine of being. Under the circumstances, it is
appropriate to reflect on why the problem of the one and the many is so rarely
discussed in the long history of scholarship on this work.
The commentators whom we should expect to be most alive to the problem
are Aristotles Greek commentators; for they are Neoplatonists of some sort,
and the one is the first principle for Neoplatonists and its becoming many a
major theme. On the other hand, these commentators might well have found
Aristotles subordination of unity troubling. Aristotles view of the one is
inconsistent with their own philosophy and with the Neoplatonic notion that
Plato and Aristotle espouse generally compatible doctrines.26 Could it be that
25. Owens, Doctrine of Being,8389, 1046, makes this point compellingly. He shows
that cross-references within the Metaphysics establish a consistent methodological order of the treatises. Whether or not the books of the Metaphysics were
written at the same time, they were placed in their present position in the text
for a reason.
26. Philip Merlan, From Platonism to Neoplatonism (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff,
1960),184, 2045, claims that in ascribing to Plato the doctrine that all things are
derived from two elements, the one and its contrary, and in endorsing this doctrine
himself, at least sometimes, Aristotle started Neoplatonism. I am not convinced
that Aristotle endorses this doctrine; if he did, we would expect the Neoplatonic
Greek commentators to make more of it. At any rate, those passages where Aristotle
44
the Greek commentators consciously ignore the one/many problem in order

to avoid having to confront this inconsistency? Indeed, we might wonder
whether they wrote their commentaries with precisely this aim. Of course,
Aristotle has a great deal of criticism of Plato that these commentators must
acknowledge. Perhaps, however, their unstated concern is Aristotles thorough
undermining of the problem of the one and many.27 If the dispute between
Plato and Aristotle is only about whether forms are or are not separate, they
can still belong to the same school, whereas a dispute about whether or not
the principle is the one itself signals a more serious rift. About the motivations of the Greek commentators, we can, of course, only speculate, but it is
an intriguing possibility that they intentionally minimize Aristotles critique
of the priority of the one in order to insist on his similarity to Plato.
Medieval philosophers are inspired by Aristotle and comment extensively
on the Metaphysics and other works. According to Etienne Gilson, a Christian
metaphysics must be concerned with being rather than unity because when
Moses stood at the burning bush, God announced himself to him as Being.28 If
this is correct, it may explain why Aristotles Christian medieval commentators
were not concerned with the problem of the one and the many. This problem
would belong to an apparently pre-Christian conception of metaphysics.
But why would Aristotles non-Christian medieval commentators also skirt
questions about unity? Indeed, given the emphasis on Gods unity in Judaism
and Islam, we would expect commentators from these traditions to be keenly
interested in one/many problems in Aristotle.
disputes the elements doctrine drive a wedge between himself and Plato and
challenge the Neoplatonic notion that Plato and Aristotle are compatible.
The claim that Neoplatonists harmonized Plato and Aristotle needs qualification, of course. Plotinus clearly recognizes that Aristotle does not endorse
a One beyond Being. On the other hand, he thinks this One is the source of
Intellect, and he understands the latter somewhat like Aristotle understands
his own self-contemplating intellect. Likewise, Plotinus extended discussion of
Aristotles categories, Enneads 6.13, begins with sharp criticism of Aristotle, but
proceeds to set out what is unified in the Intellect in order ultimately to ground
an Aristotelian account of the categories of material entities. It is reasonable to
say that the Neoplatonists seek to harmonize Plato and Aristotle where possible
and that that aim sometimes encourages new reflections that result in a larger
scheme that can accommodate both.
27. Syrianus, In Metaphysica Commentaria, ed. Wilhelm Kroll, vol. 6, pt. 1 of Commentaria
in Aristotelem Graeca, Prussian Academy Edition (Berlin: George Reimer, 1902), is
more openly critical of Aristotle than the other commentators. (I owe this point
to Steve Strange.)
28. Etienne Gilson, Being and Some Philosophers (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of
Mediaeval Studies, 1961),30. He is referring to Exodus 3:14. Gilsons use of this
passage to interpret Aristotles metaphysics in contrast with the Neoplatonic
emphasis on the one spurred my interest in studying Aristotles use of the one.
45
Perhaps the reason that the medieval commentators neglect the one/many
problem is simply that Aristotle does not accord it or unity a prominent place
in his characterizations of metaphysics or the highest cause. It was rather the
problem of his predecessors. He describes metaphysics as the science of being
qua being and ousia. Sometimes he suggests that questions about unity are
subsidiary and peripheral (e.g., Z 1, 1028b37); near the end, he even dismisses
a one/many problem as archaic (1088b351089a1), as noted earlier. It is
not the entire problem that is archaic, just the generation of plurality from
the one and its contrary; and this is archaic because of what the Metaphysics
achieves. Still, the classical commentators are convinced that Aristotle is
mostly right. For them, the Metaphysics belongs to contemporary science. They
are concerned with interpreting the latest results rather than discarded older
views, and they show little concern with the role these older views may play
in establishing Aristotelian doctrine. They take the Metaphysics to show that
the core of the subject is the investigation of being. They may simply see no
need to consider the rejected alternative.
As far as contemporary scholarship goes, there are two persistent assumptions that tend to obscure the role of unity: (1) the identification of unity
and the problem of the one and the many as features of Platonism; (2) the
virtual identification of one and being. Let us consider (1) briefly. A central
question for scholars is how to distinguish the doctrine propounded in the
Metaphysics from Platonism, and the problem of the one and the many has
seemed a good starting point. Whereas Plato uses the problem to treat being
and ousia as, for example, in the Sophist (243d245) and the Philebus (14c15c),
Aristotle is supposed to accord the problem far less significance.29 Likewise,
Plato consistently characterizes a form as one (e.g., Phaedo 78d, 80b), whereas
Aristotles form is actuality. Aristotles denial that form is a universala
one over manyand his distinction between form and singular individual30 makes it appear that he denies that form is one. Alternatively, Harold
29. Jaeger, Aristotle,2122, claims that Plato pursued the study of ousia to which
[he] gave new material by the problem of the one and the many. According to
Owens, Doctrine of Being,45960, while Plato begins from unity and asks how it
can be many, Aristotle starts from plurality and seeks to find some unity. Owens
maintains that the problem has a limited role in a philosophy where act is primary.
Merlan, From Platonism to Neoplatonism,16972, also identifies the problem of the
one and the many with Platonism, but he has more to say about the problem
because he thinks Aristotle treats it in book by propounding his own version
of an Academic elements doctrine.
30. Owens, Doctrine of Being,374, argues that form is neither universal nor individual. In my treatment of the central books, One and Many in Aristotles
Metaphysics: The Central Books,24244, I argue that form is both universal and
individual and that it can be both insofar as Aristotle understands each as a
kind of unity.
46
Cherniss, while agreeing that unity is a characteristic of Platonic form, claims

that Aristotle also accepts unity as a necessary mark of ousia.31 But, he goes
on to argue that Aristotle is inconsistent because he also criticizes Platonic
forms on the ground that each is one.32
More recent writers have tended to associate unity with Platonism in a
different way. G. E. L. Owen and other scholars identify Platonism with the
view that a term has a single meaning. As noted earlier, Owen thinks that
Aristotle initially rejected this univocity of key terms and embraced equivocity,
and only later in his career returned to a kind of limited Platonism when he
discovered focal meaning (pros hen).33 Owen thinks this return to Platonism
explains how Aristotle is ultimately able to accept a science of metaphysics
that treats all beings.
There is no doubt that unity plays a key role in Platos philosophy: he uses it
to characterize a form, and the one is apparently itself a form. Because Aristotle
argues against Platos forms, it is easy to suppose that he rejects with them
the notion that principles must be one. And it is convenient to suppose this a
simple measure through which to distinguish Aristotle from Plato. However,
we will see that Aristotles issue with Plato is not his ascribing unity to forms
but the kinds of unity he ascribed to them, and that Aristotle himself thinks
first principles, as well as the subject matter of metaphysics, must be one.
A secondand contraryassumption that tends to obscure the role of the
one and the many in the Metaphysics is that (2) one and being are virtually
equivalent.34 Aristotle often associates one and being. He claims that one
is said as being and that whatever is is one, and he uses both to refer to
specific characters in each categorial genus (Z 16, 1040b16; 2, 1003b2225;
I2, 1054a1319). Many writers have spoken as if their connection were stronger. Cherniss claims, The senses of Unity have a one to one correspondence
31. Harold F. Cherniss, Aristotles Criticism of Plato and the Academy (Baltimore: Johns
Hopkins Press, 1944),32526.
32. Cherniss, Aristotles Criticism,36364.
33. Owen, Logic and Metaphysics. Michael C. Stokes, One and Many in Presocratic
Philosophy (Washington: Center for Hellenic Studies, 1971), applies G. E. L. Owens
interpretation to the Presocratics. Drawing on an analysis of Aristotles distinction
between ones, Stokes argues that the philosophies of Presocratic thinkers stem
from their failure to distinguish between various ones. I think it is more plausible
to suppose that some were consciously identifying different types of unity.
34. An exception is Gilson, Being and Some Philosophers,18, who does distinguish
them: the abiding truth which we can still learn from Platos Parmenides is that
to be is something else than to be one. Gilson laments the medieval tradition,
influenced by the Neoplatonic Liber de Causis, that posited one as a higher principle
than being (pp. 3031).
47
with those of Being.35 He, Ross, and many others claim that being and one
are each pros hen with the same primary nature.36 Another group of thinkers,
including Karl Brthlein and Gottfried Martin, treat the one and being as
nearly identical transcendentals.37
If one were identical with being, there would be no point in Aristotles conducting a separate inquiry into it.38 That Aristotle does devote separate inquiries
into eachthe central books explore the different ways being is said, and
Metaphysics I the ways one is saidand that these inquiries lead to different
conclusions should suffice to show that being and one are quite different. The
supposition of their close connection has deflected interest in unity.
The problem is not that (1) and (2) are wrong. Both are right in some sense,
but not in the sense that scholars typically understand them. As I said, Aristotle
does criticize Plato for making form one, but his complaint turns on the kind
of unity Plato ascribes to it. Likewise, he does think that every being is one,
but this convertibility masks differences in the natures of being and one.
Being has a nature and, surprisingly, a substantiality that one does not. Nor
is primary being identical to primary one.
To appreciate these differences we need to explore the ways one is said.
This will be the task of the next chapter. In terms of following the argument
of the Metaphysics as Aristotle presents it to us, examining the ways one
is said should come near the end of this volume in my chapter on book .
However, readers convinced that one is connected with Platonism or nearly
same as being are not likely to appreciate my detailed discussion of its role in
the opening books of the Metaphysics. It is best, then, to disable assumptions
(1) and (2) right away, and the easiest way to do so is to see the richness of
Aristotles account of the ways one is said and, with a quick glance at 7,
35. Cherniss, Aristotles Criticism,322.
36. Cherniss, Aristotles Criticism,35859; W. D. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics,
2vols. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1958), 1:256; Michael Loux, Aristotle on
Transcendentals, Phronesis18 (1973):22539.
37. The third section of Karl Brthlein, Die Transzendentalienlehre der alten Ontologie, vol.1
(Berlin: De Gruyter, 1972), addresses the question, is there a theory of transcendental
being and of transcendental one in the corpus Aristotelicum? The reason that he
treats them together is that Aristotle treats them together: wo vom transzendentalen
Einen gesprochen wird, auch vom transzendentalen Seienden gehandelt wird un
umgekehrt (p. 109). Since, he thinks, transcendental being is just self-relation or
self-identity, transcendental one is its source; and the two risk being identified
(pp. 168, 37677). See also Gottfried Martin, An Introduction to General Metaphysics,
trans. Eva Schaper and Ivor Leclerc (London: Allen & Unwin, 1961).
38. As Merlan, From Platonism to Neoplatonism,170, puts it, if all being is one the
difference between an inquiry into being-as-such and one-as-such is very
slightindeed.
48
how they differ from the ways being is said. It is not possible to align these
ways. Further, appreciating the variety of ones helps to explain the mistake
Aristotle thinks Plato makes in the unity he ascribes to form. In general, knowing the different types of one will enable us to reflect on which one Aristotle
is considering when he does not specify one.
Still another benefit from examining the various ones is that it allows us
to raise the possibility that Aristotle intentionally leaves the kinds of one
unspecified or even ambiguous. We will see that this is an important strategy
in formulating the aporiai of book B. Then, too, nothing has been more important to recent scholarship on the Metaphysics than the notion that Aristotle
is keenly interested in ordinary usage and often explores its implications for
philosophical doctrines. The thought is that Aristotle often takes his start
from one usage, counterposes it with another, contradictory one, and aims
ultimately to preserve as much of both as he can. I see little evidence for this
picture of Aristotles philosophical method. At the very least, it needs to be
broadened by including along with his discussions of the ways terms are said,
the things of which they are said and the definitions of formulae of those things.
Making a case for this broadened perspective is part of the task of Chapter 2. If
Aristotle were talking about linguistic usage alone, it would make little sense
to explore my proposal that the Metaphysics address the problem whether all
things are one or many. In general, what others have taken to be claims about
the meaning and use of terms are, I think, claims about things. If, that is, all
things said to be or to be one are so-called in respect of some character
common to them, then their being such is directly pertinent to the problem
of the one and the many. Hence, it is useful to explore what Aristotle means
by the ways one is said.
One gauge of the importance of the problem of the one and the many in the
Metaphysics is whether examining it contributes to the solution of other scholarly problems. I have spoken already about Aristotles problems in A. Now
a word on what has most troubled scholars in these five books. Two issues are
central to the literature, and a third issue, though not as frequently discussed,
is important for understanding this text. We will see that all three turn out to
be, or to turn on, one/many problems.
First, there is the general question of metaphysical methodology: what
method does Aristotle use to arrive at and justify his conclusions? After two
introductory books, A and , Aristotle devotes all of book B to expounding a
series of metaphysical antinomies he terms aporiai. Although he rarely refers
49
to these aporiai later in the Metaphysics, it is clear that Aristotle does address
them.39 Still, most scholars discount their significance for his principal metaphysical doctrines. As I noted earlier, book B is usually taken to discuss problems that Aristotle himself found troubling at the time he wrote it. However, it
is also well-known that drawing up aporiai is part of his standard philosophical
method. This method is usually conceived through Aristotles statement of it
in the Nicomachean Ethics (H 1, 1045b26). According to this passage, the first
step in an inquiry is to set out the facts (), that is, the common
opinions () about the subject. The next step is to show that some of
these are inconsistent with others; these contradictions are aporiai. The final
step is to resolve the contradictions in a way that preserves the most, or the
most important, common opinions. This is called saving the phenomena
( ), and G. E. L. Owen uses this phrase to characterize
the entire method.40 Owen shows that Aristotle uses this method widely,
and he emphasizes the affinities between it and what was, at the time, the
method of linguistically oriented philosophers. Whether Aristotles method,
so understood, is rooted in observation or, rather, in linguistic usage, Owen
shows that it provides justifications for some doctrines that had seemed to be
merely posited. That is to say, Owen thinks that some of Aristotles doctrines
arise from peculiarities of the Greek language and that Aristotle compares
other expressions and observations to hone these doctrines. Other scholars
have extended Owens analysis. Martha Nussbaum, for example, refuses to
distinguish between observed phenomena and accounts of them in language
and, thereby, derives all the aporiai from conflicts in Greek usage. But since
the conflicts stem from language, they are not only problems that Aristotle
personally confronts but also problems for his larger philosophical and linguistic community.41 Yet, although Owen recognizes distinct empirical observations, his difference from Nussbaum is slight. He links the Physics closely
39. See Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics, 1:22223, for a discussion of where Aristotle
addresses the aporiai: Aristotle makes no attempt to preserve the order of the
problems or to discuss them in exactly the form in which they are raised, but
references in [several passages] show that he has them more or less in view.
40. G. E. L. Owen, Tithenai ta Phainomena, in Aristote et les Problmes de Mthode,
ed. S. Mansion (Louvain: Publications Universitaires de Louvain, 1961), 83103;
reprinted in Aristotle: A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. J. M. E. Moravcsik (Notre
Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1968),16790; also reprinted in Articles
on Aristotle: 1 Science, ed. J. Barnes, M. Schofield, and R. Sorabji (New York: St.
Martins Press, 1979), 113126.
41. Martha Craven Nussbaum, Saving Aristotles Appearances, in Language and
Logos: Studies in Ancient Greek Philosophy Presented to G. E. L. Owen, ed. Malcolm
Schofield and Martha Craven Nussbaum (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1982),see esp. 27677.
50
with Platos Parmenides and argues that the impulse throughout the work is
logical.42 When it comes to the Metaphysics, he has even less ground for concern
with empirical facts. Hence, Owen also sees metaphysical aporiai, as well as
the method of resolving them, as stemming from conflicts in linguistic usage
and, thereby, as peculiar to speakers of Greek rather than to the subject.
In my view, there is little or nothing that is subjective or personal in
Aristotles saving the appearances. As I have already suggested, the aporiai
that Aristotle presents are rooted in the discipline of metaphysics rather than
a particular community or person. In this book, I will argue by means of a
detailed analysis of Metaphysics B that most aporiai derive from a single Platonic
assumption about the unity of principles. I then argue that this assumption,
as well as the manifold aporiai derived from it, are intrinsic to metaphysics.
They, or problems like them, would need to be addressed by anyone who took
seriously the notion of a highest science that somehow knows all things. If
this is right, then Aristotles metaphysical aporiai are not fundamentally different from mathematical problems or the problems addressed in any other
discipline: they arise from the nature of the subject.
Furthermore, saving the phenomena is a misnomer for the method. It
suggests that Aristotle begins with a set of common opinions that he refines
by culling or modifying. What we find, instead, is that Aristotle uses the aporiai to introduce new doctrines. I argue in this volume that in drawing up the
aporiai Aristotle aims to show the apparent impossibility of their resolution by
presenting apparently sound arguments for conflicting conclusions. Because a
contradiction cannot be true, a doctrine that can resolve an otherwise insoluble
contradiction must be the case, provided it is consistent with other true doctrines.
Thus, by showing the seriousness of an aporia, Aristotle is making a case for
a doctrine that resolves it. Since the aporiai are one/many problems, Aristotle
argues, in effect, for doctrines by showing that they resolve one/many problems.
The present volume will show that Aristotle resolves the first four aporiai that
Metaphysics B expounds with his own original doctrines in book and that he
begins to tackle the fifth aporia, though it is not fully resolved until later. If this
is right, then saving the phenomena refers properly not to the method itself
but to one of its side constraints, the insistence that the new doctrine be consistent, so far as possible, with other doctrines and experience. Importantly, this
understanding of Aristotles method shows that he argues for his metaphysical doctrines. Aristotle does not devote sufficient attention to showing that no
other doctrine could resolve the aporia, or that the doctrine he introduces will
not eventually prove incompatible with another doctrine. Hence, his procedure
is not entirely conclusive. If, though, Aristotle identifies an assumption that
42. Owen, Tithenai ta Phainomena, Aristotle, 190.
51
generates the arguments on both sides of an aporia and replaces or modifies it

so that the antinomy can no longer arise, then this new doctrine succeeds in
saving the phenomena, and there are strong grounds to accept it.
The second main problem in the literature on Metaphysics A- is one that
I have spoken of earlier, the question of the relation of the study of all beings
to the study of the highest being, a question usually posed as the relation
between metaphysica generalis and metaphysica specialis. In other words, how is
the science of all beings related to the science of primary being? Connected
with this question is the question of how the science of all beings is related to
all the special sciences of particular beings. The locus classicus for both questions is Metaphysics . Here Aristotle sets out his doctrine that being is pros
hen, that is, that things are said to be because they either are or are related to a
primary being, ousia; and he contrasts the science that treats all of being with
the particular sciences that have, as their subject matters, particular portions
of being. The problem that Aristotle faces is how there can be a distinct science (or a distinct knowledge) of all things if each thing is already known by
a particular science. What could metaphysics add to the knowledge already
possessed by the particular science? Metaphysics seems unnecessary and
impossible, yet Aristotle maintains that it is both possible and necessary.
The key to resolving this difficulty, I shall show, is understanding the type
of unity that all beings have in contrast with the type of unity that each being
has. This is, indeed, just the way that Aristotle treats the difficulty in the text
of book . The various topics that must belong to metaphysics need sufficient
unity to fall under one science but not so much unity that other sciences are
excluded. In this way, the existence of metaphysics depends upon the unity of
all things. We will see that the unity of being allows being to have a nature,
and that this nature belongs, in the first instance, to every individual being
as such. Because the unity of being depends on something else, the study of
being must become the study of this nature. But this nature, in turn, depends
on a prior nature. In this way, metaphysica generalis becomes, ultimately, metaphysica specialis.
There is a third issue in Metaphysics A- that, though important for us here,
does not receive as much attention in the literature. Since every argument must
presuppose the principle of non-contradiction, it is clear that Aristotle cannot
argue for this principle. However, Aristotle apparently devotes a good bit of
book to arguing for this principle. The problem is not only this apparent
contradiction but also why this obvious principle receives so much attention.
Scholars often emphasize that Aristotle does not establish the principle but
refutes denials of it. However, even refutations must presuppose the principle,
and those who would deny the principle are unlikely to be swayed by being
shown that they contradict themselves. I argue here for a radical reinterpreta-
52
tion of the second half of book . Rather than arguing for non-contradiction,
Aristotle is, I claim, explaining what kinds of entities there need to be if noncontradiction is to hold. In particular, he is arguing that a particular being
must have the unity that belongs to an essence and, thereby, have a higher
degree of unity than it would have were it only a being. If this is right, then
the discussion of non-contradiction is an exercise in ontology.
Questions about philosophical methodology, about the objects of philosophy
and philosophys relation to other disciplines, and about what there is and
how it can be known belong among the perennial philosophical issues. It is
easy to lose sight of them or even miss them entirely while working through
Aristotles rich and difficult text. Ironically, focusing our attention on a problem
that seems, in contrast with these, archaic turns out to be a very good way to
keep these perennial questions before us.
CHAPTER
The Ways of Being One
Like most of Aristotles significant philosophical terms, one is said in many

ways ( ) (10, 1018a3536; De Anima B 1, 412b89; Phys. E4,
227b3). To appreciate the various manifestations of the problem of the one and the
many it is helpful to explore the multiple ways one is said. The Metaphysics does
not begin by distinguishing ones, and Aristotle often uses the term one without
indicating how he is using it. Indeed, some issues and claims in the opening books
turn on ambiguities in the use of one, as we will see. Still, we will be better
able to appreciate these ambiguities after examining the different ones. Another
reason for beginning with a treatment of ones is that the multiplicity of ways a
term is said often plays some role in Aristotles philosophical method. In my view,
many scholars have overemphasized the role of terms and misunderstood the
reasons for their being said in many ways. To introduce an alternative account
of Aristotles method, I need to disable some notions about why terms are said
in many ways or, at least, to propose an alternative interpretation. Still another
reason for starting with the ones is that comparing the ways one is said with
the ways being is said provides a ground to distinguish them and, thereby, to
disable the widespread assumption of their virtual identity (discussed in 1.4.1)
that would, unchecked, undermine the rest of my analysis. Finally, Aristotles
treatment here of the essence of the one ( ) will provide an important
model for understanding being qua being ( 1, 1003a2122).
Although Aristotle often mentions one in the corpus, only three passages
discuss, in any detail, the ways this term is said: Metaphysics 6; Metaphysics
I1, 1052a15b20; and Physics A 2, 184b525. Of these, the passage in the Physics
is relatively brief and has as its purpose only the falsification of the Eleatic
claim that all is one. Although the discussion in Metaphysics I is the most systematic, 6 is more complete, and it will serve us later on to illustrate what
Aristotle does elsewhere in . Accordingly, my presentation will follow the
order of the latter.

Before considering the ways one is said, we need to decide what Aristotle
means when he says that a term is said in many ways. According to one
53
54
interpretation, Aristotle is speaking about language; according to another,

about things. In my view both are mistaken. Let us look at each in turn.
Metaphysics is devoted entirely to elaborating the many ways important
metaphysical terms are said. It is often called Aristotles philosophical lexicon.
For some scholars this phrase seems to signal that the book defines words with
verbal formulae in the way that a modern dictionary might. Other scholars
see the book as giving the meanings of terms by describing their usage. In
either case, book is supposed to be distinguishing multiple meanings of key
terms and, thereby, to be giving an account of language.
This view does not sit well with the form that Aristotle uses to present the
different ways a term is said. What Aristotle presents as a single way is often
an entire schema. Thus, one way in which being is said is all the categories,
another way is actuality and potentiality: Being signifies what is potentially
and what is actually among what was said previously ( 7, 1017a35b2). As
Aristotle goes on to explain in this passage, we say of both what is capable of
seeing and what is actually seeing that it is seeing (1017b23). The claim here
is not that the term being is interchangeable with seeing or potentially
seeing, nor that being is interchangeable with acting or having a capacity to act. Aristotle is saying that the act of seeing, or the capacity for this act,
could be called a being or, more generally, that not just what is actual but also
what is potential is a being. His next example of this schema is that the person
capable of using knowledge and the person actually using it are both said to
know (1017b35): the word being does not even appear. The point is that use
. The English word thing has no precise equivalent in Greek, and we should,
in general, be reluctant to use it to elucidate Aristotles thought. However, this
is one of those rare cases where the English serves well to capture the thought.
Aristotle indicates things by naming individuals or by specifying types of particulars. Things is a convenient way to make this reference without identifying
individuals. We could use beings ( ) for this purpose, but this term has
two disadvantages: it is a technical Aristotelian term; and besides the things that
are, it can refer to their common character (if they have one) and their name. To
inquire whether beings are said to be in many ways is needlessly confusing.
. Owen, Logic and Metaphysics,165, speaks about interchanging word and
definition in a sentence.
. Ackrill, Aristotle the Philosopher,116, writes: Book is a philosophical lexicon,
in which various senses or applications of some key terms (cause, being, one,
accidental, quality etc.) are laid out.
. Owen, Logic and Metaphysics,16470, develops the notion that book is an
analysis of polysemy and is, therefore, an early work. I think that Owens own
view developed, for in a later essay he acknowledges homonymy of things as well
as definitions, G. E. L. Owen, Aristotle on the Snares of Ontology, in New Essays
on Plato and Aristotle, ed. Renford Bambrough (New York: The Humanities Press,
1965),74. On the compatibility of these views, see note 9 of this chapter.
55
and capacity for use are both ways of knowing, and knowing (a quality) is, in
turn, a way of being. We are not getting a definition of being but a distinction
among things that are called beings: some are actual, others merely potential.
There is no one formula or usage here that could be substituted for being.
Since Aristotle gives us a schema as a way of being, it might be thought that
he means to define being with the entire schema, with, for example, what
is either potential or actual. But everything is either potential or actual. If
being can be substituted for every term, then it has no content. More plausibly,
it might be proposed that Aristotle means to say, in discussing this schema,
that being has two distinct definitions, potential and actual. If so, then
sometimes when we say that a subject is something, we mean that it has
potential to be that thing. It is not clear that this is correct usage in English
or Greek: we would not be likely to say you are a musician to someone
with undeveloped musical talent. Moreover, this interpretation works in the
wrong direction, for it would be like saying that when we say animal we
sometimes mean nose or being with a nose. Rather, a being with a nose
has the capacity to sense, and inasmuch as having an organ of perception
makes something an animal, a being with a nose is an animal. Again, having
a nose qualifies a being for inclusion in the genus of animals, but it would be a
stretch to say that animal means having a nose. Similarly, having potential
qualifies something as a being, but being does not mean potential. As I
understand him, Aristotle is not talking about the meaning of words, but class
inclusion; specifically, inclusion within the class of beings.
There are, of course, places where Aristotle is concerned to determine whether
a term has been given the correct formula. Aristotle offers us some tips on how
to make sure it has in the Topics (A 5, 102a1117; H 1, 152b1016). However, his
criteria for definition are not merely verbal. Whether a formula is a definition
depends on the thing it defines, as he explains at the end of Metaphysics Z 4. This
thing must be primary or non-composite (1030a1017); for it is such things that
most properly have essences (1030a2832), and a definition is a formula of an
essence (5, 1031a1114) or of an ousia (Cat. 1, 1a7). Although essence most properly
belongs to an ousia, Aristotle claims that other beings have secondary essences
that allow them each to have some sort of definition as well (1030b37). However,
he draws the line at defining words; for if a definition defined a word, then all
formulae would be definitions, even the IliadZ 4, 1030a79. It is clear that in
general Aristotle thinks that a formula defines a thing rather than a word.
. For a discussion of this last text, see Halper, One and Many in Aristotles Metaphysics:
The Central Books,4749.
. Similarly, Terence H. Irwin, Aristotles Concept of Signification, in Language and
Logos: Studies in Ancient Greek Philosophy Presented to G. E. L. Owen, ed. Malcolm
Schofield and Martha Craven Nussbaum (Cambridge: Cambridge University
56
This reasoning also speaks against the looser view of polysemy according
to which book is demarcating different meanings of a word by describing
its different usages. The thought is that we understand a terms meaning from
the way it is applied to things. By understanding usage in this sense, we are
supposed to get a handle on the nature of things. However, we need to grasp
the things and to be able to distinguish among them before we can see how
the terms can apply to them. In a suitably broad sense of linguistic usage,
Aristotle is describing linguistic usage when he claims, as quoted earlier, that
being is what is potentially and actually, for he distinguishes two types of
things that are both called being. But just because being is said of both
indistinguishably, it does not help us distinguish between them. It, rather,
hides their differences under one name. We need some way to grasp the
things that are, independently of this name, if we are to distinguish between
the actual and the potential. Thus, the usage of being is not what Aristotle
relies upon to distinguish this schema of beings.
Linguistic usage is an even less promising avenue into things if it consists
of the sorts of classifications that most people mean when they speak of linguistic usage. Typically, to describe a terms usage is to describe the sorts of
occasions on which we use it, and such occasions may be events, a speaker,
a hearer, or even other words; for example, Fowlers entry for be begins by
describing its main divisions:
Be. 1. Number of the copula. 2. Be and were, subjunctives. 3.
Be+adverb+participle. 4. Elliptical omissions. 5. Confusion of auxiliary
and copulative uses. 6. Case of the complement. 7. Forms.
Press, 1982),24166, argues that Aristotles terms signify things rather than
formulae. Christopher Shields, Order in Multiplicity: Homonymy in the Philosophy
of Aristotle, Oxford Aristotle Studies (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1999),8990,
presents three of Irwins arguments for distinguishing signification and meaning. Since meaning is expressed in a formula, the terms signification must be
a thing. Shields argues that the formula, ideally, expresses an essence, and an
essence is a thing (pp. 9192). However, Shields thinks that a term properly signifies some meaning, though that meaning could be an essence (p. 101). Hence, he
distinguishes the deep meaning (essence) from more shallow meanings, and
he denies that shallow differences in linguistic usage are indisputable indicators of the absence of univocity or of a pros hen. Because we cannot generally
tell from the terms meaning the character of that thing to which it applies, the
discussion of the ways a term is said is of limited value for Aristotles inquiry
into being. Ironically, then, Shields holds to the linguistic interpretation of pollachos legomena, but limits its value.
. Ackrill, Aristotle the Philosopher,31, states this idea clearly.
. H. W. Fowler, A Dictionary of Modern English Usage, 2d ed, rev. Ernst Gowers
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1985),52.
57
This is nothing like Aristotles characterization of the many ways being is

said in 7.
Someone might defend the claim that Aristotle is describing linguistic usage
by replying that linguistic usage is a broad notion that includes what Fowler
does along with Aristotles distinctions among things. In my view, however,
speaking of linguistic usage based on the nature of things undermines the
motivation for speaking of linguistic usage in the first place: again, if Aristotle
needs to know how to characterize things before he can explain how the term
being is used, he does not need to examine the term to get an appreciation
of the things. Clearly, Aristotle is doing something different in book than
just examining usage. Moreover, Aristotles notion that formulae can define
things and that we can determine when they do so obviates the need to rely
on language. Unlike some contemporary philosophers who think that we are
caught up in a web of language, he thinks we can intuit the sensible and intelligible forms that exist in things. So the idea that examining linguistic usage
in either the narrow sense of definitions or any of the broader senses would
be a way to understand things is quite implausible. It follows that the many
ways that a term is said are neither definitions nor descriptions of usage.
The usual alternative is that the ways a term is said are kinds of things.
This view is supported by Aristotles frequent references to the categories as
. Terence H. Irwin, Homonymy in Aristotle, Review of Metaphysics34 (1981):53337,
argues that terms are said in many ways if they refer to different sorts ofthings.
Jonathan Barnes, Homonymy in Aristotle and Speusippus, The Classical
Quarterlyn. s. 21 (1971):7679, argues that although Aristotle does, in a few passages, regard homonymy as a property of words, this is not his usual view nor
the view operative in his treatments of pollachos legomena. For Barnes, to be a
property of words is to be included in an assertion about a word, and he points
to the referential use of terms to show that their being said in many ways is not
a linguistic property. (Apparently, property of words stands to property of
things as mention stands to use.) Since Aristotles definitions mark out different
things, they are not linguistic in this sense. This way of making the distinction
between linguistic and material characters seems to exclude the possibility of
using linguistic usage to inquire about things because, talking about usage, we
use words to describe words, and the words and definitions used referentially
name the things without referring to their properties.
Gareth Matthews, Senses and Kinds, The Journal of Philosophy69 (1972):14951,
argues that the claim that (1) cause has many senses is not only distinct from
(2) there are many kinds (genera) of cause, but that the two claims are linguistically incongruent; i.e., both cannot be true in the same language. At least some
of Aristotles commentators have ignored this distinction. Matthews argues for
it by assuming that (1) is true and then using it to interpret (2). When any of the
senses in (1) is substituted into (2), the latter is false. I think his argument is
flawed. Consider taking one sense of (1) and substituting it back into (1). Suppose,
as Matthews does (p. 153), that (1) and (2) amount to:
58
genera (e.g., 6, 1016b3134; 28, 1024b913), and by his notion that definitions
define things rather than terms. Nevertheless, the view is not rich enough to
do justice to Aristotles account. The many ways that a term is said cannot
(1*) The senses of cause are matter, form, agent, and purpose.
(2*) x is the cause of y if, and only if, x is either the matter, the form, the agent
or the purpose of y.
Now take any sense of (1*) and substitute it for cause in (1*). The result is
clearly false, but this obviously does not show that (1*) is incompatible with itself.
Rather, cause in (1*) designates all the senses collectively, something none of
the senses individually could do. (2*) is just another example of a collective use
of cause. Substituting one sense of cause into (2*) runs into the same problem
as substituting one sense into (1*). Any substitution is false because cause is
used collectively in (2*) to indicate any of the kinds of cause. So the argument
does not prove Matthews point. On the other hand, there is a plausible intuition
behind Matthews position, namely, that a linguistic plurality need not be a physical plurality. He wants to show that Aristotles pollachos legomena doctrine must
assert one or the other of these but not both. I do not see that the doctrine could
not assert both or, as I argue, a relation between them; and I have trouble with
Matthews notion that the difference between linguistic and physical pluralities
can be captured somehow by exploring linguistic usage.
Joan Kung, Aristotle on Being is Said in Many Ways, History of Philosophy
Quarterly3 (1986):16, thinks that Matthews is right to distinguish sense and kind
equivocities, and she defends G. E. L. Owens view that the many ways a term is
said are many senses. In particular, she argues that being is said in many ways
must amount to being has different senses because Aristotle takes the plurality of beings as known in advance of investigation into being and not alterable
through this investigation. Kung thinks that the existence of mutually exclusive
categories of being could not be empirically derived because, although there are
ambiguous terms, like pale, that could fall under multiple categories, Aristotle
insists that every term fall under one category (pp. 912). Since Aristotle could
not derive this categorial uniqueness by scientific investigation (i.e., empirically),
it must be an assumption. Consequently, when Aristotle investigates the ways
being is said in Metaphysics , he is not considering its kinds, but its senses
(meanings); for it is only the sense that he thinks could be discovered by scientific investigation. Kungs notion that empirical investigation aims to find terms
senses (meanings), while it assumes a set of kinds (or things) is backward: it is
language that Aristotle thinks is conventional and things subject to investigation.
That we cannot decide under which category (quality or affection) to put pale
shows not that Aristotle assumes distinctions of kind but that a term like pale
can refer to more than one character, a skin color or a state. Indeed, Aristotle
sometimes lumps the two together under one or other heads: both under quality
(1017a2427) or both under affection (1003b67). The passage that Kung
cites to show that categories are mutually exclusive ( 28, 1024b1216) appears in
Aristotles discussion of the ways genus is said. The categories are thus genera,
and distinctions between them, as well as distinctions between them and other
ways of being, would be distinctions of things.
59
be simply genera of things because the same thing can be called by the same
term in different respects: a man, for example, is called ousia because he,
or his form, is a this and separable, but also because he is a substrate for
attributes (cf. 8, 1017b2326). So to distinguish the kinds of things called by
a term does not suffice to make clear the ways the term is said.
What needs to be added is the reason the thing is called by the term. In
general, Aristotle thinks that something is called by a term in respect of the
formula that is its definition (Categories 1, 1a68).10 It would seem that, if a thing
has a single definition, it should always be said in one way. However, it is a
mistake to think that a thing has one definition: the same thing admits of
multiple definitions. Socrates is a man, a mammal, an animal, and so forth.
He has different, though compatible, definitions in respect of which he is
each of these. All these definitions are, in a broad sense, formulae of his
essence. But Socrates also has a substrate and attributes. He is called fleshy
or pale in respect of the definitions of these characteristics, definitions
that are, again in a broad sense, definitions of him. Alternatively, we could
say that there are many formulae of Socrates, one of which, the formula of
his essence, is his proper definition, whereas the other formulae define him
as an instance of a genus or define his substrate, his parts, or his attributes.
In any case, one thing can be called different terms in respect of different
formulae or definitions. To say that different things are called by a single
term in different ways is, then, to say that there are distinct formulae or
definitions in respect of which these things are called by the term. And this
explains how one thing can be called by one term in different ways: the thing
is called by the term in respect of its different formulae or definitions. Thus,
as we saw, one man is called an ousia in respect of his form or his substrate,
that is, in respect of the formula of his form, his essence, or in respect of the
formula of his substrate. All three, thing, term, and definition, come into
play when things are called by a term in many ways. In general, Aristotle is
interested in the proper definition, the formula of the essence, because it is
in respect of it that he demonstrates the things essential attributes, and he
is interested in exposing equivocal usages because they would undermine
10. Although he claims that terms are said in many ways because they signify different kinds of things, Terence H. Irwin, Homonymy in Aristotle,535, 537, also says
that a term said in many ways could have the same sense in all its instances. If the
sense is expressed by the definition, and if the definition belongs to the thing (as
Irwin also thinks), then a term said in many ways could not have the same definition in all instancesfor, then, it would be said in one way. Perhaps Irwin thinks
that there are definitions of things over and above the definitions that express their
essences; then, the essential definitions of the things might be the same even if the
things are called by the term differently in respect of other definitions.
60
these demonstrations. In metaphysics, however, he needs to explain equivocal usages; we will see why later.
To summarize the reasoning in this section, I have argued against the
purely linguistic interpretation by pointing out that the definition defines the
thing rather than the term. Then, I argued against identifying the many ways
a term is said as many kinds of things called by that term on the ground that
the one kind of thing is called by the same term in different ways. It is clear
that some sort of definitionnot necessarily a definition of an essenceis
necessary to distinguish the different ways the same thing could be called by
a single term, and that there are many such definitions. Thus, the definition
can be neither a linguistic entity nor a thing. This definition must constitute
a distinct component of Aristotles account. Hence, understanding what
Aristotle means by said in many ways (pollachos legomena) is not a question of determining whether the ways are either words or things; at issue is
the interrelation of things, language, and an entity that falls under neither
head, that is, definition.
2.1.1 An Alternative Argument for the Three-Component Analysis
Joseph Owens arrives at the same conclusion from an analysis of Categories1.11
He notices that there Aristotle mentions the same term animal as an
example of what is said equivocally ( ) as well as of what is
said univocally ( ). This would be nonsense if terms were
univocal or equivocal by virtue of the number of definitions they had, for
then animal, with many definitions, would always be equivocal. Instead, it
is clear from Aristotles description that it is things that are named equivocally
or univocally depending on whether they are so named in respect of the same
or different definitions. Man and ox are called animal univocally; man and
a picture of a man are named by this term equivocally (1, 1a18). Obviously,
the reason is not that the things differ, for the things in both cases differ
from each other. Rather, man and picture are named equivocally because
the definitions in respect of which each is called animal differ: the former
is so named because it is a being capable of sensation, the latter because it is
a two-dimensional image of such a being. That is, two things are named univocally when they have the same definition and are called by the same name
in respect of that definition; two things are named equivocally when they
are called by the same name in respect of different definitions. Referring to
Topics A 15, Owens maintains that Aristotle uses equivocal and univocal
as equivalents for said in many ways and said in one way. (Metaphysics
11. Owens, Doctrine of Being,10715.
61
K3, 1060b3234 presumes a similar equation.) It follows that many things are
called by a term in one way when they are called by that term in respect of
one definition and in many ways when they are called by that term in respect
of different definitions. In both cases, there is one term and many things;
what differs is the number of definitions involved. Owens concludes that the
many ways a term is said are things expressed by the same word in ways
that vary according to form or definition.12
Owenss equation of said in many ways and equivocal has been rejected
in the literature on the ground that there are texts that seem to deny it. First,
[A] at Metaphysics Z 4, 1030a32b12, Aristotle claims that things are called
being or medical neither equivocally nor univocally, but that being is
said in many ways. Second, [B] at Topics B 3, 110b1625, he identifies a class of
what is said in many ways but not because it is equivocal:13 one science is
12. Owens, Doctrine of Being,115.
13. Owen, Snares of Ontology,72n, 7576, takes this latter passage to illustrate
the multiple ways of saying not the name of a science but the sentence, one science knows many things; and for this reason he denies that it conflicts with
identifying said in many ways and equivocal as characteristics of a word.
He also understands De Sophisticis Elenchis 4, 166a614 to discuss the ambiguity
of a sentence or phrase. Disputing this view, Terence H. Irwin, Homonymy in
Aristotle,52930, thinks both texts could illustrate non-equivocal terms said
in many ways: in the Topics passage many is said in many ways, and in De
Sophisticis Elenchis passage some amphibolies turn on the ambiguity of a term.
To these passages, Irwin adds a third, Prior Analytics A 13, 32a18b22. There, he
maintains, though possible is said in two different ways, it is not homonymous because in both ways it retains the same definition, neither necessary nor
impossiblewhat Irwin terms two-sided possibility. As I read this passage,
besides this apparently generic definition, Aristotle also gives two more specific
definitions: for the most part, but falling short of necessary and indeterminate
(32b413). These last two ways of being possible are more closely connected
with each other than they are with the necessary that is called possible only
homonymously (32a2021), though whether they count as not homonymous or
as merely less homonymous is unclear to me. As for amphibolies, Irwin takes the
amphibolous Croesus crossing the Halys will destroy a great empire to turn
on the different ways the term great is said. Irwin thinks that great is said
in many ways without being equivocal because it has the same definition but
refers to different things. But this is surely too broad an interpretation of said
in many ways, for every term, except perhaps a name, can refer to many things.
Matthewss, Senses and Kinds,149, 154, seems to hold the same view of said
in many ways. (I shall have more to say on this point later in my text.)
Irwin thinks that Aristotles different uses of equivocal reflect a difference
in terminology rather than doctrine (p. 533). He thinks that the reason Aristotle
sometimes identifies equivocal and said in many ways and sometimes distinguishes them is that there are two groups of univocals, those said in one way
and those said in many ways. Aristotle identifies equivocal with said in many
62
said in many ways because (1) the end or what is related to the end belongs
to one science, as health and diet both belong to medicine, (2) the ends
of contrary processessuch as, becoming healthy and becoming sickfall
under one science, and (3) both the essential and the accidental fall to one
science, as the property of having angles equal to two right angles belongs
essentially to a triangle but accidentally to an equilateral triangle (because it is
a triangle), yet both attributions are known by the science that knows triangles.
Despite the difference in the names for their illustrative science, medical
and medicine, and their different ways of describing the plurality of what
comes under this and other sciences, [A] and [B] are enunciating the same
doctrine. Since these passages mention things that, though not equivocal,
are said in many ways, it seems to follow, then, that it is a mistake to equate
these two expressions.
This argument against Owenss equation between equivocal and said
in many ways presents both a challenge and an opportunity to understand
Aristotles thinking. His equation needs to be refined, but, rightly interpreted,
the seeming counterexamples support his three-component interpretation.
Let us notice first that in the two cited texts a single term, being or medical, refers to all things that are related to some primary thing. Such things
are pros hen: Being is said in many ways, but in respect of one thing (
), some one nature, and not equivocally () ( 2, 1003a33b10).
Being is not said equivocally because the things that are each called being
either are or are related to one primary nature, ousia; but neither is being
said univocally because these things are not called being in respect of the
same definition. So, too, medical is not said equivocally because it refers
to all that is related to the medical science, but neither is it said univocally
because things are not related to this science in the same way. What distinguishes such examples is the connection that the things have with each other.
This connection among the things is mirrored in a connection between their
definitions. There is a single definition that beings somehow include in their
definitions; for in the Metaphysics Z 4 passage cited above (but not in the 2
passage), Aristotle claims that things are called being because of some sort
of addition or subtraction, apparently, an addition or subtraction in respect to
a definition or definition part that they share. Similarly, contraries have one
formula (Met. 2, 1046b421) that applies to them differently. Health and
sickness, for example, are so called in respect of the formula of health, for the
ways when univocal is limited to what is said in one way, but he distinguishes
them when univocal includes some of what is said in many ways (pp. 53031).
So far as I can see, this analysis cannot accommodate Aristotles claim, in the
Metaphysics Z 4 passage cited in the text, that terms such as being and medical are neither univocal nor equivocal.
63
character the formula signifies is present in the one case and absent in the
other. Since the formula belongs to different things in different ways, the name
for the science is said in many ways. But it is not equivocal because the
things to which it applies are all known, somehow, through the same formula.
We can generalize from these examples: things are not equivocal as long as
they are known through one formula, even if the formula belongs to them
differently; but such things are, nonetheless, called by a word that is said
in many ways. Owens is, then, wrong simply to identify equivocal and
said in many ways, but this error does not undermine his three-component
account of pollachos legomena. Indeed, we need to refer to the three-component
account to make clear the difference between equivocal and said in many
ways. And, apart from these special cases, what is equivocal is coextensive
with what is said in many ways.
This interpretation shows Categories 1 to be generally consistent with the
passages from Topics and the Metaphysics discussed in the previous section,
but it is not yet adequate because it does not explain how there can be a third
class between two alternativesunivocal and equivocalthat seem mutually exclusive and jointly sufficient. Let us, therefore, look more carefully at
Aristotles usage. We saw that, in Categories 1 man and ox are said univocally
because the formula in respect of which they are each called animal is the
same, whereas man and the picture of man are said equivocally because each
is called animal in respect of a different definition. Man and ox are also each
species, and each has its own definition as such; but these definitions differ.
The definition in respect of which they are univocally named is their definition as animals, a being capable of sensation. Aristotle refers to the formula
in respect of the name (1a7), and he means the formula in respect of which
man and ox are each called animal. Again, this is not the formula of the
name, but the formula of the ousiai of man and of ox through which each is
an instance of the genus animal. And this formula of the ousia is not the same
as the formulae (plural) in respect of which these are called man or ox,
for in this respect the two are not named univocally. It is clear, then, that each
primary ousia will have multiple definitions because each belongs to multiple
species and genera and will, accordingly, be defined through the definitions
that define the species and genera. In the Categories, Aristotle calls these species secondary ousiai (2a1419). The primary ousiai are called by the names
of these secondary ousiai in respect of the pertinent formulae. The species and
genera are themselves, as well, called by their own names in respect of their
essential formulae and, by the same token, called by the names of still higher
genera in respect of the formulae of the latter.
In general, then, two things will be named univocally or equivocally
depending on whether they are called by one name in respect of the same
64
formula or different formulae; and insofar as things are univocally named,

they belong to the same genus or class.14 Hence, according to Aristotles usage
in the Categories, things are named equivocally or univocally. In contrast,
it is an individual term, in the singular, that Aristotle claims to be said in
many ways, though his usage may not be entirely consistent (cf. Topics E 2,
129b35130a4).15 In general, when one name belongs to many things in respect
of the same formula, it is said in one way; when the name belongs to many
things in respect of different formulae, it is said in many ways. The difference
between named equivocally and said in many ways turns on whether we
begin with multiple things and consider whether a name applies to them all
in respect of the same definition, or whether we begin with a word and ask
whether it is used of different things in respect of the same definition of the
things. In both cases the definition expresses the essence of the thing, and
both expressions are describing the same circumstances.
However, recognizing the difference between these expressions enables us
to explain how there can be the middle ground that we saw in the passages
from the Topics and the Metaphysics. This third class consists of things that are
not named equivocally but whose name is said in many ways. Let us consider
again his three examples in the Topics passage: (1) Producing health is the end
of medicine; dieting is related to that end insofar as it can aid in producing
it. The science that knows the end is also able to produce that end. Medicine,
whose province is health, must know the formula of health in a body; but it
must also, by using this same formula, know the things that produce health.
Because the things are related to this end, they are not said to belong to
medicine equivocally. But, on the other hand, the term medicine applies to
both health and what leads to health, but in different ways: it is said in many
ways. (2) Contraries are related to each other because one is the privation of
the other in their genus (cf. I 4, 1055a2235). Since, as noted earlier, they have
the same formula, they are both known by one science (B 2, 996a2021). It follows that contraries are not called by the name of this science equivocally, but
this name is said of both contraries in different ways. (3) It is hardly obvious
that the essential attribute and the accidental attribute would have the same
formula and, thus, be known by one science, but Aristotles example makes
clear what case he has in mind. Having angles that equal two right angles
is an essential attribute of triangle but an accidental attribute of equilateral triangle not because equilateral triangles could have angles that were not equal
14. I am passing over the difficulties of ousiai that are named by their attributes.
Socrates and his color may both be white, but not univocally; Socrates and
Callias are both white in respect of the same definition, and they, therefore, belong
to the same genus, namely, ousia, not color.
15. Owens, Doctrine of Being,113 n. 31.
65
to two right angles, but because this attribute does not belong in respect of
the essence of equilateral triangle. Although it is not always recognized, there is
an Aristotelian science of triangles; it knows all the instances of this genus by
virtue of knowing the formula of the essential nature in respect of which they
are instances, that is, the formula of triangle. And it knows all the essential
attributes of this genus, all the attributes that belong to its instances in virtue
of the generic nature. Hence, it knows the essential attribute having angles
that equal two right angles. Since this attribute also belongs to equilateral
triangles, but not in respect of their essence as equilateral triangles, it is merely
accidental to equilateral triangles. So the science of triangles knows not only
what is essential but also knows, with the same formula, what is accidental.
Since both things are known through the same formula, they are not equivocal. On the other hand, the name science of triangles is not said in the same
way of the attribute having angles that equal two right angles insofar as
it belongs to equilateral triangles as it is said of the essential attributes of all
triangles. It is said of this attribute essentially when it is an attribute of triangles,
but accidentally when it is an attribute of equilateral triangles.
In short, all three cases concern things that are known, at least in part,
through some single definition, though not in the same way. Since these
things are called by one name because of this definition, they are not named
equivocally, but since the definition does not apply to them in the same way,
their name is also said in many ways. Aristotle is marking out a class that
does not fit well with what had seemed to be a dichotomous division, the class
of what is neither univocally nor equivocally named.
Let us recall the course of the discussion in this subsection. Seeking an
alternative argument to the one I presented, I mentioned Joseph Owenss
argument that the analysis of things said equivocally and univocally requires
three components: things, terms, and definitions of ousiai. His argument
relies on an equation between equivocal and said in many ways. We
saw, however, that there is a serious objection to this equation. Examining
the passages upon which the objection is based, we found first that those
passages can be understood through the three-component analysis. On further reflection, we saw that the counterexamples are based on the principle
that things are named equivocally or univocally, as Aristotle claims in the
Categories, whereas names are said in one way or in many ways. This application of the three-component analysis explains the possibility of the type of
cases that were brought as counterexamples against Owens. That is to say,
the three-component analysis explains the possibility of examples that were
proposed to undermine it. To be sure, Owenss equation of equivocal and
said in many ways needs to be qualified, but the three-component analysis that he advances makes clear why the qualification is needed and how
66
to make it. Hence, so far from undermining the three-component analysis,

these objections, along with Owenss analysis of Categories 1, count strongly
in its favor.
The virtue of the three-component analysis becomes even clearer if we
try to think said in many ways without it. If it indicates the different things
to which a term applies, we would have to ask how these things come to be
collected together and distinguished from each other. This collecting and
distinguishing is the role for definitions, definitions that divide things into
their kinds and differentiate those kinds. For this reason, it seems to me that
scholars who describe Aristotles pollachos legomena as different kinds of things
named by the same term do not so much ignore definitions as implicitly presuppose them. Without definitions of some sort, they could not distinguish
the different kinds of things.
2.1.2 Applying the Three-Component Analysis to Metaphysics :
Real and Non-Categorial Essences
Thus far, I have argued for a three-component analysis of Aristotles doctrine
of pollachos legomena. There is, however, a serious reason to doubt that it applies
to Metaphysics . Compare what we find there with the examples in Categories1.
The definition of animal is a formula of a real essence, and deciding whether
man and ox are univocally called animal turns on whether both things are
so-called in respect of this essence. The definition of cause, necessary, or genus
is not the formula of an essence because things that are called cause, necessary, genus, or by any of the other terms, whose many ways of being said
book lays out, fall under more than one categorial genus and, therefore, can
have no real essence. That is why they are treated by metaphysics rather than
any of the special sciences. The problem is that if there are no real essences
of what these terms signify, there cannot be definitions, and the three-term
analysis cannot, apparently, apply to them.
How, in particular, could we refer to the definitions of things to decide
whether or not cause ormore importantly for usone is said equivocally
of them? Consider, for example, the human essence or form. We know from
the Physics that it is a formal, final, and efficient cause of composite human
beings (B 7, 198a2426). We are, therefore, right to refer to it as cause. But in
respect of what definition do we call it so? Not in respect of the definition of
the essence of human being, that is, rational animal or whatever the proper
definition is: the form rational animal is not called cause because it is rational
animal but because it is the form of a matter, or its end, or what generates it.
That is to say, the essence of man is called cause insofar as it functions as
such, not because of its specific content. What, though, is being defined by the
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definition of something in respect of cause? More specifically, what is the

definition of a person in respect to, say, final cause? An Aristotelian definition
is not a string of words but a formula of the essence ( Cat.1,
1a4). Again, the problem is that there is no essence of something in respect of
its being a final cause because final causes do not belong to a single category:
whereas some, like our form, are ousiai, others, like virtue or musical skill, are
qualities. But no nature cuts across categorial lines. Evidently, then, there is
no nature or real essence of final cause or, more properly, no real essence of
a human being insofar as he is a final cause. Nor, for the same reason, would
there be a real essence of the other types of cause, or of cause itself.
We reach the same conclusion when we consider other terms discussed in.
A man and an ox are each called animal in respect of the same definition,
namely, the essential definition of animal; but animal is itself called a genus
in at least two different ways: in respect of its being the first constituent of a
definition and also in respect of its being the substrate of differentiae (Met.
28, 1024b46, 1024a36b4). That is to say, animal is the genus of man and
ox because it is the first constituent of their definitions and also because it
underlies their differentiae, but for these same reasons animal itself is also
rightly said to be a genus. Thus, being the first constituent of a definition
or underlying differentiae is playing the same role in explaining why animal is called a genus that the definition of the essence of animal plays in
explaining why man and ox are each called animal. However, neither of the
two former formulae can be a proper definition because, again, definitions
are formulae of essences and there is no real essence of the first constituent
of a definition or what underlies differentiae. Every being has a definition,
and there are, accordingly, first constituents in all categories; but because,
again, there is no nature common to multiple categories, first constituent
of the definition cannot refer to a single nature. The same could be said of
what underlies differentiae. Evidently, there is no proper definition of either
of these two ways genus is said, no more than there is a proper definition
of genus simpliciter.
Let me stress that there is no difficulty in giving a formula in respect of
which something is called a genus or a cause and that such a formula
functions exactly as the definition functions in Aristotles account of things
said equivocally and univocally in Categories 1. Moreover, there should be no
doubt that when Aristotle refers there to the formula of the essence in respect
of the name (1a4, 7), the pertinent name is animal: were the name man
or ox, the definition in respect of the name would obviously not be the
same for both of these. I emphasize this point because scholars have virtually
ignored the essences of genera, and we are, therefore, apt to recoil from talk
of definitions of things in respect of cause or genus and to insist that the
68
definition here must be the formula of the essential nature of the individual
man or of other individuals. Indeed, it is tempting to think that when Aristotle
says that, for example, cause is said in many ways, he must mean to be defining either the word cause or to be referring to the definitions of individual
things. But as I said, an individual things essential nature is a cause in many
ways: rational animalif it is the human essenceis not a cause because of
what it is, but because it functions as the organizing principle of matter, as
its end, or as its generative principle, and the definition in respect of cause
should express this function. Likewise, being a human being does not make
a person an efficient cause of a statue: he becomes the cause when he functions as such, that is, when he sculpts the statue. In short, we cannot account
for somethings being a cause or a genus in terms of its individual nature
as, for example, its being a human being. We need some sort of definition of
it in respect of these names, cause or genus.
We might contrast the latter, odd entities with the entities of what we could
call Aristotelian normal science. The name of an essential attribute, like
two-footed or being capable of laughter is said of human beings univocally
because it belongs in respect of our definition as human beings. Similarly, an
attribute like having an organ of reproduction is said of animals univocally
in respect of the definition of the genus of animal. In general, there is a close
connection between essential attributes, that is, the characters that belong to
a genus in respect of its essence, and what is said of the genus univocally. The
names of its essential attributes are said of the genus univocally because they
belong to it in respect of its essential definition as a genus (and in respect of
their own definitions as attributes). Indeed, Aristotles motive for talking about
things named univocally and equivocally at the beginning of the Categories
is surely to exclude what is said equivocally from the scientific investigations
that the Categories and the rest of the organon ground: equivocity undermines
syllogism. That is why the three-component analysis figures prominently in
these methodological works and in his treatments of the particular sciences:
they are all concerned with demonstrating or explaining how to demonstrate
attributes that belong to things in virtue of their essential definitions, attributes
whose names are, consequently, said of the things univocally.
However, what we have found about said in many ways and the threecomponent analysis seems to evaporate when we get to metaphysics because
the terms we are concerned with here do not belong in respect of real essences.
Picking up on the univocity of essential attributes, we might propose, as a last
ditch effort to make metaphysical terms intelligible, that the form of man and
other such things are called causes or something of the sort because they
possess certain attributes, much like human beings are two-footed because
they possess this attribute. But this cannot be the case because the attribute
69
would still need a real essence, and cause does not have such an essence.
Further, the attribute would be confined to a single genus, whereas cause is
not. Again, we face the difficulty of deciding in respect of what something
could be called cause if there is no real essence that could make it a cause.
All this shows the seriousness of the difficulty that the metaphysical terms
pose for Aristotle. First, there seems no possibility of endorsing the threecomponent interpretation of pollachos legomena because there cannot be a
definition if there is no essence to define. Although this concern is not generally posed in the literature, I suggest that the reason the three-component
interpretation is not more widely accepted is the difficulty of applying it to
Metaphysics . Second, the issue is not merely the scholarly problem of how
to understand pollachos legomena, but the metaphysical issue of what sort of
thing we refer to when we speak of cause, genus, or something of this
sort. What could it mean to say of something that it is a cause if there is
no real essence that makes it a cause? It is not just that we are talking about
something that does not belong to a single category, but, more seriously, that
to be a cause is not a categorial character at all. If there is nothing that is not
some sort of entity, there is nothing outside the categories, and nothing that
cause could mean.
There is, however, good reason to think that Aristotle is aware of this thorny
metaphysical problem and that he addresses it. A full account requires understanding the arguments of book and its treatment of being as quasi-generic,
but it is possible, and necessary, to say something now to explain how there
can be definitions when there is no real essence to define. The explanation is
that things called by metaphysical terms have essences of another sort; we can
call them non-categorial essences because their content does not fall within a
category. That Aristotle recognizes such essences will probably surprise many
scholars, but the texts are really quite clear. Aristotle speaks in several places
about the essence of element and the essence of one ( 6, 1016b1721; Z 16,
1040b1624; 17, 1041a1520; I 1, 1052b714; see also B 4, 1001a12). The essence of
one could be some thing that is one or something else that is closer to a word
(1052b57), like to be indivisible or to measure a genus. Likewise, among the
various things called element, as among things called one, there is some
character that makes it legitimate to apply the term, but this character does
not belong to the being of the thing:
Being fire is not the same as being an element ( . . . );
but, as a thing and some nature, fire is an element, and the name [element] signifies something that happens to belong to this thing, namely
that something else is constituted out of it as a first constituent (I 1,
1052b1114).
70
Evidently, element signifies some character of things, a character that can

be expressed in a formula: to be an element is to be the first constituent of
a thing ( 3, 1014b1415).16 This character may happen to belong to fire, but
it is not part of the nature of fire to be an element. Nor does this character
express the nature of an instance of any categorial genus. And Aristotle adds
here, it is the same way with cause, one, and all such terms (1052b1415).
He means that things are also called by these terms in respect of a formula
that expresses the essence of some non-categorial character.
Aristotle says more about such characters elsewhere. We will see later that,
as part of an aporia, he raises the question whether same, other, like,
unlike, contrariety, and all the others that dialecticians try to study belong
in metaphysics (B 1, 995b2025). His answer is that they do ( 2, 1003b3436;
1004a31b4; 1005a1318), and he goes on to investigate them in book . The
apparent obstacle to including them in metaphysics is also the reason why
they are, ultimately, treated by this science, namely, that they fall under many
categorial genera. They would not fall under many genera were there real
essences of same, like, and so forth. Moreover, the device that allows them
to be included in metaphysics also enables that science to investigate what is
contrary, complete, one, . . . and others of that sort (1005a1113). In broaching the what is it question here, Aristotle signals his concern to find their
essences, not their real essences, of course, but essences of some sort.
What sort of essence this is will be clearer as we work through some chapters of Metaphysics in this chapter. Or, rather, we will find that each of these
terms is said in respect of many essences. This irreducible plurality is one
of two fundamental lessons from book that the plurality can be traced
to a primary instance is the otherfor Aristotles discussions contain only
the rudiments of definitions. Whereas some of Aristotles predecessors and
contemporaries take one and being each to be said in one way, that is, to
signify one nature, book describes the many things that are called by each
term and shows, in the case of one, that things are not called one in respect
of a single real essence. For this negative purpose Aristotle does not require
fully detailed definitions. Rough and ready characterizations of things that
serve to divide them into like groups suffice to show that there is no nature
that is shared in common. These characterizations are not nearly as difficult
to grasp as the complex arguments of book that explain their possibility.
Accordingly, it will not lead us astray to consider the former before the latter, and it will help us to understand the justification if we know in advance
something of what is being justified.
16. It is clear from this definition that a genus is an element of definitions. This fact
motivates the sixth aporia (B 3, 998a2025) and, presumably, encourages those
who identify genus and material element (998b914).
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To summarize, the chief obstacle to the three-component analysis of pollachos

legomena is how it could possibly apply to the terms discussed in book , terms
that do not signify real essences. This difficulty is, I suggested, equivalent
to Aristotles difficulty about whether these topics can be treated by a single
science. Without resolving the latter, we found texts where Aristotle speaks
clearly of the essences that some of these metaphysical terms signify, essences
in respect of which things are univocally named by these terms. If this is right,
then the three-component analysis applies to . Moreover, in discussing the
ways things are called by these terms, Aristotle is treating non-categorial,
trans-generic entities and assuming that they have non-categorial essences.
Inasmuch as metaphysics knows all beings, it needs to consider whether
there are characters that extend beyond the boundaries of the categories
and what sorts of things they are. Here, then, is an alternative, and more
metaphysically sound, motive for Aristotle to explore the many ways that
terms are said in the Metaphysics. The terms that he explores extend beyond
a single categorial genus and, therefore, can signify no real essence; only a
science with the universal scope of metaphysics could determine what sorts
of natures they signify, and metaphysics must do so if it is to know, to the
extent possible, all things. If this is right, it is easy to see why scholars have
thought that Aristotle is examining linguistic usage: the essence in respect
of which a metaphysical term is said of things is not a real categorial essence
but closer to a word. Still, to be an element is not just a word or a usage;
it is an important character of things, and this is also true of the other such
essences. They are, or are treated as if they were, the natures of things. They
are like the real essences that things have by being human beings or animals,
only they do not fall under a category. Hence, Aristotle is concerned not with
words or their usage, but with things that have, besides their real essences,
peculiar sorts of non-categorial essences, and he examines these things by
pointing to their namescause, element, etc.and to the peculiar essences
in respect of which they are called by these names.
Two additional remarks before proceeding. The quasi-essence I have been
speaking of in this section is not an entity that exists in language, even if it is
closer to a word (cf. I 1, 1052b59), nor is it simply identical with things; it is a
third component.17 Because the things discussed in do not belong to a single
17. Richard R. K. Sorabji, Aristotle and Oxford Philosophy, American Philosophical
Quarterly6 (1969):129, notes that Aristotles essence resembles what Locke
called real essence whereas much recent philosophy has been concerned with
something more like nominal essence. Sorabji describes Aristotle as packing
a lot of scientific information into his definitions (p. 130). Sorabji is clearly right
about Aristotles real essences, but the kind of essence pertinent to poses a serious difficulty: although it cannot be real, it is more than a mere name because it
expresses characters of things.
72
genus and do not have real essences, and because the basis for applying terms
to them is contained in a verbal formula, it remains tempting to suppose that
this formula must be some sort of linguistic entity. But, again, such formulae
pick out important features of things, such as being a first constituent or being
a cause, features that do not belong to a things essential nature because they
span multiple categories, whereas a things nature falls to one category. There is
no nature whose essence is to be a cause, but were there no causes, there could
be no knowledge nor any things to know. (To know is to grasp the cause, and
to be, likewise, requires a cause.) So even though we find ourselves trying to
grasp essences that are not, in narrower contexts, even considered essences,
we are dealing with entities that are somehow the way things stand and are,
therefore, of crucial importance to an inquiry into all things.
Second, because so much of what Aristotle says seems amenable to interpretation as remarks about language, it is important to stress further that the
inclusion of essence or definition as a key constituent of the pollachos legomena
not only obviates but also forestalls a purely linguistic interpretation. In this
respect, book resembles other passages: Aristotles references to language
often aim to deflate its significance or to skirt misconceptions that it could
generate. Consider, for example, his distinction between present in and
said of in Categories 2. It is opaque to language. Grammatically, Socrates is
white and Socrates is rational are identical even though white is present
in Socrates and rational is said of him (cf. 7, 1017a1213). What Aristotle
seems to be telling us is that grammar masks the important ontological difference between these two predicates and that we cannot, therefore, look to
language to guide ontology. Likewise, that one is said in many ways betokens
a partial failure of language, a signal that we cannot learn about the things or
their quasi-essences from the term alone. We should be careful not to project
the contemporary interest in language onto Aristotle. His doctrine of pollachos
legomena involves language as one component, but it is not so much about
language as about a peculiar sort of entity with a special ontological status
that language imperfectly reveals. Later, in Chapter 6, we will see that such
entities exist as attributes belonging to being qua being.
Aristotles discussion of the ways being is said in 7 provides the organization and the starting point of the extended inquiry into what is being? that
constitutes the central books of the Metaphysics. So, it is clearly important for
Aristotles methodology. It also provides a useful contrast with his treatment in
6 of the ways one is said, and surveying the two chapters together makes
clear important differences between being and one that begin to undermine
73
the scholarly assumption, noted in Chapter 1 (1.4.1), that these two are virtually identical.
Aristotles discussion opens with a distinction between accidental (
) and essential ( or per se) being (1017a78). He
discusses several types of accidental beings (1017a819), collects them under
three heads (a1922), and proceeds to the essential beings (a22b9).
There are three types of accidental beings:
Things said to be accidentally are said in this way [1] because both
belong to the same being, [2] because one of them belongs to a being,
or [3] because some being belongs to a subject of which it is predicated
(1017a1922).
Examples include: (a) the musical [man who is] pale; (b) the man [who is]
musical; and (c) the musical [who is] man or musical man. Each accidental
being is thus a complex that depends upon a substrate. Whatever position the
substrate is said to occupywhether predicate, subject, or merely implicitthe
substrate is. Aristotle designates it as a being. In general, an accidental being
is accidental because it is a complex that includes something else besides the
substrate, something that belongs to the substrate.
The obvious question is, in respect of what is the substrate called a being?
Aristotle does not raise or answer this question, but the substrate is either a
per se being or an accidental being. If it is an accidental being, it will include
another substrate that is also a being. Since we cannot have an infinity of
such accidental beings, there must be, in any accidental being, a substrate
that is a being non-accidentally, that is, a being per se. (It is also clear that
this substrate is an ousia [Cat. 5, 2a1114], and that what is called a being
accidentally is a composite of an ousia and one or more accidental attributes,
an accidental composite.) Hence, Aristotles account of how being is said
accidentally depends upon something else that is called being per se.
There is a widespread tendency to think that the many per se ways that
being is said are simply the categories.18 Consider, though, the organization
18. For example, Kung, Aristotle on Being is Said in Many Ways,3.
Charles H. Kahn, The Verb To Be and the Concept of Being, Foundations of
Language2 (1966):25054, should have provided a corrective, for he emphasizes
the importance of the veridical usage of . Lesley Brown, The Verb To Be
in Greek Philosophy, in Language, ed. Stephen Everson, Companions to Ancient
Thought 3 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994),22426, challenges the
sharp distinction between existential and non-existential uses of is that Kahn
and most others assume. However, her brief discussion of Aristotle focuses on
categorial beings (pp. 23336).
74
of 7. Aristotle claims that being is said either accidentally or per se (1017a78;

cf. K 8, 1065a2829). Since accidental being constitutes one way being is said
and since Aristotle treats it in the first part of 7 (1017a8, 22; E 2, 1026a 34), all
the other ways can only be per se beings. Moreover, to follow the accidental
instances with the per se instances of a term is Aristotles regular procedure
in (cf. 6, 1015b3436 with I 1, 1052a1519; and 9, 1017b27, 1018a45). The
categories constitute the first of the per se ways of being: (1) to be is said per
se in as many ways as signify the schemata of the categories (1017a23): what
is it? (that is, ousia), quality, quantity, relation, doing, suffering, place, and
time (a2526). Aristotle mentions two more schemata of per se beings: (2) to
be signifies, in regard to what is, that it is true; not to be signifies that it is
not true, but false (1017a3132);19 (3) to be signifies, on the one hand, some
being that is potential, on the other, some being that is actual (1017a35b2).
There are, thus, three per se ways of being. What I have rendered per se in
(1) is plural in the Greek possibly to indicate that each of the categories is a per se
being, but more likely to signal that Aristotle is presenting a list of ways being
is said per se, of which the categories is the first. In parallel passages in 6 and 9,
he follows a list of the ways one and same are said accidentally with descriptions of multiple ways each is said per se, and there too, in introducing them, he
puts per se in the plural (1015b36; 1018a5).20 Thus, 7 follows Aristotles regular
pattern in listing, after the accidental ways a term is said, several per se ways.
It is important that each of the per se ways of being is itself a schema of
multiple per se beings. Each of the categories, for example, is a being.21 Similarly,
An important exception who realizes the full range of the multiplicity of being
is Franz Clemens Brentano, Von der mannigfachen Bedeutung des Seienden nach
Aristoteles (Hildesheim: G. Olms, 1960),68. Aristotle restates the four ways that
being is said at E 2, 1026a33b2, and this division clearly structures the central
books of the Metaphysics.
19. The passage is usually understood to be mentioning two names: being and is
signify what is true, and the next quoted text is usually taken as: being and
that which is signify that what was said before is potentially and others actually. This understanding of the text would be compatible with my interpretation,
but I think it unlikely or misleading because it encourages the reader to fill in
another subject. Thus, Ross translates (2) to be discussing statements (also Ross,
Aristotles Metaphysics,1:308), and he takes all the other ways of being, accidental
and essential, to be the subject of (3) (Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics,1:309).
We will see that here Aristotles word signify () indicates the relation of a word to a formula or definition, as it does at 4, 1006a3132 (cf. 1006a21).
I am not assigning it a meaning so that we can see in this section why it must
have this meaning.
20. Aristotle omits the accidental ones from book Is discussion of the ways one is
said. All the ones discussed there are per se (1, 1052a1519).
21. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics,1:307, thinks that the per se instances of the categories
are propositions whose subject and predicate belong in the same category, such
75
actuality and potentiality are also each per se beings. The problematic schema
is true/false. What is true is, but what is false is not and, thus, it would seem,
no being at all. How, then, can both true and false be ways of being? The
answer is that Aristotle rejects absolute non-being and insists that not being
is a way of being ( 2, 1003b10). So, too, discussing accidental being earlier in
7, he remarks that not-white is a being because that to which it belongs
is a being (1017a1819; cf. E 2, 1026b21). The false is a particular way of not
being: later, Aristotle characterizes it as being many (10, 1051b1113).
Thus, the diagonalthe hypotenuse of a right triangleis not, in general,
commensurable with the sides (1017a3435) because these two things, diagonal and commensurable, are not one. That is to say, the commensurability of
the diagonal is false because it is being many. So, as strange as it sounds,
the false is a way of being, and each of the three per se ways being is said
is a schema.
Although one thing can fall under only one division within a single
schema, it can fall under multiple schemata. That is to say, the same thing
can be called a being in more than one way, but within one way of being,
the thing appears only once. Socrates is an instance of the category of ousia,
not the other categories; this does not prevent him from falling in the actual/
potential schema, but there, too, he falls under one head, actual rather than
potential. So one thing can be by being an ousia, but also by being actual.
This simple observation has an important implication: the ways being is
said do not divide all beings into genera. Genera are mutually exclusive,
unless one falls under another. The categories are genera of being (cf. I 2,
1054a413), and they are mutually exclusive in that an instance of one category is not an instance of another, except equivocally. So the categories do
divide beings into genera. But the ways of being are not mutually exclusive
because, as I said, one thing can fall in one of the categories and also be
called a being in other ways.
Does the three-component analysis apply to 7? If so, then when one
or more things are each called being, they will be so-called in respect
of either the same or different definitions. It is clear that the analysis must
apply because everything is called a being, but there are different ways
of being. In other words, inasmuch as everything is a being, the things
and the term are the same; but the things are called by this term in different
as, white is a color, and that Aristotle does not adequately distinguish such per
se propositions from accidental propositions that involve subject and predicates
from different categories, such as, man is white. Aristotles examples do suggest
propositions, but he mentions individual categories as beings (1017a2427), and
he is explaining why these predicates are called beings. Since a man walks
and a man is walking are the same, the is must be contained in walks; hence,
this and other predicates are called beings.
76
ways, and only differences in definitions could distinguish these different

ways. 7 is a very brief sketch. Aristotle does not present formal definitions of the ways being is said, and he focuses his attention on the kinds
of being within each way. But even so, the differences between the ways are
quite apparent: a thing is called a being per se because it has some (categorial) character, because that character is fully or less than fully realized
(actuality), or because it exists (as one or many). Let us consider, in turn, the
definition that marks each way.
To say that (1) something is a being in respect of the categories is to say
that it is a being either by its what is it?, or by its quality, or by its quantity, and so forth. These latter are all real natures or attributes. Although we
have seen another type of character that is closer to a word, the categorial
characters are things. Thus, whereas something is called a cause because of
the role its nature plays, the nature that has this role is a categorial character.
Every determinate character that can belong to things in this way is included
in the categories. Hence, to call something a being because of one of these
categories is to call it a being because some determinate character belongs to it. Its
having this character makes it a being in this way, a categorial being. What
thing has the character? We might suppose that it is a substrate or an ousia,
but (a) ousia is itself one of the characters ascribed to a thing. Furthermore,
(b) a substrate or ousia could have many characters ascribed to it; as such, it
would be a plurality and an accidental being. But Aristotle claims that what
is called a being in respect of the categories is a per se being. For both these
reasons, the thing that has the characters cannot be a substrate or an ousia.
Indeed, the thing that has the character cannot be different from the character
it is. Clearly, if the thing that has the character has it per se and not accidentally, it is going to have to be the character itself. Again, this character is the
what is it?, the quality, the quantity, etc. And, thus, the thing that is called
a being in respect of the categories is not so called merely because it has a
categorial character, but because it is a categorial character. But, as I said, the
categories include all the concrete, determinate characters a thing can have.
So to say that something is a being because it is a categorial character is to
say that it is a being because it is some determinate character. This point
is usually expressed by saying: to be is to be something. However, this formulation does not mean that categorial being, being something, is the only
way of being. There are two other ways of being per se. What distinguishes
the characters of things that exist as categorial beings from the characters of
things that exist in the other ways and from the characters that other terms
discussed in signify? Only that the former fall under the categories. As
such, they each have a concrete, determinate content. This much we can infer
from Aristotles text.
77
But let us reflect a bit on this way of being. A single thing will generally
have multiple characters from the same category: white is a color, an affective quality, and a quality; Socrates is a human being, a mammal, an animal,
and an ousia. But we know from later in the Metaphysics (Z 12, H 6) that these
characters are not many; they are potential parts of the one essence that makes
some thing what it is.22 That is, the more widely shared characters are potential
parts of the narrower characters; thus, animal is somehow included within
human being. As we saw in Categories 1, the essence of a thing is qualified as
the essence in respect of a name: Socrates essence as a human being is different and more inclusive than his essence as an animal. The definition that
is the formula of an essence includes a genus and a differentia, and the highest
genus, included implicitly in every definition, is the categorial genus. Now,
then, if something is called a being in the categorial sense by having some
determinate character, and that character is, as noted, the essence that makes
the thing what it is, then a thing is called a being by having an essence and,
thereby, a definition. Again, what makes a thing a being in the categorial
sense is the character that is its essential nature, for this essential nature is just
a character of a certain sort, a character through which the thing belongs to
a category. And because the thing has an essence and falls under a category,
it admits of a formula that expresses its essence, a definition. So, in general,
a thing that is called a being because it falls under a category is something
that has a definition. Thinking now about the three-component analysis, we
see that the definition in respect of which a thing is called a being in this
way is just definition or having a definition! But definition in the latter
sense is not the real definition that makes an individual thing an instance of
a category and, thereby, a being. We are, rather, referring collectively to all
these real definitions and noting that having one of them is what defines a
thing as a being in this sense. Again, there is no definition that belongs in
common to all real definitions: when we speak about definition as making
something an instance of a category or a being, we are using the term definition across categorial lines, without any categorial content. So to talk about
things in all the categories being beings by virtue of their real definitions
is to provide, for the three-component analysis, a definition that is not itself a
real definition even though it is functioning here as if it were. Moreover, this
definition of categorial being is distinct from the other definitions in respect
of which things are called beings in other ways.
In short, sticking with Aristotles brief description of categorial being in
7, we can see that the definition component of the three-component analysis is being a determinate character. A thing is called a being because
22. See Halper, One and Many in Aristotles Metaphysics: The Central Books,11114.
78
it is a determinate character. Anticipating what Aristotle says later in the

Metaphysics, we can see that the definition component is having an essence
or having an essential definition. In fact, this discussion of categorial being
presupposes results that emerge from book . What Aristotle shows there,
on the reading I advance in Chapter 5, is that each categorial being has a
determinate character defined by a real definition. For the present purposes
what matters is not that having an essential definition defines categorial
being but that this way of being has a definition. That Aristotle takes categorial
being to be marked from the other ways of being by some sort of definition
supports the three-component analysis that I am advancing here.
Let us now turn to (2) being as actual/potential. Aristotle distinguishes
between them with a series of examples: someone able to see and someone
actually seeing, someone able to use knowledge and the one using it, and
what is not yet ripe and the ripe grain. This distinction is between what is
capable of something and that of which it is capable. It cuts across categorial
lines: to be capable of using knowledge is a quality, to be not yet ripe an
ousia. Because they differ in every genus, the potential and the actual are
not real definitions, but they do mark out aspects of things, namely, the way
some characters are fully realized, and others not. Thus, they are serving as
definitions, for a thing is called a being because it has realized a character
or, alternatively, because it is capable of realizing a character. Unripe grain
is a potency for a specific realization, grain. Whereas being a potency distinguishes it as a distinct kind of being from ripe grain, both belong to the
category of ousia and are, thereby, also beings in respect of the categories.
In general, a potency is defined through the realization it is a potency for,
and both belong to the same category.
This schema of actual/potential may, thus, justify including potential and
realization in the same category, but it does not expand the scope of being.
Potencies always have characters that make them instances of some category,
though not generally the same characters as their realizations. Thus, a stone,
that is potentially Hermes, and a boy, who is potentially a man, are each ousiai
in their own right. So the actual/potential schema does not mark off a new
being; it redivides the categorial beings into those that are potential and those
that are actual. This division will be imperfect because some things fall under
both heads in different respects. Still, actual and potential serve, in effect, as
definitions in respect of which things are said to be.
The definition in respect of which something is (3) a being as true or
false is more difficult to see from 7. Most scholars have discussed truth as a
property of statements and thoughts, and ascribed a correspondence theory
of truth to Aristotle. He does mention here that being as true or false holds
likewise of assertions and denials (1017a3233). On the other hand, Aristotle
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has a notion of truth that belongs to things ( 1, 993b2631), and nothing here
limits his discussion of truth to statements and thoughts. An objective truth
would be more in line with Aristotles concern in 7. The problem with objective truth is always how truth could belong to things. We have already seen
that though the false is non-being, it is not absolute non-being, but a relation
to what is. It would be consistent if the true were also in things. Consider
his examples of this schema: Aristotle explains that the is in Socrates is
musical signifies that this is true, as does the is in Socrates is not-pale,
whereas is not in the diagonal is not commensurate signifies that it is false
(1017a3133). What is true here is that Socrates and musical are conjoined and
that Socrates and not-pale are conjoined; what is false is that diagonal and
commensurate are conjoined. If Aristotle were talking about a correspondence
between sentence and thing here, he should have said that the diagonal is
not commensurate is true!23 For this negative statement does correspond to
the separation in things. He must, then, be referring to the combinations and
separations in things. What is conjoined or one is true, and as such, the unity
exists. Along this same line, Aristotle claims that what is simple is also true
( 10, 1051b301052a3); he is referring to a thing that is grasped by a direct
intuition. In short, it seems that things are called a being as true if they are
combined or one, and not being if they are separated.
An objective truth raises the possibility that the same thing be called a
being in all three per se ways. This is important for the Metaphysics. Aristotle
examines each of the three ways of being at length in the central books, and it
turns out that the same thing, ousia, is not only a being in all three ways, but
is also primary in each way.24 This convergence is fundamental for the project of
23. Worried about how a sentence could be a per se instance of being when some
sentences are accidental, Ross claims that Aristotle is referring to sentences about
sentences, Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics,1:3089. It is not clear how he thinks this
solves the problem, it leaves first order being sentences unaccounted for, and Rosss
application to Aristotles examples is confused. Paolo Crivelli, Aristotle on Truth
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004),45 n.1, thinks that this passage
refers to objects or states of affairs as true.
24. Aristotle distinguishes the ways of being again in E 2 (1026a33b2) and proceeds
to consider accidental being (E 23), the categories (Z-H), actual/potential (19),
and true/false (E 4, 10). On the convergence of these ways, see Halper, One and
Many in Aristotles Metaphysics: The Central Books,22729. In contrast, Charlotte
Witt, Ways of Being: Potentiality and Actuality in Aristotles Metaphysics (Ithaca:
Cornell University Press, 2003),89, must reject convergence because she thinks
that being in the sense of the categories differs in purpose and content from being
as actuality/potentiality. Apart from 7, there are other passages where Aristotle
indicates that actuality and potentiality fall within each categorial genus ( 10,
1051a34b1; Phys. 1, 200b2628, 201a310). Also, Aristotle identifies what is
80
metaphysics, but it is unique to being. The things that are called by the other
metaphysical terms examined in book do not converge. In these other cases,
no single thing or type of thing is primary in all ways the term is said.
All this is fairly straightforward, but there is one detail of 7 that is widely
overlooked: Aristotle uses the same example, musical man, to illustrate accidental being (1017a3) and being as true (1017a33). Indeed, the musical man is
also a person who is capable of using his musical knowledge without actively
using it (1017b35), and musical is one of Aristotles standard examples of
a quality and fits well with Aristotles examples of categorial beings here
(1017a2730). It is not problematic that one thing be called a being per se in
respect of different definitions, but it is troubling that musical man is both a
being per se and an accidental being. How is that possible?
To answer this question, let us consider the various definitions in respect
of which this thing, musical man, is called a being. This also is a way to
apply the discussion of this section more concretely. First, (a) musical man is
a being because musical belongs to something that is, namely, man (see case
[2] in 1017a1922 quoted above). The definition in respect of which musical
man is a being is, thus, the definition of what is, that is, the definition of man
(cf. Z 4, 1029b1316). Thus, the essence of musical man is simply the essence
of man. There is no definition of the composite musical man except that constructed from the definitions of its constituents, and these do not constitute a
single entity. Musical man is merely a conjunction, a coincidence.25 As such,
primary amoung ousia as form and form, in turn, as actuality (H 6, 1045b1723).
So at the very least the ways of being are interwoven.
25. Aristotle does recognize a secondary definition for accidental composites (Z 4,
1030b1213). On this issue, see Halper, One and Many in Aristotles Metaphysics:
The Central Books,4956.
Christopher Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and , 2d ed.,
Clarendon Aristotle Series (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993),3940 translates
what I render as accidental ( ) as coincidental, and he
discusses at some length the question of what Aristotle means by this term
(pp. 14446). He thinks its most likely meaning is (1) derivative, despite
the drawback that this will not work for other terms that are also said
. Kirwan is right that Aristotles examples are derivative; but this
does not explain why they belong accidentally, and derivative misleadingly
suggests that the accident could be derived from the ousia in which it inheres.
Kirwan considers the possibility that coincidental means (2) non-essential,
an interpretation close to mine; but he dismisses it on the ground that, while
we could say that man is non-essentially artistic, it would be inconsistent to
say that an artistic man is non-essentially existent (p. 144). What seems to be
bothering him is that whereas essential indicates a relation between two
things, there is nothing here in respect of which the artistic man could be or
not be essential. The obvious meaning of non-essential is lacking an essence,
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it has no proper definition. By itself though, (b) musical has a definition (even
though it exists in the man). It is an instance of the category of quality, and
thereby admits of definition through genus and differentia. Thus, the mans
musicality is called a being per se in respect of the definition of its essential
nature. Man and musical are sufficiently independent to be known through
their own definitions. Further, (c) musical man is actualized when the man
is making music, and it is a potentiality when he is not making music but
knows how to do so. Either actually or potentially, musical man is a per se
being because he is called a being in respect of a definition, the definition
of his activity, not of his categorial essence.
The difficult case is (d) how the conjunction of musical and man can be
a per se being in respect of truth. This conjunction does not arise because of
a common essence or an act. It exists as a mere conjunction, but this would
seem to be exactly the relation that made the musical man accidental in
(a)! Again, how can conjunction make the musical man a per se being in
respect of truth, when it also makes it an accidental being? If we confine
our attention to the thing or the name alone, this question has no answer.
We need to consider the pertinent definition. As I said, musical man is an
accidental being because this composite has no definition. Its constituents
do have definitions, and that means that they have categorial essences to
define. So the definition that the accidental being lacks is the formula of the
conjunctions categorial essence. On the other hand, if it is combination or
unity that makes something be true, then the same conjunction of man and
musical is a being in respect of truth. Again, musical man does not have a
definition if that definition is the formula of its (single) categorial essence,
but it does have a definition if the definition is just their being conjoined or
one. Things are not beings in respect of truth because of the kinds of things
they are. For a thing to be true is for it to be conjoined or one. Thus, to say
Socrates is musical is to assert that Socrates and musical are combined,
but one needs a three-component analysis to understand this, and Kirwan does
not endorse this account.
One point of 7 is that when one says that something is or exists, one is not
always saying the same thing. To say that musical man is is merely to assert the
conjunction of musical and man, whereas to say that Socrates exists is to assert
that he has an essence. This distinction is opaque to grammar. Kirwan is also
concerned that, because artistic depends on man, separating the two would produce the sort of regress we find at Parmenides 142de. In fact, Aristotle relies on
the connection between artistic and its subject when he proposes a definition of
accidental composites in Z 4, as I show in the passage from my book cited earlier
in this note. But no regress arises. Aristotles separation of categories depends
on defining beings such as musical apart from the particular ousiai in which they
must inhere, though not apart from ousia in general.
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and if the statement is true, it is so because these two things are, in fact,
combined ( 10, 1051b29). Again, the definition in respect of which musical Socrates is or is called a being is a combination or unity. Hence, being
as true is existential being, it is a distinct way of being, and it has its own
definition.26 Likewise, not-being as false also has a definition that expresses
the state of things: things that are many or separated are false. As I noted,
in his later treatment Aristotle takes unity as prior and more proper to truth
and the simple as the most true.27 There may be a hint of this priority here
in 7 when he mentions Socrates being not-pale as an example of being in
respect of truth (1017a34). He could as well have spoken of the separation
of Socrates and pale or of Socrates not being pale, but he makes a point of
understanding the example as an instance of being as truth. In any case,
the definition implicit here applies most readily to things. In short, the threecomponent analysis proves its value by allowing us to understand how the
same example can fall under each of Aristotles ways being is said.
This sketch of the different ways in which musical man can be called a
being helps us also to appreciate the richness of Aristotles account. Musical
man is a being per se because, to apply what I noted earlier: (1) musical has
some essential character, (2) that character is fully or less than fully realized
in the act of making music, or (3) the conjunction of musical and man exists.
Clearly the different ways of being do not divide all beings into three genera.
Aristotle is not slicing a pie so much as sketching different ways of slicing
it. These ways of slicing being depend on focusing attention on important
features shared by things. These features are not real essences or, rather, in
the case of categorial being they are not only real essences. But the features
do belong to and characterize things.
7s characterizations of the ways being is said constitute preliminary
sketches of the definitions in respect of which things are called by this term.
Although 7 does not announce its interest in definitions and non-categorial
essences, one reason to think they are implicit here is that the three-component
analysis helps to resolve some difficulties, as we have seen; and this analysis
is consistent with what comes later. The sketch of the ways being is said
in 7 is the point from which the central books treatment of being begins
There I contrast the being of truth with the being of essence and argue that it
means existence. Crivelli, Aristotle on Truth,1034, 112, agrees that to say that a
non-composite thing is in this way is to say that it exists; he thinks that there
may be existential claims about composites as well, but he does not commit
himself.
27. See my discussion of truth, One and Many in Aristotles Metaphysics: The Central
Books,21626.
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(E 2, 1026a33b3). It is refined later when, for example, Aristotle explains

that an accidental composite does have a definition in a secondary way (Z 4,
10301213), and when the definition of musical is shown to depend upon the
definition of ousia and to be less properly a definition than it (1030a1727; 1
1028a3436). 7 is a crude sketch, but Aristotle retains its broad outline in
his fuller treatment.
Aristotles discussion of the ways one is said in 6 parallels his treatment
of the ways being is said, but it contains additional levels of complexity.
Both distinguish the accidental ways from the per se ways the term is said,
and both describe multiple per se ways. In both, each per se way is a schema
with multiple entries. But whereas there are three per se ways being is said,
there are four or five per se ways one is said. This difference in number along
with the difficulty of pairing ways of being with ways of being one show the
two treatments to be quite different. In addition, 6 discusses, besides the
schemata of one, the essence of one ( ), qualitative and quantitative series of ones, and the opposites of one. The treatment of being in 7
contains nothing that corresponds to these latter.
More detailed consideration of the differences between s treatments of
being and one must await further analysis, but we have seen enough to be
suspicious of the widely held view that Aristotle thinks one is much the same
as being. Passages that seem to align the diverse ones with diverse beings
(e.g., Z 4, 1030b1012; I 2, 1054a1318) mention only the categorial genera, one
schema of being. To associate one way one is said with one way being is
said is not to pair all ones and beings.
An issue raised about 6 is whether it conceives of one as a one-place
or a two-place operator: one is said sometimes of a single thing, as in x
is one, and other times of two things, as in x and y are one.28 The latter,
two-place claim means either (a) x and y are the same sort of thing or (b) x
and y are both constituents of the same thing.29 Whereas (a) asserts identity,
(b) claims wholeness. The tendency among scholars is to view the ways one
28. See Nicholas P. White, Aristotle on Sameness and Oneness, Philosophical Review80
(1971):184.
29. White, Aristotle on Sameness and Oneness,186. Karl Popper, The Principle of
Individuation, Proceedings of the Aristotelian Societysuppl. vol. 27 (1953):100101.
See also Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,134.
84
is said as two-place usages, but we can see this is not right by reflecting on
what 9 says about same. Same is,
. . . said in as many ways as one . . . so that it is clear that sameness is
a kind of oneness either of what is many or of what is used as many, as
when someone says something is the same as itself (1018a49).
Same is a oneness that is used either of many things or of one thing treated as
many. In the former case, the many things have some one character in common.
In the latter, one thing is the same as itself despite its having multiple names
or attributes. In both cases, same is said of things that are each one. Indeed, if
sameness is a oneness of what is many or of what is used as many, then each of
the things that is the same must be one. Evidently, same is a multi-place usage
of one, and one, too, has a multi-place usage. But both presuppose individuals
that are each one. Hence, one must have a one-place usage that is prior.
It is clear that this one-place use must be prior because, first, it is not possible
to have a many treated as one unless each of the many is already one. Before we
can say that two things are one, we need to be able to say that something is one.
Further, because same is said in as many ways as one, for every way that
one is said, there is a way same is said. Since same is a two-place predicate
indicating the oneness of its arguments, were one also a two-place predicate,
there would be no difference between them. Since there clearly is a difference,
one should be one-place. Finally, one way one is supposed to be two-place is
when it indicates that its constituent parts constitute a wholesee (b) above. But
there could not be a way same is said that corresponds with this two-place usage
of one. If, though, one is used as a one-place predicate indicating wholeness,
then there would be a corresponding use of same because the whole is the
same as itself. And the cited passage makes clear that instances of same depend
on there being individuals that are each one. In sum, although there are twoplace uses of one, the one-place usages are prior. Hence, each way one is said
should be understood first as a character of some individual thing.
This conclusion, based on a comparison between 6 and 9, does not sufficiently address the concern that, apart from what he says about same
elsewhere, in 6 Aristotle might still suppose one to be said of x and y to
signify their unification. We will need to see whether he does, but it is worth
asking whether we might reasonably expect this doctrine or, better, why we
should not expect to find it. At first glance, the claim that x and y together
are one seems to be incoherent. If x and y are distinct things, then each is
one, and together they are not one but two. Conversely, if x and y did truly
constitute one thing, they would not have an individual identity, and we
would be unable to distinguish them. On further consideration, we can see
85
an ascending line of apparent counterexamples. The first is an accidental

composite like musical man, discussed in the last section. Musical and man
are united in the composite, but each can be understood independently. But
we saw that just because they are understood independently, the composite is accidental. It has no proper essence that would make it one. Another
counterexample is an artifact whose parts together make it what it is. These
parts can exist and be grasped on their own, yet together they make the
artifact what it is. In this case, the composite has an identity because its
parts can function together, but its unity is limited and less than that of an
organic whole. This latter is the third counterexample. In the organic whole,
one part can be distinguished from another, as, for example, a hand from
a leg; but these parts do not retain their identity apart from the whole (Z
10, 1035b2325). Finally, there is the organic composite of form and matter.
We can distinguish its parts, form and matter, by their functions, but we
cannot distinguish their content because proximate matter is identified as
what is potentially what the form is actually (H 6, 1045b2022).30 Hence, the
organic composite is most one. In short, the more unified and one something
is, the less the things parts can be distinguished; and the more fully the
parts can be distinguished, the less one it is. So what I have been calling
counterexamples do not undermine the initial reasoning so much as show
it to apply in degrees. It remains true that two things do not become one.31
The unified entity is prior.
In general, Aristotle argues that a thing is not constituted from its parts but
that its parts emerge from the division or analysis of the thing. It is the supposition that a line is constituted from points that, famously, generates Zenos
paradoxes, and Aristotle would skirt them by insisting that points arise from
the division of lines.32 Likewise an ousia is prior to its constituents. In every
case, a unity is prior to plurality.
Hence, we need not be concerned with the so-called two-place usage in
which two things are identified as parts of a wholenot because this could
not happen but because it is posterior to a one-place usage. If this is right,
we can affirm the previous conclusion that each way one is said should be
understood first as a character of some individual thing. We will see in the
31. Aristotle devotes Physics E 3 to describing continuity by distinguishing different
ways things come together. I discuss this passage later (2.2.2). It characterizes
continuity in a way that is prior to us. At the very beginning of Phys. Z, Aristotle
refers back to this passage to declare that what is continuous cannot be constituted
from indivisible parts.
32. Aristotle devotes all of Physics Z to Zenos paradoxes. He denies at the beginning
that a line is composed of points (1, 230a2126).
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following analysis of 6 that each of them can be readily understood this

way. Besides laying the groundwork for understanding the arguments where
Aristotle puts one to work, 6 raises several philosophical issues, not all of
which I can explore here.
Aristotle begins his discussion of the ways one is said with the assertion that
some things are said to be one accidentally and some per se, and he proceeds
to discuss each in turn. After a brief presentation of examples of things that
are accidentally one (1015b1620),33 examples that resemble his examples of
accidental beings in 7 (1017a812), he lists the accidental ones along with
the reason that each is called one.
All these are said to be one accidentally: [1] The just and the musical
because they happen to belong to one ousia; [2] the musical and Coriscus
because one of them belongs to the other; likewise, in some fashion [3]
the musical Coriscus is one with Coriscus because one of the parts happens to belong to the other in the formula; e.g., the musical belongs to
Coriscus; [4] the musical Coriscus [is one] with the just Coriscus because
a part of each belongs to the same one thing; and in the same way [5] if
the occurrence [of unity] were said of genera or of names of some universal; for example, that man and the musical man are the same. For this
is because either the musical happens to belong to man, which is one
ousia, or both belong to some individual, such as Coriscusexcept that
both do not belong in the same way, but the one perhaps as a genus and
in the ousia, and the other as a state or affection of an ousia. Whatever is
said to be one accidentally is said in this way (1015b2136).
Each example consists of a pair that Aristotle claims to be one or, sometimes,
the same (1015b18). The pairs each consist of the following constituents: two
accidental attributes, an accidental attribute with the ousia in which it inheres,
one part of an accidental composite with the whole composite, two accidental
complexes with the same ousia, a universal and a composite that falls under it.
Each accidental one is, thus, a plurality. Importantly, one constituent of each
complex is ousia; it is present even when it is not explicitly mentioned in the
pair, and Aristotle emphasizes here that it is one (1015b3031). This ousia is
united, in the composite, with one or more accidental attributes, attributes that
happen to belong to it and that might also happen not to belong to it without
33. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:301, notices that the examples precede the list.
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affecting what it is. Clearly, the unity of the substrate ousia is not the accidental
unity ascribed to the whole composite, for were it, too, accidental, we would
need to ask about its substrate, and so forth. The regress argument here is the
same as that about the substrate of accidental being (2.1.3).
Although Aristotles examples of accidental ones are straightforward, there
is some question about what sort of unity they have. Each pair is a sort of
conjunction, but just what is conjoined? Is it the names that are accidentally
one in that Coriscus and musical have the same reference? In this case
accidental oneness would be identity of reference. Or is it things that are
conjoined into a whole and, thereby, accidentally one?
The notion that the names are accidentally one because they have the same
reference is easily excluded. None of Aristotles examples is of the Tully is
Cicero variety. In each case, the unity depends on some conjunction of things,
and the names signify either the conjoined parts or one of the parts and the
whole. The references of the musical and Coriscus are not strictly the
same; Coriscus refers to a person, an ousia, and the musical refers either
to a quality or the ousia with that quality. Aristotle takes ousia and quality
to be distinct categorial genera, even if one depends on the other. Although
the musical could refer to Coriscus, it is not a name for Coriscus; it signifies him only because he has a property that it also mentions. As Aristotle
says in the quoted passage, the musical and Coriscus [are one] because one
of them belongs to the other. Clearly, they are not one because they have the
same reference. But consider the cited passages fifth case. There Aristotle
mentions the names of some universals, and someone intent on arguing
that accidental unity is identity of reference might take names of universals
to be descriptive names whose references Aristotle would identify. Lefty
and red function as descriptive names when they pick out one person by
identifying prominent attributes, like left-handedness and red hair. Likewise,
Aristotles claim in case five that musical man is one with musical because
both musical and man belong to one individual might be taken to assert that
these two universals, musical man and man, are descriptive names that
have the same reference. However, the reason Aristotle gives for accidental
unity in case five excludes this interpretation: man is musical because musical
belongs to man or because both belong to Coriscus. I have already noted
that the former reason is not compatible with identity of reference because it
refers to a property belonging to an ousia. Nor is the latter compatible with
identity of reference because both also refers to properties, of some sort,
that would belong to Coriscus: for, as Aristotle explains, one [man] belongs
as a genus and in the ousia, and the other [musical] as a state or affection.
He is talking here, and throughout the quoted passage, about a conjunction
of entities, rather than names with identical reference.
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What sort of conjunction of things is an accidental unity? What sort of unity do

the conjoined things have? We have seen that the conjunction exists between an
individual ousia and at least one attribute from another category, and that it may
also include a universal character like a genus as well as additional attributes.
It is reasonable to suppose that (a) the constituents of the composite are parts
of a whole and that its unity is thereby some sort of wholeness. Then, Coriscus
and musical would be one by being parts of a whole, and, likewise, just and
musical would be one by being parts of a whole. However, the latter is case [1],
and Aristotle says there that just and musical are one because both belong to an
ousia that is one. Evidently, they are not one by being a whole. They derive their
unity from the unity of ousia apparently because both inhere in the same ousia.
The former case, Coriscus and musical, might seem to be a whole from the way
Aristotle describes it in case [2]: they are one because one of them belongs to
the other. However, in the same discussion as the quoted passage, Aristotle
declares that Coriscus and musical are the same (1015b1619; cf. 1015b2930).
Same refers to an identity rather than a whole (1018a49).34 Coriscus and
34. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,134, thinks that examples like
the unity of man and musical man, examples where Aristotle is not talking
about two distinct constituents of a whole, are an embarrassment for Aristotle
because he endorses, in his first edition, a view like (a). He thinks that Aristotle
confuses two types of questions, questions about the identity of reference and the
unity of constituents in a whole. But Aristotles discussion of accidental unity is
exclusively concerned with identities, though they are not identities of reference
in the usual sense in which the reference is an ousia. In his Further Comments
in the second edition, Kirwan takes more seriously the possibility that accidental
unity is a kind of identity (pp. 21011), and here he understands identity as the
concurrence of musical and man. He is puzzled about whether their concurrence
counts as a distinct entity. In my view, the puzzle does not stem from Aristotles
failing to work it out (p. 214). Rather, accidental composites have diminished
ontic status because they are not intrinsically or essentially one. They are not
fully intelligible as independent entities.
Gareth Matthews, Accidental Unities, in Language and Logos: Studies in Ancient
Greek Philosophy Presented to G. E. L. Owen, ed. Malcolm Schofield and Martha Craven
Nussbaum (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1982),224, calls accidental
composites kooky objects and thinks that Aristotle appeals to them to give a
semantics of ordinary language. Matthews maintains that Aristotle uses kooky
objects to skirt problems with substitutions in intentional contexts. He emphasizes
the difference between Coriscus and a kooky object like that designated by the
masked man: the two are merely accidentally the same, not identical (p.227).
There are two problems with this. First, it is unclear why masked man is an accidental unity and why it and Coriscus are one. An account of accidental unity ought to
explain why Coriscus, masked, and man are all one. This account does not. Indeed,
Matthews reverses Aristotles intentions in 6; for he explains why the complexes
are not one, whereas Aristotle aims to show why they are one. Second, apart from
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musical are not identical wholes; they are the same because their ousia is one
and the same. Hence, in case [2], as in all the other cases here, the composites
unity derives from the unity of its ousia. It is not one as a whole.
It seems to follow that the accidental composite must be one in the way
that (b) the ousia to which the other parts belong is one. Aristotle claims here
that musical and just are one because they belong to an ousia that is one. But
their unity cannot be the unity of the ousia because the ousia is one per se, not
accidentally. The ousias being one is responsible for the unity of the composite,
but the latter cannot be reduced to the unity of the ousia. Nor is it plausible
that the unity of the composite could be (c) a common character shared by
musical Coriscus and just Coriscus, even though Aristotle here identifies
them (case [4]). There is no character that is common, except perhaps that of
Coriscus. Were his unity that of the composites, this case would reduce to (b).
Were the unity rather a common character of the attributes, there would be
no difference between Coriscuss musicality and his justice.
The only alternative that remains is that (d) the composite is simply a
conjunction of constituents that is one because everything else inheres in
an ousia that is one per se. This is what the other three alternatives assume,
but they propose ways to account for the unity of the constituents. We
have seen that the musical and the just are not one because they are parts
of a whole, by being a single ousia, or by sharing some common character.
Musical merely happens to inhere together with just in an ousia, and the
unity of the ousia somehow makes the conjunction of it and its attributes
one. Musical is designated in Greek with the article the musical (
), a phrase that could signify the attribute alone, the ousia alone, or
the conjunction of ousia and attribute. The first two of these interpretations
are consonant with alternatives (c) and (b). I think Aristotle means the third
interpretation: the composite consists only of the conjunction of ousia and
its attributes. Significantly, there is nearly nothing more to say about the
accidental composite.
There is some support for my view in the fact that the conjunction that
makes an accidental composite one is the same conjunction that makes it an
accidental being in 6. In both cases, the only glue that holds the constituents
together is the capacity of ousiai to receive attributes. The composite is accidental
because there is no essence of attribute and ousia together. Their conjunction
lacks a structure or an intelligible cause.
a passage in De Sophisticis Elenchis that Matthews cites, Aristotle exhibits very little
concern with substitution in opaque contexts; nothing of this emerges in 6 where
the treatment of accidental one appears. There is no reason to think that Aristotle
aims, in this chapter, to give a semantics of ordinary language.
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We can contrast this accidental composite with what we could call an

essential composite. A triangles angles necessarily equal two right angles,
and its largest angle is always opposite the longest side. Hence, the thing
that has angles equal to two right angles is one with the thing that has
its largest angle opposite its longest side. This last sentence has the same
form as the identity of the just with the musical. And in both cases, the
attributes are conjoined because they inhere in some nature. The difference
is that the attributes of the triangle belong to it by virtue of its nature and can
be demonstrated from its nature.35 The unity of the triangle and its attributes
is a consequence of its essence, and the attributes belong to the unity of this
nature. Hence, the triangle with angles equal to two right angles is essentially
the same as the triangle that has its largest angle opposite its longest side,
and indeed every triangle together with its essential attributes is essentially
identical with every other triangle plus its essential attributes.
Such an essential connection is lacking in Aristotles examples of accidental ones. The musical and the just may be Coriscus, but they cannot be
demonstrated to be so from his nature. An accidental unity is one where the
components are not united essentially. They retain their plurality and diversity in the composite. Hence, there is always something unintelligible about
identifying the just and the musical. They are one by being conjoined, but
not essentially one.
Now that we see why an accidental composite is one, we can ask, when
are two such composites the same? Again, they must each be one in order
to be the same, but when are they the same one? We have just seen that this
question does not arise in the case of essential composites because those with
the same ousia always have the same attributes and are, thus, always the
same. Earlier, I rejected the idea that an accidental composite would be one
by being a whole, an individual ousia, or a character common to attributes.
The alternative that remains, simple conjunction, does not have a nature.
Must we, then, say that two composites are the same when all the conjoined
constituents, stated or unstated, are the same? Then, just Coriscus and musical
35. Essential attributes belong to their subjects always or for the most part. Kirwan,
Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,13435, argues that accidental one cannot be understood in terms of Aristotles characterization of accidental as what
is neither always nor for the most part (E 2, 1026b3133) because some of what is
accidental might belong to a particular thing for the most part; such as, white of
Socrates. I think that this objection misunderstands the definition of accidental.
Something is always or for the most part not if it is always present in a single
individual but if it is always or usually present in all individuals of that type.
For Socrates to be always or for the most part white, he would have to be always
or for the most part, that is, to be eternal.
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Coriscus will be the same when each of them is a conjunction of Coriscus

with: just, musical, Athenian, well-dressed, and so forth. And the musical,
well-dressed Coriscus cannot be the same as the just, shabbily-dressed
Coriscus. Or is it not, rather, the case that it is one and the same Coriscus
who is one day well-dressed and another rather shabby, and, thus, that the
last two composites are one? Aristotle does not say that some accidental
composite is one with another because all the constituents are same, but
because the substrate ousia to which the accidents belong is one. But this
does not quite settle the issue. If it is only their substrates being one that
makes just and musical one, then it scarcely matters whether just and musical belong at the same time. On the other hand, if it is their both belonging to
something one that makes musical and just be one, then perhaps they and
all other attributes do need to be present together. In the former case the
identity is substantial, in the latter strict.
Most likely, Aristotle would accommodate both strict and substantial
identity, noting only that each is one in a way. But it also seems likely, from
his repeated emphasis on the substrates being one, that this is what is crucial
for the identity of accidental composites. Mostly, it is the unity of Coriscus
that makes one all composites of which he is a part, regardless of whether his
attributes are temporally copresent.
In any case, it is important to see that accidental unity is not merely a conjunction, but a conjunction of accidents in a substrate that is one, and that the
unity of the substrate is somehow responsible for all the accidents being one.
Hence, as I mentioned earlier, this discussion is exactly parallel to Aristotles
treatment of accidental being. Just as accidental composite is a being because
a substrate within it is a being per se, so too the unity of the accidental composite depends on there being some substrateand, clearly, it is the same
substratewithin it that is one per se. In both cases, it is the inherence of
attributes in an ousia that makes the composite possible. Multiple attributes
are not conjoined except through some substrate, and insofar as this substrate
is and is one, the composite is and is one, albeit with a different being and
unity than that of the substrate.
There is, though, a striking problem with one unitys causing another.
The very substrate that, because it is one, makes a unity of itself and the
attributes conjoined with it, must also, by virtue of its own unity, make the
composite many. For insofar as the substrate that is a proper part of the
composite is one, the entire composite must be more than one. Aristotle
seems to acknowledge the plurality of the composite when he claims, in the
passage cited at this sections beginning, that the musical Coriscus is one
with Coriscus because one of the parts happens to belong to the other in
the formula; e.g., the musical belongs to Coriscus. The accidental composite
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musical Coriscus is a plurality because it contains one part that belongs to

another. So even while Aristotle is explaining why each composite is one,
he is also showing why it is many. The accidental unity Aristotle describes
here is the unity of a plurality. It is, as we have seen, a conjunction lacking an
essence that links all constituents. As such, an accidental unity has a diminished ontic status and remains, to some degree, unintelligible. Ironically, the
account that explains the unity of an accidental composite not only makes
it a plurality but also unintelligible.
Accidental one is quite similar to accidental being, as we have seen. It lacks
an essence or a cause of conjunction. But an accidental beings dependence on a
per se being does not generate the paradoxes that arise from the parallel notion
that accidental one depends on something more one. Because an accidental
being depends on an ousia, the accidental being cannot be self-subsistent. On
the other hand, an accidental ones dependence on an ousia makes it, paradoxically, many. So explaining accidental one requires grasping its contrary,
plurality. In general, the contraries are endemic to discussions of one, but not
to discussions of being. An accidental composite is not one because its ousia
is one, except indirectly. More properly, the unity of the accidental composite
stems from its containing an ousia in which attributes inhere: that is to say, it
is the being of the accidental composite that accounts for its unity.
2.2.2 Continuity (1015b361016a17)
The first per se one mentioned in 6 is the continuous. Aristotles examples
include a bundle, pieces of wood glued together, a leg, an arm, and bent and
straight lines. He defines the continuous as that whose motion is one per se
and cannot be otherwise; and [a motion] is one if it is indivisible, and indivisible in respect of time (1016a56). Most of Aristotles discussion of continuity
aims to establish a hierarchy of what is more continuous. There are two main
distinctions. First, he declares that what is continuous by nature is more one
than what is continuous by art (1016a4). Second, what is straight is more
one than what is bent (1016a1213).
The text does not justify these claims, and there are at least two difficulties
in understanding them. First, this definition of continuity differs from the
one Aristotle gives at Physics E 3, 227a1012. Second, the two main distinctions are interwoven with each other leaving the hierarchy of what is more
continuous ambiguous.
In Physics E 3, Aristotle defines the continuous as the succeeding (
) that also touches in such a way that the limits become one
(227a1012). He sees continuity as a spatial relation, and he goes on in the
next chapter to explain that a motion is continuous if its extremities are one
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(228a20b1). Thus, whereas the Physics uses a spatial notion of continuity to

define unity in motion, Metaphysics 6 uses motion to define continuity.36
Why does Aristotle take this approach in the Metaphysics? The definition
of the Physics is generally regarded as superior because it omits motion.37 It
explains continuity as a kind of congealing of a plurality of discrete things.
When these things are so close together that they lose their individual limits
and come to have the same extremes, they are continuous. As a heuristic
account of continuity, this is fine. The problems arise when we try to think
of the plurality of things that come together to constitute the continuous
thing. First, the plurality cannot be simply points because no plurality of
points could constitute a line or anything that is continuous. Instead, the
plurality must consist of line segments or of things that contain line segments. But these things are already continuous! In other words, since the
Physics describes how to generate something continuous out of a plurality of
other things that are each themselves continuous, it presupposes what it is
supposed to define. There is a second problem: once the plurality of things
come to share their limits in the continuous thing, they lose their identity
and so, too, their limits. Imagine two line segments that satisfy the definition of continuity: the one succeeds the other, and they touch so that one
point is the limit of both. Intuitively, these segments have become one. But
if this is so, then the limits of the new line do not include the single point
in which the original two segments touched. Instead, the limits of the new
line are simply its two end points. The limits of both segments have become
one in the sense that these segments are contained in a single line: their
limits are now the lines limits, and they are no longer identifiable. In short,
the second problem with the Physics spatial definition is that it generates
unity from a plurality, but the unity only comes to be when the plurality
ceases. Again, the Physics explains continuity heuristically by expounding
progressively closer connections of a plurality, but continuity is at the limit,
when the plurality is no longer a plurality. Further, at this limit, there is one
36. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,136, claims that the Physics
definition is echoed at 6, 1016a7 by Aristotles distinction between what is
continuous per se and what is merely in contact. But this distinction is made
immediately after the definition (1016a56), and its point is that what is merely
in contact does not move together. Yet, what is in contact would conform to the
Physics definition to the extent that its limits become one. Hence, 1016a7 serves
rather to highlight the differences between the two definitions.
In the same discussion, Kirwan also remarks that the bundle is continuous by
contact. This is a mistake: the bundle is made continuous by what ties it, in contrast
with wood that is made continuous and one by glue, and so forth (1016a12; H 2,
1042b1218). All these are continuous per se.
37. See Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:302, and Stokes, One and Many,14.
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continuous entity, just the sort of entity the process began with, as we saw
in the problem about conjoining continuous line segments. So rather than a
rigorous definition, the account in the Physics is a way for us to come to know
what continuity is through the negation of its opposite, the discontinuity of
separate, continuous segments.
In contrast, the Metaphysics defines continuity through indivisibility: something is continuous if it has one motion, and it has one motion if its motion
is indivisible in time (1016a6). This latter phrase apparently means that
when it moves, it moves all at once, simultaneously.38 Whereas the spatial
definition spells out conditions under which many things become one, this
definition explains why something is one. A thing is one because all of it can
move all at once.
Motion plays a special role in the Metaphysics, for Aristotle declares that
things are defined through their motions (E 1, 1026a23; Z 11, 1036b2830).
This claim may seem at odds with the more familiar notion that things are
defined through their forms or actualities, but motion and actuality are closer
than often realized. First, motion is, by its definition, a kind of actuality (Phys.
1, 201a1011), an actuality whose end is generally another type of actuality,
namely, a form existing in a matter. However, the end of the motion could also
be simply its own continuation as, for example, when the organs of an animal
function in order to preserve the animal and thereby their own functioning.
This latter is the motion that Aristotle designates as actuality.39 Still, in this
latter case, a motion defines the thing, and this is a motion that it has all at
once because not only must a primary, defining organ function, but all the
other organs function to sustain it. It now emerges that this motion not only
defines the thing, but also makes it continuous. It follows that anything with
such a definition is also continuous.
Since it is only things with matter that can have defining motions or be
continuous, we can express this last conclusion more precisely: anything with
matter that has a definition should be continuous. The converseanything
that is continuous has a definitionis not the case: a leg part is continuous,
but not definable by itself. Moreover, the motion that marks a thing as continuous need not be its definition: a person can have many motions, without
having many definitions. So knowing that something is continuous does not
38. I am following Thomas Aquinass interpretation of this phrase, Commentary on
the Metaphysics, V. L.7:C 853. So does Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , ,
and E,136. It is unclear how to reconcile the importance of continuity by nature
with Aristotles notion that the local motion of animals requires a point of rest
in the joints (De Motu Animalium 2; De Incessu Animalium 3). Perhaps the motion
in respect of which a nature is indivisible in time is growth and development.
39. See Halper, Form and Reason,1025.
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by itself enable us to know its definition or even if it has a definition. On the

other hand, since any material thing with a definition will be continuous, if
a material thing is not continuous, it has no definition. Since this connection
between definition and continuity arises immediately when continuity is
defined through motion, the Metaphysics definition of continuity is closely
connected with essence and, thus, with this works central concerns. Inasmuch
as the Metaphysics defines continuity as a consequence of a material things
essence, its definition of continuity is, in contrast with that of the Physics, more
knowable in itself and, thus, a better definition.
Moreover, the definition of continuity in terms of motion provides
Aristotle with a means to distinguish degrees of continuity, something the
Physics spatial definition does not allow.40 He maintains that a shin or a
thigh is more one than a leg because it is possible that the motion of a leg
not be one (1016a1112); likewise, a straight line is more one than a bent
line because it is possible for [the latters] motion to be together and not
together, whereas the straight line [moves] always together and no part with
magnitude moves while another stands still, as in the case of the bent line
(1016a1417).41 The idea is that a part of a bent line or of a leg could move
while the other part stood still. As such, its motion could be divided in time.
What would move all at once, if it moves at all, is more indivisible in motion
and, hence, more one. The straight line is an example of what must move all
at once if it moves at all, and I think it is what Aristotle has in mind when
he describes the continuous as that whose motion is one per se and cannot
be otherwise (1016a5).
Besides this distinction between straight and bent, Aristotle introduces a
second distinction: what is continuous by nature is more one than what is
continuous by art (1016a4). He says nothing to explain why this is so or, a
problem raised earlier, how this distinction fits with that between bent and
straight. We saw that a shin is more one than a leg because the leg need not
have one motion (1016a1012), that is, because the whole leg need not move
40. Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics, V. L.7:C 854, maintains that the
Metaphysics defines continuity by motion because this definition, unlike the one
in the Physics, enables Aristotle to distinguish degrees of continuity.
41. The term I have rendered bent () could also mean capable of being
bent or flexible (see Kirwans discussion, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and
E, 136). Since Aristotle describes what the term designates as having an angle and
since he uses another phrase for capable of being bent ( 1016a910),
bent is the best translation. Kirwan identifies moving all at once with being rigid,
and he, therefore, takes Aristotle to have altered the definition of continuous when
he speaks of something capable of being bent as continuous. However, something
rigid might not move all at oncefor example, the bent line that is twirledand
something that is not rigid may move all at oncefor example, a bird.
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together (1016a6). But is the leg more or less one than the pieces of wood glued
together to form a straight stick? That is to say, is the continuous by nature but
bent more or less one than what is continuous by art but straight?
6 does not answer this question explicitly, but we can judge what Aristotle
would say by the order of the text. His claim that the continuous by nature
is prior to the continuous by art follows a group of examples that include a
bundle tied with rope and a leg (1016a14). The bundle is continuous by art,
but straight; the leg is continuous by nature but bent. The claimed priority
of nature, therefore, suggests that even when the nature is bent and the art
work straight, the nature is more continuous: apparently, continuity by nature
always trumps continuity by art.
This conclusion suggests a new problem: it is odd, especially in light of
the connection that I drew between continuity and definition, that Aristotle
would declare parts to be more continuous than the whole. It should be the
whole that is most continuous because it moves together by nature, especially
as the whole is defined by this motion. How, then, can Aristotle declare the
shin more continuous than the leg and, by implication, still more continuous
than the whole organism on the ground that the shin moves all at once while
in the leg, and even more in the organism, one part can move while another
remains still (1016a1317)?
This, too, is a question 6 leaves unanswered. We can speculate that the
priority 6 gives to the part stems from its emphasis on local motion, whereas
the motion of the whole nature in respect of which it all moves together is
growth and development or else self-motion. In Physics E 3, Aristotle claims
that natural things are continuous when their parts are naturing together
(227a2425), that is, functioning together as a natural entity;
in this sense, nature is a course of development into a mature nature (B 1,
193b1213). We know from 4 (1015a1315) that a nature has within itself a
principle of motion, and the Physics contrasts the internal principle of a nature
with the external principle, the artisan, of a work of art (B 1, 192b1314, b2732).
Growth and development are the natural motions that the nature grounds
(Met. 4, 1015a1617). It follows that when a whole nature grows naturally
together, its motion is somehow its own. All the parts of the natural organism grow and develop together, even if their rates of development may differ.
Hence, the body of an organism is continuous insofar as it moves together
in development. Likewise, the defining motion or actuality of a physical
ousia is also indivisible in time. An animal defined by its characteristic selfmovement cannot lose the capacity for this movement without ceasing to be
what it is. A motion that stems from a things nature must be per se and not
able to be otherwise (1016a56), for if the motion did change, the thing would
have a different nature.
97
Consider now the natural motions of individual parts. Each organ has
its own parts that are also in the process of nature together and, thereby,
continuous; but its growth and development relies on the rest of the organism. Hence, the natural motion of an individual organ is closer to art than
the natural motion of the whole. And the motion of the whole animal, that
is, its growth and development, coming from itself, is less divisible than the
motion of the part. Likewise, an artifact, relying for its motion on something
external would always be less continuous than a nature even if it were straight
and the nature bent. The artifact would always be divisible in time because,
deriving its motion from something else, it may or may not be in motion,
depending on the disposition of its cause; whereas the motion of the nature,
growth and development, deriving from its own unchanging nature, would
be more constant.42
In short, the natural motion of an ousia is more indivisible in time than
other types of motions, and this is what Aristotle probably has in mind when
he claims that continuity by nature is prior to continuity by art. However, his
discussion in 6 does not mention growth or self-movement but only local
motions. Whereas development and self-motion are continual and measured
by a things nature, local motion is measured by the distance traversed.43
Again, natures are more one than art objects because their motions, being
natural, are indivisible in ways that the motions of artifacts, generally being
local motions with external causes, are not. Thus, the kind of motion that is
indivisible is linked to the degree of continuity of what has that motion (cf. I 1,
1052a2021). However, Aristotles examples emphasize the priority of straight
parts because of their more indivisible local motions. In consequence, there
is no clear way to assemble a hierarchy of what is one by continuity. Aristotle
claims the continuous by nature is prior, but because his examples are often
parts of natures with the rigidity of artifacts, they favor the priority of the
continuous by art.
Beneath these legitimate ways of being one by continuity lies what is one
by contact (1016a79). Aristotle denies that pieces of wood placed so that they
touch are one wood or one body. Presumably, his point is that wood merely
42. My account here resembles that of Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics,
V. L.7:C 851. However, I have elaborated the connection between continuity and
nature and explained his notion of indivisibility in time.
43. This point deserves more attention than I can give it here. The self-motion of an
animal is, of course, a local motion. Not only that, but Aristotle argues that it requires
a part that remains still and another part that acts upon it (De Incessu Animalium 3).
Nonetheless, self-motion serves to sustain the animal so that it remains capable of
continued self-motion. Hence, self-motion is the nature of the organism. Without
an end in itself, local motion must be grasped through its path.
98
in contact does not move together and, therefore, is neither continuous nor
one.44 In touching, the wood meets a spatial criterion for continuity, but this
is inadequate: to be continuous the wood needs an identity as something
determinate. A characteristic motion provides pieces of wood with such an
identity that mere contact does not. Thus, we can see from the case where
continuity fails that one by continuity is closely connected with having an
identity, but Aristotle does not express this point.
In sum, Aristotle is making distinctions between what is more and less
one in continuity that suggest a hierarchy without being sufficiently precise.
Since continuity is closely connected with nature and its essential motions,
Aristotle needs to explore nature further before he can discuss one by continuity more definitively. This he does in the central books. He holds there
that animal parts are not properly ousiai because they do not exist separately
(Z 16, 1040b510); inasmuch as their separate existence is only potential
(1040b1415), they, like points, are not continuous. Nor are artifacts ousiai
because they come to be when an external mover fashions some matter (H
4, 1044a2532); so the matter and the motions it acquires remain distinct
and plural. Hence, neither an animal part nor an artifact has its own motion
that is indivisible in time. Sensible natures alone turn out to be properly
continuous. We see evidence of this conclusion in I 1 (1052a1921), but it is
not apparent in 6.
Besides natures and artifacts, 6 also speaks of lines as continuous, and
lines belong to the genus of quantity. Is the line continuous by nature? The
straight line is continuous by definition, but it is not defined by its motion
(Topics Z 11, 148b2632). It does not move by itself. So, according to the interpretation I have been arguing here, the line cannot be continuous by nature.
On the other hand, if the line has a motion, it moves all at once and cannot
be otherwise. So while the line is not continuous by nature, neither is it held
together by some binding that would qualify it as continuous by art. The
44. In I 1, Aristotle includes among what is said to be one per se what is continuous
simply or by nature, but not by either contact or binding (1052a1920). This passage agrees with 6 in giving priority to what is continuous by nature, but 6
seems to include what is continuous by art among the per se ones. Both passages
agree in excluding what is one by contact from what is continuous.
Stokes, One and Many,14, maintains that Aristotle rejects contact as a type
of continuity in book because he follows ordinary usage closely, whereas in
I1 (1052a1921) a later laxness in linguistic analysis allows Aristotle to accept
contact as a cause of a weak type of continuity. Stokes ascribes the change to his
philosophical intuition that some kind of continuity, . . ., is conferred by even
casual contact. In my view, Stokes draws too much from Aristotles mentioning
contact together with an artificial binding in I 1. Aristotles aim in this passage
is to exclude both artifacts and objects in contact from what is most continuous.
We cannot learn anything positive about objects in contact from this.
99
distinction between continuous by nature and continuous by art does not

seem to apply to it, though, of course, the distinction between straight and
bent clearly does. The straight line is most continuous among quantities,
whereas a physical nature is most continuous among ousiai. Hence, one by
continuity extends beyond a single categorial genus.
One final point about one by continuity. My discussion in this subsection
has emphasized the definition that Aristotle uses to explain continuity, having
a motion that is indivisible in time. The things called continuous in respect
of this definition fall in multiple categorial genera. Without this definition, we
would have only the instances and the name. Moreover, the definition plays
a key role in explaining the examples and setting out orders of prioritization
among them. Hence, Aristotles account of one by continuity in 6 requires
the three-component analysis. 6 sketches a definition of continuity, but it
remains to the central books, especially, Z 17, H 2, and H 6, to explain how an
essence causes the material parts of an ousia to be continuous.
The next essential one that Aristotle considers in 6 is the substrate. There are
two kinds of substrates that he discusses in turn, one I will call the sensible
substrate (1016a1724) and the other the generic substrate (1016a2432).
Aristotle apparently regards them as a single type of one, for he groups them
together in his summaries of the per se ways one is said (1016a9; 1017a46),45
but it is convenient to discuss them separately.
Aristotle describes one in sensible substrate as follows:
Further, in another way something whose substrate is undifferentiated in
form ( . . . ) is said to be one, and undifferentiated
45. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics, 1:302, claims that 1016a9 could refer to either
and that 1017a46 refers to the generic substrate. I think that the latter is also
ambiguous because could refer either to the species or the sensible form (cf.
1016a1819), and, thus, that Aristotle intends both passages to refer inclusively to
both substrates.
Arguing against sharply distinguishing the two substrates, Ross also notes that
Aristotle does not introduce the generic substrate with , his usual marker for
a new sense (1016a17, 1016a32, 1016b11; cf. 7, 1017a31, 1017a35). Although Aristotle
does often use other markers (e.g., [8, 1017b1415]), the phrase he
uses to introduce the generic substrate, (1016a24), would be unusual
for a new sense. He clearly wants to associate generic substrate closely with sensible substrate. I 1s parallel account of the ways one is said does not discuss
sensible substrate, and this one does not fall under either what is indivisible in
motion or what is indivisible in thought and formula (1052a29b1), the chapters
main division of kinds of one.
100
is [said of] things when the form is undivided in respect of sensation

(1016a1719).
The form that is undivided in respect of sensation is a character that we
perceive with the senses to be one, such as sweet or white (cf. 1010b1426)the
sensible form (De Anima B 12, 424a1724). Presumably, form is undivided if a
smaller amount of the substrate is not perceived to have a different character.
Earlier in he had proposed a similar explanation of element:
Element is said of that first constituent of which something is composed that is indivisible in respect of form into another form, . . . and if
they are divided, their parts are of the same form, as the part of water
is water (1014a2531).
Consider a chair. Divided, it ceases to be a chair. Its wood, however, remains
unaltered in this division. Wood is undivided in respect of sensation insofar
as, after this type of division, each part of the wood retains its identity as wood.
In other words, the form of wood is indivisible not because wood cannot be
divided, but because in being divided, it does not become something else. In
general, something is one in sensible substrate because the material which is
its substrate is one in this way. We perceive such a thing to have the sensible
character of its substrate, and we perceive that even after being divided, it
retains this sensible character. Thus, wine is one in sensible substrate insofar
as pouring off a bit of it does not alter the sensible character of what remains,
but the glued wood and the bundleAristotles examples of one by continuityare many in substrate because their parts, after division, no longer have
the character of the whole.
Glue and wood are each one in substrate insofar as they can be divided
into like parts (cf. P. A. B 1, 646a2022), but their substrates are quite different
from each other in sensible appearance. Nonetheless, they may both share a
substrate at a deeper level; indeed, they must do so if Thales is right to say
that all is water. Thus, even if two things are not one in proximate substrate,
they may be one in ultimate substrate. Some such thought motivates Aristotles
distinction between the first and the last substrates:
The substrate is either the first or the last in respect of the end. For wine
is said to be one and so is water insofar as it is indivisible in form, and
all liquids (such as oil, wine) and everything that can be melted are
called one because the ultimate substrate of all is the same; for all these
are water or air (1016a1924).
101
Since the ultimate substrate ( ) in the last line must

be the last ( ) mentioned in the first line, the first in the first
line must refer to a proximate substrate.46 Thus, wine is one in first or proximate substrate because it has the sensible form that characterizes wine; it is
one in last or ultimate substrate because its substrate has the sensible form
that characterizes water or air, namely, being liquid or meltable. That wine
fits under both headings shows that proximate and ultimate substrates are
not groups of things, but different grounds for calling the same things one.
Hence, proximate and ultimate substrates are functioning here as definitions
in a three-component analysis.
Why is water or air an ultimate sensible substrate? What makes it more
ultimate than wine? There is a tension between the idea of a proximate
substrate and that of an ultimate substrate because both are supposed to be
indivisible: if the proximate substrate really is indivisible in sensible form,
there is no ultimate substrate; whereas if the ultimate substrate is indivisible,
the proximate substrate is divisible. The problem can be resolved if there is
a way of distinguishing degrees of indivisibility in sensible form. Aristotle
does not explain how to make this distinction; indeed, he does little more here
than mention examples of things one in proximate and ultimate substrates.
But if we look closely at these examples and bear in mind that something is
one in this way if its sensible substrate is indivisible, we can infer what makes
substrates more or less divisible. He says, first, that wine is one and water is
one insofar as each is indivisible in its own sensible form (1016a2021)they
are each one in proximate substrate. Then, he mentions that liquids, such
as oil and wine, as well as anything that is meltable are all one in sensible
substrate because they are each air or water (1016a2224)these are one in
ultimate substrate. Now water can only be the sensible substrate of oil if oil
has the key sensible characteristic of water. And if oil, wine, and water are all
one in ultimate sensible substrate because all are water, they must share the
sensible characteristic in respect of which water is one in sensible substrate.
Presumably, this characteristic is the sensation of liquidity or flowing. That
is why even solids are one in sensible substrate if they can be melted: under
suitable conditions, we can sense them as having the key sensible character
of water. What, then, distinguishes an ultimate substrate like water from a
proximate substrate like wine? Both have the key sensible character of water,
but wine has, in addition, a sensible character that it does not share with
water. Since wine has this character in addition to the character it has as water,
it is more divisible than water. That is to say, to be a more divisible substrate
46. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics, 1:302.
102
is to be composed of more sensible characteristics. To be less divisible is to

be composed of fewer sensible characteristics. The substrate that has only a
single characteristic is indivisible in form. It is the ultimate substrate and,
apparently, most one.
We can arrive at the same conclusion in a simpler way by using what
Aristotle mentioned in his characterization of element, quoted earlier;
namely, that when an element is divided, its parts have the same form. There
are different ways of dividing things. If I pour off a little wine, what remains
is the same; and much the same holds of anything with like (homogeneous)
parts. Let the wine stand uncovered, and it turns into vinegar, proving that
wine is an additional form of some more ultimate substrate that may or may
not possess this form (H 5, 1044b291045a6, esp. 1045a34). Insofar as wine is
composed of the form and a substrate and insofar as the substrate can exist
alone, wine is indeed divisible. In contrast, water is odorless, colorless, plain
in taste, and without shape. The only positive character we can sense is its
being liquid or flowing, and no division of it into something else is possible
(or, at least, seemed possible to Aristotle). So something whose qualitative
form is indivisible to the senses in at least one way is a proximate substrate,
something whose form is indivisible in more ways is a less proximate and
more ultimate substrate, and what is indivisible in all ways is an ultimate
substrate. Wine cannot be divided by pouring, but it can be divided in other
ways; water cannot be divided. Hence, water is a more ultimate substrate than
wine because water has fewer sensible qualities than wine. Wine is water with
additional sensible forms.
This possibility of further formal determination explains how Aristotle can
recognize sensible differences in water from different sources. For example,
he speaks of water from the same stream as more like than water from different places (Topics A 7, 103a1423), and he distinguishes between hard and
soft water (De Generatione Animalium 2, 767a3435). To say that the water
from a stream is indivisible in respect of its form is to say that any portion of
it will have the same form, not that it will have the same form as any other
water. So the notion of types of water is not problematic in itself. However,
Aristotle also insists that water is an ultimate substrate, indivisible into any
other form. As such, all water, whatever its source, should have the same form.
Is Aristotle contradicting himself when he calls water an ultimate substrate
and acknowledges different types of water? I do not think so. As an ultimate
substrate, water is always the same; but this substrate can also be mixed with
impurities or receive additional forms that change its taste or other characteristics. What is confusing is that sometimes water refers to the ultimate
substrate and other times to a more distinctive type of water. In the former
103
case, the form that is indivisible to the senses is the form of the matter; in the
latter case, the form that is indivisible to the senses distinguishes one instance
of this matter from another and is, thus, more formal. Again, there is a sensible
indivisible form that is strictly material because it cannot be further divided in
any way; this is the form of the ultimate substrate. But there is also a sensible
indivisible form that is divisible into multiple forms; thus, the sensible form
of the water from a mountain well might include the liquidity that marks it as
water as well as, perhaps, a tartness that marks it as water from a particular
source. Evaporating and recondensing, the water would lose the impurities
that distinguish it from other waters. So the sensible form of mountain water
is divisible in a way that the ultimate substrate is not.
How can Aristotle determine which sensible forms are ultimate and
indivisible in all ways, and which are multiple and divisible? Or better, how
can he tell which of the forms that constitute the sensibly indivisible form
of a proximate substrate is also the form of an ultimate substrate? Why, for
example, does he claim that water or air is the ultimate substrate of oil, wine,
and the meltable? Why not say that wine is the ultimate substrate of oil and
air? Aristotles answer is in the passage quoted: The ultimate substrate of
all is the same; for all these are water or air. That is to say, the form of the
ultimate substrate is ultimate because it belongs to all the other substrates.
Other, less ultimate forms will belong to whatever is more proximate. Thus,
we can imagine a chain of substrates, the first of which is simple, and each
succeeding substrate is more complex and, thus, more determinate than
the previous. Nothing prevents there being multiple ultimate substrates.
Determining which substrates are ultimate and which proximate belongs
to the particular sciences rather than metaphysics, but Aristotles examples
illustrate how to make these determinations. He speaks quite tentatively of
these examples, without actually committing himself to endorsing them. He
is not claiming that water and wine are ultimate and proximate substrates,
but that whatever turns out to be such substrates would form a chain, as water
and wine do in his examples.
Everything in such a chain is an instance of the ultimate substrate and,
thereby, water or whatever the ultimate substrate is. As such, they are all one.
But Aristotles interest here is not whether multiple things are one and the
same,47 but whether some individual thing can be called one. His point is
that something is one if it has the sensible characteristic of some substrate. The
substrate is the source of a things unity and identity because the substrate
is irreducible; its other characteristics can be divided from it. Thus, wine has
47. As Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,137, claims.
104
various characteristics that it might lose; for example, its being in this glass,
its turbity, and its temperature. But as a substrate, wine is relatively irreducible because, as I said, when it is separated by being poured off or divided, it
remains the same qualitatively. Its being wine is the relatively indestructible
bedrock of what it is. It makes the thing one because it is the one character
that the thing cannot lose.
Is it, though, wine that makes what is in my cup one or, rather, a more
ultimate substrate like water? The same sort of thinking that motivates identifying wine as the substrate motivates opting for the more ultimate substrate.
In both cases, the substrate is the bedrock character because it cannot be lost
or altered.
It would seem that the ultimate substrate is more properly the cause of a
things unity than its proximate substrate. The philosophers who emphasize
the ultimate sensible substrate are the Ionians. When Thales declares that all
is one (A 3, 983b621), he means to say that water is the ultimate substrate of
all things and that each thing is one insofar as it is water; or this, at least, is
what Aristotle takes him to mean. To say all is water is not to deny the existence of distinct things, but to identify water as the bedrock nature of each.
The idea that a things material substrate could be the principle of its being
is well-known; in 6 Aristotle speaks of that substrate as that in respect of
which a thing is one (cf. I 2, 1053b916). This would be most plausible if there
were a single ultimate substrate, as the Ionians thought. Multiple ultimate
substrates would not, by themselves, cause a things unity. Hence, whether or
not the ultimate substrate is prior turns on the question of whether there is a
single ultimate substrate or, if there are multiple ultimate substrates, whether
each thing is one by its having only one ultimate substrate.
We find Aristotles answer elsewhere. In Meterologica , he speaks of liquids
and meltables as compounded of both air and water (e.g., 7, 383b23; 384a35;
384a15).48 In De Generatione et Corruptione B 8, he argues that all bodies that
are not themselves ultimate substrates are composed of all four simple bodies.
In the Parts of Animals, he argues that the principle of sensation in animals
has heterogeneous parts (B 1, 647a2433). In short, nearly everything besides
earth, air, fire, and water themselves is a compound of some or all of these
four elements. Given that four elements are the ultimate substrates of nearly
everything, nearly nothing could be one in ultimate substrate. Moreover,
once the possibility of a things having multiple ultimate substrates enters
the picture, the relative proportions of those elements becomes an issue and,
with it, the question of form. Of course, what is compounded of multiple
elements, like bone, is one in proximate substrate if it has like parts, but the
48. See Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E, 137.
105
proportion of its ultimate substrate is a kind of form, and it itself is a material of more complex entities. Aristotle must recognize and define one in
ultimate substrate if he is to talk about what is many in ultimate substrate,
but the proportions of substrates are more proper definitions of things. All
this counts against the priority of the ultimate substrate over the proximate
substrate, but what really clinches the point is that, later in the Metaphysics,
Aristotle argues that a simple body, that is, an ultimate substrate, is not
properly one (Z 16, 1040b810).
Perhaps it is this dismissal of the ultimate substrate that explains why the
question of a hierarchy of ones, the question that looms so large in his discussion of continuity and other ways of being one, is not pursued here. We expect
Aristotle to inquire whether the ultimate substrate is more or less one than
the proximate substrate, and we might naturally suppose that the ultimate
substrate would be more one. But the grounds for judgment become apparent
only later in the Metaphysics and elsewhere. We have now seen some reason to
reject the priority of the ultimate substrate. Seemingly in favor of proximate
substrate is Aristotles claim that matter does not exist as such in a composite
but as potential parts that can be extracted from it (Z 16, 1040b1315); since
the proximate matter is more readily extracted from the composite, it should,
we might think, be more one. However, since even the proximate matter of a
single thing will generally be manyespecially since animals, as just noted,
have at least one heterogeneous partit is no better able to account for the
unity of things than ultimate matter. Moreover, the bedrock indestructibility
that makes the sensible substrate seem a plausible source of unity comes to
be seen, later in the Metaphysics, as a concomitant of form rather than matter.
Hence, neither sensible substrate ultimately plays a decisive role in the determination of ousia that the Metaphysics struggles to attain.
It is not surprising, then, that the one in sensible substrate is not included
in I 1s presentation of the four main ways one is said. It is a candidate for
the one itself in I 2 (1053b916), albeit an unsuccessful candidate. Another
candidate, equally unsuccessful, is the genus (1053b2124). One in generic
substrate is the next one that Aristotle discusses in 6.
Closely connected with the sensible substrate is the generic substrate. Just as
a thing is said to be one because its substrate is one in respect of sensation,
something can also be said to be one because its genus is one:
All these things are said to be one because the genus, the substrate
of the differentiae, is one (for example, horse, man, and dog are one
106
something because all are animals) in the same fashion that matter is
one (1016a2528).49
The one something that horse, man, and dog are is animal, their genus. Any
doubts about this point are quickly assuaged by a glance at a parallel passage
from Aristotles discussion of whole in 26:
The universal (), and in general what is said as being some
sort of whole (), is universal in such a way that it includes many by
being predicated of each, and all are one inasmuch as each is one. For
example, man, horse, and god [are each one] because all are animals
(1023b2932).
The universal animal is predicated of each animal; and because each is one
animal, all of them collectively constitute a kind of whole, the genus of animal.50
Aristotle goes on to distinguish this type of whole, the universal, from that
constituted by different parts in proximity. When Aristotle refers to virtually
the same examplesman, horse and dogin 6 as each one something
because they are all animals, he must also mean to say that each is one animal.
That is, each is one insofar as it is a single instance of its genus.
Man and horse could refer to either a species or to individual people
or horses. Each of these is one animal, an individual instance of the genus.
Further, the genus itself is one (1016a24) in the way that the material substrate
is one (1016a2728): it signifies a single character that each one of its instances
possesses and in respect of which each of them is one. Also the genus is distinguished by contrary differentiae, just as the material substrate has, besides
its own undifferentiated form, additional qualitative characters. Thus, each
49. In the Oxford Classical Text (Aristotelis. Metaphysica [Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1973]), Werner W. Jaeger adds an to the last line so that it reads in the same
fashion as the things whose matter is one. On his reading, it is not the two
onesone by sensible substrate and one by generic substratethat resemble
each other, but the things that are one by generic substrate that resemble the
things that are one by sensible substrate. For reasons I shall explain, my interpretation of sensible substrate implies that the two ones are similar. Thus, I
think his emendation is unnecessary.
50. Aristotle thinks that a god is an animal or, as usually rendered, a living being
( 7, 1072b2832). However, a god is indestructible, and he argues in I 10 that
destructible and indestructible beings cannot belong to the same genus. So, 23s
examples cannot belong to one proper genus. As usual, though, Aristotle means to
illustrate rather than instance a claim, and the failure of these examples to belong
to a proper genus no more undermines his claim than the failure of a statue to be
a proper ousia undermines the claims about ousia he uses it to illustrate. Besides,
Aristotle introduces an extended sense of genus later; see sections 5.1.2 and 5.7.
107
thing is one animal because it has whatever character makes it an animal,

but it also has the character of some differentia of animal, and, likely, other
characters as well.
Since Aristotle speaks of man and horse as animals and calls isosceles and
equilateral triangles one and the same figure, we might suppose that one
in generic substrate is a unity that some plurality of things have when they
are the same, a two-place usage.51 I pleaded earlier (2.2) for preserving the
distinction between same and one: the former is used of two things or
of one that is treated as two (1018a79); since there could not be two unless
each were one, one should refer primarily to a single thing. Man and horse
cannot be the same in genus unless each is one in genus in its own right. In
fact, Aristotle says in the lines I have been discussing that horse, man, and
dog are one something because all are animals (1016a25). Likewise, in 26
we find an abbreviated version of the same claim, man, horse, and god [are
each one] because all are animals (1023b32), used to illustrate all are one
inasmuch as each is one (1023b31). Hence, the one-place usage of generic
substrate is well attested. Moreover, the following small differences of emphasis between these two passages support taking generic substrate as primarily
one-place: In 26 Aristotle treats the genus as a kind of whole ( )
that encompasses multiple individuals, each of which is an instance of the
genus. The emphasis is on the individual instances collectively constituting this genus. In 6, the emphasis is on the role of the genus in making its
instances one because it is one. Because of their genus, horse, man, and dog are
one something ( ), that is, one animal, as we have seen. Aristotle must
mean to say that each is one animal, rather than that they are all instances of
this one genus. The proof of this point comes in our passage a few lines later
when Aristotle claims that isosceles and equilateral are one and the same
figure because they are both triangles, but that they are not one triangle
(1016a3132). They are one and same in respect of the higher genus, but not
in respect of the closer genus. Analogously, man, horse, and dog are not one
and the same animal, though as animals, they are one and the same ousia. If,
then, he says that man, horse, and dog are one something, he must mean
that each is one something. Against this reasoning, it might be objected that
all three are indeed one animal because all are mammals. This claim fits the
pattern of isosceles and equilateral being one figure because both fall in the
genus of triangle, a genus intermediate between them and figure. Aristotle
could speak of all as one animal in this way, but it is plainly not what he is
asserting in 1016a27 because there is no reference to mammals or any hint of
51. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,137, insists on a two-place interpretation here, as he does for the other usages of one in 6. He takes Aristotle
to be considering when two things are the same.
108
an intermediate genus. In sum, one by generic substrate is primarily a oneness

of a single individual or a species: it is one-place.
Besides helping to interpret one in generic substrate, Aristotles brief discussion of a one in respect of a higher genus in this very brief passage suggests
a schema of generic substrates that parallels the schema of material substrates.
Again, isosceles and equilateral are one and same in respect of a higher,
more ultimate genus of figure, but they are not the same in respect of their
proximate genus, triangle. (Aristotle draws the distinction between proximate
and ultimate genera more explicitly at B 3, 998b1416; 999a45.) The example
points up a difference between proximate and ultimate generic substrates
that is more far-reaching than it might seem. In one way, (1) something that
is one in respect of its proximate genus will be one in respect of every higher
genera as well: Socrates is one man, one mammal, one animal, and, ultimately,
one ousia insofar as he is a single instance of each genus. In another way, (2)
it is the proximate genus that properly makes a species one: the isosceles is
one figure because there is a proximate genus, triangle, that is its substrate.
Along this line, Socrates is one mammal or one animal because he is a man,
and Socrates and Coriscus are one animal, but not one man. That is to say,
something might be one in generic substrate in respect of its proximate genus
(2), or it might be one in respect of a more ultimate genus (1). The difference is
hard to illustrate with just one thing because it will always fall somehow into
its genera. In respect of (1), a man and horse are each one animal because each
is an instance of the genus, but they are not one and the same animal. This is
the way Aristotle usually speaks. In respect of (2), man and horse are each one
animal because they each fall under one species of animal, blooded animal or
mammal, and they are one and the same animal, namely, mammal. In short,
there is a subtle difference suggested here between being one in proximate
generic substrate (2), and one in ultimate generic substrate (1). Although the
difference is easiest to see among two things, the schema applies as well to
one; indeed, it must apply to one in order to apply to both. The same thing
can be one in both respects, but the ground for each unity differs.
As thus understood, proximate and ultimate generic substrates closely
resemble the material substrates, as the passage quoted at the beginning of this
subsection suggests. This conclusion may seem to support the view, advanced
by Balme, Rorty and others, that the genus is identical with physical matter.52
52. D. M. Balme, And In Aristotles Biology, Classical Quarterly12
(1962):8198; Richard Rorty, Genus as Matter: A Reading of Metaphysics Z-H, in
Exegesis and Argument: Studies in Greek Philosophy Presented to Gregory Vlastos, ed. E.
N. Lee, A. P. D. Mourelatos, and R. M. Rorty (Assen: Van Gorcum, 1973),393420.
Neither Balme nor Rorty mentions the present passage. For a more detailed discussion of this doctrine see Halper, One and Many in Aristotles Metaphysics: The
Central Books,18184.
109
However, Aristotles insistence here that the genus is one in the same fashion that matter is one (1016a2728) implies only a similarity of one in genus
to one in sensible substrate, not an identity. The genus is the substrate of the
differentiae (1016a26), and it is predicated of instances. As such, it must be
intelligible. The sensible substrate consists of a matter whose form is indivisible to sensation; obviously, it is sensible. Hence, they are not identical.
Genus and sensible substrate are similar, though, insofar as they somehow
cause unity in a thing of which they are mere parts. However, the notion that
any part could cause unity in a whole is problematic. So far from making the
whole one, a part would seem to make it many, namely, a plurality of parts.
Furthermore, in both cases, the part that makes the whole one is some sort of
material part, rather than what Aristotle later identifies as the source of unity,
the form (cf. Z 17, 1041b79). Insofar as it is made one by its matter, what is
one in substrate (in either sense) resembles the accidental composite because
this latter, too, is made one by a material part, its ousia. If so, we can ask, why
is one in substrate not an accidental one?
Presumably, the answer is that the substrate is or is taken to be the nature
of the whole thing. This whole is presumed to be some state of the substrate;
as Thales, for example, thought water to be the nature of the all because each
thing is some compacted or expanded state of water. Likewise, the putatively
Platonic notion that one or being is the nature of each thing is an example of
what is presumed to be a generic substrate that lends its nature to a whole
thing. In contrast, the reason that a composite of ousia and attribute is not one
per se is that such a composite lacks a nature, as I argued earlier.
Even so, there is some reason to think that the inclusion of the two ones in
substrate among per se ones is provisional. I mentioned in the previous subsection
that Aristotle rejects the ultimate sensible substrates, the simple bodies, on the
ground that they are not one until they are fashioned into something (Z16,
1040b810), and that proximate sensible substrates fare no better. Similarly,
Aristotle rejects one, being, and all universal genera because they, too, fail to be
properly one (1040b1627).53 If neither sensible substrate nor genus is the nature
of the thing, then the ground for including one in substrate among the per se ones
is undermined. Again, the reason for including these substrates among the per
se ones is that they are each presumed to be a things nature. If that presumption
is undone, then they lose their claim to being per se ones.
To be more precise, it is not so much the substrates that Aristotle rejects as
the notion that a thing is one per se because of its substrate, either material or
generic. Were this so, the ultimate substrates would cause the greatest unity.
53. See my discussion of Aristotles treatment of the substrate and the genus/
universal in Halper, One and Many in Aristotles Metaphysics: The Central
Books,13843.
110
But neither sort of ultimate substrate does this. The proximate substrates of
generic and material types have a better claim to cause unity. But they cannot
cause unity by being substrates because, again, if they did, what is more of a
substrate, an ultimate substrate, would be more of a cause of unity. So Aristotle
does not reject the idea that some substrates cause unity, but the idea that they
do so by being substrates. Eventually, he shows that substrates cause unity for
other reasons. Thus, the proximate sensible substrate seems to be the shape or
form that Z 3 identifies as a candidate for ousia (1029a13), that Z 6 identifies
with essence (1031a156, 2829), and that H 6 argues is, in a way, one with the
last matter (1045b1720). The proximate genus, on the other hand, is included
somehow in the last differentia that is the things form (Z 12, 1038a1821).54 The
survival of these substrates in a new guise shows once again that Aristotle is
not dealing here with kinds of things but with definitions of some sort and,
thereby, supports the three-component analysis.
Thus, although the one by generic substrate and one by material substrate
turn out not to be most one, the things said to be one in these ways that
Aristotle explores here are important for his inquiry into ousia. Aristotles
discussion of the ways one is said in I 1 omits both substrates, though it
includes the genus under another head. However, in expounding the ways
things are one in substrate, 6 sets out accounts of unity that were important
for Aristotles predecessors and remain important for us if we are to understand
his argument and the way he refines their views of one and being.
The next type of one that Aristotle describes in 6 is indivisibility in
formula:
Further, one is said of those things whose essential formula is indivisible in respect to another [formula] that expresses the things essence55
(for in itself each formula is divisible) (1016a3235).
54. See Halper, One and Many in Aristotles Metaphysics: The Central Books, ad loc.
55. Ross and Jaeger exclude the phrase for essence ( ) from the text; so that it
is the thing rather than the essence that is made clear by the formula. Essence
is awkward here because the noun that goes with it, thing ( ), is in
the accusative case rather than the dative as we would expect (Ross, Aristotles
Metaphysics, 1:303). But in this sentence thing could be in the accusative because
it is the object of expresses ( ). Even if essence were omitted,
there would be no doubt that the formula that expresses the thing expresses
the things essence, for the formula of a thing is the formula of its essence. So the
text can get along quite well without it. On the other hand, there is some reason
for thinking that Aristotle intends to have essence in his text: it highlights the
contrast between dividing a formula into parts that still express what the thing
is and dividing it into merely verbal parts (1016a3435).
111
Aristotle illustrates these terse comments with two puzzling examples: (a)
something that grows and decays is one because its formula is one, just as (b) in
the case of plane figures, the formula of their species is one (1016a35b1).
The claim that something with an indivisible formula is one is plausible;
for the formula should express an essence, and anything with one formula
should have one essence and so be one thing. What is problematic is whether
there is anything that does not have a single essential formula. Could we not
always supply a formula that expresses somethings essence? How could
something ever fail to have an indivisible formula that expresses its essence?
Of course, someone could fail to give an indivisible definition by, for example,
repeating some parts of the definition, but this would show his incompetence
as a definer, not the things failure to be indivisible in formula.
Perhaps it is concerns like these that induce most commentators to interpret
unity in formula as the unity possessed by two or more things that share a
single formula. Another inducement for this interpretation is Aristotles claim
later in 6 that things numerically many can be one in species (1016b36); for
one in species (1016b3133) seems to be one in formula (1016a32b6).56 In
any case, the notion that one in formula is the unity possessed by many things
that share the same formula goes back at least to Alexander.57 Scholars have
tried to find this interpretation expressed in the text. Ross interprets the words
I have rendered as indivisible in respect to another [formula] (
) as indistinguishable from; he thinks two things are one in formula
if the formula of one is indistinguishable from that of the other.58 Similarly,
interpreting the same line, Kirwan supposes two things are one in formula
when their formulae are indivisible relative to each other, and this occurs
when the formulae say the same thing.59
56. For example, Ross Aristotles Metaphysics, 1:304; Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics:
Books , , and E,13940.
57. Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria,366.23.
58. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics, 1:303. In the passage that Ross cites as a parallel for
this usage of (De Anima 2, 427a26), the term seems rather to have its
usual sense. In his later Oxford translation of 1016a3234, W. D. Ross Metaphysica
2d ed., vol. 8 of The Works of Aristotle, ed. W. D. Ross (Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1972), renders in the usual way, but he somehow manages to make it
mean indistinguishable: Two things are called one, when the definition which
states the essence of one is indivisible from another definition which shows us
the other.
59. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,138. He takes as relative
to and translates the sentence as, Again, things are called one when the formula
saying what it is to be is indivisible relative to another formula (
) which indicates the actual thing. This translation and Kirwans comment
suggest that he supposes a single thing with two formulae is one in formula,
but he also includes pluralities of things with one formula under this head.
112
These are not plausible interpretations of the text. First, why would Aristotle
speak of a formulas being indivisible into another formula if what he really
meant to say were that there are two formulae that express the same character? Why would Aristotle speak of some single thing ( ) being made
clear by the formula if what he really meant were that either many things or
one character they share is made clear? The text would be inexplicably misleading if the standard interpretations were correct. Second, Aristotles first
example of one in formula is something that remains one despite growth and
decay (1016a3536), and it is easiest to understand this as a single individual
described differently at different times. Third, Aristotle declares that what is
most onefrom the context, he means one in formula (cf. I 1, 1052a2933)is
an ousia because thinking its essence does not separate it temporally or spatially (1016b23). This most one is most readily understood to be a single
individual; two individuals could be thought to be at different times and in
different places, as could one character. Since what is numerically one is what
cannot be thought separately, it is evidently this that Aristotle takes to be most
one in formula. Fourth, since Aristotle maintains that what is one in number
is also one in species (1016b3536), and since one in species is defined as one
in formula (1016b33), what is one in number, that is, a single individual, must
be one in formula. If, then, a single individual is one in formula, we need to
understand why individuals are called one in this way.
Most commentators who discuss one in formula as pertaining to several
things do not deny that an individual can be one in formula. They simply do
not discuss this case. The presumption may be that the individual is the trivial
case, whereas a plurality that is one in formula is more interesting. In my
view, this supposition underestimates both the difficulty of understanding an
individuals unity in formula and the intrinsic interest in doing so. A glance
at Aristotles examples of one in formula shows how complex the unity of an
individual is.
His first example is something that is growing and decaying. The formula
of what grows and decays is one because it is the formula of the ousia, and the
ousia persists unchanged through growth and decay. However, it is possible
to give another formula of the growing ousia, a formula of the composite. This
formula of a growing ousia would consist of two components, one expressing
the essence of the ousia, the other expressing the attribute it currently possesses or, more generally, its particular growth and development. A decaying
ousia would admit of an analogous two part formula. Later in the Metaphysics
Aristotle contends that such formulae express essences of a sort (Z 4, 1030b1213
with 1030a1718); they express essences by addition (cf. H2, 1043a1421).
However, in the strict sense, the addition of an expression for growing to
the formula of an ousia does not change the thing, the ousia, whose essence
113
is expressed. Since the formula of the composite constituted by addition

includes the formula of the ousia as a component, this formula can be divided
in respect of another formula making clear what the thing is. That is to
say, the formula of the composite contains a partnamely, the formula of
the ousiathat signifies the same thingthat is, the same ousiaas the formula of the whole composite. Thus, the composite fails to be one in formula
because its formula is divisible into another formula that expresses the same
ousia. Indeed, if this interpretation is correct, no such composite could be one
in formula. Composites are pluralities in formula because their formulae are
intrinsically divisible. Thus, Aristotles example of the growing and decaying
thing fits the context perfectly: it serves to indicate that a composite of substrate
and attributes is not one in formula, while it shows, at the same time, that the
thing that has the attributes, the ousia, is one in formula.
Is this interpretation consistent with Aristotles second example, a species
of plane figure? (Although Aristotle actually speaks of the species of planes,
he must mean plane figures [cf. 28, 1024a36b2].60) We might suppose him to
mean that, for example, two different equilateral triangles are one in formula,
but for the reasons explained, I cannot make sense of the notion that such a
formula cannot be divided. It is more plausible to understand this example
as parallel to the first: just as the ousia retains its identity despite growth and
decay, the plane figure retains its identity whether it is present in wood, bronze,
or any other matter. It is possible to supply a formula of a particular bronze
equilateral triangle. This formula would consist of two distinct components,
the formula of the equilateral triangle and the formula of the bronze in which
it inheres. Since the formula of the bronze equilateral triangle includes as a
part the formula of the equilateral triangle, the formula of the bronze equilateral triangle would be divisible into another formula that also expresses the
nature of the equilateral triangle. Thus, the bronze equilateral triangle is not
one in formula because its formula is divisible into a part that makes clear the
same thing, namely, the triangle. The equilateral triangle, however, is one in
formula or, at any rate, more one in formula than the bronze triangle.
So interpreted, the second example also fits perfectly with the context.
Together, the examples exclude two types of composites: composites of ousia
and accidental attributes, and composites of form and matter (where the form
is defined independently of the matter). Neither composite is one in formula
60. Ross, Metaphysica, ad loc., Hippocrates George Apostle, trans., Aristotles Metaphysics
(Grinnell, Iowa: Peripatetic Press, 1979), 80, and Joe Sachs, trans., Aristotles
Metaphysics (Santa Fe, NM: Green Lion Press, 1999), 85, all render it as plane
figures. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,37, renders it form in
the case of planes, but he interprets the example as two plane figures with the
same formula (p. 138).
114
as a whole, though a part of each is one in formula. Aristotles two examples

suggest that certain sorts of entities, namely, composites, must fail to be one
in formula. Nevertheless, he offers us no characterization of these composites,
nor does he commit himself here to a particular ontology: he does not mention that the substrate which grows and decays is ousia, nor does he claim that
species of plane figures are substantial forms. He may well have chosen plane
figures as an example because of the Platonic leanings of his audience, but
he uses them merely to illustrate the principle, just as he elsewhere mentions
the statue as an example of an ousia without committing himself on whether
statues really are ousiai. The text aims to show what it means to be one in
formula, not what things are one in formula.
Aristotles examples, if my interpretation is correct, make clear that a single
composite is not one in formula. This is consonant with and, indeed, helps to
explain claims elsewhere in the Metaphysics that there are definitions of composites only by addition (Z 5, 1031a13). Aristotle thinks that, although the
formulae of composites are not strictly indivisible, they do constitute a kind of
unity in a derivative sense. The really important point here is that whether a
thing is one in formula in a proper or derivative way depends on its nature.
Additional support for thinking that it is composites that Aristotle
excludes from being one in formula lies in his remarks immediately after
the two examples:
In general, things the thinking of whichthat is, the thinking that
thinks their essenceis indivisible and that it cannot separate in time,
in place, or in formula are most of all one, and of these things, especially
ousiai. For in general whatever cannot be divided, insofar as it cannot be
divided, is one in this way. If, for example, something is indivisible qua
man, it is one man; if it is indivisible qua animal, it is one animal; and if
it is indivisible qua magnitude, it is one magnitude (1016b16).
Something is indivisible in formula when the thinking of its essence is indivisible, and this thinking is indivisible if it does not divide the thing. Moreover,
the way in which or the extent to which the thing cannot be divided is the
way or extent its thought and formula cannot be divided. The things that can
be divided are composite, and, obviously, what cannot be divided is incomposite, at least insofar as it cannot be divided. Hence, the things that are one
in formula will be incomposite. Aristotle declares that things that thought
thinks in one time and place are most one: they are incomposite in respect
of time and place.
We can ask whether, incomposite in respect of time and place, they might
not be still divisible in respect of form and matter, like the plane figure of the
115
second example. The passage leaves this question open, but we can note, looking
to what is ahead in the Metaphysics, that for ousiai proximate matter is somehow
identical with form (H 6, 1045b1720). The implication of this qualified identity
is that ousia is, to this extent, indivisible into form and matter. What is more
obviously pertinent to our 6 passage is that thought grasps each instance of
a species as indivisible. Any instance will also be indivisible in respect of more
universal genera. Thus, a single man is indivisible qua man but also indivisible
qua animal; properly, a length is indivisible qua magnitude, though Aristotle
sometimes speaks, as well, of a man as indivisible qua magnitude (M3, 1078a21
28). Furthermore, the species man is itself indivisible qua man. So not only the
individual, but also the universal can be one in formula.
The individual is, though, more one in formula than the universal. We can
gather this from Aristotles claim that what thought cannot separate in time,
in place, or in formula are most of all one; for a universal can be separated in
place or time (Z 16, 1040b2527).61 For the same reason, an individual is more
one in formula than a group of individuals even though some groups like the
family or the state each have a collective formula. (Even pluralities of things
can be called one in formula, but only because each of them is itself one in
formula; and it is clear from Aristotles examples that his primary interest
lies in explaining why individual things are each one in formula.)
What we have here is a schema of things that are one in formula that
resembles the schemata of things said to be one in other ways. As in the
other schemata, there is a hierarchical ordering relation here that uses what
serves as a kind of definition, namely degree of indivisibility, to rank things
called by the term one: individual ousiai are most one because an individual
cannot be divided in time, place, or formula; a universal is less one in this
way because it can be separated in place and time, but not in formula; but
universals are more one than magnitude and other attributes in respect of
which a substrate is said to be one, for magnitude and other attributes are
divisible in formula. This schema differs from that of the one in substrate
because something said to be one in formula is one in respect of its intelligible
form, whereas something is one in substrate in respect of either the sensible
form of its matter or its intelligible (generic) matter.
Still, Aristotles characterization of what is most one in formula remains
puzzling on several counts. He claims that something is one in formula both
if the thought of its essence is indivisible and if thought cannot separate it in
time, place, or formula. (1) The characterization seems redundant; for if the
thought of the essence is indivisible, then that thought will surely not separate
61. See Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria, 366.2932; Ross, Aristotles
Metaphysics, 1:303.
116
it in formula.62 Aristotles additional characterization of one in formula through

a thought that cannot separate it [the thing] in . . . formula seems uninformative and, insofar as it explains one in formula as not separate in formula,
circular. (2) His insistence that the thought not separate the thing in time or
place is also problematic because time and place seem irrelevant to indivisibility
in formula. Why should something located at a single place and time be more
indivisible in formula than what exists in many places at different times? The
formula would not be any more divisible by the things being in one place. Why
should an individual instance of a universal be more one in formula than the
universal itself, when both universal and individual have the same formula?
(3) Why are ousiai more one than non-ousiai? Again, they do not seem to be any
more indivisible in formula than other things.
One approach to these problems is to understand the passage in question,
1016b16, to be describing a one that happens to be a combination of two other
ways one is said: things are said to be one in general when they are both
(a) one in formula and (b) one in number (that is, one in place and time).63 In
this case, Aristotle would not be saying that what thought cannot separate
in place, time, and formula are most one in formula, but, rather, that things
that are one in formula and also one in number are most one. This new one
would be a combination of one in formula and some other one.
This approach nicely solves the three problems, but it creates a new, more
serious problem. Aristotle thinks that anything that is one numerically will also
be one in formula (1016b231017a2; I 1, 1052a2931). (More on these passages
in 2.4.) But, then, the one in our passage could not be a combination of one in
formula and one in number because any numeric unity would inevitably also
be one in formula. And our passage would be describing numeric unity by
bizarrely talking about divisibility in formula. So we must reject the notion
that 1016b16 is describing a combination of two ways one is said.
This reflection does, however, suggest a solution to the first problem. It is
the individual instance of a species that Aristotle must have in mind when
he speaks of something that thought is not able to separate in place, time,
62. Cf. Some things are one in this way, insofar as they are continuous or whole;
others are one whose formula is one, and things are of this sort if the thinking of
them is one, and, again, of this latter sort if the thinking is indivisible, indivisible
in respect of form or number (I 1, 1052a2931). What does the last clause add?
If something is indivisible in thought and in formula, how could it fail to be also
indivisible in form and number?
63. See Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics, V. L.7:C 865. He mentions the
point as an example of something one in this way. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics:
Books , , and E,138, also seems to think that Aristotle is describing something
that is called one in two different ways. The passage from I 1 quoted in the
previous note supports this approach.
117
or formula. Because it is an instance of the species, it is one in formula. He

had already signaled that a species itself is one in formula by claiming that
something whose thought is indivisible is one in this way (1016b12). He then
adds that something the thought of which cannot separate it in time or place,
besidesas we should read itin formula, is one most of all. By this phrase he
identifies the instance of the species as more one in formula than the species
itself, and he goes on to explain that the instance of the species of ousia is yet
more one in formula. Hence, the claim that thought cannot separate something
in formula is not redundant because it is not intended to be read apart from
the rest of the sentence. This answers the first puzzle.
This solution makes the second problem pressing: why is the individual
more one in formula than the species? Why does not being able to divide
something in place or time make it more indivisible in formula? The species
is indivisible in formula because it can be understood with a single formula
and the formula cannot be divided. However, the species is a universal class
and, as such, can be divided into its instances. To think the species is to grasp
a form not as an individual but as a universal, a one over many; that is, as a
single character common to many individuals. So, whereas the thought of a
species could be indivisible into another speciesat least, the thought of an
ultimate species would be indivisible in this waythis thought can still be
divided in the sense that it makes clear multiple individuals that fall under
the species. It is divided because that is what a species is, a common character.
Hence, the thought of the species is undivided insofar as it is the thought of a
single nature, but divided insofar as it makes clear multiple individuals that
exist in different places and possibly at different times (cf. Z 16, 1040b2527).
Because the thought of a species is both divisible and indivisible, albeit in
different respects, the species is less one in formula than an individual in
one time and place whose thought is more strictly indivisible. As Aristotle
explains here: for in general whatever cannot be divided, insofar as it cannot
be divided, is one in this way. The individual is one in more ways than the
universal species. This seems to be the answer to the second puzzle.
The third puzzle is why ousiai are most one even among the group of things
whose thought is one and not separate in time, place, or formula. Aristotle
neither supports nor explains this claim, but one of his two examples, the
growing and decaying thing, is an ousia, whereas the other, the species of
plane figure, is a magnitude (1016b46). At first glance, an individual ousia
does not seem more indivisible in formula than a magnitude. To be sure, any
magnitude is divisible in itself, but the formula of an individual equilateral
triangle cannot be divided into another formula that also makes clear this
triangle. Why, then, is ousia more one in formula? One answer is that Aristotle
holds that the formula of a magnitude or an instance of any category besides
118
ousia contains ousia (Z 1, 1028a3236). Presumably, the reason is that each of

these beings depends upon ousia, and a complete account of what it is should
include this relation. Another possible answer is that, at this point in the
inquiry, ousia has not yet been determined, and Aristotle is simply characterizing it: whatever turns out to be most one in formula will be ousia. In the
central books Aristotle actually uses this criterion to determine what ousia is,
and there he argues that universals are not ousiai because they lack the proper
sort of unity (Z 1316; cf. B 4, 999b1923). If this second suggestion is right, the
present passage asserts that ousia is most one in formula not because of what
it is to be one in this way but because of what it is to be ousia.
An interesting feature of Aristotles discussion of one in formula is its use
of negation to characterize this type of unity: a thing is said to be one if it is
not divisible into something with the same formula, and if its thought cannot
be separated in place, time, or formula. This leaves open the possibility for
entities without place or time to be one in formula; for the thought of them
could not separate them by place or time. Hence, an unmoved mover can
be one in formula, and so too can the form of a sensible thing. Conversely,
Aristotles description of one in formula suggests that there is nothing more
to being an individual than being a single instance of a formula. An unmoved
mover or even a form, as long as it is not a universal, might qualify. This is
not to suggest that 6 aims to call either one in formula. Rather, Aristotle
simply describes one in formula in such a way that it can be used to discuss
being and ousia. At issue in this passage is not what entities are most one but
what makes them one, the way they are indivisible; in other words, the concern here is not which things are one, but in respect of which definition things
are one and how the definition generates schematic division among what is
more and less one.
Thus far, 6 has discussed accidental ones and three or four schemata of per
se ones: one by continuity, sensible substrate, generic substrate, and one in
formula. Each of these is itself a schema comprising multiple headings, some of
which are more one than others. At this point in the text (1016b611), Aristotle
offers what appears to be a summary of his previous discussion. Since it cannot
be translated without some interpretation, I begin with the Greek text:

, ,
.
.
119
Clearly, the difference between most things ( ) said to be one

and the things said to be one primarily () is the difference between
secondary and primary ones. Also, the primary ones, the things whose
ousia is oneone by continuity, by form, or by formula, correspond to the
three per se ones previously discussed, one by continuity, one in substrate,
one in formula.64 Sensible and generic substrate have been grouped together
here, as they are elsewhere (1017a36). Aristotle terms them unity by form
because things are one in substrate when the form of either their physical
(1016a1819) or logical (1016a2528) matter is one. Significantly, there are
three distinct, primary ones. Aristotle does not explain how they are related
to each other, but it is important to notice that there is no hint that there
is a single primary one to which all ones are related, as there is a primary
being to which all beings are related; that is, there is no indication here that
one is pros hen (cf. 2, 1003a3334). Moreover, the three primary ones are
not coextensive; for the line is one by continuity and one in formula, but
not one in substrate.
What is also interesting for us here is Aristotles claim that a thing is one
primarily when its ousia is oneone by continuity, form, or formula. Why
does Aristotle now speak of a things ousia as one when he has, up until this
passage, referred to the thing as one? Ousia could not have a consistent
reference here; for if the ousia of a thing were its essence, it could not be
one by continuity because the essence cannot move. If, on the other hand, the
ousia of a thing is its substrate, it could not be one in formula because the
substrate is not one in formula, as we saw in the preceding subsection.65 It is
more likely that Aristotle speaks about things whose ousia is one to indicate that the thing is called one in respect of its nature or, rather, in respect
of what is taken to be its nature, and not accidentally. In a parallel passage
elsewhere, he contrasts quantity in respect of ousia with accidental quantity:
a line is a quantity in respect of its ousia because quantity appears in the formula of what the line is, whereas the musical is a quantity accidentally ( 13,
1020a1519). Here ousia indicates what makes the line be a line, the formula
of what it is. In other cases, a substrate or a motion seem to be what makes a
thing what it is. Thus, ousia here seems to be a mere placeholder for whatever
64. This is the way the passage is understood by Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics,
1:304; Albert Schwegler, trans. and ed., Die Metaphysik des Aristoteles: Grundtext,
bersetzung und Commentar (Frankfurt am Main: Minerva, 1960; rpt. of 184748
ed.),3: 209; and Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,138.
65. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,138, proposes that ousia is used
in three different ways, the three ways described at H 1, 1042a315, composite,
matter, and form. This is possible, but it is ad hoc and is not readily connected
with the distinctions Aristotle makes in 6.
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it is that makes a thing be what it is. Since whatever makes it be also makes it
be one (cf. Z 17, 1041b79), and since the cause of unity is itself one, the ousia
of something should be one. In other words, Aristotles claim that the ousia
of a thing is one (in some per se way) is true because whatever ousia is, it must
be one. (Conversely, whatever is essentially one within a thing is, or is a good
candidate for, its ousia.66)
Most ( ) ones are not primary, but secondary, and the passage
under consideration indicates several reasons why they are called one. How
to interpret the text is unclear. Rosss Oxford translation of the entire passage
is as follows:
Now most things are called one because they either make or have or
suffer or are related to something else that is one, but the things that
are primarily one are those whose substance is oneand one either in
continuity or in form or in definition; for we count as more than one
either things that are not continuous, or those whose form is not one, or
those whose definition is not one.67
An alternative way to translate the passage is to take what this translation understands as the object of the verbs ( ) as the subject of
theverbs:
Most things are called one because (1) something else makes [them] one
or because (2) something else has or suffers them or because (3) something else is related to one thing; but what is primarily one is something
whose ousia is oneeither one by continuity, by form, or by formula; for
we count as many the things that are not continuous, whatever does not
have one form, or whatever has a formula that is not one.
In order to judge the relative merits of these translations, we need to decide
what Aristotle intends to indicate by his descriptions of secondary ones.
Three accounts are advanced in the literature: (1) accidental composites, that
is, the accidental ones discussed in the opening of 6; 68 (2) instances of the
accidental categories (in contrast with the category of ousia which contains
66. I shall explore the connection between being a principle and being one in Chapter
3s treatment of book A. On the assumption that ousia is one, see Halper, One and
Many in Aristotles Metaphysics: The Central Books,2021, 196200, et al.
67. Apostle and Kirwan translate similarly.
68. This is the view of Schwegler, Die Metaphysik,3: 2056.
121
primary ones); 69 (3) a group of accidental ones not previously mentioned.70

I shall argue against all three and in support of a fourth view; namely, the
primary ones are the primary instances of the three schemata of per se ones,
and the secondary ones are the other instances of these same schemata. Let
us consider these interpretations in turn.
(1) The accidental ones discussed at the beginning of 6 are composites of
ousia and attributes, composites that were made one by the substrate ousia. The
problem here is that, on Rosss translation, only a part of the passage could be
referring to accidental composites: the composites would be one because they
have what is one, namely, a substrate ousia that is one. Even this would be an
unusual use of have and, therefore, unlikely; for hav[ing] . . . something...
one would normally indicate that a substrate has an attribute that is one. But
perhaps Aristotle reserves suffer . . . one for this latter relation of attribute to
ousia. Even so the other two options mentioned in the passage, make one and
related to one cannot be understood as accidental composites on Rosss translation. However, since conjunctions of attributes are composites (1015b2122), my
translation would include them as secondary ones that something else, namely,
the substrate, makes one. Alternatively, white and musical are one because
something has or suffers them. An accidental composite would be one because
something is related to what is one, that is, the accident is related to an ousia.
This last requires that attributes be understood as related to an ousia, a usage
that is possible. Hence, the first interpretation is possible with my translation,
but the passage is hardly a perspicuous way to propound it.
(2) If accidental composites are not the secondary ones, it is reasonable to
suppose that accidents are. They are related to one thing (Rosss translation)
or something else has them (my translation). But, again, only some of the
secondary ones that the passage describes could be accidental categories. The
passage must refer to more than just the accidents.
In defense of the second interpretation it might be proposed that the
passages references to doing, having, and suffering are themselves supposed to indicate the categories. But if this were so, it would be inexplicable
why Aristotle left out other, more important categories, such as quality and
quantity. So much for this defense.
Still another problem with the second interpretation is that it implies that
all instances of accidental categories are secondary ones. This would mean
69. See Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics, V. L.8:C 86869.
70. This seems to be Alexanders view, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria, 367.1317,
and it is endorsed by Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics, 1:303.
122
that a line is only secondarily one, for a line is an instance of the category of
quantity (Cat. 6, 4b23). But the line is continuous by definition. Its ousia is one
by continuity. So at least some instances of categories other than ousia belong
among primary ones. The second interpretation cannot be right.
(3) The popularity of the third interpretation may be due to the interesting
examples Alexander supplies to support and illustrate it: honey is one with
honey because both do one thing ( ), they cause us to taste the sweet;
a musician is one with a musician, and a white man is one with a white man
because both have the same thing ( ); things that are heated are
one because they suffer one thing ( ); and things
on the right side of the world are one because they are related to something
one ( ).71
All these are accidental ones; but, unlike the accidental composites mentioned at the beginning of 6 which owe their unity to an ousia, Alexanders
examples are one because an attribute is one. That is to say, whereas in
Aristotles earlier example a musical man is one with a just man because their
substrate is one, in Alexanders example two musical men are one because
of the attribute, musical, present in both. Since a plurality can be one only if
each individual in it is one, both interpretations (1 and 3) are committed to
each accidental composites being one. The issue between them is whether an
accidental composite is one because of its substrate or because of its attribute; is
a musical man, for example, one because of man or because of musical? There
are at least three reasons for thinking that it is the attribute. First, later in the
Metaphysics Aristotle does speak of attributes as causes in composites. At H 2,
1043a27, Aristotle declares that attributes are analogous to ousiai in causing
being (and, thus, unity). Second, he describes a kind of unity, likeness, that
can be ascribed to a plurality in virtue of a common attribute (I 3, 1054b314).
Finally, even the present passage would seem to support Alexanders interpretation, for Aristotle claims that primary ones are things whose ousia is one
(1016b89). If a primary one is one in ousia, it is reasonable to suppose that
secondary ones are one through their attributes.
Although Alexanders interpretation is possible, it is unlikely. Aristotle
presents 1016b611 to us as a summary of what he had said before; it is clear, at
least, that the primary ones are those that Aristotle identifies earlier in 6. The
secondary ones should have appeared before, but on Alexanders interpretation,
the passage would introduce secondary ones not yet mentioned in the chapter.
These secondary ones would, moreover, owe their unity to their attributes. As
I said, Aristotle does sometimes identify an attribute as the cause of unity; it is
71. Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria, 367.1321.
123
position, for example, that makes wood be a threshold. But his point there is that
an attribute functions in artifacts as form does in ousiai. Because such examples
are taken to be ousiai in some derivative sense, they are of no help in understanding how the accident makes an accidental composite one. About this crucial issue
Alexander says nothing, possibly because he takes the passage to be asserting
sameness and ignores Aristotles assumption that sameness presupposes unity.
Indeed, it is clear that the passage Alexander is interpreting aims to illustrate the
ways in which secondary ones are one; yet it is just this that his interpretation
ignores. Furthermore, Aristotle makes clear at the beginning of 6 that ousia is
the source of unity in the accidental composite (1015b2023, b3034).
In short, there are arguments against all three interpretations. Let me propose
as an alternative that the secondary ones Aristotle indicates here include the per
se ones that are not primary in each schema. As we saw, in each schema Aristotle
aims to establish that some instances are prior to the others. These others are,
thus, secondary ones. My interpretation is not compatible with the standard translation, but I have also mentioned an alternative translation that is, on linguistic
grounds, equally likely. The relevant difference in the translation is whether
something is one because it makes, has, suffers, or is related to something
one, or, on the alternative version I offer, because something else [1] makes, [2]
has, suffers, or [3] is related to one. [1] The central distinction in the discussion
of continuity was: continuous by nature and continuous by art. The latter are
continuous because of something else, an agent. Thus, what is continuous by art
is one because something else makes it continuous. The agent is a nature and,
thus, continuous by nature; that is, the agent is itself one. [2] The central distinction in the discussion of the substrate was between the proximate and ultimate
substrates. Something that is one in substrate is one because something else [the
substrate] has or suffers it. In the case of the proximate substrate, there is still
another thing, the ultimate substrate, that has or suffers it. Thus, wine or oil is
one because its sensible substrate suffers or experiences a further determination.
To mention the other substrate, a triangle is one plane figure because its genus,
plane figure, has a differentia (1016a26). All these are one because something
else, the substrate, has or suffers them. They stand in contrast to the simple body,
that is, the ultimate sensible substrate itself, and to the highest genus. Each of
these latter has its own independent existenceat least according to the ways
one is commonly saidand is one by its own form; hence, its ousia is one. [3]
Among things that are one in formula, Aristotle distinguishes what is indivisible
in place, time, and formula, such as an individual ousia, from what is divisible
in these ways; such as, a universal and the composite of ousia and attribute. The
composite is one because something else, some attribute, is related to an ousia that
is one. A universal, such as animal, is one in formula just to the extent that the
thought of it is indivisible into something else that makes clear the same thing.
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This thought in the case of animal is the capacity for motion or sensation, and it
marks an individual animal as an instance of this universal. If, as Aristotle claims,
the individual ousia is more one in formula, then the universal derives its unity
from its relation to it; for example, the universal animal from being predicated
of an individual animal.72 Hence, the formula of the universal expresses one
thing, but it is a thing that is one by virtue of its relation to something else that
is one, the individual. This individual is one because the formula that makes
clear its ousia is indivisible. Thus, it belongs among the primary ones, whereas
universal and composite are secondary ones.
In sum, the secondary ones are the secondary instances of the three or four
per se kinds of one that Aristotle sketched earlier in 6, and the primary ones
consist of the primary instance of each per se one, that is, the primary one in
continuity, one in form (of the substrate), and one in formula (1016b89). To
judge by the secondary ones Aristotle mentions, the primary instances are
the continuous by nature, the ultimate substrate, and the individual ousia. The
two ones in substrate, sensible and generic, are combined in the summary,
and Aristotle probably identifies the ultimate substrate as the primary one
because it alone has a form that is not many (1016b910). Again, that this is
not his ultimate, considered view should not concern us because 6 aims to
catalogue all the ones, and all have some legitimacy. Those per se ones that
are not most one, are, to that extent, many.
Although there is probably not sufficient evidence to advance this interpretation with complete confidence, it is consistent with the text and fares no
worse than any of the others proposed. In its favor is the fact that it is based
upon the results of the earlier discussion in a way that other interpretations
are not. Further, my interpretation shows how the secondary ones are one
through their dependence on primary ones: Something that is continuous by
nature is at once an example of a primary one and also an example of an agent
that could make something else continuous. An ultimate substrate is, in itself,
another type of primary one; and by having or suffering some determination,
it is the cause of a composites being one. Finally, an ousia is one in formula;
and by somethings being said of it (or as Aristotle puts it here, in relation to
it), the individual ousia is the source of unity for its universal genus. On my
interpretation, the passage is a systematic and appropriate summary whose
particular details subtly reflect important distinctions.
In any case, the most important feature of the present passage does not
depend on my interpretation of primary and secondary ones. It is the threefold characterization of primary ones. Things that are one by continuity,
72. Aristotle often uses the preposition to express the relation of one universal
to that of which it is predicated: Prior Analytics: A 6, 28a1517; b57; 4, 26a17; 5,
26a2630; 25 42a910.
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things that are one by substrate, and things that are one in formula are all
included among primary ones. It is possible that the same thing be one in
different ways; an ousia, for instance, could be one by continuity and one in
formula. Likewise, a circle is one by continuity, one as a whole, and one in
formula. But Aristotle also insists that a circle has a matter distinct from its
form (Z11, 1036b321037a5); so it is not the same thing that makes it one in all
ways. Further, as I noted earlier, it is possible for something to be a primary
one in one way but not in the others; thus, the ousia of a line is one by continuity, but not one in substrate. If my account is correct, the line is a primary one
because it is among what is most one by continuity, but it is only a secondary
one in the schema of one in formula. Hence, the three primary ones cannot
be identified. Although the passage under discussion looks like an assertion
of the pros hen character of one, it does not relate all ones to a single primary
nature. There are, apparently, three distinct primary ones. Since being is pros
hen (1003a3334), one must differ significantly from being.
2.2.7 The Whole (1016b1117)
Surprisingly, Aristotles summary does not conclude the analysis of things
said to be one. The text presents still another type of one, the whole:
Further, in a way we call one whatever is a quantity and continuous,
but in another way we do not call it one unless it is something whole,
that is, unless it has one form () (1016b1113).
Aristotle offers two examples: we would call a shoe one, not when its parts are
merely continuously connected, but when they are assembled into a form that
is visibly one; and the circle is most one because it is whole and complete.
The example of the shoe shows that the whole must have both characters,
continuity and form. Thus, the whole is both one by continuity and also one in
form. One form could describe two schemata of onesone in substrate and
one in formuladepending on whether form refers to the underlying substrate,
that is, the genus or sensible substrate, or to what is expressed by the formula,
the essence. (The form of human being, for example, could be the human shape,
the genus animal, or the human essence.) However, since Aristotle speaks of a
visible unity (1016b1315), form here must be the sensible substrate, just as it
is in the preceding lines (1016a19; b9; b10).73 So the whole is one in sensible substrate and one by continuity. Supporting this conclusion is that, in the parallel
73. Without offering a reason or an alternative, Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books
, , and E,139, denies that the form possessed by the whole is the form of the
sensible substrate.
126
discussion in I 1, Aristotle introduces the whole as something both continuous

and possessing form (1052a2225) and contrasts it with indivisibility in essential
formula (1052a2931; a36b1). Since the whole is not one in formula, the two
ways it is one must be one in continuity and one in substrate, and it is clearly
sensible substrate that Aristotle means.
As wholes, both the shoe and the circle are continuous and one in substrate,
but Aristotle claims that a haphazardly assembled shoe would lack a form and
so fail to be a whole. This is problematic because such a shoe must have some
visible shape, just as a correctly assembled shoe does.74 A solution is suggested
by the discussion of whole later in book . There Aristotle distinguishes between
a whole and an all (): of quantities having a beginning, middle, and
end, one where position makes no difference is called an all, one where it does
is a whole ( 26, 1024a13). Aristotles examples of an all are water and other
liquids (1024a67).75 These liquids take on the position of whatever contains them;
their position can be altered, but the change does not affect what the liquid is. In
contrast, the positions of the parts of the shoe do make a difference; if they are
altered, we no longer have a shoe. To the objection that even the misassembled
shoe has some form, we could say that, in the misassembled shoe, position
makes no difference because if we rearrange its parts, that is, if we change the
positions of its parts, we have the same thing, a misassembled shoe. The misassembled shoe is an all, the properly assembled shoe a whole.
There are at least three other responses to the claim that a misassembled
shoe does have a shape or form. First, in order to have a form, that is, a sensible
74. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,139, raises this problem.
75. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,176, is puzzled by Aristotles
reference to things, such as wax and cloaks, as both wholes and alls on the ground
that they have natures that survive changes in position even though their forms
() do not ( 26, 1024a35). He thinks that Aristotles treatment of the whole in
6 implies that nothing whose nature survives transposition could be a whole.
I think the two passages are consistent. Aristotles point in 26 is that bending
the wax or folding the cloak changes its position but not its nature. Indeed, the
nature of wax and clothing is to be bendable, and in this sense form or position
does not belong to their natures. Hence, they count as alls. But the cloak has parts
that stand in relation to each other, and even when the cloak is folded, these parts
retain their shape in respect of each other. Similarly, Aristotle may be thinking
of a wax statue that can be bent without altering the approximate relations of the
parts to each other; but the wax by itself has a sensible form. Hence, both could
count as wholes. The form that 6 attaches to the whole is the form of the
substrate; in this case, the character of the wax as (unformed) wax or the shape
and arrangement of the pieces of cloth in the cloak count as the substrate form.
The important point is that to be a whole, something need not have a rigid shape
but must have a character that makes it indivisible to sensation and capable of
moving together. Wax and cloak meet this criterion.
127
form, a thing must be identifiable, but the misassembled shoe is more likely
to be a heap than anything identifiable. We would find it hard to describe and
would be unable to pick out something with the same shape or to reproduce
the shape. Second, we perceive the shape of the misassembled shoe as a plurality of parts, whereas the properly assembled shoe has a single form that
unifies the parts. As a plurality, the misassembled shoe has no nature or form.
Third, with its parts properly conjoined, the shoe is the substrate for a variety
of attributes, whereas the misassembled shoe lacks a nature that can function
as a substrate for collective attributes other than the most primitive. Just as
the attributes of a heap belong primarily to individual things in the heap, the
attributes of a misassembled shoe are primarily attributes of its parts.
On the other hand, this solution raises a new problem for my account of
the whole as a combination of one by continuity and one by substrate. If the
liquids form persists despite the positions of its parts being altered, why
does the shoes substrate form not persist when the positions of its parts are
altered? After all, the shoe remains leather even if its parts are repositioned.
Conversely, if the shoe does lose its form when its parts are changed, why does
water not lose its form when its parts are moved? The short answer is that
the pertinent form differs in different kinds of things. For liquids, the form
may be its flowing and taking on the shape of a container; for shoes, form or,
at least, the proximate form lies in the relative positions of its parts. This is
what Aristotle means when he claims that the liquid is an all, and the shoe is
a whole. For an all to lack a form is not for it to lack shape; it always lacks an
inner principle that accounts for its shape. A shoe that is misassembled is not
an all because its parts are not homogeneous; changing their relative positions
results in a different sort of misshapen shoe. But neither is the misshapen shoe
a whole, as I said. It is, I think, a privation, a distinct ontic designation. It lacks
the form that would make it a shoe. It also lacks the sort of continuity that it
would have as a shoe; for, misshapen, it cannot move in the way that the shoe
does, or it lacks some of the shoes motions, or it does not perform them as
well. Insofar as its parts are connected, the misshapen shoe can move all at
once and is, therefore, continuous in some sense, but the continuity that would
make the shoe parts move together as a shoe would come from their having
the form of the shoe. Apparently, a whole must not only be one in sensible
substrate and one by continuity, but the movement that it has as continuous
should belong to it in virtue of the form of its substrate.
This conclusion allows us to explain why Aristotle considers only the
combination of ones that constitutes the whole and ignores other possible
combinations of per se ones. The reason is that no other combination of per
se ones could itself be a single way of being one. To be sure, many things
are one per se in more than one way; some, such as human beings, are one
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in all three per se ways. But to be one in different ways is not to have a type
of unity that is a combination of different ways of being one. The obstacle
to other combinations is that whereas things are one in sensible substrate or
one by continuity in virtue of their matter, they are one in formula by virtue
of their forms or essences (1016a33). Hence, of the three per se ones, only
the two material ones admit of combination. It is because a thing can have
a single sensible substrate that causes it to move all at once that its matter
can be responsible for its being one in substrate and one by continuity. One
sign of the real confluence of these material ones is the conjunction of what
is most one in each way. In 26, Aristotle distinguishes between what is
whole by nature and whole by art (or by force) and claims that the former
is most whole (1023b3436; cf. I 1, 1052a2325). Since a nature is an internal
principle of motion, and indivisibility in motion is a mark of continuity, the
whole by nature is also continuous. It is not only more whole than what is
whole by art, but also more continuous. Here in book , Aristotle identifies
the circle as the line that is most one because it is (1016b1617), but later he
claims that the thing that moves itself in a circle is a primary one in respect
of magnitude (I 1, 1052a2528). That is to say, what is most whole and continuous is the thing that moves, by nature, in a circle. Here wholeness and
continuity belong to a thing in respect of the same circular motion, and
clearly only something material could be one in both ways. In contrast, what
is most one in formula are ousiai without matter. There is a fundamental
and unbridgeable gulf between the material ones and the formal ones: the
same thing could not be most one in formula and also most one in respect
of continuity and sensible substrate. Hence, only the two material per se
ones can be combined. Of course, something could be one as a whole and
also one in formula, but these remain distinct types of unity. No per se one
beside the whole could derive from multiple per se ones.
The one in generic substrate looks to be an exception since it is a kind of
material. We might wonder whether it could combine with other per se ones.
Individual dogs and people are one in respect of their genus, animal; and
Aristotle also recognizes an animal as one in formula (1016b6). So something
can be one in both ways, but the genus, unlike the sensible substrate, belongs
to a things form. The same form can be one in genus and one in formula,
though Aristotle does not explain how until Z 12. Importantly, though, it is
the form that is one in genus and formula. One in generic substrate is a formal
unity. Thus, it does not show that formal and material ones can combine into
a unity that is more than a conjunction.
That the gulf between material and formal ones cannot be bridged has
profound consequences for the Metaphysics. This is the reason that the treatment of the highest ones is not a treatment of all ones and all beings, and it
129
is the basis of a wedge between being and one and the identification of the
former as the proper subject of metaphysics.
A word about Aristotles discussion of whole in I 1: it differs slightly from
his account in 6. In I 1 he distinguishes wholes by nature from wholes
by force (that is, by art)a division he uses in 6 to distinguish schemata of one by continuity. I 1 is explicit that what is whole by nature has an
internal principle of its own continuity, and Aristotle describes such a thing
as having a motion that is indivisible in time andhe adds herein place
(1052a2526). As just noted, I 1 claims that the primary whole is something
with circular motion, clearly a reference to the motion of the heavenly spheres;
in 6 the primary whole is the circular line. Both the circle and the circular
motion are magnitudes that are one by continuity.76 The difference is that
the circular motion belongs to specific ousiai, whereas the circle is the line or
magnitude of its path.
Nearly the same divisions of things said to be one appear in other passages that discuss one. In Physics A 2, Aristotle refutes Parmenides claim
that all is one by examining the different ways one is said. The claim is
ambiguous because one is said in many ways, but Aristotle argues that it
is false no matter how it is interpreted. He distinguishes three ones: (1) the
continuous, (2) the indivisible, and (3) that whose formula is one and the same
(185b79). These are the three per se ones of 6; even their order is the same
here. Only in the case of (2) might there be doubt about this, but Aristotles
argument against all is indivisible makes clear that indivisible here refers
to unity in substrate. His reasoning is very terse: if all is one because all
things are indivisible, then there would be no quantity or quality (185b1618).
I reconstruct his argument as follows: Suppose that all things were indivisible. Any attribute predicated of all things is itself a thing. But if all things
are indivisible, then we cannot distinguish the attribute from that of which
it is predicated. Predication is, then, impossible. Hence, if Parmenides and
Melissus say that all things are one because they are indivisible, these
Eleatics contradict themselves by predicating limit, unlimited, and, indeed,
one of all things. If all things were indivisible, they would constitute a kind
76. Leo Elders, Aristotles Theory of the One: A Commentary on Book X of the Metaphysics,
Wijsgerige Teksten en Studies (Assen: Van Gorcum, 1961),6162, claims that in
I 1 the whole differs from the continuous in that it excludes what continuous
includes, mathematical continua. He cites M 2, 1077a3233. My point here is that
I 1s brief discussion of continuity (1052a1921) is about ousiai rather than quantities. More on this theme in the next section.
130
of substrate, but a substrate thatbecause it included all thingswould not

admit of predicates. If this interpretation is correct, the second interpretation
of one is indeed one in substrate, and the three ones of Physics A 2 are just
the three per se ones of Metaphysics 6. The former chapter adds nothing new
to the fuller treatment in the latter.
Metaphysics I 1 also covers some of the same ground as 6, but it does add
something, a systematic organization of the ones. Here Aristotle groups the per
se ones under four main heads: the continuous, the whole, the individual, and
the universal. The first two are indivisible in motion; the last two are indivisible in thought or formula (1052a34b1). Since only what has matter can be
in motion, the first two heads are material ones; the latter two are formal or
essential. This distinction helps us to see how the per se ones of 6 have been
transformed in I 1. 6s one in formula is in I 1 split into two of the main
heads, individual and universal, both of which Aristotle classes as indivisible
in thought and formula. Individual and universal appeared implicitly in 6
as divisions of one in formula, as we saw. So individual and universal have
been elevated in I 1 from instances of one in formula to main heads. On the
other hand, 6s two material ones, one by continuity and one in substrate, as
well as their combination, the whole, have been reduced to two in I 1, one by
continuity and whole. Although it is implicit in whole, one in substrate does
not appear as a separate head in I 1.77 Why not?
It might be thought that I 1 redistributes one in substrate to other heads,
one in sensible substrate to whole and one in generic substrate to universal.78
But some sensible substrata, like water, are not wholes (cf. 26, 1024a68),
and some generic substrata, like the summa genera, might not fall under what
I 1 terms universal. The problem in the latter case is that I 1 understands
the universal to have one formula (1052a2930), but a highest genus, lacking
a still higher genus under which it falls, has no formula. Hence, I 1 is not
simply redistributing under other heads 6s one in substrate; some of what
falls under the latter is simply omitted here.
77. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:301; Stokes, One and Many,18.
Elders, Aristotles Theory of the One, 5960, notices that I 1 omits to consider
one by genus. He suggests that Aristotles understanding of the genus-concept
developed so that by the time he wrote I 1 he no longer regarded the genus as
one. However, Aristotles references later in book I to what is the same by genus
(e.g., 3, 1055a12) show that Aristotle continues to regard the genus as one. Elders
also maintains that one in substrate is an early notion to which Aristotle did not
return (p. 64). But the discussion in 6 does not endorse the existence of a single
substrate; it describes this as a particular way things are said to be one, and
Ionian philosophers apparently did speak of things as one in this way. In general,
we need not assume that book endorses the ones it catalogues.
78. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 2:281, identifies generic substrate with the universal.
131
The reason for this omission is, as I suggested earlier, philosophical: I 1

reflects the results of the central books. The things that are one in sensible
substrate but not whole are the simple bodies: earth, fire, air, and water. At
Z16, 1040b810 Aristotle denies that these are one; they are mere heaps until
something comes to be made out of them. Likewise, Z 1316 reject one, being,
and other universals as ousiai on the ground, I argue, that they are not properly
one or the ousia of one thing (cf. 1040b1619).79 Although such sensible and
generic substrata are called one, they are not properly so called and, thus,
do not belong under I 1s main heads.
Interestingly, Aristotle notes in I 1 that the primary one (in formula) is the
cause of unity to ousiai (1052a3334). In Z 17 he had argued that form or essence
is primary ousia because it causes unity to sensible ousiai (1041a2630; b711). As
the cause of unity, the form of an ousia is itself most one; it is also most knowable.
In general, I 1 shifts the focus from the way one is said of a being to the way
it is said of ousia. Thus, whereas in 6 Aristotle mentions lines as continuous
(1015b361016a2) and declares the circle to be most one among lines because it
is whole and complete (1016b1617), book I discusses things that are bound and
things that have circular motions. As material ones, continuity and whole properly belong to sensible ousiai. However, I 1 has much to say about the quantitative
measures of ousiai, and I 2 locates qualitative ones in every categorial genus.
To conclude, I 1 offers a more systematic treatment of ones than 6. Although
it reflects some of the conclusions argued in the central books, it does not differ substantially from 6.

Aristotles discussions of the ways one is said are parallel to his discussions
of the ways other terms are said. But his treatment of one contains two additional components. Besides sketching the things said to be one, Aristotle
considers the essence of one ( ) and what I shall call the series of
ones. In I 1, at 1052b13, he contrasts the question, what sort of things are
said to be one? with a different question, what is the essence of the one
and what is its formula? Whereas the former question seeks things that fall
under the four main heads, the latter could be answered by referring either
to a thing that falls under one of the heads or to something that is closer to a
name (1052b37). This distinction is significant. Just as the essence of animal
is a nature possessed by each animal, we might expect the essence of one to be
some nature possessed by everything that is one. The nature of each animal
79. Halper, One and Many in Aristotles Metaphysics: The Central Books,14043.
132
is, perhaps, its capacity for sensation and locomotion; but what is one has no
generic nature (cf. B 3, 998b2227). The present passage (1052b17) makes clear
that there is no single nature possessed by everything that is one: because
the essence of one could be any of the four heads, it is clear that there is no
one nature shared by all four or, therefore, by everything that is one. This lack
of a common nature explains why the essence of one could also be closer
to a name. Again, the four main heads have no thing or character in commonprecisely the conclusion to which my discussion of them led. Hence,
what is common to all ones can only be a name or verbal formula.
Aristotle gives much the same verbal formula of the essence of one in 6
(1016b1723) and I 1 (1052b1624). The main problem with both passages is
that they provide three distinct descriptions: to be one is (1) to be the principle
of number (1016b18; 1052b2324); 80 (2) to be the first measure of a genus, that
by which a genus is known (1016b1820; 1052b1819); and (3) to be indivisible
(or undivided) (1016b2324; 1052b16). I 1 lists the same descriptions in reverse order.
In both passages the reason that one is (1) the principle of number is that
one is the measure through which number is known (1052b2023; 1016b1820).
Elsewhere, Aristotle explains that one is a principle of number in two ways: it
is the unit (and thus the matter) of which other numbers are composed, and
it is the form and ousia of each number (M 8, 1084b1830; cf. H 3, 1044a25;
Topics A 18, 108b26, b30; Z 4, 141b68). In neither case is to be the principle
of number itself a nature: to be a unit is to be quantitatively indivisible and
without position (1016b1920); to be the form of a number is to be the nature
that makes that number what it is, and this nature obviously differs in different numbers. Hence, to be the principle of number is not to be something
but to be a function that something, that is, some nature, could have. Indeed,
sometimes Aristotle speaks of the one that measures a plurality as a particular instance of a genus in respect of which other instances of the genus
are counted (N 1, 1088a414). Likewise, (2) to be the principle of knowledge
is not to be some single nature or thing, for Aristotle declares that one is the
principle of knowledge of each genus by measuring that genus and that the
one is not the same in all genera (1016b1921). The principle of knowledge of
a genus is something peculiar to that genus; it is either an individual species of
the genus or an individual instance of the genus. Both measure the genus. A
primary species is a qualitative measure (I 2, 1053b281054a9); an individual
80. There is some question about how to interpret 1016b18. Because it is similar to what
we find at I 1, 1052b2324, I follow the interpretation of Schwegler, Die Metaphysik,3:
210, and Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:304. This is also Kirwans view, Aristotles
Metaphysics: Books , , and E, 139. In contrast, Jaeger, in the OCT, emends the
passage to read: to be one is the principle of the being of some number.
133
instance can function as a quantitative measure (1053b47). Other instances of

the genus can be known through these measures. Finally, as we have already
seen, (3) indivisibility is not a single nature. It, too, is a character or function
that natures have. Aristotle explains that things can be indivisible in respect
of place, time, thought, and so forth. Obviously, indivisibility is quite different
in these cases. What is common is only an analogical similarity. It follows that,
in speaking of one as the principle of number, the principle of knowledge in
a genus, and indivisibility, Aristotle does not refer to some single entity, but
to functions or characters that things have because they are each one. Other
texts bear out this conclusion.81
There is still another function that Aristotle sometimes ascribes to what is
one, to be the principle of contrariety.82 This function does not seem to play
a role in Aristotles discussion of the essence of one, but it may be identical
with one of the other three and, in any case, it is important elsewhere in its
own right, as we will see.
Why, then, does Aristotle include the three functions in his discussion of the
essence of one? Which of them is the essence, or what holds all three together
in a single essence? Since answering these questions requires a thorough consideration of the essence of one, this is not the place to tackle them. It is more
appropriate here to consider the three functions further. Why does Aristotle
maintain that anything one is indivisible, that some one thing is the principle
of number, and that something one is the principle of knowledge?
The first two parts of this last question are easy to answer. Something that
had parts would lack complete unity; hence, something with complete unity
must lack parts. Inasmuch as being divided makes something many, it is most
one if it is not only undivided but indivisible. Since there are different ways to
have partsthere are formal and material parts ( 25)there are different ways
to be many and, consequently, different respects in which something is one or
many. In general, what is one must be indivisible in some respect, and it is one
81. Aristotle often speaks of the one without elaborating, but several texts indicate its
functions. In Z 17, Aristotle says that one refers to what is indivisible in respect of
itself (1041a1819). It is also the principle of number: 15, 1021a12ff., N 1 1088a68
(see Jacob Klein, Greek Mathematical Thought and the Origin of Algebra [Cambridge,
Mass.: M.I.T. Press, 1968],108). Elsewhere, one is the principle of knowledge: 2,
994a21 (indivisible here signifies one); B 4, 999a2629; 999b2627; cf. De Anima
6, 430b56. Although Aristotle does speak of universals, like the good and the
beautiful, as principles of knowledge, they have this function because they are
one, that is, one over many.
82. 2, 1005a45; cf. I 4, 1055b2728; 2, 1004a1822; I 3, 1054a2932. Although the
passages in book are usually understood as ad hominem, their repetition in book
I suggests that they express Aristotles own views. More on these texts in 5.4.
134
just in that respect in which it is indivisible.83 Likewise, it is clear why some unity
must be the principle of number. A number is a plurality of units (I 1, 1053a30;
6, 1057a34). Clearly, the single unit that is the principle of this plurality must
be one. The character that holds these units together and makes them a single
number rather than a plurality of units is the form of number (M 8, 1084b1830);
it must be one to cause unity among the units (cf. 1, 993a2426).
More interesting and important is to understand why something one is the
principle of knowledge. Aristotle often claims that knowledge is of the universal (B 4, 999b2627; 6, 1003a1315; K 1, 1059b2527; 2, 1060b1921; De Anima
B 5, 417b2223) and that the universal is a one over many (Z 13, 1038b1112;
Z 16, 1040b2930; De Intp. 7, 17a3940). It follows that the object of knowledge
is something one. Also, he asserts that one science (knowledge) knows one
genus ( 2, 1003b1920; An. Po. A 28, 87a38). Since the genus is a universal, a
one over many, it follows, again, that something one is the object of knowledge. The reason that the universal and the genus are objects of knowledge
is that we know something when we grasp its formula, and the formula is
necessarily universal. A formula of an individual thing would not merely be
its formula but the formula of everything else of the same sort, the formula of
a universal (Z 15, 1040a914; 8, 1074a3435). Thus, the reason that one is the
principle of knowledge is that knowledge consists of grasping one formula, the
formula of a universal. Knowledge of the genus animal, for example, consists
in grasping the formula of the one nature all animals share.
This discussion shows why we cannot count on the same things having
(or being) all three functions: a universal is the principle of knowledge, but a
unit is the principle of number. For a single thing to have all three functions,
it would be necessary to understand at least one of them in some extended
sense. This result is parallel to the earlier conclusion: just as there is no nature
shared in common by all the things said to be one, so, too, it would appear
that there is no thing that would have all three unity functions.
Finally, let us consider the fourth function in the same way: why is something one the principle of contrariety? To answer this question we need
to understand what a principle of contrariety is. In fact, Aristotle speaks
of two different principles of contrariety: (1) the genus is the principle of
contraries because it is the matter of contrary differentiae ( 6, 1016a2527;
I 8, 1058a2324 with 1620; Z 8, 1025b34); (2) in each genus there is a primary pair of contraries that are defined by the possession and privation of
a character, and they are led back () to the primary contrariety,
one and many ( 2, 1004b2728; I 4, 1055b2829; K 3, 1061a1015 and K 4,
83. Interestingly, Aristotle denies that something that is simple, that is, something
that is indivisible in all respects, is one ( 7, 1072a3234).
135
1061b1314; cf. 7, 1072a34b1). In (1) it is the genus that is one because it

serves as a substrate, and contrariety exists within a genus. In (2), there is
some species of the genus that is one because it is defined as the possession
of the character that defines contrariety within the genus. The positive and
privative characters are also principles of change within a genus, for change
occurs when something comes to possess more or less of the positive character. When, for example, something that has a color comes to be more or
less white, it does so by acquiring or losing some measure of the differentia
that defines white. The color white and whatever else is one in its own genus
are called one because they (or their formulae) are somehow constituents
of other instances of their respective genera (I 7; Phys. A 7).
If such claims seem uncharacteristic of Aristotle, part of the reason is that
he rarely discusses the role of contraries in the Metaphysics. In my view, the
one that is the principle of contrariety is the one that is the qualitative measure
and principle of knowledge in a genus. The basis for this identification does
not emerge until book I, and contrariety is not discussed often in the opening
books of the Metaphysics. We will see, however, that ones being the principle
of contrariety is important for Aristotles overall argument here.
All four functions will become clearer when we see them in use. What is most
important for now is to recognize the ontological distinction between the things
that are one and the functions that make them one. To be one is not to have some
particular nature, but to have a nature that functions in one of these ways.

The third part of the definition of one is to be indivisible, and in 6
Aristotle goes on to describe ways something can be indivisible: In all cases
the one is indivisible either in quantity or in form ( ) (1016b2324).
This distinction between quantitative and qualitative indivisibility occurs in
several other passages (B 3, 999a14; I 1, 1052b3335; 1053a1820; 1053b67;
De Anima 5, 430b1415); but in 6 Aristotle describes instances of these
kinds of indivisibility and he arranges them each into a series. These two
series constitute the second component of Aristotles treatment of the one
that is without parallel in s discussion of the ways other terms are said.
The quantitative indivisibles are ordered in increasing degree of divisibility:
what is indivisible in all ways and is without position (the unit []), what
is indivisible in all ways and has position (the point), what is divisible in one
way (the line), what is divisible in two ways (the plane), and what is divisible
in three ways (the solid body) (1016b2428). The qualitative indivisibles are
also apparently arranged in increasing degree of divisibility: one in number,
136
one in species ( ), one in genus, and one by analogy. Something with

a single matter is one in number; something that has a single formula is one
in species; what has one categorial genus is one in genus; and what stands in
the same relation is one by analogy (1016b3135). There is an inclusion relation in the qualitative series: whatever is one in one of these ways is also one
in all the other ways that come after it, but not necessarily in the ways that
come before it. Thus, what is one in species is also indivisible in genus and by
analogy, but not necessarily one in number (1016b351017a3). Being numerically one, Socrates is, thus, also one in species, in genus, and, for reasons I will
explain, by analogy; the species human being is one by genus and analogy,
but not one in number.
Each seriesin whole or in partappears in other passages. The mathematicals in the quantitative series are often mentioned together (e.g., M 2,
1076b38); and the qualitative series, often formulated as same in number,
same in species, etc., are important in the Topics (see A 7) and in Aristotles
biological (H. A. A 1, 486a16ff.; B 1, 497b912; P. A. A 5, 645b2028) and physical (Phys. E 4, 227b4, 15, 2122) works. Only in the present passage, however,
are the two series mentioned together, and Aristotles / construction
(1016b24, b31) shows that he regards them as parallel. The second series is
collectively termed indivisible in form ( 1016b2324),
the same Greek expression Aristotle uses for the second entry in the series
where I rendered it indivisible in species. But this usage is not problematic,
for Aristotle often gives the same name to a genus and one of its species. We
should be careful to distinguish them.
Interestingly, numeric unity appears in both series. In the quantitative
series, it is the unit. In the qualitative series, something is one in number if
its matter is one. Matter individuates a species ( 8, 1074a3337): something
with one matter is one instance of a species. Thus, Socrates matter makes him
one instance of the species man.
According to the ordering relation, Socrates being one in species should make
him also one in genus and one by analogy; and each determination in this series
would characterize an individual. Most commentators have, however, discussed
the series as if its determinations applied exclusively to many individuals or
many descriptions of one individual, as if, for example, one in species could
be said only of several individuals or of one individual described in different
ways.84 The popularity of this interpretation makes it worth considering.
84. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E, 139, writes, This paragraph
seems intrusive. The senses it lists are, unlike many which have preceded, all
senses in which one means the same not single. For Kirwan, many expressions
are the same when they have one reference.
137
We can surmise several reasons that scholars have embraced it: (1) Aristotles
choice of the plural: he speaks of things () of which the matter is one,
things whose formula is one, and things of which the schema of the categories is the same (1016b3334). He himself seems to apply items in the series
to pluralities. (2) It is hard to see how an individual could be meaningfully
said to be one by analogy.85 This designation seems to require a plurality,
and most readers have supposed that the plurality would have to exist in different categories.86 (3) The plurality interpretation is easiest to square with the
ordering relation in the series. Aristotle claims not only that what is one in
number is one in the other ways, but also that what is one in a latter way is not
necessarily one in number. Two individuals that were one in species would
also be one in genus but not one in number (1016b3536). The later entries in
the series do apply to pluralities to which earlier entries do not.
These arguments for the plurality interpretation are easy to answer. (1)
The plural things could be read distributively as the things are each one.
Indeed, the word must be read this way when Aristotle speaks of things whose
matter is one (1016b33). To be sure, many different things are one by being
in the same genus; but, then, Socrates is also one by being in a genushe
is one ousia. Any individual is one instance of its species and of its genus. (2)
It is not difficult to see how the individual is also one by analogy. In general,
an analogy is a kind of class that is broader than a genus. Aristotle thinks that
things are called good by analogy: for as sight is in the body, intelligence
is in the soul, and others in other things (N. E. A 6, 1096b2829). In each pair,
the first term is good in respect of the latter. Hence, sight, intelligence, and the
others intended here are each good by analogy. Belonging in the same analogy,
they are each one by analogy. Later in the Metaphysics, Aristotle claims that
man and musical are each indivisible in respect to itself (Z 17, 1041a1719).
He is explaining a way in which each being is one: each is one by analogy
because it stands in the same relation to itself. To be sure, he complains that
such a self-relation is common and uninformative (1041a1920), but it is an
analogy because it conforms to 6s characterization, [Those things are one]
by analogy if they stand as something in relation to another (1016b3435).
(Something and another need not be distinct; Aristotle means only that
an analogy is a four term relation, a/b :: c/d. Different letters here indicate
different terms, not necessarily different values.) Thus, man and musical are
each called one by analogy because man stands to itself, as musical stands
85. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:305, denies that what is one in the other ways is
also one by analogy: It is by mere inadvertence that Aristotle has extended the
principle to a case in which it is hard to attach any definite meaning to it.
86. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:305, cites N. E. A 6, 1096b28, but this passage does
not show that an analogy cannot exist within a single category.
138
to itself. Another, equally trivial analogy is the relation of an instance of a

genus to its genus; for example, Socrates to ousia. Socrates is also one by analogy in this way; that is, he is called one because he is one by analogy with
everything else that is an instance of its genus.87 This analogy makes clear
why whatever is one in genus is also one by analogy, but the universality of
such analogies also signals their relative insignificance. (3) Although Aristotle
surely means to deny that two things that are one in genus need be one in species, there are other sorts of examples. Thus, a single species, such as human
being, is one in formula but not, as we saw earlier, one in number. Likewise,
the categorial genus of quality is one in genus but not one in species because
it has no formula. Good and one are each one by analogy but not one in genus.
We can surmise from the way he characterizes one in genus that Aristotle
has precisely such examples in mind. He insists here that something is one in
genus in respect of a categorial genus. These are the only genera that are not
also species, the only genera that do not have a formula that is one, and, thus,
the only genera that are not also one in species by Aristotles characterization
here. Hence, Aristotle does not require a plurality to explain why a later one
in the series need not also be an earlier one.
In sum, none of the reasons for the plurality interpretation is decisive. Since
we can make sense of the qualitative series without it, and since there is good
reason to think that an individual is one in species, genus, and by analogy,
we should reject it.88
Once we set aside the plurality interpretation, it becomes easy to see the
qualitative series of ones as spelling out qualitative degrees of unity parallel
to the quantitative degrees described in the quantitative series. Thus, what is
one in number is indivisible in all ways, what is one in species is divisible in
matter, what is one genus is divisible in matter and species, and what is one
by analogy is divisible in matter, species, and genus. Whereas the quantitative
series consists of unit, point, line, plane figure and solid body, the qualitative
series is individual, species, genus, and analogy. (The species and the genus
mark off the quality concerning ousia, for they signify of what sort the ousia
87. Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria, 369.2123, and Kirwan, Aristotles
Metaphysics: Books , , and E,140, recognize this as an analogy, but they take it
to refer only to a unity possessed by many.
88. There is a controversy about whether there are individual instances of nonsubstantial categories in the Categories. J. L. Ackrill, Aristotles Categories and De
Interpretatione, Clarendon Aristotle Series (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1963),7475,
argues that there are; G. E. L. Owen, Inherence, Phronesis10 (1965):97105,
argues that there are not. If my interpretation is correct, Metaphysics 6 suggests
that there are individual instances of non-substantial categories that are one in
number, one in species, and, therefore, one in categorial genus.
139
isCat. 5, 3b1920.) Since the later ones follow the earlier ones, the individual
is qualitatively indivisible in all ways and therefore qualitatively indivisible in
the ways indicated by later ones. Analogy is most divisible and, therefore, not
necessarily indivisible in the ways that earlier ones are. On this interpretation,
the qualitative and quantitative series are parallel.
In order to maintain this parallel, Aristotle needs to distinguish sharply
between species and genus, and this he does by confining genus to the categorial genus, as noted. A qualitative difference in divisibility between this genus
and the species is that the genus must be divided by differentiae to be a genus
(B 3, 998b2227), whereas the species can be divided but need not be. This
distinction is real, but it would seem more plausible to distinguish between
the infima species and all genera on the ground that this species cannot be
divided and any genus can be divided (cf. 999a16). Indeed, we might even
be tempted to try to interpret at 1016b34 as simply any
generic predicate (cf. 999a5) to make a more plausible distinction of qualitative
degree in the series; but this path is excluded by Aristotles characterization
of one in species as one in formula (1016b33). Every species, from the lowest
to the highest, is one in formula. We should rather understand the qualitative
degrees of divisibility as between indivisibility in formula and indivisibility in predicate, where something is indivisible in predicate if it is a single
instance of the genus that predicate signifies and, apparently, if it belongs to
no higher genus. Since the predicate (genus) is included in the formula, what
is indivisible in formula is also indivisible in predicate, but not the other way
around. This is, indeed, a qualitative difference in divisibility. In contrast, the
alternative that I suggested, that the difference between one in species and
one in genus would be that between what cannot be divided and what can
be divided, distinguishes the number of divisions without distinguishing
different bases for making the divisions.
To develop this last point, let us consider two species like mammal and
animal. According to Aristotles characterization of the series, each would be
one in species because each has one formula, even though the one is divided
into the other. This is parallel to the divisibility of two line segments, one of
which includes the other. We might be tempted to say that the longer segment
is more divisible than the other, but both fall under the quantitative heading
of divisible in one dimension. The issue here, as in the difference between
species and genus, is not how many divisions can be made but what it is that
is indivisible, formula or predicate.
The prominence of one in formula in Aristotles account of the qualitative
series raises the question of whether one in species here is the same as the
one in formula that Aristotle identifies as a per se one. Indeed, commentators
sometimes correlate both qualitative and quantitative series with the things
140
said to be one described earlier in 6. They identify the ones in the quantitative series with one by continuity and, in the qualitative series, one in number
with one in sensible substrate, one in species with one in formula, and one in
genus with one by generic substrate.89
In my view, these identifications are unlikely. First, we saw that what is most
one in formula are individual ousiai, entities that fall in the series under one in
number. These latter also fall under the next determination in the series, one
in species; but there is no reason to think they are what is most properly one
in species. If what is most one in formula is not what is most one in species,
these two types of one cannot be identified. Second, since the unit and the
point belong to the quantitative series, and since neither can be continuous,
one by continuity cannot be simply identified with the quantitative series.
Third, among his examples of one in generic substrate, Aristotle includes
isosceles and equilateral triangles because both are instances of the genus
triangle (1016a32). But, as we saw, Aristotle claims that something is one in
genus only by being an instance of a categorial genus (1016b3334). Thus, one
by generic substrate cannot be identified with one in genus. Fourth, some of
what Aristotle speaks of as one in sensible substrate, namely, the elements, are
not properly one, he claims later (see Z 16, 1040b89). These elements cannot
fall among what is one in number in the series. Wine and water are each one in
(ultimate) sensible substrate; wine is also one in (proximate) sensible substrate.
If one in substrate is numerical unity, then wine and water are each numerically one, as is wine. That would mean that the wine in two bottles would be
numerically one and even, perhaps, that bottles of wine and of water would
be numerically one in respect of an ultimate substrate. On the other hand, a
clump of mud would not be numerically one insofar as it has two substrates,
water and earth. Such examples are paradoxical if one in substrate is identified
with one in number in the qualitative series, a good ground for rejecting this
identification. In sum, the items in the series cannot be readily identified with
the per se ones discussed earlier in 6.
Still, the series is related to the things said to be one. All the per se ones
are things that are indivisible, and the series consists of the quantitative and
qualitative ways that something can be indivisible. In other words, the distinction is between things that are one and the type of unity they have. There is
no linguistic marker that confirms this distinction. Discussing both ways of
being one and the qualitative series, Aristotle speaks of things () that fall
89. Although he does not state these correlations explicitly, Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics
1:304, holds this view. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,13940,
agrees with the qualitative correlations, but he cautiously points out differences,
such as the absence of analogy from the preceding discussion and the change in
the definition of what he terms one in form.
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under each, and the same Greek term, , indicates what is one and the
unity it has. However, Aristotle introduces the two series by distinguishing
indivisibility in quantity and quality, and the most prominent feature of his
discussions of both is their ordering: Aristotle is clearly comparing degrees
of unity, not things that are one.
Consider how this distinction manifests itself in the quantitative series.
We saw that something that is one by continuity is one because its motion is
indivisible in time, meaning that it all moves together. The motions indivisibility is a quantitative indivisibility that is or is akin to the indivisibility of the
line. That is to say, the motion is divisible in time but only in one dimension,
as it were. The motion is divisible in the sense that the period during which
it occurs can, like any interval of time, be divided into smaller intervals. But
the motion is indivisible in the sense that a part of the thing does not move at
the same time as another part stands still. Aristotles point is that a thing so
constituted as to have an indivisible motion is continuous. That is, the character of the motion reflects the structure of the thing: if its motion is indivisible
in time, then the things parts will be connected. Thus, it is some thing that
is one by continuity, and its unity is a type of indivisibility that falls in the
quantitative series. This latter unity takes its position in the series based on
its degree of divisibility, even though Aristotle defines the series spatially.
Temporal indivisibility is one dimensional, like a line. Spatial indivisibility
could be defined in respect of a line, plane, or solid; and Aristotle might have
identified things that are one in respect of any of these spatial indivisibilities
had it been useful to do so. (The point and the unit are not divisible and are
included as limiting cases.90) Indeed, the circular path of a heavenly sphere
does give it a kind of unity, wholeness, as we saw (I 1, 1052a2228). So the
temporal indivisibility that makes a thing one by continuity falls within the
quantitative series, and this series stands as kinds of unity, connected with
but distinct from the things that fall under its determinations.
The situation in the qualitative series is parallel. One in species is the type
of qualitative unity possessed by the thing that is one in formula. A sign of
this is Aristotles emphasis on the ordering of the series. A thing that falls
under one item in the series will also fall under the later items because they
are weaker unities, but not necessarily under the earlier, stronger unities.
Thus, something that is one in species will have a single formula. The formula consists of a differentia and a genus, and the genus, in turn, must fall
90. On the connection between numbers, points, and lines, see Some Problems in
Aristotles Mathematical Ontology in Halper, Form and Reason. This connection
is important because it helps to make plausible Aristotles inclusion of units in
an account of what is more or less divisible.
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under a higher genus, and so forth. Hence, there must be some highest genus,
some categorial genus, under which the thing falls; and that means that the
thing is one in genus. Standing in this relation with its genus, the thing is
analogous to other instances of a highest genus and, hence, one by analogy.
As I suggested earlier, the difference in degree of unity is that one in species
is indivisible in formula but also indivisible in predicate and, because it falls
under an analogy, indivisible in analogy; whereas one in genus is indivisible
only in predicate and by analogy. The species is individuated by matter ( 8,
1073b3135), and the individual is most one because not only is its formula
one, its categorial genus one, and its analogy one, but its matter is also one.
Thus, the determinations in the qualitative series are types of indivisibility
in descending degrees. These types of indivisibility all derive from a things
formula, in contrast with the quantitative unities which derive from the things
material spatial configuration.
Some examples are helpful. A piece of wood is called one because it is
continuous, but its unity is the temporal indivisibility of its motion that is due
to its linearity; the species human being is one in formula, but its unity is its
specific differentia. This latter is a quality in respect of which things are identified as human beings (cf. 14, 1020a33b1; Cat. 5, 3b1920, quoted earlier in
this section). The differentia belongs to the species and to individuals within it,
and their indivisibility in respect of formula is an internal feature of them, just
as linearity and the capacity for a certain kind of motion are internal features
of material things. However, neither type of unity counts, as such, as part of
the thing. Thus, the species is defined by its differentia, and it is important
for its being a species that the differentia is indivisible; but the unity of the
differentia is not a formal part of the species. Indivisibility may be the essence
of one, but it is not an independent constituent of the human essence. Still, the
human essence is called one in respect of a particular kind of qualitative
indivisibility, namely, indivisibility in formula, and this indivisibility counts
as a kind of essence in respect of which the human essence is called one.
Earlier in this chapter I argued that Aristotles accounts in book of the
ways terms are said presupposes a three-fold distinction between thing,
term, and the essence in respect of which the term is applied. In other discussions, this three-component distinction is often implicit, but in 6 Aristotle
supplements his account of the ways things are called one with three characterizations of the essence of one along with the quantitative and qualitative
series of ones. It is now clear that these series are meant to explicate the third
characterization of essence, indivisibility. Hence, we have in 6 an elaborate
account of things said to be one followed by a distinct, elaborate account of
the essences in respect of which things are one. We have seen that not all the
things called one are so-called in respect of these essences and that some
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essences of one discussed here could be used to define other ways one is
said. It would not be possible to make sense of the richness of this discussion
without the three-component analysis of said in many ways that I argued
earlier. Hence, 6s discussion of the essence and the series of one counts as
striking confirmation of the three-component analysis.
However, that analysis holds for each of s discussions. Why, then, do we
find a separate treatment of essence only in 6? Should we rather conclude
that 6 undermines the three-component analysis? The other discussions
in book do describe what amount to essences in respect of which things
are called by terms, though these are not, of course, the categorial essences
that define things like human being. We will see more about these essences
later, in Chapters 5 and 6. They should not trouble us now. What is puzzling
is why one comes in for such a rich treatment in book when all the other
topics, including being, receive brief sketches. We could take the richness
of 6 as a mark of the ones significance in the context of Presocratic and
Academic metaphysics as well as for Aristotle himself: one is the only topic
discussed in , besides being, that comes in for a separate treatment later.
Likewise, we can notice that the rich treatment of one here, particularly the
quantitative and qualitative series of ones, prepares the way for I 1s regrouping of the things said to be one under material and formal heads, for these
latter amount to calling things one in respect of quantitative and qualitative
features. Indeed, Aristotle makes much of the distinction between one as a
quantitative measure and a qualitative measure in I 12. However, the most
important conclusion to draw from Aristotles rich treatment of one in 6
is also the most obvious: the things that are called one are not the same as
the essence or essences in respect of which they are so-called. Indeed, in no
case is the essence of one the essence of the thing that is one; that is, there
is no thing whose essence, as a thing, is to be one, no thing that is one itself.
Again, to be a human being is to have a particular specific differentia, and
because this latter is indivisible, a human being is one. But indivisibility is
not among the proper parts of this differentia. A human being is one because
of what he is, but the essence, that is, the indivisibility that makes him one
is not what he is or even part of what he is. The essence of one, and all of
its various determinations, are functions that real essences might have, but
they are not themselves real essences. Contrast the essence of one with the
essence of being: what makes something a being is precisely what makes
it what it is, namely, its essence. That is, the essence of a being is just to be
what it is, whereas the essence of something one is to be indivisible in some
way. This difference signals the distinction between being and one, a major
theme of the Metaphysics, however neglected it has been in the literature. We
will come to see more clearly, as we work through the opening books of the
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Metaphysics, why the essence of being differs from the essence of one, that is,
why the former essence is distinct from the things that are one but the latter
essence identical to what is. Indeed, an important benefit of considering the
one is that it helps us to recognize its difference from being and, thereby, to
raise the question of the essence of being. We will see that Aristotle raises
this latter question in Metaphysics and that his identification of being as
pros hen belongs to his treatment of it.
An important dimension of the difference between the essences of one
and being is introduced in 6: analogy. As Aristotle presents it here, analogy is broader in scope than the categorial genera. That is, what is one by
analogy need not belong to the same category, and we saw that Aristotle
describes the good as an analogy that extends beyond a single category.
Nothing prevents an analogy from belonging to one category, but it is the
analogies of broader scope that are more interesting for metaphysics because
they allow Aristotle to consider together types of being that have no common
character. They function as classes beyond the highest genera. Given their
scope, it is perhaps not surprising that Thomas Aquinas includes among
analogies those things called by one term in respect of some primary nature
which they are or to which they are related.91 These things are pros hen, and
among them Aristotle includes the healthy, the medical and, importantly,
beings ( 2, 1003a33b10).
Aquinas distinguishes between pros hen analogy and the analogy that
appears in 6. In the latter Aristotle explains an analogy as a four term proportion: a/b = c/d. A pros hen cannot fit this proportion. Exercise and color are
both called healthy because each is said in relation to one nature, health. But
their relations with health are differentexercise is a cause of health, color
is a sign of health.92 Hence, color/healthexercise/health. So things that are
healthy are not one by analogy, at least according to the definition of 6. It is
not the number of terms that disqualifies healthy, but their different relations
to health. There can be an analogy with only three distinct terms. For example,
Socrates and Bucephalus stand in the same relation to ousia because they are
both instances of the genus ousia: thus, Socrates/ousia = Bucephalus/ousia. In
an analogy, the terms differ, but their relation is the same; in a pros hen, one
term remains the same, but the relations to it differ.
91. Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle,V. L.8:C 879. The doctrine of pros hen analogy continued to be important in Scholastic metaphysics.
92. As Aquinas draws the distinction, either two things are related to one thing
differently or two things are related to two other things in the same way,
Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle,V. L.8:C 879. He calls the former pros
hen analogy.
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Aquinass identification of pros hen as a kind of analogy is an important move

for medieval philosophy, and it spurred a great deal of discussion.93 However,
we need to separate Aristotles philosophy from medieval refinements. Aristotle
identifies being as a pros hen. We have seen that he recognizes a one by analogy,
and I will argue, in the third volume of this study, that analogy is intimately
connected with the essence of one: one is a kind of analogy. As such, one is
distinct from being. Importantly, in Aristotles considered opinion, as we learn
later in the Metaphysics (N 6), an analogy has little ontological status and is not
the sort of unity that can be the object of knowledge. In contrast, being can be
known and be the object of the science of metaphysics because it is a pros hen.
The failure to appreciate the difference, spurred unfortunately by Aquinass
pros hen analogy, has contributed to the widespread supposition that one and
being are effectively identical.
Despite his disparaging view of analogy, Aristotle often uses it. Indeed,
analogy plays a key role in his biological and physical writings as well as
in the Metaphysics. Apparently, it is prior to us, even if it is never prior in
nature: although analogies are apparent, their causes lie in something else.
We should, therefore, not be surprised by heuristic uses of analogies, but we
must carefully distinguish them from Aristotles other way of speaking about
what does not fall to a single categorial genus, pros hen.
Although 6 is an extraordinarily rich treatment of the ways one is said,
it omits, besides pros hen, another one that is important later. We have seen
that something is numerically one because its matter is one (1016b3233). At
8, 1074a3137, Aristotle asserts that an unmoved mover is one in number
because it lacks all matter, and matter is the source of plurality. Perhaps this
omission is not surprising, for 6 catalogues only the ways one is commonly said. The unmoved mover is one in a different way. 6 cannot, then,
be a complete treatment.
2.5 Same
Aristotles treatment in 9 of things said to be the same parallels his account
of the things said to be one. Once again, he distinguishes accidental and per se
types, and he divides each of the latter into schemata that resemble the schemata
of corresponding ways one is said. Drawing on the earlier account allows
Aristotle to offer a concise treatment of the per se ways same is said:
93. For an excellent discussion of what was at issue, see part two, Analogy of
Proportion or Attribution of James F. Anderson, The Bond of Being: An Essay on
Analogy and Existence (St. Louis: B. Herder Books, 1949),93163.
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Things are said to be the same per se in as many ways as one is

said.94 For things whose matter is one either in form or in number are
said to be the same and also things whose ousia is one. Thus, it is clear
that sameness is a kind of oneness [] either of what is many or of
what is treated as many, such as when you say something is the same
as itself (1018a59).
There are at least three points worth noticing in this passage. First, it distinguishes things whose matter is one and things whose ousia is one (cf. I 3,
1054a32b1). Aristotle explains that the matter is one in form or in number,
evidently distinguishing one in sensible substrate from one by continuity. The
contrast he draws between one in matter and one in ousia implies that the latter
is one in form or, as 6 puts it, one in formula.95 This passage reinforces my
earlier distinction between the material and formal ways one is said.
An apparent counterexample to Aristotles claim that same is said in as
many ways as one is continuity: two things that are (each) continuous would
not be called the same.96 But the problem here is only apparent. Imagine looking at Raphaels School of Athens and noticing that the line through Socrates
arm is the same as the line through another subjects shoulder. The two lines
would be the same by continuity, not because they are actually continuous but
because they would be continuous if extended. Hence, it is legitimate to call two
lines the same by continuity, and one by continuity is not a counterexample
to Aristotles claim that same is said in as many ways as one.
A second important feature of the quoted passage is a point that I have
already applied to 6: Aristotle claims that sameness is a oneness of many
things or of what is treated as many. If same is said of a plurality or of one
thing that is treated as a plurality, then one must be said of each thing that
constitutes the plurality and that is treated as many; for there cannot be a
plurality unless each is one. Hence, if two things are the same, each must also
be one, and something that is the same as itself must be one by itself. This was
94. Following Jaegers emendation (see OCT, ad loc.), an emendation also accepted
by Ross in his text.
95. Aristotles use of ousia for form here contrasts with his earlier claim (6,
1016b89) that primary ones are things whose ousia is one by continuity, form,
or formula; for there ousia is neutral and form refers to the sensible form.
Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:31112, also identifies the ways same is said
with the ways one is said, but he tries to connect this passage with the treatment of same in Topics A 7. I do not think that the connection works because the
Topics text consists of a series of sames that parallels the qualitative series of ones.
I argued in the previous section that the qualitative and quantitative series of
ones should be distinguished from the things said to be one.
96. This problem is raised by White, Aristotle on Sameness and Oneness,185.
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the reason that I insisted on reading each way one is said in 6 as applying
first to an individual thing. Again, if same is said in as many ways as one
is, and same is always said of some sort of plurality, every one must be
able to be said of single individuals.
The third noteworthy point about the quoted passage is its reference to
oneness (): sameness is a type of oneness, the oneness of a plurality.
There are three possible interpretations of oneness: (1) the ways one is
said, (2) the essence of one, and (3) the series of ones. Aristotle has already
told us that the ways same is said correspond to the ways one is said. In
going on to say that sameness is a oneness, he may mean simply to repeat
this point. That is, oneness may be just (1) a way of referring collectively to
the diverse ways one is said. Alternatively, Aristotle may mean to abstract
something common to all these ways of being one. In this case oneness is (2)
the essence of one, the common character belonging to each thing that is one,
and his claim that sameness is a oneness links the character common to all
ones with that common to all that is the same. There is, in fact, no real nature
common to all ones, but this does not stop Aristotle from speaking about
the essence of the one, and sameness could easily refer to a corresponding
essence. A third interpretation is that oneness is (3) the series of ones, the
kinds of unity. Then the passage would be asserting a correspondence between
this series and the series of sames. Not only do the things said to be one
and the same correspond, but the types of unity correspond to the types of
sameness, the passage would be asserting. All three of these interpretations
are possible. Aristotle has not given us enough here to decide between them,
and other passages in the Metaphysics that mention oneness contain the
same ambiguity ( 26, 1023b3436; I 3, 1054b3).
Although Aristotles claim that same depends on one seems innocuous
enough, it has a particularly interesting consequence for logic. For Aristotle, a
thing is said to be one in respect of some particular character it possesses, a
character of its matter or of its form. It follows that two things are also said to
be the same in respect of their matter or their form, and in general, same is
always said in respect of something else. Two things are not absolutely the same,
but the same X.97 Thus, two triangles are one and the same figure (1016a3132).
For Aristotle, two ousiai can be the same, two qualities like, and two quantities equal (cf. 15, 1021a812; I 3, 1054a32b3). And, even the sameness of two
ousiai is in respect of matter or in respect of form. Thus, same does not have
the universal applicability of its correlate in contemporary logic, identity. Most
97. David Wiggins, Sameness and Substance (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University
Press, 1980), takes what I think is the correct view of Aristotle on this point. It is
rejected by Matthews, Accidental Unities,230.
148
current logicians take identity to be a single predicate that does not vary with
what it is predicated of. If Aristotle lacks a concept of identity, we cannot ascribe
to him Leibnizs principle of the identity of indiscernibles: that any two things
will be identical unless they differ in some attribute. It is not that Aristotle
would deny the principle, but that he rejects the conceptual apparatus necessary for its formulation. He lacks the concept of universal sameness or identity
requisite for asserting the principle, the concept of a single, real character that
would extend beyond the boundaries of individual categories. Aristotles idea
that predicates could not, in principle, apply to more than one type of being,
the idea that a predicate depends for its nature on the nature of the subject of
which it is predicated and that the nature of the subject is not and could not be
a predicateall this is essentially foreign to contemporary predicate logic.
It might be objected that Aristotle has concepts of one and same that extend
beyond a single category, and that he uses them when he claims that one and
same differ in each category. My claim that Aristotle could not accept Leibnizs
law might also be challenged on the ground that the point of this law is not
to find some nature that is the same as itself, but to exclude the possibility
that there would be two things with the same nature and attributes. For this
negative function, the notion of a one or a same that transcends individual
categories may be thought to suffice.
These objections are easily answered. To be sure, Aristotle does need some
common one in order to claim that one differs in each category, but this one has
no content to it and does no work. It is an analogy. We cannot use it to exclude
the possibility of indiscernible identicals because at this level of generality,
every being is indivisible in respect of itself and, thereby, one by analogy. To
this extent, every being is indiscernible from every other. We might imagine
an Aristotelian attempt to circumvent the problem by formulating a limited
alternative to the identity of indiscernibles: given that x and y are particular
beings, and F some nature, x and y cannot be the same F in every respect and
still be different. However, this remains problematic because any x has an
infinite number of accidental attributes (E 2, 1026b7). Thus, the very notion
of two things identical in every respect requires that we think an infinity of
attributes. Since there is no way to grasp an infinity, there is no way to know
that two things are identical. If indiscernibility cannot be determined, the
exclusion of the identity of what is indiscernible is moot.
There are two passages where Aristotle is thought to notice the apparent
failure of the principle of indiscernibility of identicals: S. E. 24, 179a2639; Phys.
3, 202b1416.98 But these are rather texts where he points to problems arising
98. These passages are discussed by White, Aristotle on Sameness and Oneness
and Matthews, Accidental Unities.
149
from confusing one type of sameness with another; in the latter passage, for
example, confusing sameness in definition with sameness in matter. Such
confusions are scarcely intelligible to anyone committed to the Leibnizian
view that identity is a single relation in all contexts.
There is another confusion that may yet be raised as a last ditch defense of
a Leibnizian identity principle. We have seen that one differs in each category:
things whose ousia is one are said to be the same, whereas things whose
quality is one are like, and things whose quantity is one are equal (15,
1021a1012). But Aristotle also holds that same can be said of what belongs
to different categories, for he speaks of the same figure and the same triangle
(1016a3032). Two figures or two triangles are the same because their substrate
or their essence is one; that is, they are one because of their ousia. Insofar as each
being has an ousia, it might be said that same is a universal identity function
that would allow Aristotle to endorse the principle of the identity of indiscernibles. The problem here is, again, that although same always refers to an ousia,
what the ousia is differs from category to category and even within the same
category, inasmuch as things with the same matter as well as things with the
same form are called same. By the same token, like is also transcategorial
because it always signifies things qualities; but what those qualities are differs
from category to category. Hence, the same that extends to all the categories is
no more identity than the one that extends to all the categories. This difficulty
in speaking of a universal identity is an instance of the more general problem
of applying logical operators in Aristotelian ontology. I will return to this issue
in the discussion of the principle of non-contradiction in Chapter 5.
2.6 Summary
Perhaps the most important result of this chapters discussion of Aristotles
treatment of one in book is the realization of its complexity. Besides the
different ways one is said of things, Aristotle discusses the essence of one
and the qualitative and quantitative series of ones. None of book s other
treatments of the ways a term is said includes anything comparable to the
latter two discussions.
In contrast with some other interpretations, I have argued here that
Aristotles account of the ways terms are said contains three components:
things, terms, and essences. Here, the essence is not the proper Aristotelian
essence, but a character of the thing in respect of which the term is said of it.
Thus, things are said to be one in respect of their continuity, in respect of
their substrate, in respect of their indivisibility in formula, or in respect of their
wholeness. Continuity, substrate, indivisibility in formula, and wholeness are
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characters of things; they are not properly essences because they belong to
more than one category, but they belong to things in respect of their proper
essences. If this is right, Aristotles account of the ways one is said is not
primarily a discussion of linguistic usage, nor a classification of things. Rather,
the account requires all three components of Aristotles analysis. A thing is
said to be one in respect to some character, such as continuity, that belongs
to it. We cannot understand this or any other way one is said by referring
to the thing alone, to the term alone, to a verbal formula alone or the character
that formula expresses alone.
Among the central distinctions to emerge here is that between material
and formal ones. Some things are called one in respect of their matter, and
others are so called in respect of their form or formula. This result of 6 plays
a most important roleimplicitly or explicitlyin discussions later in the
Metaphysics. It also supports the account of the essence of one that Aristotle
presents here.
The essential characters in respect of which things are called one pertain
to the form or matter of things. Importantly, these are each characters that
belong to individual things. This fact supports my contention that each one
discussed in 6 is some individual thing, and that Aristotle is not discussing
primarily the unity possessed by plurality. To be sure, he does occasionally
use one of pluralities, and he claims a correspondence between the ways
one is said and the ways same is said; but it is the latter term that properly applies to a plurality. Since sameness is a oneness of a plurality, in order
for two things to be the same, each must be one. Aristotle must have some
independent understanding of why a single individual is one.
When we ask what is common to the various characters in respect of which
things are called one, we seek the essence of one. While it is possible to answer
the parallel question of why different kinds of things are called animal by
supplying a generic nature, there is no such nature of one. Rather, the essence
of one is, as Aristotle says in I 1, closer to a word. There is a verbal formula
that characterizes whatever is one, but there is not a single nature that is the
essence of one. Instead, Aristotle describes the essence by characterizing three
functions that mark a thing as one without being its nature: to be the principle
of number, to be the principle of knowledge in a genus, and to be indivisible.
The types and degrees of indivisibility are characterized in the quantitative
and qualitative series of unities: unit, point, line, plane, body; and individual,
species, genus, analogy. These series characterize the type of indivisibility possessed by things called one without reference to the things that possess them.
That is to say, the series of ones characterize the essences of one independently
of things and terms. The quantitative and qualitative series express degrees of
the type of unity possessed by, respectively, things that are one by continuity
and things that are one in formula.
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It is interesting and significant that Aristotles account of the ways being

is said in 7, an account that clearly forms the basis for the exploration of
being that occupies the Metaphysics central books, does not contain the complexity of 6s account of one. 7 does not consider the essence of being, nor
does it discuss qualitative or quantitative degrees of being. It does not, and
apparently does not need to distinguish the essence of being from the things
called beings. If being has an essence, it is quite different from the essence
of one. In any case, the ways one is said differ from the ways being is said,
and there is no obvious correspondence between the four per se onesone
in continuity, one in substrate, one in formula, and wholeand the three per
se beingstruth, actuality, and the categories. The differences between one
and being are more profound than what emerges from book , but the present discussion suffices to make plausible the independent inquiry into one
that I undertake here.
Just as Aristotles inquiry into being begins by recounting the ways being
is said (E 2, 1026a33b2) and proceeds by exploring each way in turn, we would
expect an inquiry into one to note the ways one is said and to explore each
way in turn. When Aristotle does eventually undertake an inquiry into one,
in book I, he does begin by recounting the ways one is said (1, 1052a15b1).
He gives a more systematic presentation than what we find in 6 because,
I suggested, book Is version incorporates some conclusions drawn from the
central books. However, he does not explore in great detail each way one is
said. It is not possible to account for the differences in Aristotles treatment of
one and being without examining most of the Metaphysics. However, I suggest
that Aristotle needs no extensive treatment of the ways one is said because
it quickly emerges that there is no single thing that is primary in all these
ways and, consequently, no real essence of one. There is no common character
shared by things said to be one in respect of their matter and those that
are one in respect of their form. Hence, his treatments of one in 6 and I 1
seem to be richer than 7s treatment of being only because they can cover
quickly the comparable conceptual ground that Aristotle covers in respect of
being through much of the Metaphysics.
Aristotles inquiry into one occupies book I, but one plays a key role in his
inquiries into causes, being, and ousia throughout the Metaphysics. We will
see that one is present far more often and far more significantly than readers
assume. Some key doctrines of the Metaphysics are discussed by considering
one, and some are even stated in terms of one. Most importantly, we will
see that Aristotle uses one as a tool of argument. He often uses one to pose
problems that he then introduces his own, innovative metaphysical doctrines
to resolve. Thus, discussions of one serve as the device that justifies these doctrines even though one does not usually appear in their eventual formulation.
Hence, the discussion of ones in this chapter will help us understand more
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precisely not only Aristotles claims about one, but also a great deal of the
argument of the Metaphysics. Despite carefully distinguishing ways one is
said, Aristotle often speaks simply of one without indicating which one he
means. Armed with an understanding of the ways one is said, we are ready
to consider the problem of the one and the many in the Metaphysics.
As straightforward as much of 6s treatment of one is, we should realize that it is predicated upon an assumption that seems to be antithetical
to Aristotelian science; namely, it is possible to know characters of things,
namely, types of unities, that do not belong to a single categorial genus. It is
important to see why this is problematic. Like other Greek thinkers, Aristotle
insists that knowledge must be a grasp of something. Inasmuch as things are
always of some sort, they should always fall within some genus. An entity that
spanned multiple genera would fall in none and, thus, fail to be something. As
such, it should be unknowable.99 Thus far, I have tried to finesse this problem
by speaking of essences that are non-categorial and, thus, not real essences.
This move seems easy to grasp, especially since contemporary thinkers rarely
speak of categorial essences and since even Aristotelian scholars rarely take
seriously his limitation of each science to a single genus. However, non-categorial things and essences remain deeply problematic for Aristotle. It is not
coincidental that his treatments of the ways one, being, and other such
terms are said does not appear until book . We will need to consider later
how Aristotle justifies these treatments.
Working through Aristotles treatment of one before having the justification
for it does not undermine my claim that the Metaphysics follows a careful and
systematic plan. Although it will help us to be aware of the different ones,
understanding the first four books of the Metaphysics does not depend on it. It
is rather that contemporary accounts of one and being, contemporary understandings of Aristotles methodology as beginning from linguistic usage, and
the contemporary omission of any notion of essence from the ways one and
other such terms are said would undermine the inquiry I undertake here as
they would undermine, I think, Aristotles own inquiry. We need to see that
the ways one and being are said are different, that Aristotle is not talking about linguistic usage, and that he relies on some sort of non-categorial
essences in order to be able to work through the complex arguments that he
presents. It was necessary for me to begin with Aristotles account of the ways
one is said to see why this account really does need justification.
99. For an analogous issue, see Immanuel Kants discussion of symbols, Critique of the
Power of Judgment (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006),22627. Like
Aristotle, Kant thinks there is an important philosophical use for terms that do
not meet the standard criteria to be used in knowledge claims.
CHAPTER
The Principles of Metaphysics:

Books A and
Unlike Aristotles other works, the Metaphysics contains two introductory books,
designated as A and . Both consider what sort of principles and causes ought to
be treated by metaphysics. The second of them, book , is not referred to by other
books of the Metaphysics. Although there is no dispute about the authenticity of
its doctrine, it is generally taken to be out of place and often said to have been
written down by one of Aristotles students. Even if Aristotle is its author, the
small letter with which the tradition titles it suggests that it is an afterthought.
I shall not examine the historical evidence here; my concern is rather with the
content of books A and and with how they function to introduce the subject
of metaphysics. I shall argue that they offer complementary treatments of the
principles, and that both are necessary for what comes later. Both books inquire
into the number of causes. Book A shows that there must be at least four causes,
and book shows that there cannot be an infinite plurality of causes. In each
case, the number of the causes tells us something about the nature of the causes
and the nature of being. These inquiries into the causes of all beings have the
universal scope required of a science of metaphysics and, therefore, implicitly
show that a metaphysics is possible before Aristotle raises this issue in bookB.
Moreover, by showing that there is not an infinite number of causes, book
removes a devastating obstacle to the existence of metaphysics. Since throughout
both books Aristotle assumes that each cause is one, the question of the number
of causes falls under the broad rubric of one and many problems, as discussed
in my first chapter.
. Summaries of the literature on book appear in: Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics
1:xxivxxv; Owens, Doctrine of Being,8990; Giovanni Reale, The Concept of First
Philosophy and the Unity of the Metaphysics of Aristotle, trans. John R. Catan (Albany:
State University of New York Press, 1980),4345. There is an ancient tradition that
the work was written by Pasicles of Rhodes, a pupil of Aristotle, but this likely
means only that Pasicles wrote it down. The Greek commentators agree that the
book is by Aristotle. Ross thinks the book should introduce a work of physics;
Owens thinks its doctrines help to introduce the Metaphysics; Reale thinks the
book is in its proper place. One source of difficulty is the way both A and end:
the last line of A seems to refer to B, and the last line of to the Physics. Although
this is troubling, I think that a better way to come to grips with both books is by
examining their content, and this is what I do here.
153
154
The Principles of Metaphysics: Books A and

The Metaphysics begins with the well-known claim that all men by nature
desire to know ( 980a1). Aristotle supports it by pointing to a
sign, the delight we take in our senses:
For even apart from their usefulness, they are a delight in themselves,
especially sight; for not only that we might act, but even wanting to do
nothing we choose seeing above allso to speakthe others. The cause
is that, among the senses, this most of all makes us know () and
makes clear many differences (980a2227).
Aristotle is not praising the senses because they are instrumental for knowledge, as we might have expected: we do not delight in what is merely of
instrumental value. Although the senses can serve other endsseeing, for
example, allows us to actAristotle claims that we choose seeing even apart
from action because it brings us knowledge. He is arguing that we value the
senses because of knowledge by pointing to the preeminent place we accord
to sight. This sense is superior to the others in its mak[ing] clear many differences, that is, in its conveying to us more differentiae than other senses do.
Since we value sight above other senses, we must value the senses as modes
of knowing because it is in respect of knowing that sight is the best. Since we
value the senses for the knowledge they bring us, we must value knowing.
(The claim is that we value and delight [] in seeing more than in
touch and taste, and, thus, that our delight in even the lowest mode of knowing exceeds the delight we take in food, drink, and sex. Were the value we
place on the senses due to pleasure alone, we would presumably value touch
and taste more. Behind Aristotles claim is, perhaps, the thoughtcorrect, I
thinkthat a person who loses his sight suffers a greater human loss than
one who loses any of his other senses.) Evidently, sensing is a way of knowing
and we value them as such. Because we value the senses when they bring us
nothing besides knowledge, we must value knowledge.
Thus, it is not knowing in a technical or philosophical way that all necessarily desire. All men desire to know in an extremely broad sense of know,
a sense that evidently includes sensation. What might at first seem to be a
. Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle,I. L.1:C 24, advances
three of his own reasons for the claim that the desire to know belongs to all men.
All show that we desire knowledge in the narrow, technical sense. However,
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universal desire for philosophy or wisdom is, on closer inspection, a desire

for any type of knowledge, even sensible knowledge. Only desire for such a
broad sense of knowledge is plausible to ascribe to all men.
Once we see the broad notion of knowing at work in the opening lines,
we can also see their connection with the next discussion of A 1. Aristotle
explains that, though all animals share sensation, in some species memory
arises from sensation, and in human beings experience arises from memory
and, in turn, art and science from experience (980a27981a5). Not only sensation, but all the rest count as forms of knowing. Our valuing sensation is a
sign that we value knowing, but sensation is not the only type of knowing,
for out of sensation we derive memory, experience, and art and scientific
knowledge (). That we derive other forms of knowing from sensation is a sign that we value these forms of knowing, and our valuing them is
another sign that we value knowing in general. And Aristotle implies that
we value these other forms of knowing just as we value sensation, apart
from any utility they might have for action. For he claims that, in respect of
action, there is no difference between experience and art; indeed, someone
with experience is likely superior to someone who knows the art but lacks
experience (981a1215). He continues:
Nevertheless, we think that knowing ( ) and understanding (
) belong more to art than to experience, and we take it that artists
are wiser than people with experience (981a2426).
Apparently, we value art and science more than experience not because they
are more usefulthey are notbut because they are higher modes of knowing. The value we place on art and science is a second sign that we desire to
know, for how else could we explain our pursuit of art and science even when
they do not contribute to action?
This same theme, the value of knowledge apart from its utility, emerges
again later in the chapter when Aristotle discusses the discovery of arts:
when he discusses Aristotles argument from sensation (C 5-6), Aquinas speaks

of sight as the most knowing of the senses because of the judgments it makes
about sensible objects.
. In an intriguing article on the first two chapters of the Metaphysics, Seth Benardete
remarks, There is not necessarily any difference between the knowledge we
already have and the knowledge we want to possess (Wisdom and Philosophy,
Review of Metaphysics32 [1978]:206). Thus, our desire to know may be a desire to
possess what we already have. This, too, would explain why the desire to know
is not necessarily a desire for wisdom.
156
As more arts were discovered, and as some were for necessities, others for
life pursuits (), those who found the latter were always regarded
as wiser because their knowledge () was not for utility. When
all of the former had been prepared, branches of knowledge that are not
for pleasure or for necessity were discovered, first in places where there
was leisure. Therefore, the mathematical arts were first established in
Egypt, for there the priests were allowed leisure (981b1725).
Why was mathematics developed if not to satisfy some need? Simply because
it is a branch of knowledge, Aristotle answers, and because we desire to know.
Although he does not designate it as such, the development of mathematics seems
to be a third sign that we value knowing for its own sake, for without positing
this desire we could not explain why people with leisure pursue mathematics.
There are, then, at least three modes of knowing that Aristotle mentions
in A 1sensation, art or science (in general), and mathematicswhose noninstrumentality Aristotle stresses. The value we place on all of them for their
own sake supports the opening claim that we naturally desire knowing.
The problem is that they seem inconsistent with each other, for in order
to explain the development of art Aristotle maintains that it, rather than
sensation, leads us to knowledge, and in order to explain the development of
mathematics, Aristotle compares it with other arts pursued for their utility.
In other words, Aristotle assumes the following: (1) all sensation is valuable
for its own sake, (2) all arts and sciences are valuable for their own sakes,
and (3) mathematics and possibly other useless arts are valuable for their
own sake. But he supports (2) by denying (1), and (3) by denying (2). When
comparing the arts with sensation and experience, Aristotle claims the
arts are not useful; when comparing most of the arts with mathematics, he
claims they are useful.
. Aristotle seems to have in mind poetry and all the other arts that the Greeks
include under music (see Politics 7, 1341b3641).
. The opening claim, that man by nature desires to know, expresses just the sort
of universal that we arrive at through art and science. To assess itor even to
understand itwe need to grasp universals (man and knowing), but because
the claim is useless there can be no motive to assess it other than the very desire
to know that which it asserts. That we do grasp the claim and that we are concerned to know whether it is right are themselves indications of its truth. Thus,
the rest of A 1 amounts to a self-instantiation of its first sentence. On the other
hand, Aristotle can only support the first sentence by means of signs, for to offer
a more formal argument he would need just those universal truths that could
only have been acquired on the supposition of the truth of the first sentence.
. Benardete, Wisdom and Philosophy,20910, discusses the similarities and differences of the three arguments in a different way. He thinks that the second
stands on a different level from the others.
157
The apparent contradiction here is easily avoided by ascribing to Aristotle

a hierarchy of ways of knowing. In the broadest sense knowing includes
sensation as well as memory and what Aristotle terms experience. But there
are also higher ways of knowing. Arts and sciences constitute the second tier
of a hierarchy; at least, most of them do: Knowing . . . belongs more to art,
and... artists are wiser . . . . (981a2426). Mathematics and other such arts are
still wiser than the useful arts (981b1820); they either are or resemble wisdom,
knowing in the highest degree, the third tier. We can also see evidence of this
hierarchy in Aristotles remarks about utility. He claims that we delight in the
senses even apart from their usefulness (980a2223)thus acknowledging
that the senses can be useful. Likewise, he says that the arts are valued even
though they are not any more useful than experience (981a1215), but this
too assumes that arts can be useful. It is only the arts of the third tier of the
hierarchy that he declares to be utterly useless. Thus, Aristotle is right to
speak of the arts of the second tier as not useful because in relation to the first
tier of the hierarchy (sensation and experience) they are not useful; and he is
right to say also that they are usefulin relation to the third tier.
Part of the utility of sensation is that art and science arise from it (981a23),
and part of the utility of the useful arts is that they afford us the leisure
to pursue mathematics and other useless arts. Aristotles thought seems
to be that, although the natural desire to know is evident in the value we
place on our senses apart from their usefulness, it is also what leads us to
use the senses to arrive at art and knowledge and, even further, to develop
mathematics and wisdom. So it is that a universal human characteristic (cf.
2, 982a1112) manifests itself in the esoteric pursuit of first principles and
causes by those few who are able (981b2729). The hierarchy of modes of
knowing that Aristotle sketches here is also a hierarchy of species of animals
by their cognitive capacities (980a27981a1). At the pinnacle of the hierarchy
of knowledge is wisdom, and at the pinnacle of the hierarchy of knowers, at
. Aristotle describes the discovery of mathematics in the final portion of A 1
because he takes it to be the highest type of knowledge and, thereby, to have the
characteristics of wisdom. Mathematics remains a leading contender for wisdom
throughout the Metaphysics.
. It is surprising that Aristotle would stress the uselessness of mathematics. The
alternative Greek account of the development of mathematics in Egypt traces it to
the annual overflow of the Nile and the need to retrace property lines. Aristotle
must have in mind what Plato calls the philosophers arithmetic (Phil. 56d46).
Plato maintains that mathematics plays some role in all the artsthey would be
worthless without it (55e13)but this useful mathematics is what he calls the
arithmetic of the many, in contrast with pure and, thereby, useless arithmetic.
For the architect it suffices to know that the Pythagorean theorem is true; for the
mathematician only the proof of the theorem will suffice, and this proof has no
other use except for other mathematical proofs.
158
least in this chapter, is man. Insofar as wisdom serves no further end, it is

final and causally prior to what exists for its sake, namely, everything else
in the hierarchy of knowing.
For a study of one and many, what is most significant about A 1 is the way
that Aristotle defines the hierarchy. All animals have sensation, but some are
able to produce memory from it (980a2729). From many memories, some
animals are able to produce one experience; and, in a process that is uniquely
human, from many experiences, that is, the experiences of many similar things,
comes one universal that is known by art or science:
For men, experience comes to be from memory, for many memories
of the same thing make the capacity for one experience. . . . And art
comes to be whenever from many experiences (
) there arises one universal grasp in regard to like things
(980b28981a7).
Thus, a dog has experience of his master because he recognizes that the person
before him is the same person who fed and walked him earlier; the master
not only experiences this dog but other dogs as well, and he is able to discern
the universal character they all share as dogs. Knowledge, at each level, is a
one that has come from a many. Thus, Aristotle uses one/many as a device
to construct the hierarchy of types of knowing.
As the types of knowing stand to each other, so stand their objects: An art
grasps the one universal formula shared by many individuals, and as such
it stands on a higher level than the experience that grasps individuals separately; so, too, the universal is more knowable than the individual. And just
as an experience of a single individual is higher than the multiple memories
and sensations from which it emerges, the individual is more knowable than
a sensation. An experience is more knowledge than a sensation because its
object is more one; and so, too, grasping the universal, more properly than
experience of an individual, is termed knowing. Aristotle speaks clearly here
of knowledge or art as a grasp of one universal (981a57). Someone with
experience might realize that something was beneficial to Callias when he had
a certain disease, that it benefited Socrates when he had the same symptoms,
and the same for other individuals; but,
To determine that it benefited all who suffer from this illness, marked off
as one species ()such as the phlegmatic or the bilious who burn
with feveris a matter of art (981a712).
Thus, the doctor has knowledge insofar as he grasps the distinguishing feature
that allows one group of patients to benefit from a cure; he is able to see this
159
group as one species, rather than a collection of individuals. A bit later in the
text, Aristotle declares that someone with knowledge, in contrast with the
person of experience, knows the cause (981a28b2). This cause is, evidently,
the character of the species in respect of which it is an illness and, thereby,
the contrary character possessed by the medicine that will cure the illness.
We can infer that Aristotle equates universal, species, and cause: to know this
universal is to know the cause.
Could this be right? Perhaps Aristotle means to say that the one who knows
recognizes both the universal class and the cause that operates within that
class. Indeed, what else could mark the difference between knowledge and
experience except that the latter grasps only the class and the former the class
and the cause? As plausible as it may seem, this way of drawing the distinction is not correct. It is not supported by A 1, and it is contrary to Aristotles
usual notions of science. Although Aristotle does not explain the connection
between cause, universal, and species here, he claims often that knowledge is
of the universal and that to know is to know the cause. Universal and cause
are somehow identified.
Reflection on Aristotles medical example indicates what he probably means.
Anyone can learn to recognize a bilious person from experience because the
excess bile jaundices his skin; and with more experience, one can come to
recognize that bilious individuals who are feverish can be effectively treated
with a cureyellow dock root or scammony?but that this cure does not help
phlegmatic individuals who are feverish. Anyone who could distinguish the
bilious from the phlegmatic and was aware of the effects of scammony would
be able to treat the former effectively. So much for experience. What a doctor
has is the knowledge that the biliousness signifies a liver that is producing
excessive bile and that scammony removes the bile and slows the livers functions. He knows the cause in the sense that he grasps the defining character
of the class for which the cure is effective. In grasping this single character,
he also knows what it will take to counteract its effects, namely, an agent that
has the contrary effect. If, that is, the illness stems from producing an excess
of bile, the path to a cure is through some potion that has properties contrary
to those of bile. In Aristotles terms, the doctor understands the disease and its
cure because he grasps the character that makes them belong to one species,
in our case, the species of those whose livers over-activity produces excess
. See Owens, Doctrine of Being,16063. According to Owens, Aristotles equation
has three terms: cause, universal, and form; and he holds that form and species
are ontologically different, though the same Greek term () is translated both
ways. In my view, Aristotle is speaking about neither a proper form nor a proper
species when he speaks of those who are bilious or phlegmatic. Since his contrast
here is between grasping these people either individually or universally, I prefer
species to form.
160
bile; and this character is a cause insofar as it accounts for the biliousness
of the patient as well as the contrary effect of scammony on him. The single
defining character of the species (producing excess bile) cannot be directly
sensed, but it accounts for or causes what is directly sensed. It is what the
doctor knows.
One interesting feature of this example is the way that knowledge involves
a narrowing of scope. The doctor knows that a subgroup of the feverish are
bilious, and he knows why and what will help them. Part of his knowledge
lies in the recognition that different sorts of diseases manifest themselves in
similar ways; he needs to be able to narrow the scope of his concern to the
appropriate species. If we applied this example to other instances of knowledge, we would expect knowledge to involve a fine-grained grasp of some
portion of a genus. As Aristotle says here, we value seeing because it makes
many distinctions (980a2627). However, if to know more and more requires
making ever finer distinctions within classes, then the better our knowledge
is, the more refined it is and the further away from the kind of comprehensive
grasp of everything that metaphysics should be. Of course, the fine-grained
knowledge is still knowledge of a universal, but there are other, wider universals; and if metaphysics knows the causes of all things, it should know these
wider universals as well. So Aristotles example directs us toward causes that
are higher but also narrower than others, and thereby suggests an issue that is
central to the possibility of an Aristotelian science of metaphysics: inasmuch
as the higher the knowledge, the narrower its scope, it seems impossible that
the highest science could also be the most universal.
To understand this problem we need to appreciate standard Aristotelian
science. In general, both a subject matter and its cause are universals with
the same scope, and the narrower universal has a cause that is higher than
the cause of the broader universal. Consider, for example, the Aristotelian
science of zoology. Its scope is the genus of animals, and it aims to know the
cause of this genus. This cause is the nature (or essence) in respect of which
each instance of this genus is an animal. Thus, the nature has the same scope
as the genus. The decisive mark of this nature is that, in respect of it, the per
se attributes of animal are demonstrated to belong to each instance of this
genus (Posterior Analytics A 7, 75a39b3).10 This demonstrative knowledge
10. Since Aristotle maintains in A 1 that both arts and sciences involve knowledge of
the universal, the same or a similar account needs to apply to both. We have seen
that one of Aristotles examples of universal knowledge is the art of medicine. There
are a couple of important differences between arts and sciences. First, the subject
genus of a science is a nature or what can be treated as an ousia. The subject of an
art is generally an artifact or what can be produced or altered artificially, such as
health or biliousness in a body, or something that can be treated as a genus even
161
is paradigmatically expressed in a Barbara syllogismall M is P, all S is M,

therefore, all S is Pwhere the middle term M is the essential nature, the first
term S is the genus, and the last term P is the per se attribute. The conclusion
ascribes the attribute to the genus, and the middle term, the nature, is the
(formal) cause of this ascription. All three terms in the syllogism have the
same scope; they are commensurately universal as the old Oxford translation put it.11 Aristotelian sciences are typically embedded in each other,
and within zoology there are sciences of mammals and primates. Just as
the broader genus has a nature in respect of which its per se attributes are
demonstrated of it, the species of this genus and their specieseach a genus
in respect of its own specieseach has its own nature in respect of which
its per se attributes belong to it. The narrower the genus, the richer its nature
and the more and more particular attributes that belong in respect of this
nature. Indeed, the attributes of a broader genera can be demonstrated from
a narrower nature, though Aristotle warns that it is not scientific to do so
(5, 74a2535). In general, then, it is the nature with the narrower scope that
is the higher cause because it is through it that we know more attributes of
individual instances.
Metaphysics does not fit this standard picture.12 Aristotle argues here that
wisdom is a knowledge of first causes and principles (981b2829; 982a23).
We would expect such causes to be the narrowest generic natures; but there
are many such natures. Which of them are the first causes? Aristotle is
claiming that wisdom is distinguished from other sciences by its not being
for the sake of the others and their being for its sake: it is their final cause.
It should follow that the object of wisdom is that nature that is not for the
sake of other natures. However, in order to decide which nature meets this
qualification, metaphysics must know something about all natures, and that
means that the knowledges that treat these natures, that is all other sciences,
must somehow come under its scope. However, there is no direct connection
between wisdom and a science like medicine, and knowledge of the former
does not allow one to demonstrate essential attributes of the latter. Hence,
the science of the highest causes is unable to demonstrate attributes of that
of which it is the cause or, at least, it cannot do so in the way that a science
though it changes (E. N. Z 6, 1140b351141a1). Second, at least one cause of an art,
the efficient cause, lies outside the genus (4, 1140a615).
11. G. R. G. Mures translation of Posterior Analytics A 4 (e.g., 73b2627), in vol. 1 of
The Works of Aristotle, ed. W. D. Ross (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1928), captures
Aristotles meaning better than the original text.
12. Neither does medicine, as we discover in 2 (1003b14). So the comparison of
metaphysics to medicine here in A 1 turns out to be more significant than this
chapter indicates.
162
that knows a generic nature can demonstrate attributes of the genus. This is
why metaphysics is unlike other Aristotelian sciences. Whereas the generic
nature known by any other Aristotelian science belongs to every instance
of the genus, the first causes sought here do not belong to everything that
falls within the scope of metaphysics. Because the first causes, the causes
of all beings, are not common to all beings, Aristotles implicit equation of
universal and cause would seem to break downand to break down in just
the case that he advances it to explain. Perhaps, indeed, just this accounts for
Aristotles saying here, separately, that someone with knowledge knows the
universal and that he knows the cause, but not that to know the universal
is to know the cause. Later, in book E, Aristotle reinstates this last equation
by broadening the notion of universal (1, 1026a2932). But we are getting
ahead of ourselves.
In A 1, Aristotle argues that because of our natural desire to know, we
strive for more and higher kinds of knowledge. But he represents higher
knowledge as stemming from more distinctions and refinements. The more
refined knowledge is less universal in itself. Since, in Aristotelian science, it
is the generic nature that serves as the cause for the genus own attributes
(that is, as the middle term of the Barbara syllogism), the more refined knowledge, that is, the knowledge of a narrower universal, ordinarily has the least
causal scope. A science that knows all things, as metaphysics is supposed
to do, would apparently not be the most refined and highest science; and,
paradoxically, a science that is the highest could not know the cause of all
things. The challenge for Aristotle is to explain how metaphysics can know
all things universally and also be the most refined and highest knowledge.
This problem is not raised explicitly in A 1, but the discrepancy between
Aristotles fine-grained example of the highest knowledge, mathematics, and
his intimation that the higher the science the more universal the knowledge
suggests it to the reader.
We have seen that Aristotle uses the one/many device to justify positioning knowledge above sensation (or experience) on a hierarchy. Does he also
employ the one/many device to justify positioning metaphysics and any other
utterly useless branch of knowledge above the useful arts and sciences? There
is no hint that wisdom, as he calls metaphysics here, comes from many
other sciences in the way that an experience comes from sensations. Wisdom
does not come from the other sciences at all; rather, they meet human needs
so that wisdom can emerge of its own accord. Nor could Aristotle draw the
same sort of comparison between a particular science and wisdom that he
draws between medical experience and medical knowledge: knowing a
particular science does not enable one to act in the same way the wise man
acts. Indeed, having wisdom does not lead its possessor to any action at all.
163
In short, whereas sensation and experience are what Kant calls constitutive
principles of, respectively, experience and knowledge, the particular sciences
are not themselves and do not supply constitutive principles for wisdom.
Nonetheless, wisdom does function as what Kant would call a regulative
principle of the other sciences, and here it is important that they are many
and it is one. The subordinate sciences must be many because there are multiple human needs that they must meet in order that a person can pursue
wisdom. The causes known by wisdom are, thereby, also the causes of the
subordinate sciences. Medicine, for example, aims at health, but because the
healthy person is able to pursue wisdom, medicine also aims, indirectly, at
wisdom. Hence, medicine and all subordinate sciences have multiple (final)
causes. Inasmuch as the first causes known by wisdom also function as causes,
somehow, for all the subordinate sciences, these causes are more one than the
causes within the subordinate sciences, and the latter, serving some higher
end, are themselves not fully one.
The Academys views on the primacy of mathematics, as Aristotle understands them, would suffice to justify Aristotles implicitly suggesting mathematics as a candidate for metaphysics in A 1, as he does when he speaks of it
as what people discovered when their needs were met (981b2025). However,
the candidacy of mathematics is also supported by the one/many relation of
the first causes to the other causes that Aristotle has been assuming in this
chapter. These other sciences rely on measures of some sort, and the primary
measure is the unit. Were mathematics wisdom, the one, the first principle
of mathematics, would be the highest cause and first principle of everything
(cf. Philebus 55e13), and other causes would be pluralities.
A 1 does not endorse the candidacy of mathematics for wisdom, nor does
it even assert that wisdom exists. Its aim is rather to determine some of the
features of highest causes and of the science that would know them. These
highest causes must not only be principles of other beings, including human
beings; but they must also account for knowing and, indeed, our seeking to
know them.13 And this relation between the highest causes that are the object
13. It is sometimes suggested that the highest principles envisaged in A 1 are logical
principles, such as non-contradiction; see, for example, Klaus Brinkmann, Aristoteles
allgemeine und spezielle Metaphysik, Peripatoi (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1979),1519.
(Although Irwin does not endorse this view, it is consistent with his notion that
Aristotle discovered metaphysics when he found he could prove the principle
of non-contradiction, Terence H. Irwin, Aristotles Discovery of Metaphysics,
Review of Metaphysics31 [1977]:21029.) In A 1 Aristotle is quite clear that what is
universal must be a cause. What is most universal should be the cause of all things,
including experience. Non-contradiction is a principle, not a cause; it is necessary
for experience but neither a proper part nor an end of experience.
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of the highest knowledge and the other things known, the other types of
knowing, and the knowing of these causes is, again, a one/many relation. A 1
is the first step in the long journey to find these highest causes, and Aristotle
continues to refine this picture of wisdom in the next chapter. It is important,
though, to see that he begins with assumptions about unity and that he uses
these assumptions to determine what wisdom must be like if it exists, without
assuming that it does.
This is not to say that Aristotle himself had doubts about the existence of
the science when he wrote A 1no more than Descartes truly doubted the
existence of God when he wrote down the first meditation. It is simply that
Aristotles inquiry has not yet established the existence of the science nor fully
characterized its nature.
A 2 continues the characterization of wisdom that A 1 began. Aristotle identifies six characteristics that we commonly ascribe to the wise. The wise man:
(1) knows all things as far as possible, (2) is able to know difficult things, (3) is
more accurate, and (4) is more able to teach the causes (982a814). The wisdom
he has is (5) chosen for itself, for knowledge, more than for its consequences.
And it (6) rules over what is subordinate; for it is not ordered but sets in order,
and a wise man does not obey another, but the less wise obeys him (a1419).
Even in his initial descriptions of these characteristics (982a819), Aristotle
contrasts wisdom with the two subordinate types of knowing mentioned in A
1, sensation and the other sciences: (1) Knowledge of all things is not knowledge of the individual (982a910)sensation, of course, is of the individual
(cf. A 1, 981a1517); (2) knowledge of difficult things is not sensation, for this
latter is common and easy (982a1112); (5) the knowledge that is chosen for
its own sake is not knowledge chosen for its consequences (982a16)as
are, clearly, the arts and sciences on the second tier; and (6) the knowledge
that orders is distinguished from that which is ordered (982a1718), again
the arts and sciences on the second tier. Aristotle omits (3) accuracy and (4)
teachability from these initial remarks, though in A 1 he had mentioned in
passing the teachability of art and science in order to distinguish them from
experience (981b710).
Aristotle follows these initial descriptions with brief discussions of each
characteristic (982a19b7), the conclusion of which is:
From everything said, the name that is sought [wisdom] falls to the
same science; for it is necessary that this be a science that investigates
the first principles and causes . . . (982b710).
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The same science is one science: that is, there is a single science that has all
six characteristics. Why would anyone doubt that wisdom designates one
science with all these characteristics?
At first glance, the characteristics seem to be antithetical. The first requires
that everything be known, the second that only difficult things be known;
the fifth implies that wisdom has no further consequence, the sixth that it has
significant consequences. The issue here is how these seemingly incompatible
characteristics can belong to one science. This is an instance of a one/many
problem. If all six characteristics are indeed characteristics of wisdom, then
in order for the science of wisdom to exist, all six must belong to one science.
Why should we think that they do belong to one science?
Once we understand what is at issue, we can appreciate Aristotles remarks
in this text. He supports the inclusion of all the characteristics in one science
by arguing that each belongs to a science that knows what is most universal, namely, the first principles and causes.14 His reasoning is as follows: (1)
Someone who knows what is most universal knows somehow all things that
come under it, and (2) what is most universal is most difficult to know because
it is farthest from the senses (982a2125). (3) Knowledge of first things is most
accurate apparently because they are simpler than what is said from addition (982a2528). (4) The wise man is most able to teach because he knows
the causes of each thing, and to teach is to convey the causes (982a2830). (5)
Wisdom is chosen for itself most of all because it treats what is most knowable,
and anyone choosing a science (knowledge) for its own sake would choose
what is most knowable. First principles and causes are most knowable because
all other things are known through them (982a30b4). (6) Finally, wisdom
deserves to rule because it knows the good for all, for the good is a cause.15
Arguments 12 identify wisdom as the science that knows what is most
universal; arguments 46 identify it as the science of highest principles and
causes. It follows that a science of what is most universal and also the first
principle and causeif, that is, what is most universal is the first principle and
causewould have all the characteristics of wisdom. The assumption here,
as in A 1, is that what is most universal is the highest cause, but Aristotle has
not argued it. Also, we can see a rough correspondence between the last four
arguments and the four causes, respectively, material, efficient, formal, and
14. Owens, Doctrine of Being,16566, claims that Aristotles subtle transition from
most universal to the science more investigative of the causes is what justifies
the ascription of the characteristics to wisdom. He infers that Aristotle assumes
that the two descriptions are synonymous.
15. The crucial point that the good is a cause is actually stated (at 982b10) after the
conclusion of the entire argument, but it supports only the sixth character, not
all of them as its position might suggest.
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final. But Aristotle does not alert us to this schema, nor does he apparently
exploit it.
Of all these arguments only the third is problematic. Accuracy was not mentioned in A 1, and it is not immediately clear why it should be ascribed to wisdom. Aristotle reasons that wisdom is the most accurate science because:
The most accurate sciences are those that are, most of all, about the first
[things]; for those [sciences] from fewer [principles] are more accurate
than what is said from addition, as arithmetic [is more accurate] than
geometry (982a2528).
Is geometry inaccurate in the sense that it makes mistakes? Surely not.
Here accurate describes sciences whose subjects are simple, not complex.16
Arithmetic is more accurate than geometry because its objects areas we
saw earlier (2.4)more one. By Aristotles analogy, wisdom would be more
accurate than other sciences because its object, the first cause, is more one
than their objects, things that are by addition. Indeed, since wisdom is the
most accurate of the sciences, its object should be most one, apparently, even
more one than the unit.
Except perhaps for its Platonic background (cf. Phil. 56c59c), it is unclear
why Aristotle includes accuracy among the requirements for wisdom.17 Let me
propose that when he claims that the more accurate sciences are those that are
about first things, Aristotle means to contrast the objects known by one science
with objects known by many sciences and, thereby, known incompletely by
one science. Wisdom is the only science that knows first things. The reason is
not simply that wisdom, as the highest science, is the only science treating the
highest things, but that what is highest has no principle beyond itself. Hence,
the highest things can only be their own principles and causes, and they are
16. See also An. Po. A 27, 87a3137 and the remarks on this passage in Thomas Little
Heath, Mathematics in Aristotle (New York: Garland, 1980),6467. Aristotle uses
accurate in just this way at M 3, 1078a913. So, too, compare De Anima A 1,
402a14 with 5, 411b512.
17. See Owenss remarks on this term, Doctrine of Being, 16466 (text and nn. 34, 36).
Benardete, Wisdom and Philosophy,21213, proposes that geometry is less
accurate because insofar as some lengths are incommensurable, they are only
potentially knowable. He refers to Aristotles remarks on the inaccuracy of the
object of ethics to explain the accuracy of wisdom. However, the two cases are
different. The central reason that ethics is inaccurate is the way its objects are
changing; we can only be accurate aboutwe can only have knowledge ofwhat
is either unchanging or what changes in entirely regular ways (cf. Philebus 59ab;
An. Po. A 6, 74b56). Since the objects of geometry do not change, this ground for
inaccuracy does not apply.
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known by the single science of highest causes.18 In contrast, every other thing
is known both by the first science, which somehow knows all things, and by
the science that has it as its proper object. Thus, all other objects are said
from addition in the sense that their principles must be multiple. Hence, the
sciences of these other things are less accurate in the sense that these sciences
cannot know the entirety of their objects. In other words, because any object
that is not among the first things will have features due to the first cause along
with features due to its own nature, scientific knowledge of it can never be
complete or, consequently, accurate. The science of first things is most accurate
because it can, in principle, know its objects completely.
Support for this interpretation lies in its allowing us to make good sense
of Aristotles claim that arithmetic is more accurate than geometry. Since the
principles of arithmetic also apply to geometric objects, the science of geometry
needs to rely on and refer to arithmetic in studying its own objects. To mention
one example, the theorem in geometry that any straight-sided plane figure can
be divided into a number of triangles that is two less than the number of its
sides relies upon arithmetic in its formulation and proof. Hence, geometry is
less accurate than arithmetic in the sense that it relies on more principles,
some of which come from another science.
Inasmuch as the science of the first things is most accurate because first
things are most simple, a science whose object is the one itself would seem
to be the most simple and accurate of all. The one itself, if it exists, should,
then, be a strong candidate for the first cause. But Aristotles discussion here
is not about particular candidates but the characteristics of wisdom that a
successful candidate would need to preserve. By exploring the characteristics
of wisdom, Aristotle distinguishes, in effect, what it is that makes something
a first principle from the things that are candidates for the first principles.
Things are candidates for first principles if the science of them is, among other
characteristics, most accurate, and I have been arguing here that this criterion
would be met by anything that is simple or one. If this is right, then to claim
that wisdom is most accurate is to claim that its objects are each most one.
If wisdom is to be teachable, it will also need to have objects that are one
because, as we saw, one is the principle of knowledge ( 6, 1016b2021). With
this, we can see the structure of the entire passage (982a4b10): the first two
arguments show that the object of wisdom must be most universal, the next
two that it is most one, and the final two that it is the highest cause. A science of wisdom would have all these characteristics if its objects were most
18. Aristotles text is ambiguous about first (982a2526): does he refer to first
things or to first causes? It makes no difference because the first things are the
first causes.
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universal, first causes, and ones. In other words, each first cause must be most
universal and most one. Nothing in the argument excludes the possibility
that there would be more than one such cause, though he has not yet shown
that such a cause exists. A 2 describes what wisdom would be like if it exists,
without showing that it does.
The rest of A 2 distinguishes wisdom from the productive sciences (982b11
983a23). Wisdom begins in wonder and aims only at knowing; it is not for a
use of any sort (982b1921). The other sciences are more necessary but not
better (983a1011). This passage continues the discussion of A 1 by elaborating
on the distinction between the second and third tiers of knowing, that is, the
distinction between other sciences and wisdom (cf. 981b1317). Here Aristotle
makes the point he suggested earlier: the desire for knowledge or, equivalently,
the desire to avoid ignorance spurs us to seek the highest type of knowing
purely for its own sake, especially when our needs are met (982b1228). Because
this knowledge has no end outside itself, it is fit for a god, and there is even
some question whether it can be a human possession. Philosophy begins in
wonder and ends when we attain knowledge and stand in the opposite and
better state; at that point, we can only wonder that something had seemed
wondrous before (983a1121). Does one who attains wisdom lose the striving
for knowledge that belongs to human nature (1, 980a1) and become a god,
or is it rather that such knowledge is beyond our human abilities? Aristotle
does not say, but he claims that wisdom is divine both in belonging to the
gods and in being about the gods (983a47). He might have said it is divine
in that subject and object are one. Instead, he suggests its reflexive character
by saying that wisdom is for the sake of itself and, thus, a knowledge that is
free (982b2627). This reflexivity signals that wisdom has a unity that other
sciences lack, a unity that also separates it from human life. Aristotles identifying a god as the proper possessor of wisdom seems to mark a departure
from A 1 where man was at the top of the hierarchy of knowers and wisdom
at the top of the hierarchy of human ways of knowing.
As I said, Aristotles description of wisdom in A 12 does not prove that it
exists. The existence of this science is, for the reader, the biggest issue in these
chapters. To know that it exists we need to know that there are first principles
and highest causes of all things, and that these can be known by one science.
If wisdom can demonstrate that first, universal causes exist, it will be demonstrating its own existence. It is part of the special status of wisdom that
it is concerned with its own existence; every other science simply assumes
the existence of whatever it seeks to know (cf. E 1, 1025b1618).19 This selfdemonstration is still another dimension of metaphysics reflexivity, and it
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marks this science as more one than the others. As we will see later, it is no
accident that its subject is its own being (existence) as well as being in general and, likewise, its own unity as well as unity: the science is and is one by
knowing something that is and is one. (Much later, Aristotle will identify the
highest cause as the thinking of thinking [ 9, 1074b3335].) We will see that
this science is one because it knows itself.
Since a highest cause must be one, and since the science that knows
it, metaphysics, would need to be one science if it exists, the existence of
metaphysics is intrinsically tied to one/many questions. Aristotle does not
always pose the issues he treats as one/many problemsinterpretation is
frequently requiredbut he does so more often than is generally recognized,
and he frequently discusses issues posed in different terms as if they were
one/many issues.
Since the science of wisdom is the science of highest causes, and since we do
not, at this stage of the inquiry, know what these highest causes are, we would
expect Aristotle to inquire into the nature of the highest causes. The rest of
book A and all of book do examine the causes, but rather than asking what
the causes are, both books inquire into the number of the causes. In particular, Aristotle is concerned with whether there are more types of causes than
the four described in the Physics, and to answer this question he examines
the accounts of the causes advanced by his philosophical predecessors. By
showing that all their causes fit under his four types, Aristotle confirms not
only his contention that there are four causes, but also his understanding
of what those kinds are (7, 988b1618). In this way the question about the
number of causes is closely tied to the question of their nature, as I noted
earlier (1.1).
Material Cause
Aristotle discusses each cause in turn in A 37 or, rather, he considers instances
of each type of cause. Within each type, he distinguishes those philosophers who
posit one cause from those who posit many. Thus, discussing material cause, he
speaks first of philosophers, such as Thales and Heraclitus, who advance one matter (3, 983b20984a7), and then of others, such as Empedocles and Anaxagoras,
who advance many material causes (984a716). Next (in A 4), he discusses the
moving or efficient cause, beginning with thinkers who advance one efficient
cause (984b2331)only Hesiod is mentionedand continuing with those who
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advance many efficient causes (984b31985b20; esp. 985a2931). In A 5, Aristotle

reverses the order, discussing first Pythagorean pluralists (985b23986b8) and
then Eleatic monists (986b8987a2). Although these last thinkers speak about
essence and definitions (987a1922), Aristotle thinks that they treat their causes
more like material causes because they think that the causes are the elements of
things (986b67). To Plato, he credits formal causes; interestingly, he thinks Plato
advances both one formal causethe oneand many formal causesthe forms
(6, 988a1011; 7, 988b46). That one/many is Aristotles organizing principle in
his discussions of material and efficient causes is confirmed in the summary
of his discussion that he gives in A 5:
From the things said and from the wise who have held council with the
argument, we have grasped these [causes]: from the first [philosophers]
[1] the bodily principle, . . . , some saying that there is one, others that
there are many bodily principles, both [groups], though, positing these
as material principles; and from other [philosophers] this cause and
also [2] that from which motion comesfrom some one [such moving
principle], from others two (987a29).
This well-known division of philosophers into monists and pluralists seems,
at first glance, merely a convenient organizing device. But it may have a
deeper philosophical significance. Aristotle seems to think that many of his
predecessors advance certain things as causes because of their supposed unity.
Consider, for example, his description of the Eleatic position as a broadening
of the position advanced by (other) exponents of material causes:
Some who were following this method from the beginning and saying
that the substrate is one had no difficulties with themselves, but some
who were saying [that the substrate is] one, as if overcome by this inquiry,
said that the one ( ) that is, the whole of nature, is unchangeable
not only in respect of generation and destruction (for all agreed on this
long ago) but also in respect of all other change. Of those saying that all
is one, no one succeeded in grasping such a cause [that is, the efficient
cause] except perhaps Parmenides . . . (3, 984a27b3).
Thus, not only Parmenides and other Eleatics think that the first principle
is one; those who advance material causes also insist on the unity of each
such causeeven if they recognize many of themand for the same reason:
insofar as something is one, it is immune from change. They each advance
types of matter as the cause because they suppose that the principle must be
one, and they have arguments for one type of matters being more one than
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another. Aristotle thinks that even those philosophers who advance more than
one material cause apparently do not dispute that each cause is one and not
subject to generation and destruction, for he writes in the quoted passage, all
agreed on this long ago . . . . A few lines later he repeats the notion that matter
persists through change (983b617) and, then, adds, For there must be some
nature, one or many, from which other things come to be while preserving
that one thing (983b1718). There may be multiple matters; if each persists
through change, then each is one.
In what sense does matter persist through change if other things come to
be from it? In A 3 Aristotle locates the material cause in the form () of
the matter (983b7; 984a18; 985a32). This form persists despite generation and
destruction because matter has like parts ( ), like water and earth,
so that generation and destruction consist only of combination and separation
(984a910; a1316; G. C. A 1, 314a18b1). In other words, things come to be from
matter by some sort of aggregation or separation of like material parts; so that
the form of those parts is never altered, and things differ from each other in
the quantity and, perhaps, the arrangement of their matter.
This description of the material cause closely resembles what 6 calls one
in substrate. There Aristotle claims that something is one because the form
of its substrate is indivisible ( ) in
respect of sensationwhich means, I argued earlier, that the things form persists despite division; as, for example, water remains water after being divided
(1016a1724; cf. 3, 1014a2634; G. C. A 1, 314b18). Similarly, water remains what
it is even if it is consolidated with other water. Furthermore, the distinction
between one in proximate substrate and one in ultimate substrate that 6
mentions helps somewhat to explain some of the difference between monists
and pluralists. Monists identify the ultimate substrate as the matter; whereas
pluralists like Anaxagoras take proximate substrates to be matter, and they,
therefore, endorse a plurality of material causes. Empedocles is interesting
because he thinks matter must be an ultimate substrate, but he recognizes a
plurality of ultimate substrates.
What is really important for Aristotles discussion in A 3 is that all these
philosophers assume that the first cause must be one in a specific way, namely,
one in substrate. We can be sure that he thinks the Ionian philosophers are
advancing different candidates for what is most one because later on, when
he asks, what is one?, he mentions as possible answers material causes that
they advance (B 4, 1001a919; I 2, 1053b916). Of course, we cannot be certain
that the Ionian philosophers who advance material causes do so because
they regard the matter as one, but that hardly matters for understanding the
Metaphysics. There should, though, be no doubt that Aristotle thinks that they
advance first causes because they take them to be one. Aristotle has not yet
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laid out the different ways one is said; that does not come until book , and
there he is drawing on book As discussions. Although we do not need 6s
discussion to understand his account of material causes, we can see immediately from 6 that A 3 is treating the material as a one, in particular, a one in
substrate. Considering the differences between various material causes that A
3 chronicles, we can also see that the philosophers who advance this type of
cause all agree that it must be one and that the locus of their disagreement is
which matter is most one in substrate and whether there are many such matters. For Aristotles Ionians, whatever else the principle is, it must be one.
In this context, Aristotles introduction of Parmenides and the Eleatics into
the discussion of material cause is most interesting. Instead of proposing a
particular matter as one, they get to work on the form of one, that is, on the
notion of what it means to be one. As Aristotle claims in the passage quoted
above, they seem to recognize the primacy of the unity assumption and,
therefore, to insist that the first cause is not a matter that is one, but a one
itself. Aristotle imagines them reasoning that not only is the matters form
not altered by generation and destruction, that is, by division and consolidation, but no change at all could alter this form. Inasmuch as any change
involves somethings acquiring a form, it follows either that there can be
no change or that the only form that could be acquired is the form that the
matter already possesses. However, in insisting on such a strict unity of the
matter, Parmenides advances a substrate that cannot function as a substrate.
In stressing the essential character that makes something a matter, unity, he
arrives at a cause that is not material, the one itself. In effect, he shaved away
the matter from the material principle leaving only the unity all the Ionians
agreed to be essential to any cause.
It is surprising that, in the passage quoted above, right after speaking about
those who reject not only generation and corruption, but all motion, Aristotle
claims that Parmenides recognizes what he terms moving causes, that is,
efficient causes! The apparent contradiction is usually dismissed by assigning
the efficient causes to the way of seeming and the one to the way of being.
I think that 6 contains a richer explanation. According to the passage from
A 3 quoted above, Ionians say the one is immobile () in respect of
generation and destruction. We know from 6 that this means that no division alters the matters form. Obviously, that does not mean that there are no
divisions or destructions, but only that what results from division is the same.
If Parmenides extends this Ionian notion to a denial that anything moves in
respect of any sort of change, his point would be that regardless of what sort
of change the thing undergoes, it remains the same, namely one. Hence, all is
one like the mass of a well-rounded sphere, not in the sense that there is no
process of division and so no two individuals, but rather in that whatever the
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process of change, the result is the same. Every individual has the same form,
unity. What Parmenides calls fire and earth are things that appear to serve
as the moving causes of dividing and congealing (cf. Phys. A 5, 188a2022),
even though what results from these processes is unaltered and retains its
unityindeed, it remains the same as the agents themselves. And if the process yields no change, then it is apparent rather than real. Aristotle presents
Parmenides as speaking about a substrate, but, again, because Parmenides
deprives it of all material characters, it can only be known by reason. In this
way, the form of the substrate comes to resemble the form that Plato declares
to be one.20
Efficient Causes
Let us turn briefly to Aristotles discussion of efficient cause. He does not say
that something is an efficient cause because it is one. Indeed, the efficient causes
he discusses here come in pairs, and he always discusses them in conjunction
with material causes. Because matter persists through generation and destruction, because matter is one, there must be something that acts on matter to
alter its form (or, in the case of Parmenides, to rearrange its parts), and this is
the moving or efficient cause (3, 984a1825). It is ironic that it is the unity of the
matter and its consequent inertness and unalterability that make it necessary
to posit an additional external cause: it is the oneness of matter that makes a
plurality of causes necessary. The efficient cause is responsible for giving matter a new form. There are two directions involved in the process, acquiring the
new form and losing it. Since, again, the matter is inert, efficient causes come
in pairs that are tied to the direction of matters transformation. Appropriately,
the efficient causes Aristotle discusses most in A 4 are love and strife, the causes
of the worlds being one and many (see 985a2329). The oneness of the world
that love causes cannot be the oneness that belongs to its material substrate,
for the matter persists in the same sensible form in the composite; it is already
one in substrate before the cause acts on it. What kind of one does love make
the matter? Can the unified world perhaps be one in proximate substrate (in
addition to being, because of its matter, one in ultimate substrate)? This could
not be because what is one in respect of any substrate persists through change,
whereas the unified world does not persist when the other efficient cause, strife
acts upon it. Nor could the world become one in formula because, even when
unified, it is not indivisible in thought. Most likely, the unity acquired by all
things through love is continuity. Under the influence of love, all things act in
20. Aristotle may have this resemblance in mind when he denigrates the Platonic
forms as sensible forms with the word itself added (Z 16, 1040b3034).
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concord. Their motion is indivisible. Ironically, though, if the world did become
truly continuous, it would cease to move because it would have nothing to move
it. Empedocles avoids the problem by insisting that strife somehow remains
outside the unity caused by love. Although Empedocles posits a cosmic cycle,
it depends on an interaction of two efficient causes; but there is no additional
cause to regulate them and insure their continued coordinated waxing and
waning. Similarly, the atomists allow for matter to be in motion because they
allow for changes in the positions and arrangements of the atoms, but they do
not explain motions origin: In regard to motion, where it comes from and how
it belongs to beings, these [atomists], like the others [positing efficient causes],
lazily let it go (A 4, 985b1920). These thinkers recognize efficient and material
causes, but they do not have them work together to account for the ordered,
unified cosmos.
It is now easy to see why some thinkers posited multiple pairs of efficient
causes. Besides the unified world, there are other unities, each one by continuity. If these unities come about through distinct causes, there will be multiple
efficient causes or, rather, multiple pairs of efficient causesone moving matter
toward a unity, the other moving it away from unity. Here, too, the unities
would be one by continuity.
Formal Causes
We might expect Aristotle to introduce formal causes by pointing to the unified configurations that result from the action of efficient causes. Perhaps the
reason he does not take this path is that such configurations would be material;
they would be structures that make matter continuous and, thereby, one by
continuity. The formal cause is, rather, one in formula. The only philosophers
to whom Aristotle ascribes it are Plato and his followers, though he credits
Socrates with inquiring into definitions (6, 987b14; M 4, 1078b1734) and the
Pythagoreans with advancing similar principles (A 6, 987b1013, b2125). It is
Plato, however, who recognizes that sensibles could not be defined because
they are always changing and who, consequently, separates the object of
definition (987b47; 1078b3032). This separation distinguishes Platos forms
from the Pythagorean numbers (987b2932). Aristotle is reluctant to ascribe
formal causes to the Pythagoreans because, although they sought and defined
the what it is of things, they identified the substrate as the ousia of the thing
(5, 987a1925); thus, they take numbers to be material principles as well as
affections and states (986a1521).21 The latter are ambiguous: they could be
21. The Pythagoreans identify numbers with discrete points on a line, and the line is
continuous, a character of material things. We saw earlier (2.4) that Aristotle places
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formal causes, but the Pythagoreans do not separate them sufficiently from
the matter. Thus, it is because Plato does separate his forms that Aristotle
credits him with recognizing two distinct causes, that of the what it is and
that in respect of the matter (6, 988a810).
An extensive literature has sought to mine A 6 for information on Platos
doctrine of participation and, especially, his unwritten doctrines. However,
in its immediate context, the most striking feature of the chapter is Aristotles
apparent insistence that it is Platos separation of the forms that makes it likely
that he is advancing formal causes. The point is particularly surprising because
Aristotles own formal causes are not separate. We should note, however, that
Aristotles term for separate in this chapter is besides (987b30),
rather than the stronger apart (cf. M 4, 1078b3132), and that he
sometimes uses this term of his own forms to signify their distinctness from
matter (H 3, 1043b1013; 6, 1045a10) though not in contexts where their distinctness would imply an actual separation (e.g., Z 8, 1033b2628; 13, 1038b33). In
A 6, at least, Aristotle is praising Platos recognition of forms besides sensibles
as the basis of his recognizing formal cause as a distinct type of cause.
Significantly, for us, he supports his assertion that Plato recognizes both
formal and material causes with a very important and interesting claim that
Ross and Jaeger put in parentheses in their editions of the Greek text: for the
forms are the causes of the nature ( ) of the others, and the one of
the forms (6, 988a1011).22 He obviously means that Plato takes the forms to
be formal causes of sensibles and the one to be the formal cause of the forms. In
the next chapter, he makes nearly the same point differently when he says that
Plato and the Academy provide the forms as the essence of each of the others,
and the one as the essence of the forms (7, 988b46). The essence of something
is what makes it what it is. The form makes something what it is and, as such,
is the essence and formal cause of the thing. That is what form is, namely, an
essence. So, too, the one makes a form what it is and, thereby, serves as the
essence and cause of the form. But to be the essence and cause of the form is
to be responsible for the forms being itself an essence and cause. That is to say, a
form is a cause because it is one. Again, to say that one is the essence and cause
of a form is to say that a forms unity is what makes it be what it is, namely, an
essence and cause of sensibles. Since any sensible comes to be and is destroyed,
it is a plurality and cannot be an essence; it is necessary to recognize something
besides the sensibles in order to have an essence, and the mark of that somethings
units and points in the quantitative series of ones. He agrees with the Pythagoreans
that they are the limits of a continuous thing and, thereby, material principles.
22. Scholars have puzzled over Aristotles sources. They may be nothing more
esoteric than Platos characterization of the forms as one in passages like Phaedo
80a10b5.
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not being a sensible and, thereby, of its being an essence is its unity. Hence, Plato
thinks that something is a formal cause because it is one. Just as proponents of
the material cause advance it because they assume that unity makes something
a cause, the proponents of formal causes make the same assumption. The difference lies in what type of unity they require the form to have.
The Ionians insist, in Aristotles terms, that the cause is one in substrate
and immune from generation, whereas Plato, again in Aristotles terms, takes
the cause to be akin to what 6 calls one in formula. (I say akin because
the one, like Aristotles own highest genera, has no formula; but Plato regards
it as the principle of thought.) We might expect Aristotle to say that proponents
of efficient causes also think that a cause must be one; insofar as this cause
makes something move all at once, it causes one by continuity. He does not
say this, but he probably regards their not assuming that an efficient cause is
one in this way as a deficiency in their accounts; for, as we saw, he complains
that those who advance efficient causes neglect to explain where they come from
and how they belong to things (4, 985b1920). Interestingly, Aristotle mentions
his own highest efficient causes, the heavenly spheres, as the most continuous
whole, and he identifies the whole as a primary one (I 1, 1052a2528).
In sum, Aristotle thinks that at least some of his predecessors advance matter
and form as causes because they are each one, albeit in different ways; and he
himself advances what is most one in continuity as the highest efficient causes.
Evidently, the idea that something must be one to be a cause is a widely held
notion that is endorsed by Aristotle. At issue are which sorts of things are one
and what types of unity they have. Some philosophers think material things
are causes because they are one in substrate or one by continuity, others that
forms are causes because they are one in formula or in thought.
Since it is by virtue of its unity that something is a cause, Aristotles inquiry
into the kinds of causes is closely tied to the question of the kinds of unity. His
argument for multiple types of causes depends upon the existence of multiple
types of one. Constant here is the assumption that what is one is a cause. Later
in the Metaphysics, when Aristotle inquires into the nature of one, he mentions
two possible answers, the Platonic One itself and the Ionian substrates (I 2,
1053b916)just what book A refers to as causes. Apparently, Aristotle thinks
his predecessors equate being a cause with being one.
Those who claim that the cause must be one in formula face a problem in
understanding the matter. Since matter receives the form, and form is the
principle of intelligibility, matter must be unintelligible. The problem is how
to understand something that is unintelligible, and a solution is to understand
matter as some sort of privation of the principle of intelligibility. Since one is
the principle of knowledge (2.3), a privation of intelligibility is a privation of
unity. There are several ways that something could fail to be one, and Aristotle
discusses the subject later, in I 35. The privation that Aristotle ascribes to Plato
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is the indeterminate or, as he terms it, the indefinite dyad or the great and
the small (A 6, 987b2029). The dyad is the contrary to the one; and, since Plato
does not distinguish matter and privation, it is also the matter for the one.
It might be thought that Platos dyad disproves my claim that Plato thinks
that a cause must be one, for the dyad is a material cause that is not one. In
my view, the idea that a cause must be one is what really explains the dyad, to
the extent that it can be explained. Since a cause is one, it cannot alter. Hence,
there must be something else for the cause to act upon, and this something
else must not be one; for insofar as something can be altered, it is not one but
also, thereby, not fully knowable. The dyad plays the role of this unintelligible
something else. It is a matter, but it is also indeterminate and has no causal
efficacy. It serves as the counterpart to Platos form in something of the way
that the Ionians implicitly recognize form as the inactive counterpart to their
matter. Platos matter and the Ionians form, thus, fall neatly into Aristotles
division of causes, even though their proponents do not regard them as causes.
Indeed, the dyad is a cause because, lacking the unity that would make it
determinate, it can serve as matter for the one itself.
Aristotles description in A 6 of Platos causes as one and the indefinite
dyad, along with his claims that one and the dyad generate the forms and that
the forms are numbers have provoked enormous discussion because they go
beyond what can be found in Platos dialogues. The debate is whether Aristotle
is reporting Platos esoteric doctrine or whether he has simply failed to understand Platos published work. To consider this issue in any depth would take
us too far afield from our theme. Let me simply suggest that what has emerged
thus far about the unity of principles helps us to see the remarks of A 6 in
their context. Because Aristotle thinks that Plato and other philosophers took
unity to be a mark of a cause, it is natural that he would focus his attention
on what he took to be Platos account of one and its counterpart, the dyad.
His emphasis on these two does not reflect Platos published writings, but it
matches the emphasis that Aristotle places, in A 37, on other philosophers
accounts of what is one. This observation does not help us to decide whether
the doctrines described in A 6 are advanced by Plato, but it does suggest that
Aristotle has his own motive for stressing the importance of one and the dyad,
whatever their role in Platos philosophy.23 Aristotle consistently emphasizes
the role of one in his predecessors; we will see why in the next section.
23. The so-called Tbingen School proposes that Platos dialogues be interpreted
using one and the indefinite dyad as a guiding thread. For a concise statement,
see Hans Joachim Krmer, Plato and the Foundations of Metaphysics (Albany: State
University of New York Press, 1990), part II, and Thomas A. Szlezk, Reading
Plato, trans. Graham Zanker (London: Routledge, 1999). The value of Aristotles
account for our understanding of Plato is, in my mind, substantially diminished
once we see how powerful his motivation is for interpreting Plato in this way.
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It is worth noting again that Aristotles emphasis on unity as a criterion of

any cause and, in particular, a criterion of Platos causes is sharply at odds with
the way that A 6 is typically read. Aristotle is supposed to be generally critical
of Platos separation of the forms and to be setting out an esoteric account of
their generation in A 6. We have seen, though, that Aristotle endorses Platos
recognition of forms as existing apart from () matter because, as separate,
they can be one and, thus, be causes that are distinct from material causes.
That is to say, their distinctive unity (unity in form) makes forms distinct as
causes from material causes. Plato would have his forms act upon matter,
namely, the indefinite dyad. But Aristotle argues that they cannot do soin
general, he thinks that contraries cannot act upon each otherand he rejects
the notion that one and the dyad could generate all things (988a17). By arguing that Platonic forms are not agents, he bolsters his case for taking them to
be a type of cause that is distinct from material and efficient causes. In short,
even though separation is mentioned in A 37, Aristotles focus is on unity.
If, as I have been arguing here, Aristotle considers the question of causes as
a question about the unity of principles and if he assumes that a cause must be
one, why does he not say so more clearly in A 37? Why does he formulate the
issue in other ways? As I said in the first chapter, Aristotle rarely gives us the
signposts that we need to connect the various threads of his thought. We often
rely on the tradition and our own suppositions about what is important. In the
case of A 67, there is universal agreement on the importance of one and the
dyad as Platonic principles, but readers suppose that Aristotle is mentioning
them merely as examples of causes advanced by other philosophers. I have
been arguing here that Aristotle emphasizes the unity of the Platonic first
cause because he is exploring the assumption that any cause must be one. As
we saw, he notes twice Platos view that something is a (formal) cause because
it is one, and he emphasizes Platos separation of the form because, insofar
as form is independent, it is not subject to change and is, thereby, one. The
point is that Aristotle does say that a formal cause must be one, and his claim
would be more widely recognized were readers more focused on Aristotles
own argument than the positions he ascribes to Plato. Aristotle is notorious
for misinterpreting other philosophers; he presents their positions in his own
terms in order to set off his own ideas. Rather than using A 37 as a source for
other philosophers, we ought to ask just which ideas Aristotle aims to display.
Besides his concern with the four causes, the present discussion shows the
importance of the assumption that a cause must be one.
Ironically, though, it is just Aristotles insistence that a cause be something
one that leads to causes that are not one and to a plurality of causes. We have
noted the case of the dyad, Platos matter; since the formal cause is one, it is
unchanging and requires something that admits of receiving it. Likewise, if
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the material cause is one, then some other cause, an efficient cause, is required
to act upon it and account for its motions and altered states. Thus, plurality
would seem to be intrinsic to any complete account of the causes. Just as matter and form are paired together as causes, efficient and final causes are also
paired. The necessity of the former in each pair makes clear the necessity for
the latter. Hence, the discussion of the number of causes helps to elucidate their
nature. Aristotle notes that no other philosopher posits final causes, except
incidentally (7, 988b615). The failure of Aristotles predecessors to grasp all
four types of causes stands in A 37 as an implicit criticism of the accounts
they propose of the nature of the causes, but this criticism is supplemented
with explicit criticisms in the remainder of book A.
In the next two chapters Aristotle critiques the positions he describes in A
37. Here, too, he organizes his discussion with one/many. The first portion
of A 8 (988b22989a19) criticizes advocates of one material cause; the rest of
the chapter (989a19990a32) criticizes those who posit many principles. A 9
consists of a lengthy criticism of Plato and his followers, a criticism that is
repeated, often nearly verbatim, in M 45.
3.3.1 A 8
The problem with materialistic monism is that a single material cause cannot
do what the other types of causes do. A single material cause cannot account
for incorporeal entities (8, 988b2224), nor can it cause motion (988b2628) or
explain essence (988b2829). Also, there is some difficulty in deciding which
of the elements is most elemental and thus should be the single cause. On
one hand, fire is the finest constituent and thus the one of which others are
composedthough claims of this sort have also been made for water and air
(988b34989a15; De Anima A 2, 404b30405a7; cf 404a827, esp. a11, a22). On
the other hand, since that which is posterior in generation should be prior
in nature and since earth is posterior in generation, earth should be the one
element (989a1518).
Even those who advance many principles have difficulty accounting for
everything. Thus, Aristotle criticizes Empedocles and Anaxagoras on the
ground that their arguments are proper only to generation and destruction
(989b2122). They cannot account for what does not change, the incorporeal.
Another group of pluralists, the Pythagoreans, have the opposite problem: the
mathematical causes that they posit take us toward and are more suited to the
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higher beings but do not account for motion (990a512), for any of the sensible
properties of the particular bodies, or for the world as a whole (990a1232).
In short, a central problem for other accounts of the causes is their incompleteness: other philosophers offer one or two of the four types of causes, and
the causes that they offer cannot provide an adequate account of everything.
Neither monists nor pluralists have grasped all the causes correctly, not
because the causes they recognize are necessarily wrong but because they
do not recognize all the kinds of causes.
Aristotle devotes all of A 9 to a critique of Platonic forms. Its detail and
rigor seem out of place. Why, when it suffices to touch on the Pythagoreans
(990a3334), must Aristotle consider Platonic causes at such length? Probably,
the reason Plato receives such an extended discussion is that his philosophy
more than any other is a serious competitor for the title wisdom. Why so?
Aristotle credits Plato alone of all his predecessors with attaining non-corporeal principles. Both Ionians and Pythagoreans, in contrast, are claimed
to be concerned mainly with physical or changing things (8, 989b2122;
b2934). Pythagorean causes move toward higher beings (990a57), but
Platos forms are non-corporeal precisely because he separates them from
sensibles. Again, in this context the separation of the cause is a positive feature of Platos philosophy.
The usual view is that Aristotles criticism of Plato is directed against separation. But Aristotle objects to separation explicitly in only one passage in A 9
(991b19) and implicitly in two others (990a34b8; 991a818). Indeed, it is not
separation per se that Aristotle questions in these passages but the possibility
that form could be separate and yet cause generation (991b19), movement,
and knowledge (990a34b8; 991a818).
More often, we will see, Aristotles arguments against Plato turn on another
character he thinks Plato ascribes to form, unity. The Platonic form is, Aristotle
thinks, a one over many and, as we saw earlier, the one is the essence of
the forms (7, 988b46). It is important that Aristotle does not call separation
the essence of Platos forms: if Platos forms are separate, it must be because
each is one. The one itself, as Plato understands it, would have to be separate
because it is without parts, instances, or necessary connections with anything
else. Because it is strictly one, it must exist apart. Similarly, the form, one by
partaking in the one itself, is intelligible apart from the sensibles, and they
must be known through it. Hence, to the extent that a form is one, it must
also be separate from sensibles. We saw that the unity of the form qualifies
it to be cause. Aristotle invokes the assumption that to be a cause is to be
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one repeatedly in book A, implicitly and explicitly. He never disputes this

assumption, and there is every reason to think he endorses it. The objections
he raises against his predecessors causes turn on whether the unities they
suppose to be causes could serve as causes in the ways they suppose. So, too,
in A 9 the problem is not whether the form should be oneAristotle agrees
that it shouldor whether it should be separate, but whether the form can
have the sort of unity Plato ascribes to it and still be the cause of motion and
knowledge in sensibles.
To lay more of my cards on the table, let me suggest that one reason Aristotle
devotes so much attention to examining Platos form is that he agrees with
Plato that the cause must be one and, more specifically, must be one in some of
the ways that Plato claims it is one. His task in the Metaphysics, as he sees it, is
to expose the impossible consequences that result from Platos notion of how
such a unity acts as a cause and to show that a subtle, but significant modification removes the difficulties. In my view, his treatment of Plato in A9 and,
indeed, throughout the Metaphysics is an indication of this aim. Indeed, as I said
earlier, Aristotles accounts of his predecessors philosophies are more reliable
indications of what he is interested in than the content of those philosophies.
It is clear throughout book A that he is interested in the unity of a cause, and
it is particularly clear in his exposition of Plato that unity is forms key feature.
We should draw the obvious inference: Aristotle himself is concerned with the
unity of the form. And this inference is strengthened by the fact that we cannot
easily infer from the dialogues that Plato ascribes unity to forms in the ways
that Aristotle claims. If Aristotle agrees with Plato that unity must be ascribed
to the cause, then unity cannot be the issue between them. Rather, the issues
include precisely what sort of unity the cause has, the cause of the causes unity,
and how a unity functions as a cause. Since Plato thinks that one is the essence
of form, for him to argue for forms is to argue that there must be a cause that
has the sort of unity a form has. Aristotle can undermine these arguments by
showing either that there need not or could not be such a unity or that such a
unity could not serve as a cause. He uses both strategies in A 9.
3.3.2.1 Doubling
Let us examine some of A 9s arguments. Its opening lines ridicule Platonism
by comparing Platos positing of forms to trying to count a few things by adding more things to them (990b24). The positing of forms is a kind of doubling
of sensible things,
For the forms are nearly equal to, or not fewer than, the things whose
causes they were seeking as they proceeded from them to the forms; for
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in respect of each [thing] there is something named equivocally with it

that is apart from () ousiai; among others there is a one over many,
whether the many be of things here or of eternal things (990b48).24
The increase in the number of things is usually taken to be simply a consequence of Platos so-called two world ontology. But Aristotle mentions here
that each form is a one over many (b78). The sensibles can be many only
if each is one. Since the form is also one, positing its existence adds to the
total number of things. Indeed, only if the form and sensible thing are each
assumed to be onean assumption Plato would not endorsecould forms
existence increase the number of things.
Given the necessary assumption, it is clear that forms increase the number
of things, but why do they make the number double? Why, in other words,
are forms as many as or more than sensible things? If a form is a one over
many, we would suppose that forms would be fewer than sensibles. Aristotle
does not ascribe to Plato a one to one correspondence between forms and
sensible individuals. Rather, the large number of forms probably stems from
the existence of (1) higher order genera and (2) forms of attributes. Both are
suggested in the present passage, and I propose the following interpretation.
Aristotles claim that for in respect of each [thing] there is something named
equivocally with it that is apart from ousiai refers to the species form that
is posited as being like an individual ousia but as existing besides or apart
from ousiai. This species form is an additional ousia introduced to explain the
initial set of ousiai. Thus, an individual person and the species form are both
called human being equivocally. Aristotles claim that among others there
is some one over many refers to genera other than ousia, such as the genera
of quality, quantity, and so forth.25 Not only is each thing an ousia, but it is
24. The Greek text from for in respect of toward the end of the sentence is difficult
and controversial. (See the critical apparatuses of the Greek editions and Ross,
Aristotles Metaphysics 1:191.) I think that interpretations ought to be judged by
how well they make sense of the passage and, in particular, by how well they can
solve the problem I mention in my next paragraph. I omit at 990b7 with the Paris
manuscript; in the same line should either be emended to or understood as
introducing an amplification of the preceding discussion of the genus of ousia. (In
his text Jaeger deals with the by moving the clause after it. I think
that the clause is better placed where it appears in the manuscripts because there
it explains in 990b6.) This construal is based upon my interpretation and
is not intended as support for that interpretation.
25. This is also the way Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:191, and Sachs, Aristotles
Metaphysics, 21 n. 19, understand this portion of the passage. On the other hand,
Ross takes eternal things in the next line to be the heavenly bodies; a reading
for which I see no basis.
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also a quality, a quantity, and so forth. Thus, for a group of similar ousiai, there
will be one form of ousia over many individuals (for example, human being
over many individuals) and also, assuming that they have the same types of
attributes, one quality over many sensible qualities, one quantity over many
sensible quantities, and so forth. The universals may be greater or lesser in
their scopes (for example, quality or color) depending on the degree of similarity among the attributes. Finally, the phrase whether many be of things
here or eternal things indicates that not only are there ones over many, but
these ones themselves constitute a many over which there is another one; thus,
over many white things there is, perhaps, an eternal white that is universal,
and over eternal white, eternal yellow, and so forth there is still another one,
eternal, universal color. So the number of forms does not necessarily double
the number of sensibles, but it does significantly increase their number. This
interpretation is consistent with a passage later in A 9 (991a27b1), but its chief
support lies in its making sense of an otherwise puzzling passage.
What is Aristotles objection to increasing the number of things? It is as if
someone wishing to count things that are few might suppose himself unable,
but after making many [think that] he might count (990b24). Aristotles
point here is that the forms Plato and his followers posit do not account for the
sensibles; they are themselves other individuals. Rather than showing why
the particulars are as they are, Plato posits more particulars. The problem is
not that forms could not cause sensibles, but rather how one individual, that
is, the form, could account for another individual or set of individuals. At first
glance, Aristotles criticism seems to be mistaken, for as he says here (990b78),
Platos form is one over many, a universal; and Plato would not be multiplying countable entities by acknowledging universals. But Aristotle claims that
Plato supposes the forms to be not only universal but also individual (M 10,
1086a3234). This generates the problem he is pointing to here: each sensible
must be one in order that it and the others could constitute a many, but the one
that stands over this many, the form, is also a single individual. The problem
is how one individual entity could cause another. Moreover, as an individual,
the form stands in as much need of a cause as the sensible individual it is supposed to cause. The sequence is supposed to stop with the one itself, but it too
is an individual. Hence, Aristotle accuses Plato of the absurdity of trying to
account for individuals by positing more individuals of the same type.
To suggest a defense for Plato, although he thinks forms are individuals, he
would deny that sensible particulars are properly independent individuals.
The sensibles are each pluralities; it is rather a form that is numerically one.
Aristotles criticism assumes, illegitimately, that each sensible is also an individual ousia. That is why he thinks that positing forms increases the number
of ousiai. This defense undermines Aristotles contention that Plato is doubling
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the ousiai and trying to explain one thing with another of the same type, but
it does not address the issue. Aristotle is right to point to the difficulty of
understanding how the form is supposed to account for the sensible, and the
puzzle is greater if the sensible is a plurality rather than a proper individual.
The form is an eternal version of the sensible character (Z 16, 1040b3034) that
exists apart from it. It remains mysterious how its character could account
for that of a sensible.
Whatever we say about the value of Aristotles argument, it derives from
the type of unity that Plato ascribes to each form, that is, the numeric unity
that makes it an individual, as well as from the assumed sameness in form
between the form and the sensible. In this first argument, Aristotle is deriving a paradoxical consequence from Platos assumption that form is a one
over many.
This assumption also plays a key role in Aristotles next set of arguments, his
refutation of Platos arguments for the forms (990b8991a8). These arguments
have received a great deal of attention in the literature.26 While scholars are
generally concerned to reconstruct Platos arguments and to assess Aristotles
criticism, for my purposes here it suffices to notice the role that assumptions
about each forms unity play in arguments for and against their existence.
First, though, let me say something about how to read this discussion. It is
clear that Aristotle distinguishes between two sorts of arguments for forms,
the more accurate arguments and those not more accurate (the less accurate)
(990b15), but it is a matter of some dispute just what he means by more accurate. Complicating the issue is Aristotles referring to the one over many
argument as a less accurate (990b13) argument and then claiming that one of
the more accurate arguments leads to the third man (990b17); for it is the one
over many argument that leads to the third man (see Parmenides 132ab).
So he seems to suppose that this latter argument is both more accurate and
not more accurate.27 The usual way of dealing with this and other problems
26. For example, Cherniss, Aristotles Criticism,223318, examines in detail these
arguments as they appear here and elsewhere, and he rejects them. Gail Fine,
On Ideas: Aristotles Criticism of Platos Theory of Forms (Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1993), also discusses these arguments in detail. For a briefer treatment, W. D. Ross,
Platos Theory of Ideas (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1963),16575, is still valuable.
27. See Cherniss, Aristotles Criticism, 276. Fine, On Ideas: Aristotles Criticism of Platos
Theory of Forms,197202, distinguishes a less accurate from a more accurate one
over many argument. The latter, she argues, has stronger assumptions than the
former and, unlike the former, is valid, though it leads to the third man argument.
She is right to distinguish two arguments, but I am not convinced by her account
of the difference. Her distinction rests on comparing some of Alexanders parenthetical remarks on the third man argument (In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria,
84.2227) with his presentation of the one over many argument (80.815). First, the
difference may have more to do with what is needed for the third man than with
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in interpreting this section is to turn to Alexanders commentary, much of

which is supposed to have come from Aristotles early Peri Ideon.28 The results
of this tack are neither satisfactory nor consistent.29 Although Alexander had
the advantage of having the Peri Ideon before him, his interpretation of it and
his association of it with A 9 should be no more authoritative than any of his
other interpretations of the Metaphysics.
The first place to look for clues about the difference between the two types
of arguments for the forms and Aristotles refutations of them should be A 9. I
think that there are contextual details that have not been explored.30 The first
of these is that the chapter divides into two parts. Part I considers and rejects
putatively Platonic arguments for the forms (990b8991a8). Part II is concerned
with the question of what forms would contribute to the knowledge of sensibles (991a8993a10). That is to say, Part I concerns the move from sensibles
to forms that would explain them, whereas Part II concerns the move in the
opposite direction, from a form to the sensibles that it is supposed to explain.
As we will see, in each part Aristotle examines, in turn, two versions of the
forms doctrine. The first [A] is what we might call the standard view, likely
the view of Platos middle dialogues; the second [B] is the view that identifies form and numbers, a view that may have been endorsed by Platos latter
dialogues and surely was endorsed by some in the Academy. The division
what follows from the one over many argument. Second, Alexander would have
been likely to give a full statement of the more accurate version of the argument
if it differed in the way Fine thinks. Third, Aristotle criticizes the less accurate
one over many argument because of its consequence, just as he criticizes the more
accurate version of the argument; both require something additional to see the
absurdity of their consequences. On the other hand, Fines conclusion is compatible with the account I give here. Her version of the more accurate one over many
argument supports the existence of form numbers, whereas her version of the
less accurate one over many probably does not.
28. See Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria,79.389.7. Parts of this section
are comments by Alexander and discussions of the Metaphysics, but much of it is
apparently a quotation from the Peri Ideon. The latter texts have been translated
by W. D. Ross, Select Fragments, vol.12 of The Works of Aristotle, ed. W. D. Ross
(Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1952),12433, and Fine, On Ideas: Aristotles Criticism
of Platos Theory of Forms,1319.
29. First, as Cherniss shows, Aristotles Criticism, 27576, Alexander misunderstands
what more accurate means. Second, the work Alexander quotes does not correspond exactly to what we have in A 9. He mentions several different arguments
under each head, likely an indication that he is unsure of just which argument
Aristotle intends in each case. Although Aristotle assumes his audience is familiar
enough with the arguments for the forms that he could simply name them, it does
not follow that the audience must have become familiar with the arguments from
another of Aristotles works, such as the Peri Ideon.
30. Compare my account here with Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics
of Aristotle,I. L.14:C 208, 213.
186
between the standard doctrine and the numbers doctrine of forms is clear
in Part II of A 9: [A] 991a8b9 discusses the standard doctrine, whereas [B]
991b9993a10 examines the form numbers. I am about to argue that the same
division appears in Part I. In my view, [I.A] the first set of arguments for the
forms presented here are arguments for the standard version, whereas [I.B]
the second set or arguments, the more accurate arguments for the forms,
support form numbers.
We saw earlier (3.1.2) that something more accurate is more simple and
that Aristotle uses this term to describe arithmetic in comparison with other
branches of mathematics (2, 982a2528). We cannot infer anything definitive
from one example of the terms usage, but it does raise the possibility that the
arguments for the forms that are more accurate are so because they are more
arithmetic, and that they are more arithmetic because they prove the existence
of more arithmetic forms. The form numbers are more arithmetic. The first set
of arguments for the forms would be themselves less accurate and support a
less arithmetic doctrine of forms, namely, the standard view.
A small bit of support for thinking that A 9 is criticizing two distinct versions of the forms doctrine can be gleaned from parallel passages in book M.
Aristotles criticism of the arguments for both versions of the forms, Part I [A&
B], has its counterpart in M 4; his critique of the possibility of forms serving
as causes, according to the standard version, Part II [A], has its counterpart in
M 5. And, finally, his critique of the form numbers serving as causes, Part II
[B], aligns with his treatment of form numbers as causes later in book M and
in N 4.31 That only the arguments for the existence of forms and against the
standard forms being causes are treated in the discussion of forms in M 45
suggests that the doctrine of form numbers constitutes a distinct doctrine. It
would be better for my interpretation if Aristotle had placed Part I [B] with
Part II [B], that is, his criticism of arguments for form numbers with his criticism of form numbers as causes, rather than in M 45; but it is not surprising
that he treats the arguments for both types of forms together. In my view, the
more accurate arguments are more accurate only in the sense that they are
applied to mathematicals. Hence, they are appropriately discussed in M 4.
Let us now return to the text of A 9. After the doubling argument, an argument that applies to all versions of the doctrine of forms, Aristotle mentions
two sets of arguments for forms:
31. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:190, notes that only part of A 9 is repeated in M 45,
but he does not see that other portions of A 9 consider a different version of
thedoctrine.
187
Further, in regard to those ways we prove the forms exist, in virtue of

none do the forms seem to exist. [A] For from some, it is not necessary
that there be a syllogism; from others there will be forms of things of
which we suppose there are not. For in respect of [1] the arguments from
the sciences there will be forms of all things of which there are sciences,
and in respect of the [2] one over many argument, [there will be forms]
of denials, and in respect of [3] the thinking of something corrupted
[argument, there will be forms] of corruptibles, for there is an image of
them. [B] Further, of the more accurate arguments, some make forms
of relations, of which we say there is not a per se genus; others lead32 to
the third man (990b817).
We see here a general claim [A] about the unacceptable consequences of arguments for the forms followed by references to three specific arguments and the
unacceptable consequence that follows from each. This is followed, in the last
sentence quoted, by a general claim [B] about the more accurate arguments
and some of their unacceptable consequences. Although it has not been noticed,
I think that in the text that follows (990b17991a8) Aristotle goes on to discuss
specific more exact arguments; if this is right, then [B] is exactly parallel to
[A]: both are general claims about unacceptable consequences of arguments
for the forms that are followed by remarks on specific arguments.
What is striking about this discussion that immediately follows the quotation and occupies the rest of Part I is that Aristotles illustrations of the forms
are numbers. This must be important for evaluating the absurd consequences
that follow from the arguments Aristotle refers to in this portion of the text,
and I think it is the essential clue that Aristotle is talking about form numbers
and that the arguments for them constitute the more exact arguments. A
close look at this text supports this interpretation.
The first consequence Aristotle mentions is that such an argument for
formsone of the more exact arguments, I thinkdestroys the things
we wish more33 to be because it follows that not the two [the dyad?] but
number is prior, the relation ( ) prior to the per se (990b1722).34 The
32. The term here means say in effect; see Cherniss, Aristotles
Criticism,278n.
33. This is the way Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria, 86.58, and
Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:196, understand this passage. M 4, 1079a1519 is
parallel. We might expect Aristotle to say that number is a quantity rather than
a relative, but first I have suggested that Aristotle implicitly refers to a universal
as a relative in 6, 1016b69 (see the discussion in 2.2.6) and, anyway, Aristotle
is recounting Platos view here. The claim here that two is per se is Platonic.
34. An elaborate, impressive, and influential discussion of this argument constitutes G. E. L. Owen, A Proof in the , Journal of Hellenic Studies77
(1957):10311. Owen argues that the objection Aristotle raises to Platonic forms
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text does not tell us what the argument is, but its consequence is that number
and the relationmost readers take number to be the relation Aristotle has
in mindare prior and, thus, more forms than what we wish more to be
forms, namely, the two and the per se. That is, the problem is that there is a
form of number rather than a form of two even though number is a relation
and two is per se. This is the first absurd consequence of the more accurate
arguments mentioned in [B] (990b16).
Aristotle goes on to mention a second unacceptable consequence of an
argumentanother of the more exact arguments, I thinkfor forms: there
will be forms of non-ousiai (990b22991a2). If there is a form of what is grasped
with one thought or of what is known by a science, then there will be forms of
non-ousiai (such as instances of the categories of relation and quality) because
these latter, too, can be thought and known (990b2327). These arguments
seem to be two of the arguments mentioned in the first, less accurate group
[A 1 and 3]. Here, though, Aristotle explains the problem with forms of nonousiai:35 Something that partakes of a form does not do so accidentally, but
partakes in respect of the form itself (990b3031). In contrast, something is,
for example, white not by partaking of a form but because of the character of
its substrate. Were this thing white by virtue of the form, it would always be
white because the form is unchanging. Hence, what a thing partakes of belongs
to it always. Aristotles unstated assumption is that it is only by partaking
of a form that a thing could have a character that serves as its substrate, and
what we need to see is that it is only certain forms that would give a thing
partaking of them that character. Something could be white in respect of its
substrate, but it would be a man because of the form man itself presumably
because, without participating in man itself (or some such form), it does not
even have a substrate. Suppose, then, that there is form of double itself, as it
seems there should be because it can be thought and known. Then, something
would partake of the double itself because of this form, and the double itself
would be its ousia. Since the double itself is also eternal, and what belongs
to a things ousia belongs to the thing, the thing must be eternal. However, if
here is that they are incomplete predicates, that is, relative terms rather than
substantial terms (p. 110). He is relying on Aristotles claim at [B] that the more
accurate arguments make there be ideas of relatives and take number to be such
a relative. It is very surprising that Owen pays no attention to the implication
of the line quoted in my text that two, or the dyad, ought to be prior to number
and per se! For him, two should be as incomplete as any other predicate he
discusses, signifying two somethings. That Aristotle regards two as properly per
se undermines his interpretation. Owen relies on what he takes to be Aristotles
presentation of the same argument in the Peri Ideon.
35. This passage is very difficult. For alternative readings see Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics
1:19697, and Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria, 9091.
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the thing is double and eternal, it does not differ from the form double itself.
Hence, the form here (in the thing) is the same as the form there. In contrast,
something that participates in a form that is an ousia is, thereby, itself an ousia;
and its ousia is the substrate that can take on its own accidents. Hence, it is not
eternal, even accidentally, and thus not the same as the form. In short, if there
are forms of whatever is thought, there will be forms of non-ousiai, and what
partakes of them will not differ from the forms. Since this is absurd, there
are only forms of ousiai. Hence, the arguments for form numbers, like double
itself, must be set aside as leading to the consequence that what partakes of
them is indistinguishable from them.
Third, if the form and what partakes of it are the same in form, then there
is something in common to them, another form in respect of which they are
both what they are (991a28). This must be the argument he refers to as the
third man (990b17).36 Aristotle immediately applies it to the dyad (991a36).
Just as two is one and the same in both the destructible twos and the many
eternal twos (that is, the instances of the number two), so likewise over this
common two and some particular two, there will be some third two that
is the same in both, and so forth.37 Regress is avoided if the forms here are
equivocal; in the case of Callias and a block of wood, there is no third man.
But that is because there is no common form. Apparently, the argument that
motivates our agreeing to there being a form number, the argument that there
must be a single number, itself one and eternal, that stands over a plurality
of numbers that are each eternal (cf. 991a35), 38 implies that there would be a
third man or, rather, a third form number, just as Aristotle had indicated in the
first sentence of [B] quoted above. In short, this argument for form numbers
leads to an infinity of such forms.
Hence, both unacceptable consequences of the more accurate arguments
mentioned initially turn out to be consequences of arguments discussed
in more detail in the lines following the quoted passage. Aristotle does
36. Aristotles choice of the equivocal uses of man (991a7) to illustrate the equivocity
between form and particular suggests to us his name for this paradox, the third
man (990b17).
37. Cherniss, Aristotles Criticism, p. 276, notes that Aristotles claims that forms of relations and the third man follow from certain more accurate arguments for forms
do not mean that these results follow uniquely from particular arguments. The
third man follows whenever a common predicate is posited as an individual.
By the same reasoning, when Aristotle speaks of arguments (plural) that
lead to this third man he may have in mind a third man argument that arises
from the eternal two and sensible two, a third man argument that arises from
the eternal three and sensible three, and so forth.
38. The argument Aristotle has in mind here is probably the one that appears at B 6,
1002b1426.
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not present these arguments directly. I have reconstructed two of them,

and he refers to what seems to be a third. Importantly, we can see from his
examples that all three aim to show that there are form numbers. It would
seem from this analysis, that Part I [B] is a discussion of arguments for form
numbers or, rather, a discussion of the absurd consequences that arise from
such arguments. This observation justifies identifying the more accurate
arguments as arguments for the more accurate, because more arithmetic,
version of the form.
Aristotles objections to the three arguments for form numbers all stem from
these forms not being ousiai. The discussion follows a clear sequence: Aristotle
first objects that relations would be ousiai; then, he argues that were a number
a form, that which partakes of it would also be a form, and were the one an
ousia, the other would be as well. Third, Aristotle exploits the consequences
of form and participant both being ousiai.
This reading of Part I of the discussion allows us to see the organization
without taking us far from a literal reading of the text. We get a sense of
Aristotles objections, but there is very little to tell us what is really at issue
because we cannot see the motivation of the Platonists. This is the point
where we can benefit by reconsidering the text in terms of the problem of the
one and the many. We can now return to the task of considering the role the
assumption that form is one plays in the chapter.
This assumption is obvious in the less accurate argument [A 2, above] that
Aristotle refers to as one over many, an argument that apparently infers the
existence of a form from a plurality of like particulars. The first less accurate
argument that Aristotle refers to is [A 1] the argument from the sciences. If
Alexander is right, Aristotle takes this argument to show that the object of
knowledge is something common, namely, a universal, a one over many.39 It
is an argument for forms only if forms are assumed to be universals. [A 1]
would seem to require the existence of some one nature, of which there can
be knowledge. Aristotle himself endorses this idea in his frequently repeated
dictum that there is one science of one genus ( 2, 1003b1920; An. Po. A 28,
87a38). Similarly, the last of the less accurate arguments is that [3] there must be
some object of thought for corruptible particulars (990b14), an object that must
be incorruptible. Applying this argument to non-ousiai, Aristotle notes, as an
absurd consequence of it, that the thing thought is one not only concerning
ousiai but concerning the others (990b2425). The complaint is that since even
the thought of a non-ousia is one, there would be forms of non-ousiai. Clearly,
argument [A 3] assumes that the thought is one and, thereby, also eternal. In
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sum, the three less accurate arguments purport to show that forms must exist
because there must be at least three sorts of unities: a universal, a unity known
by science, and a unity of thought. Form plays all three roles. The universal is a
one over many, the unity known by a science is also a one over many, and the
unity of thought is unity of an individual, despite its multiple parts. Hence, in
all three cases, the argument is that some plurality presupposes a unity through
which it is defined as a plurality; and Aristotles complaint against all three is
that other entities that are not forms are also one in each of these ways.
These arguments parallel the more accurate arguments. The first of these
latterunstated, as we sawhas as a consequence that number is prior to the
two. Number is more universal than two, and it would be prior to the two if
the more universal is prior to the less universal, a view that Aristotle seems
to ascribe to Platonists later (B 3, 999a1421; cf. a613). Since a universal is a
one over many, that is, a type of one, the more universal is, in a way, more
one. Further, since unity is the mark of a cause, the more universal would be
more of a cause (cf. 992b12). As such, the universal should be prior and number
should be more of a cause than the two. However, this conclusion is problematic
because number is, Aristotle suggests here, a relation; but were it a form and
cause, it would have to be per se. Aristotle does not say why number is relation,
but if the more accurate arguments are arguments for the form numbers, as
I have been arguing, we have a nice clue as to what he means. According to
the form numbers doctrine, numbers are generated from one and the dyad,
the two (A 6, 987b2027). Thus, one and the dyad are principles of number,
and number exists relative to these principles. As a principle, the two, or the
dyad, is per se or, at any rate, more per se than number. Hence, the supposition that the more universal is more of a principle because it is more one is at
odds with the dyads being the principle of the generation of number. On this
interpretation, the first more accurate argument for the forms closely parallels the second of the three less accurate arguments, except that here Aristotle
draws on the form number theory to argue for a contradiction.
As for the second more accurate argument, it invokes the assumption
that when there is one thought, there must be a single object of that thought
in order to argue that there is a form of what can be thought, just as the third
less accurate argument did. And, again, Aristotle is concerned here that the
argument leads to forms of non-ousiai. But the real problem is, to judge from
Aristotles example, that among such forms is the double itself. I take it that the
double itself is the two that is generated from the one and the indefinite dyad.
It is a form number that is also the cause and essence of sensibles. Because
whatever partakes of this form number, does so because of it, not because of
a substrate, there is nothing to prevent all the characters that belong to it from
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appearing in the sensible participant. Hence, ousia is the cause of ousia, and there
is no difference between the two here and the two there, as we saw. Aristotle
leaves it at this, without stating the conclusion that follows: the double itself
cannot be a one over many. If, that is, there is no difference between the two
here and the two there, then the latter is neither prior to the former, nor one
over many. Indeed, the double itself is two, not one. We might have thought
that the double itself is one somehow, at least, one insofar as it encompasses all
instances of double. But this path is blocked if there is no difference between
the two here and the two there, as Aristotle shows. The double itself cannot
be a cause of the many or a one over many if it is identical to the many.
The third more accurate argument arises from the second. If, indeed, the
destructible twos and the two itself share a common character of two, then
the latter will be a third two, distinct from the others, of which both partake.
This third two will, in turn, share a common character with the other twos,
and so forth. Once the one over many generator begins, there seems no
stopping it. What is striking here is that Aristotles example is, again, the two
itself and that he generates multiple forms of two. If each science knows one
form, then there must be an indefinite number of sciences of the two because
there are an indefinite number of twos. Thus, this more accurate argument
for form numbers undermines knowledge of the two, or any other number,
by making that knowledge indefinitely many.
In sum, all the Academic arguments for the existence of forms assume that
form is one. For most of them, this appears to be the assumption that generates the argument. This should not be surprising because Aristotle declares
that one is the essence of form and also because forms unity is required for
the claim at the beginning of A 9 that positing forms involves a doubling.
Aristotle does not emphasize the unity assumption in his presentation of
the arguments; but some off-hand remarks (such as 990b2425) suggest that
he thinks it obvious to his audience. He disables these arguments for forms,
both the less and the more accurate arguments, by showing they would make
what is not one be one or what is supposed to be one be many. Because the
Academic arguments for forms rely so heavily on the assumption that form
is one, Aristotles pointing to flaws in the kind of unity they ascribe to form
is an effective strategy against them, but his arguments do not undermine
the fundamental assumption that form is one.

At 991a8 Aristotle raises the question, Most of all it is necessary to puzzle
through what if anything the forms contribute to the eternal sensibles and to
those that come to be and perish. This question inaugurates what I take to
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be a set of arguments showing that formson the standard accountcannot

be causes of sensibles in any of the four ways of being a cause (991a10b9).
First, (a) forms cannot be efficient causes: For they cause neither the motion
nor change of any of these [sensibles] (991a11). Surprisingly, (b) the forms
cannot even be formal causes of sensibles: Nor do they aid in the knowledge
of other things, for they are not the ousiai [= formal causes3, 983a2729] of
them because they would need to be in them (991a1214). Platonic forms
cannot be in sensibles (cf. Timaeus 52a). Aristotle continues: if the forms were
mixed in with similar sensibles as white is mixed with the white thing,
then they might be causes; but this is impossible (991b1419). Now (c) if forms
were mixed with sensibles in this way, they would be material causes; so this
passage implicitly denies that forms can be material causes.
Since forms are not in sensibles, they must be separate; and the final arguments against the standard doctrine of forms begin from this separation.
The first set (991a19b1) derives from the claims in the Timaeus that forms are
paradigms. For us the most interesting arguments here are: (1) since not only
is man himself the form of man but also animal itself, two-footed itself, and so
forth, there will be many forms for each individual; and (2) one and the same
form will be paradigm and copy. Why are these consequences objectionable?
Apparently because they undermine the unity of the form: rather than one
form over many sensibles, there would be many forms over each sensible and
even over each form. Hence, the unacceptable consequence of separation is
plurality! But, as we saw earlier, the motivation for separation is to allow form
to be independent and, thereby, one.
In the last set of arguments against the standard doctrine (991b19), Aristotle
objects to forms being the ousiai of sensibles on the grounds that, being separate, forms could not generate sensibles and that some things, such as artifacts,
come to be even though they have no forms. These arguments assume that the
cause of a nature is the cause of its generation (see Phys. B 1, 193b818). The
problem with forms is, again, that they are not efficient causes.
The preceding arguments show that Platonic forms, on what I have called
the standard account, can be neither the formal, efficient, nor material causes
of sensibles. That the forms are not final causes had been argued earlier
(7,988b616). Since Aristotle has already argued that these four are the only
types of causes, the forms cannot be causes. That is to say, although Plato
posits them as causes, they cannot be causes because they fall under none of
the four kinds. Aside from arguments showing that the standard doctrine
leads to a plurality of forms for one thing, the assumption that form is one
does not figure prominently in Part II [A] (991a8b9).
At the opening of Part II [B], 991b9, Aristotle asks, If the forms are numbers, how will they be causes? The rest of A 9 constitutes a treatment of the
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doctrine supported by the more accurate arguments, the form numbers.

As in what precedes, Aristotle aims to show that these forms could not be
causes in any of the four ways. The organization of this discussion has not
been commented upon in the literature. There is no need to work through
its details; it suffices for my purposes to outline this portion of the chapter.
Aristotle pays the most attention to showing that form numbers could not
be formal causes of sensibles (991b9992a29): the forms are supposed to be
the ousiai of sensible ousiai, but there is no explanation of how they are the
ousiai of sensibles (992a2628). He mentions briefly that those who posit form
numbers ignore final causes (992a2932), and he claims that not only do
form numbers not cause motion (as efficient causes), but they would destroy
the study of nature (992b79). Most of the rest of the chapter is devoted to
showing that neither form numbers (992b13993a10) nor their matter (the
great and the small) (992b17) can be the matter of sensibles, that is, material
causes. Aristotles argument that form numbers do not imply that all is one
(992b913) seems not to fit this pattern until we recall that the one ascribed
to all things is the one in substrate (cf.2.2.8). So this passage belongs with
the treatment of material causes.
That Aristotle thinks Platonists assume each form number is one is clear
from a glance at his exposition, and some of Aristotles arguments against form
numbers turn on showing that forms cannot have the assumed unity. Two
arguments here are pertinent to our concerns. At 992a210, Aristotle accuses the
Platonists of using one in different ways. They use it of both units and the one
itself. They treat a unit as if it were a single element of number; at the same time,
they treat the whole number as an ousia and, thus, a unity (cf. M8, 1084b1832).
That is, Platonists assume that each form number is one as a number, but also
that it is composed of units that are each one. These unities are incompatible.
Second, as I noted in the previous paragraph, at 992b913 Aristotle argues that
the Platonists cannot show that all is one. This latter would follow, he claims,
only if the universal is a genus, but it is not always a genus. The case he has in
mind is the universal one. As we know from 26, the genus is one as a kind
of whole because it encompasses each of its instances (1027b2734). If one were
a genus, then everything would be one insofar as everything would be an
instance of this genus. Aristotle seems to think that Platonists argue that all is
one because each being partakes of the one. But, Aristotle argues, this would be
true only if one were a genus, but it is not a genus (see B 3, 998b1928). Hence,
the one itself cannot have the unity of a generic substrate that Aristotle apparently thinks the Platonist form numbers doctrine ascribes to it.
If all this is right, then A 9 fits perfectly with the chapter that precedes it. In
A8 Aristotle criticizes monistic and pluralistic accounts of causes. In A 9, he
goes after a similar but more sophisticated account that recognizes the plurality
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of beings but makes each form a unity, a one over many. Platonism meets the
motivation for monism while recognizing a plurality of principles. Not only
is it appropriate for Aristotle to refute Platonism along with other accounts of
the number of principles, but it is essential for him because, as becomes clear
in book A, Platonism endorses a first science of first causes that might seem
to meet the requirements for metaphysics set out in A 2. For the Platonists, as
Aristotle interprets them, maintain that the forms are the essences of other
things, and the one is the essence of the forms (A 7, 988b46); they should
concludeas Aristotle thinks they dothat ultimately all is one (992b910)
and that someone who knew this one would know all things (992b24993a2).
The science of the one itself would, then, be the science of the first cause and,
thus, universal, accurate, architectonic, and so forth.
There is no need to consider here whether any of this is an accurate picture of
Platonism. The point is that Platonism, as Aristotle understands it, propounds
the best alternative account of a first science. It is the only real competitor to
Aristotles own metaphysics; hence, the care that he takes to refute it. In arguing
that the forms cannot be causes, Aristotle is arguing that the one itself cannot
be a cause and, thus, that the science of it is not metaphysics.
To conclude, A 9s arguments refute Academic arguments for both versions
of the doctrine of forms, and they show that neither sort of form is a cause of
sensibles. Taken together with A 8, this chapter shows that none of the accounts
of causes is adequate, a conclusion that Aristotle states in A 10 (993a1116). It
is not just that, because they omit final causes, they fail to recognize all the
kinds of causes, but that the entities they advance as instances of a particular
kind often cannot do the job required of such causes.
A feature of A 9 that is often mentioned is Aristotles use of the first person plural. It has been argued by Jaeger that A 9 was written at a time when
Aristotle still thought of himself as an Academic, as a proponent of a supersensible being.40 Despite other similarities, in M 45 Aristotle speaks in the third
person, according to Jaeger an indication of its later origin. Let me propose an
alternative explanation for this difference. In book A Aristotle is a Platonist in
these senses: he thinks that there is one science that treats all things by treating
their first principles; he thinks that forms or essences are causes; and, contra the
Ionians, he thinks there is a supersensible reality. As the inquiry undertaken in
the Metaphysics progresses, he distinguishes his own position from that of Plato.
Form comes to refer to Aristotelian form, and he uses the term universal
to refer to Platos form (see Z 16, 1040b2634). Consequently, when he takes
up Platonism again in M 45, Aristotle implicitly incorporates the distinction
between his own forms and the Platonic forms by switching to the third person.
40. Jaeger, Studien zur Entstehungsgeschichte der Metaphysik des Aristoteles,3335.
196
Even though M 45 covers the same ground as A 9, it advances criticisms of the

Platonic forms to strengthen Aristotles own account of the forms. Regrettably,
there is no more evidence for this suggestion than for Jaegers, but neither is
there any less. I regard it as an advantage that my interpretation removes an
obstacle to reading the Metaphysics as a rhetorical whole; the presumption
ought to be in favor of the texts cogency. Another of its advantages is that my
interpretation clarifies the sense in which Aristotle is a Platonist in book A
and enables us to understand how he can reject Platonism in A 9 and yet be
puzzled by it in book B. Most importantly, my interpretation allows us to see
the Metaphysics as an inquiry rather than an exposition of doctrine.
3.4 Book : Infinite Causes, First Causes,
and the Existence of Metaphysics
Like book A, book examines the number of causes, but it proceeds in the
opposite direction. Whereas the discussion of causes in book A starts with
philosophers who posit one cause and shows why more are necessary, book
argues against the causes being infinite. Book A is primarily concerned with
the causes of being and becoming and only occasionally mentions the causes
of knowledge. Book aims to find the causes of knowledge.
This concern with the causes of knowledge is apparent in the books opening discussion of truth and the difficulty of knowing it (993a3031; b1920).
Truth is the object of theoretical science (993b2021) and, thus, the object of
metaphysics (cf. A 1, 981b29982a1).
At the end of 1 Aristotle argues that an inquiry into truth is tantamount to
an inquiry into being. His reasoning is as follows: To know a truth is to know
its cause (993b2324; also A 3, 983a2526). Something has a character most of
all if it is in respect of it that a character of the same name belongs to others
(993b2425; also An. Po. A 2, 72a2930).41 Hence, that which causes what comes
later to be true is itself more true (993b2829). It follows that the principles of
eternal beings are most true because they are not sometimes true and sometimes
notin which case, they would require something else to cause their truthand
because their being is not caused by something else (993b2830). So that, finally,
as each thing stands to being, so it stands to truth (993b3031).
41. Although this principle might seem Platonic, Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on
the Metaphysics of Aristotle,II. L.2: C 292, recognizes it as Aristotles view. Gnther
Patzig, Theology and Ontology in Aristotles Metaphysics, in Articles on Aristotle:
3. Metaphysics, ed. Jonathan Barnes, Malcolm Schofield, and Richard Sorabji, trans.
Jennifer Barnes and Jonathan Barnes (London: Duckworth, 1979),3839, thinks
Aristotle is speaking about the primary instance of a pros hen.
197
Aristotle seems to have omitted some steps. Implicit here are the assumptions that eternal beings, or their principles, have being most of all and that
they cause being to lesser beings. He speaks as if there are eternal beings, but
he does not show or even say that they exist, and we can read the argument
as hypothetical: if there are eternal beings, then they are most true.
Why, though, does he speak about being at all? Would it not have sufficed
to argue that there must be a highest truth if there are lesser truths? Aristotle
is interweaving truth and being. We can see why by reflecting on how he connects them. The principles of eternal beings are most true because they are
always true and because their being is not caused by some other thing. As the
highest beings, these principles (or the eternal beings of which they are the
principles) cause lesser beings; as most true, they cause lesser truths. Hence,
as things stand to the causes of their being, so they stand to the causes of their
truth. Plainly, the truth Aristotle is speaking about here is objective truth, the
truth that belongs to eternal beings and lesser beings.42 This notion of truth
contrasts with the correspondence theory, truth of statements or thoughts,
that he also enunciates (1027b2023, b2527) and is more often credited with.
Inasmuch as truth is the object of knowledge, in saying that a higher being
is more true than lesser beings as well as the cause of their truth, Aristotle
is claiming that higher beings, that is, eternal beings, are themselves more
knowable and the cause of lesser beings knowabilityeven if what is more
knowable is less knowable to us (993b711).
How, then, does one truth cause truth to another? How is one truth more
true than another? Aristotle sometimes speaks of the premises of a syllogism
as causes of the conclusion (e.g., 2, 1013b20). Premises are more true insofar
as they are truths that are prior to the conclusion, and they could be said to
cause the conclusion to be true. The principles of eternal beings are most true
because they can serve in this causal role, that is, as middle terms, in syllogisms.
However, the conclusions drawn from such premises would concern states of
beings. These latter are lesser truths. So, although the principles of eternal beings
are most true and cause lesser truths, they seem to have this causal role because
they are the highest beings and cause being to lesser beings. In other words, the
causal path from higher to lesser truths goes through being. The highest truth
acts as a cause through the mediation of being. This, I submit, is why Aristotle
interweaves his discussion of truth with a discussion of beings.
Again, Aristotle is assuming that the highest truths cause being, but it has
not yet been proven that eternal beings cause being in other things. Is Aristotle
relying on a result from the Physics? Perhaps, but it is more likely that he relies
42. For more discussion of objective truth see Halper, One and Many in Aristotles
Metaphysics: The Central Books,21721.
198
on discussions in book A. As we saw, he credits all those who expound material

causes with recognizing that each must be one and with maintaining that each
is one in substrate because it is neither generated nor destroyed (3, 984a3133).
Likewise the formal causes, as expounded by Plato and his followers, are also
unchanging (6, 987b48) and one (987b17).43 Or, rather, it is because they assume
that a cause must be one that Aristotles predecessors advance what they take
to be the highest unities as causes; and insofar as they are truly one, these
causes are also eternal. Hence, the assumption that eternal beings cause being
to other beings may express nothing more than the assumption that one is the
mark of a cause. The principles of eternal beings would be the causes of the
matter or of the forms, namely, the matter itself or the Academys One itself.
What recommends this interpretation is that it shows a connection between
book A and the present argument. Moreover, it deflates the significance of 1s
apparent assumption of eternal beings, for the eternal beings that cause being
in others might be simply the causes, rather than the heavens or the unmoved
movers, both of which require extensive argument.44 Aristotle would be saying
that the first causes, whatever they turn out to be, must be one and eternal and
are, therefore, the highest beings and the most true. And, notably, it would be
the unity of the cause that makes it eternal, most trueone is the principle of
knowledge ( 6, 1016b1821)and the highest being.
All this is true, but we cannot derive it immediately from the argument
of 1. Rather, we need to read this argument as hypothetical, as I suggested
earlier: if there is a first cause, then it is eternal, most true, and the highest
being and the cause of being and truth to others. The question is whether there
is a first cause, and this is just what the rest of book argues.
More specifically, Aristotle argues that the causes are not infinite. That is
to say, he argues that any causal sequence must terminate in a first cause. The
opening sentence of 2 states the conclusion: That there is some principle
(beginning), and the causes of beings are not infinite either in a straight line or
in kind is clear (994a12). Aristotle risks infinite causes because he assumes
here, as he does in book A, that each cause is one; so that an infinite series
of causes would have to be infinite in numberin contrast with a series of
progressively smaller causal parts that could come to a finite limit. Since, as
we also saw in book A, the causes can differ in number and in kind, Aristotle
needs to argue that the causes are not infinite in number (in a straight line)
43. It is puzzling how these forms could be unchanging and yet generated from one
and the indefinite dyad. Presumably, the generation of the forms is an atemporal
emanation. Otherwise, Plato would be inconsistent.
44. As Thomas Aquinas thinks, Commentary on the Metaphysics, II. L.2:C 29596. In
contrast, Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria, 148.2428 mentions
that besides the heavens the four bodies are also eternal.
199
and that they are not infinite in kind (994a12). The first of these tasks occupies the bulk of 2 (994a327); the second is briefly addressed near the end of
this chapter (994a2731). To show that the causes are not infinite in number,
Aristotle shows that there cannot be an infinite series of any of the four kinds
of causes: material (994a35, b69); efficient (994a58); final (994a810; b916);
formal (994a1011; b1627). Also, he excludes both infinity up or back to first
causes and infinity down or forward to consequences. An infinity of prior
causes is excluded because, in any series of three terms, the intermediate cause
is the cause of only one and is itself caused by another. But in an infinite series,
all the terms are intermediate. If all the causes are intermediate, there is no
first cause. And if there is no first cause, then nothing is caused (994a1119).
Similarly, there can be no downward infinite sequence because either change
is cyclicalin which case there are a finite number of kinds in the seriesor
the sequence moves toward an end, a completion (994a19b6). This completion
is the actualization of whatever potentiality is present in the changing thing
(cf. Phys. 1, 201a911). Either the change comes to an end when it is complete,
or there is no end to be reached, and, thus, no movement.
An argument against an infinite series of formal causes is that all formal
causes besides the essence are more general and thus less properly causes
(b1620). There is nothing more general than a universal such as being that
includes everything, as there is nothing that is less of a cause. Hence, there
could be no infinite series of progressively more general formal causes. In
another argument against an infinite series of formal causes, Aristotle points
to its incompatibility with knowledge (b2027).
Aristotles brief argument against the causes being infinite in kind also
depends on the incompatibility of infinite causes and knowledge. To know
we must grasp the cause, but we cannot go through an infinity of causes in
a finite period. Hence, if there is to be knowledge, the causes must be finite
in kind (994b2731).
These last two arguments assume that there is or can be knowledge of causes.
Aristotle does not assume that we could attain this knowledge; indeed, he
suggests that we could not or could not adequately do so (993a31b1, b711).
Still, the things themselves must have a nature that would render them knowable. Why? Perhaps, the answer lies in the argument in 1 that something
stands to truth as it does to being. Knowledge is not just grasping a truth, but
grasping a being. Hence, the existence of causes of being insures the existence
of truths that are knowable. That is to say, if there are causes of being, they
must be knowable. But do we know that there are causes of being? Is that not
just what is at issue here, for if causal sequences are infinite either nothing
could ever come to be or ever be known through its causes. So the argument
of 1 is not immediately helpful.
200
Aristotle is sometimes criticized for simply assuming that being can be

known. But he does not think that all of being can be known: there are accidents that are not knowable (E 3, 1027a1920). The knowledge he assumes here
seems rather to be limited to particular sciences such as, perhaps, mathematics
and the crafts. Since to know the subjects of these is to know their causes, and
since we do know these subjects, we must also be able to know their causes.
If their causes can be known, these causes cannot be infinite.
The problem with this line of thought is that the mathematician does
not know all the causes of his subject, nor is other particular knowledge
generally predicated upon such a complete grasp of causes. Contemporary
philosophers often suppose that it suffices to grasp only the previous cause
to count as having knowledge, a view that makes knowledge compatible with
an infinite sequence of causes. Aristotle cannot endorse this view because,
as we saw in the argument of 1, he holds that the cause of something elses
having a character has the character in a higher degree. If, then, there is
some particular knowledge, the things known will be true, and the cause
of their truth is a being that is more true. This type of qualitatively increasing series cannot continue indefinitely. If there is some truth, there must be
a being that is most true, and, as such, most knowable. Hence, Aristotle is
right to claim that the causes must be knowable (even if they are not actually
known by us), but my supporting argument here relies on causal sequences
terminating, just the sort of conclusion that Aristotle invokes knowability
to support.
If Aristotles arguments stand, then every causal sequence begins from a first
cause. What do we know about this initial terminus? Aristotle argues that each
sequence has a terminus, not that each sequence has the same terminus; nor
does he show that sequences of a single kind of cause have the same terminus
or, even, the same type of terminus. Indeed, at first glance, termini of causal
sequences would seem so diverse as to have nothing in common, but this is
not so. Consider a sequence of final causes: tying shoelaces in order to wear
shoes, wearing shoes in order to walk, walking for the sake of health. Health
seems to be the end of the sequence (and the initial terminus of a sequence of
final causes); but it cannot be a proper terminus because it is for the sake of
something else, namely, happiness or the good (994a810; a1213). In order
for a sequence of final causes to terminate there must be some cause that is
itself uncaused, a cause that is not for the sake of another but others for it
(994b910). But such a causal finality is the reason Aristotle gives in 1 for
insisting that eternal beings are first causes: they are not true only sometimes,
and they are causes to the others (993b2830). Hence, every sequence of final
causes must terminate in an eternal being that is its temporal end and causal
beginning. We could also gather as much from Aristotles claim that a motion
201
ends with a completion (994a2526; N. E. A 7, 1097b2021), for what is complete

is either eternal or atemporal.
Similarly, in one otherwise enigmatic passage he says, It is impossible
that the first cause, being eternal, should be destroyed . . . (994b69). The
consensus is that this refers to eternal material principles.45 Speaking of
efficient causes, Aristotle suggests the sequence: man being moved by air,
air by the sun, the sun by strife, and so forth (994a57). If this sequence has
a terminus, the terminus would have to be something eternal (such as, the
sun or the first mover); and Aristotle maintains that it does have a terminus.
Speaking of formal causes, he declares that all rest on indivisibles (994b2021).
We know these indivisible essences to be one and, thus, also eternal or, as we
might say, atemporal.46
In short, sequences of each of the four causes terminate in some being that
is eternal or outside of time. These termini are the highest beings that serve
to cause being and truth in the others. Again, if the terminus of every causal
sequence must be eternal or atemporal, to argue that all causal sequences
terminate, as Aristotle does in book , is to argue that there are eternal or
atemporal beings. That is to say, the argument of 1 should be read with the
argument against infinite series of causes in the following chapter.47 Then, the
proper terminus of a causal sequence is the being that is most of all, that is
most true, that is eternal, and that is uncaused by another. Since sequences
must terminate, there must be beings of this sort.
So in arguing that there are no infinite causal sequences, Aristotle is arguing
for first causes, and the first causes differ from what they cause in necessarily being eternal and uncaused. Because these eternal beings are not just the
first causes of being, but the causes of truth and the most true, they are most
intrinsically knowable, whether or not they are known to us. The knowledge
of these first causes is just the knowledge of first causes that Aristotle has
identified as wisdom or metaphysics since the beginning of the Metaphysics.
45. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:218; Apostle, ad loc. This need not be prime matter;
water is also eternal in the sense that it is indestructible into something else (2.2.3),
or so Aristotle believes.
46. See Halper, Form and Reason, 99100. Because forms are atemporal, they can
exist in changing sensibles, and the latter can, thereby, be known. Aristotle
argues that the form is not generated (Z8, 1033b1617). As such, form apparently belongs among what is always () and so not subject to time (Phys. 12,
221b34). Thus, Aristotle designates what always exists and what is not subject
to time with a term generally rendered aseternal.
47. Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle,II. L.2:C 289, also
thinks that the argument of 1 is connected with the argument of 2. But he
thinks the former proves that knowledge of the truth belongs to metaphysics and
the latter removes a reason for rejecting this conclusion.
202
And because the first causes are eternal, knowledge of them will differ from
knowledge of other causes. Hence, book s argument against an infinity of
causes amounts to an argument for first causes and, thereby, an argument for
the existence of a distinct science of metaphysics.
As in book A, Aristotle is inquiring most directly into the number of causes,
but the inquiry leads to conclusions about the character of some causes; specifically, he concludes that there are first causes that are eternal. We have seen,
too, that these first causes are each assumed to be one. There is a nice conjunction here of the roles of unity: it is unity that makes something a cause, unity
that makes it a principle of knowledge (2.3)48 and therefore true, unity that
makes something eternal, unity that makes it a being most of all, and unity
that allows it to be the first in a sequence of causes. This is a conjunction that
Aristotle leaves in the background, and it is easy to see why. The prominence
of unity here would suggest that the first cause of being is the one itself, an
Academic conclusion that Aristotle most emphatically rejects. Still, his first
causes are each one, even if their essence is not to be one.
Taken together, books A and are not only joint investigations into the
number of causes, but an extended argument for the existence of ungenerated
first causes and, therefore, of metaphysics. There must be a metaphysics. But
these books do not explain how it exists or, indeed, how it could exist. There are
formidable objections to the existence of a science of first causes that have not
yet been resolved. In particular, the science Aristotle has argued for does not
have the sort of generic subject and proper attributes he assumes, in his logical
writings, to be necessary for any science; there are grounds to ascribe different
and contrary types of unity to these highest causes; and, most of all, because
Aristotle has argued that there are highest causes without determining what
they are, he must decide which of contrary candidates for the highest causes
have the best claims. These issues take shape as the aporiai that Aristotle sets
out in book B. Knowing that the existence of the metaphysics has already been
decided is important for appreciating the way that Aristotle lays out the first
set. We will see that all the aporiai are one/many issues.
48. In 2.3, I argued that the one that is the principle of knowledge is properly one in
formula. Here, I suggest that any one can be a principle of knowledge because one
is a mark of a cause and to know is to know the cause. There is no contradiction.
We have seen that each cause can be known, and that any cause is, individually,
one. In general, we know something when we can give its formula, and the formula expresses its formal cause. But, obviously, we can also know the other causes,
and we can express them by giving their formulae. Thus, it is possible to expound
somethings material cause by giving a formula of its substrate. This formula
does not express the form of the thing, nor does it make the thing one in formula.
Despite the formula, the thing is still one in substrate by virtue of its matter. Each
one can be known through some sort of formula, but only the form is properly one
in formula. And each thing can be known somehow through any of its unities.
203
If this interpretation is right, book plays an important part in Aristotles

argument. One reason that the book has been excluded from the Metaphysics is
that its brief final chapter denies that we can expect the accuracy of mathematics
in the study of nature. This chapter has been thought to be an introduction to
a work on nature rather than a part of metaphysics, and s final lines do not
lead easily into book B. However, we saw earlier that accuracy is a character of
the subject matter of metaphysics, and that it is tantamount to unity. We have
just seen the surprising conjunction of unity assumptions that are implicit in
book , a conjunction that might suggest that the first cause could only be the
one itself and the causes that follow it the form numbers. In this context, 3s
insistence that the accuracy of our subject is not that of mathematics and that
we must discuss principles of nature is surprisingly apt and actually does set
the stage for the aporiai, some of which turn on including nature, as well as
mathematicals, within metaphysics.
CHAPTER
Book B: The Aporiai
Working through the problems peculiar to a fieldthe aporiaiis a standard

part of Aristotles philosophical method. In the Metaphysics the treatment
of these problems occupies an entire book. Aristotle states them in the first
chapter of B and then proceeds in the rest of the book to lay them out in
detail. They are also presented, more sketchily, in K 12. The three discussions vary slightly in order and content. The fullest treatment is that of B 26,
and I will focus on it here, numbering the aporiai in the order in which they
are presented there. I shall argue that nearly all the aporiai are manifestations of the problem of the one and the many. If this is right, then book B fits
perfectly with the concern that Aristotle ascribes to his predecessors in the
. The fourth and fifth aporiai of B 26 appear in B 1 as, respectively, the fifth and
fourth aporiai. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:226, uses the numbering of B 1.
He counts fourteen aporiai in both presentations because he does not number
1002b1232, a problem he takes as akin to the ninth and fourth (his fifth) aporiai
(I,249). P. Natorp, Thema und Disposition der Aristotelischen Metaphysik,
Philosophische Monatshefte24 (1888):559, takes this latter passage to be an amplification of the twelfth (Rosss fourteenth) aporia whose discussion immediately
precedes it. Natorp finds sixteen aporiai in book B because he does not think
that the questions asked at 995b2025 and at 996a11 are mentioned in B 26
and because he takes 1002b1232 as an addendum to the aporia that precedes
it, as I said. I concur with the usual view that 995b2025 is an appendix to the
aporia raised at 995b1820 and that 996a11 elaborates the immediately preceding aporia about actuality and potentiality. I take 1002b1232 to be a distinct
aporia. Giovanni Reale, The Concept of First Philosophy, 6683, also follows the
numbering of B 26 and counts fifteen aporiai. Arthur Madigan, trans. and ed.,
Aristotle. Metaphysics. Books B and K 12, Clarendon Aristotle Series (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1999), counts fifteen aporiai in B 26 and, because he takes
995b2025 and 996a11 as distinct aporiai, sixteen in B 1. However, because
Madigan breaks individual aporiai down into multiple issues, he really sees
many more than those numbered in either section. Like other contributors to
the Clarendon series, Madigan emphasizes the multiplicity of possible readings
and issues. In order to grasp the role of one/many problems in bookB, I adopt
what is, in effect, the opposite strategy. What results is a surprisingly coherent
reading that, I think, nicely locates B in the context of the Metaphysics and its
problematic.
205
206
Book B: The Aporiai
first two books of the Metaphysics. Of course, it is well-known that the aporiai
of book B arise from assumptions Aristotles predecessors make as well as
from assumptions he himself makes about the nature of science. However,
I locate the primary source of the aporiai in the assumption that Aristotle
ascribes to his predecessors in books A and and endorses himself: a cause
is one. More specifically, the first cause must be one. Because cause has a
plurality of meanings and functions in Aristotles philosophy and because
one is also said in many ways, this single assumption comes to be interpreted as many assumptions; and because there are, in each case, significant
obstacles to the first causes being one, examinations of this assumption
become one/many problems. These problems constitute the aporiai. This
last contention seems implausible at first hearing because Aristotle does not
usually pose the aporiai as one/many problems; he expresses them in his
own philosophical idiom. However, a close look at what is really at issue,
along with a key to translating his arguments into unity language, enables
us to see the connection. It need scarcely be mentioned that Aristotles
beginning from the problem of his predecessors does not imply that his
solution resembles theirs.
Aristotle does not explain his choice of aporiai. He does not derive them
from earlier books of the Metaphysics; and aside from the first aporia, which
is a question about causes, and the eleventh, a question about one and being,
the aporiai do not really draw on book A. Included among the aporiai are such
seemingly insignificant questions as whether one or many sciences treat both
the principles of ousia and the principles of demonstration and whether the
same science treats an ousia and its attributes. Missing from the list are the
two central issues of metaphysics: what is being? what is ousia? Because of
these omissions and because references to book Bs aporiai are so rare later in
the work, their role in the Metaphysics is often downplayed.
As is well-known, the literal meaning of aporia is lack of passage,
and Aristotle contrasts it with euporia, clear passage (995a2831). The
former term refers not merely to the problem but to the mental state it
engenders; Aristotle compares someone who is in aporia to a person bound
in chainshis thought is unable to go forward (995a3133). The aporiai are
knots or obstructions that inhibit the progress of thought. They must be
removed in order to make clear passage. Aristotle assumes that the process of going through these aporiai and subsequently removing them brings
about progress in metaphysics and, indeed, that the aporiai are necessary
for this progress.
How can thought be bound in knots? Perhaps by taking a wrong turn: some
scholars understand the aporiai to be incorrect conceptions, such as Platonic
Book B: The Aporiai
207
doctrines. Aristotle suggests that particular opinions are aporiai when, at

the beginning of B he calls the aporiai those [subjects] concerning which
some have held differently (B 1, 995a2526). Later, he claims that an incorrect doctrine will have [in consequence] many aporiai (997b1214), and he
proceeds to show these absurdities (997b14998a19). However, these absurd
consequences and the opinions that engender them do not bind thought into
knots by themselves. A Platonic principle might send thought in the wrong
direction, but neither it nor any single opinion could fetter thought. Rather,
thought is bound by an insoluble problem, and such a problem results when
the conclusion of a seemingly sound argument conflicts with other firmly
held opinions. In short, thought is bound because it is pulled in opposite
directions by an unsurmounted contradiction. Aristotle presents individual
aporiai in B26 by setting out arguments for opposite sides of an issue, and
most readers have seen that the aporiai are antinomies. Sometimes the
argument for one side is weaker than the argument for the other, and readers have often supposed that many aporiai are not truly problematic. This
is not surprising because some aporiai rely on conclusions argued earlier,
such as the existence of metaphysics, and because we know the Aristotelian
doctrines that untie the knots much better than the doctrines that generate
the knots. If, though, we take seriously Aristotles insistence that an aporia
obstructs thought, the arguments on both sides must be or, at least, seem
compelling. A measure of an interpretation of an aporia should be whether
it truly binds thought.
Since Aristotle puzzles through aporiai by presenting both sides of the
argument, book B holds little interest for those concerned primarily with
Aristotles doctrine. What attention it has received has been motivated
by two concerns. First, scholars interested in tracing Aristotles development have looked to book B as a place where he describes problems that
he personally finds troubling. Second, scholars concerned with Aristotles
philosophical method have looked to book B as detailing an important
part of it.
As we saw in Chapter 1, the idea that book B records Aristotles personal
philosophical crisis is advanced by the first proponent of developmental
interpretation, Werner W. Jaeger, and has been repeated by a wide variety of
. Owens, The Doctrine of Being,216.
. Meno gives an excellent description of what it feels like to be in aporia (Meno
79e780b4). He compares it to being numbed by a torpedo fish.
. The exception is Madigan, Aristotle. Metaphysics. Books B and K 12. He sees many
of the aporiai as clusters of problems rather than strict antinomies.
208
Book B: The Aporiai
scholars. Jaeger maintains that Book B develops simply and solely . . . the
problems of Platonic doctrine, problems that Aristotle himself felt because
he was, at that time, a Platonist, and Jaeger thinks that Aristotle subsequently
resolved the problems by rejecting the Platonic philosophy that generates
them. However, ascribing a Platonic origin to the aporiai does not imply that
Aristotles philosophy developed, any more than finding that a Democritean
assumption behind an aporia would compel us to suppose that Aristotle was
a Democritean. Nor does Aristotles treating a problem imply that he personally subscribes to the assumptions that generate it. The issue of the Platonic
origin of the aporiai is conceptually independent of developmentalism: some
scholars who reject developmentalism take the aporiai to arise from Platonic
assumptions, whereas other scholars who endorse developmentalism have
denied their Platonic origin. Unless we suppose that Aristotles merely
posing problems in B reflects his state at the time, we find no evidence of
developmentalism within the text of book B. I think that the widespread notion
that book B provides evidence for some sort of development derives from
comparing this book with the rest of the Metaphysics. We find that assumptions that B uses to generate aporiaisome are Platonicare incompatible
with views Aristotle expresses elsewhere and that it is only rarely that other
parts of the Metaphysics explicitly address or, even, mention the aporiai. It is
easy to surmise that book B is not tightly connected with the rest of the work
and must, therefore, reflect a different approach to the subject.
. Jaeger, Aristotle,19596. The quotation in the next sentence is from page 196.
G. E. L. Owen maintains that the Metaphysics confronts Aristotles own views
on the structure of the sciences as expressed in the Posterior Analytics, Logic
and Metaphysics, 178. (More on Owen later.) Irwin echoes this view when he
writes of Aristotle, They [the puzzles of book B] concern him because they
arise from his own previous views on the questions. . . . Readers of Aristotles
earlier works should feel exactly the sorts of puzzles that Aristotle sets out in
Metaphysics iii, Aristotles First Principles,16. Martha Craven Nussbaum sees
evidence for viewing book B as a catalogue of Aristotles personal difficulties
in the text, His imagery of bondage and freedom indicates that he found the
experience of dilemma anything but delightful (Nussbaums italics), Saving
Aristotles Appearances, in Language and Logos: Studies in Ancient Greek
Philosophy Presented to G. E. L. Owen, 276; also in The Fragility of Goodness: Luck
and Ethics in Greek Tragedy and Philosophy (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1986),247. Perhaps, but not necessarily. The image recalls his claims in
A 12 that theoretical science is pursued by those who are free from necessities
and that wisdom is the highest theoretical science: only someone not bound
by physical necessities could be bound by theoretical necessities, and only the
highest problems could completely impede thoughts progress.
. For specific references see the next paragraph.
Book B: The Aporiai
209
Besides Jaegers interpretation, there are, in the literature, at least three

other ways of treating the Platonic assumptions of book B. Arguing against
Jaegers claim that book B documents Aristotles crisis with his own Platonism,
Joseph Owens notes that there is no indication in the text of book B that the
Platonism attacked there was ever held by Aristotle himself. More likely, Owens
contends, this book criticizes Platonism because it was the view of Aristotles
audience, students in the Academy. This hypothesis is more plausible but no
more compelling than Jaegers. An alternative view, advanced by Suzanne
Mansion, is that book B simply belongs to Aristotles attack on Platonism: she
notes that it contains evidence of his mature views and that it aims to refute
Platonism. Fourth, rejecting the tenet held by all these scholars, that book
B does dispute Platonism, G. E. L. Owen maintains that Aristotles Platonic
period came late in his career and that book B does not criticize Platonism but
Aristotles own earlier anti-Platonism, particularly the views on the structure
of sciences expressed in the Posterior Analytics. Apparently, Owen supposes
that book B endorses Platonism.
There is something to be said for all these conflicting views of book B: we
will see that some aporiai are constructed by counterposing Platonism with
a view that is, or at least seems to be, implicit in Aristotles own sciences. But
in those cases, one side of the aporia criticizes Platonism whereas the other
side criticizes the standard, supposedly mature Aristotelian position. What
can we infer about Aristotles commitments if he argues against each side of
the aporia in order to advance supporting arguments for the other? In other
words, how can book B be supposed to assume either Platonism or Aristotles
own mature views if it criticizes both? None of the four hypotheses fully
acknowledges the antinomial structure of an aporia nor, consequently, explains
the arguments on both sides of each issue. Indeed, inasmuch as each hypothesis
explains only one side, the hypotheses tend to cancel each other out.
The second topic that has spurred scholars interest in Metaphysics B is
Aristotles philosophical method, and it is clear that setting out aporiai is an
essential part of Aristotles method. It seems to me that the recognition that
aporiai belong to Aristotles philosophical method undercuts the notion that
. Owens, Doctrine of Being, 25354.
. Suzanne Mansion, Les Apories de la Mtaphysique Aristotlicienne, in Autour
dAristote: Recueil dtudes de Philosophie Ancienne et Mdivale Offert Monseigneur
A. Mansion (Louvain: Publications Universitaires de Louvain, 1955),14849.
. G. E. L. Owen, Logic and Metaphysics in Some Earlier Works of Aristotle,178,
contends that the aporiai signal Aristotles return to Platonism. Speaking of the
first few aporiai, he says, The straightforward conclusions of the Analytics reappear in the Metaphysics in quite another guise: they have become problems which
must be resolved if any general science of is to be possible.
210
Book B: The Aporiai
book B records the philosophical problems he was struggling with when he

wrote it. If aporiai are essential to method, then they do not have to reflect
Aristotles personal difficulties or problems he found insoluble. A mathematician or a contemporary philosopher might well begin an exposition by noting
the central issues in her field and explaining why others have found them
troublesome. It is possible, of course, that both are true, that is, that Aristotles
standard method includes setting out aporiai and that those he set out in the
Metaphysics were troubling to him at the time and as yet unsolved. My point
is only that if setting out aporiai is a standard part of philosophical method,
we need not suppose that those set out here have personal significance for
Aristotle or that he had not resolved them when he wrote B.
The reason that most scholars do not see that method liberates us, as it
were, from developmentalism is that they think of Aristotles philosophical
method as exploratory rather than demonstrative. As Aristotle describes his
method in the Nicomachean Ethics:
It is necessary, as in other cases, to set out the phenomena (
), and after first working through the difficulties (),
in this way to show (), if we can, all the common opinions (
) concerning the affections or, at least, most and the most authoritative of them. For if the difficulties are resolved and the common opinions
remain, these latter will be sufficiently shown (1145b27).
In an important paper, G. E. L. Owen argued persuasively that the phenomena here include both observed facts and the common opinions (endoxa)
about those facts.10 Hence, he supposed the method to consist of setting out
the observed facts and common opinions, discovering an inconsistency, and
endorsing those opinions that are most in accord with common usage and
perceived facts. Inconsistencies arise from conflicts in observed facts, in what
is said about them, or between the facts and what is said about them; and
a solution preserves common opinionsit sets out the phenomena or, as
usually translated, saves the appearances. In other words, the method consists
of noticing inconsistencies among what is widely believed and, then, avoiding inconsistency by discounting the fewest and least authoritative beliefs.
Philosophical work in ethics consists of sifting through common opinions to
10. G. E. L. Owen, Tithenai ta Phainomena, in Aristote et les Problmes de Mthode,
83103, esp.87.
Nussbaum, Saving Aristotles Appearances,27275, denies that Aristotle has
any notion of a Baconian realm of facts. She maintains that all of the aporiai,
including the metaphysical ones, arise from conflicts in common opinions.
Book B: The Aporiai
211
arrive at a consistent set. Since Platonic notions and other beliefs of the wise
count as common opinions, this method of refining beliefs is compatible with
Aristotles revision of his own Platonic beliefs that could have constituted his
development. Moreover, insofar as common opinions are beliefs shared by
some community, the affinities of the method Aristotle sketches here with
contemporary ordinary language philosophy are obvious; and they explain not
only why contemporary scholars have been fascinated with Aristotles method,
but also why they have understood the communitys agreement as the standard
of a successful resolution of inconsistency.
The phrase as in other cases indicates that Aristotle uses the same
method elsewhere, and his setting out common opinions in Metaphysics A
and and raising aporiai in B suggest that it is at work in the Metaphysics. If
so and if the method is understood as I have sketched it here, metaphysics
would depend upon the beliefs of a particular community. It would be particular, and, to the extent that it is dependent upon current opinion, arbitrary.
Most accounts of Aristotelian method current in the literature and, indeed,
all four hypotheses advanced to explain the Platonic assumptions behind
the aporiai assume that Aristotles metaphysical aporiai are formulated in
response to a particular set of circumstancesparticular problems Aristotle
or his audience experienced or a particular doctrine, current in Aristotles
time, that requires refutation. So understood, Aristotles method is subjective,
based on his perception, rather than intrinsic to his subject, and compatible
with developmentalism.
The problem is that such a method could not produce the sort of certain
truth that Aristotle seeks and thinks he has discovered in metaphysics.11 One
11. Obviously, the absence of truth is not a problem for someone who thinks that aporiai
remain unsolved. See Pierre Aubenque, Le Problme de ltre chez Aristote: Essai
sur la Problmatique Aristotlicienne, Bibliothque de Philosophie Contemporaine
(Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1983); Sur la Notion Aristotlicienne
dAporie, in Aristote et les Problmes de Mthode, S. Mansion (Louvain: Publications
Universitaires de Louvain, 1961),319; and Aristoteles und das Problem der
Metaphysik, Zeitschrift fr Philosophische Forschung15 (1961):32133. Aubenque
argues that the problems posed in book B remain unresolved and that metaphysics is a fundamentally aporetic discipline. It follows that Aristotles science of
metaphysics is not the solution of these difficulties but the analysis of why they
do not admit of solution. Metaphysics never becomes the theology that Aristotle
envisioned because the first causes remain unknowable. This view is provocative, but it leaves us with an Aristotelian science that fails to meet Aristotles
own requirements for science. Metaphysics then has the function of proving its
own non-existence (as a science), scarcely a view Aristotle could countenance.
Ironically, Aubenque is in much the same position as other commentators, for
the consequence of his analysis is that the aporiai of book B are not objectively
determined by the science.
212
Book B: The Aporiai
scholar who recognizes the problem is Terence H. Irwin. He distinguishes

a strong dialectic that can demonstrate truths from weak dialectic that
can arrive at only plausible conclusions.12 Aristotle needs the former because
he claims that the principle of non-contradiction is the highest and most
firm principle of knowledge. The sifting through opinions that constitutes
weak dialectic could never produce a conclusion that was certain. I will
have more to say about strong dialectic in the next chapter, but let us note
12. Terence H. Irwin argues that Aristotle discovered metaphysics when he recognized that there are arguments for the principle of non-contradiction, Aristotles
Discovery of Metaphysics, 21029. Since one of the highest principles admits of a
dialectical proof, Irwin reasons that there can be a non-demonstrative science of
being in general. One difficulty with this interpretation is that it implicitly rejects
the notion that metaphysics would, like other sciences, demonstrate essential
attributes of some nature, a view that Aristotle enunciates in 1, 1003a2628 and
E 1, 1025b718; for Irwin does not understand the principle of non-contradiction
as either an ousia or an attribute. Moreover, even if Irwin were right about the
strong dialectic for this principle, the actual demonstration of the principle is
not among the aporiai Aristotle sets out in book B. Aristotle asks whether the principle can be included in metaphysics, not whether or how it can be demonstrated.
Of course, if it is included in metaphysics, then this science should demonstrate
it, but Irwin would need other strong dialectics to include it and to resolve the
other aporiai. Finally, it is ironic that though Irwin aims to show that metaphysics
meets Aristotles requirements for a science, he does not end up treating it like
an Aristotelian science.
If he is right, the science of metaphysics becomes possible only by radically
revising the requirements for a science. One problem with this is what to do
with remarks later in the Metaphysics (e.g., 1025b718) that express the same view
of the character of science to be found in the Posterior Analytics, namely that
a science demonstrates attributes that belong to a particular nature. Another
problem is that an alteration in the criteria for a science of the sort that Irwin
envisions would invalidate the arguments against Platonism that Aristotle
advances in book B, for these arguments depend on the requirements described
in the Posterior Analytics. Perhaps Irwin would respond to these charges by
insisting that the discovery of metaphysics does not require the rejection of all
the former criteria for a science, but this merely points up another defect in his
discussion: besides the capacity for demonstrations, other criteria for a science
also seem to be inconsistent with the existence of metaphysics. Irwin needs
to explain how these other criteria are met before he can credit Aristotle with
discovering metaphysics. (I shall argue that other criteria are more significant
than the capacity to demonstrate and that the latter need not be altered to apply
to metaphysics.) He does not show how all the obstacles to metaphysics posed
by the aporiai are overcome. Moreover, for Irwin the aporiai are not intrinsic to
metaphysics except as a record of Aristotles personal struggle, and the necessity
of going through the aporiai is merely retrospective. So even though he aims to
show that metaphysics meets Aristotles requirements for a science, Irwin does
not end up treating metaphysics like a science.
Book B: The Aporiai
213
that the question whether the principle of non-contradiction is true is not

among Aristotles aporiai, and that Irwin does not apply strong dialectic
to what is among the aporiai. So even though Irwin sees the need for some
method of demonstrating certain truths, he does not include the aporiai
within it or use it to resolve them. Yet, there is no doubt that Aristotle thinks
that metaphysics knows truths, that the aporiai are a central component of
his metaphysical method, and that he thinks that he can, with this method,
arrive at truths. In my view, it is crucial to understand how the aporiai can
lead to truth. Understanding this point removes them from any necessary
connection with subjectivity.13
The view I argue in this chapter is that the aporiai are objectively necessary for any thorough treatment of the subject matter of metaphysics. Book
B says as much in its very first line: It is necessary in regard to the science
sought for us to go through first concerning what it is necessary to puzzle
through first (995a2425). The puzzles are first for us because they are
first for the discipline, and they are necessary for the discipline. Later
in the first chapter, Aristotle points out the importance of going through the
aporiai if we are to attain the end of the science of metaphysics (995a33b2).
That is to say, working through the aporiai is necessary in order to acquire
metaphysical knowledge. In this respect, they resemble the problems that
a mathematician would address and solve, problems that are intrinsic to
her discipline because they are inherent in the subject matter treated by
that discipline. To be sure, there are significant differences between mathematical and metaphysical aporiai: for one, the mathematician seeks to solve
problems, the metaphysician to remove them. Thus, a metaphysical aporia
functions like a reductio ad absurdum, and metaphysical argument is almost
entirely indirect. Mathematics uses indirect proof, but it also has positive
demonstrations. I suggest that the use Aristotle makes of the aporiai in his
metaphysics reflects the kind of demonstration that the subject matter of
metaphysics admits. Likewise, the content of these aporiai reflects issues
that Aristotle thinks any science of first causes must investigate. Having
worked through books A and , we will not be surprised to learn that the
issues intrinsic to metaphysics are mostly one/many issues. We saw there
that Aristotle thinks a first cause must be one, that it is important to determine how many such causes there are, and that there cannot be an infinite
sequence of them. The aporiai are the difficulties that arise in conceiving of
13. Vasilis Politis, Aristotle on Aporia and Searching in Metaphysics, in Proceedings
of the Boston Area Colloquium in Ancient Philosophy 18 (2003): 16274, also recognizes the problem of subjectivity and proposes a solution. More on Politis in
note 71.
214
Book B: The Aporiai
a distinct science that would know entities that are one in this way. If this
is right, there is nothing arbitrary or subjective about metaphysical aporiai
and, as in other Aristotelian sciences, the problems of metaphysics are
determined by the science itself.
These conclusions require some speculation, as any interpretation of book
B must. But my interpretation has important consequences: it allows us to see
where the aporiai come from, how they are connected with metaphysics, and,
eventually, how the Metaphysics proceeds to resolve them. Moreover, since their
resolution will turn out to follow nearly the same order as the Metaphysics, my
interpretation contributes to showing the coherence of the workan unusual
conclusion, but a strong point in its favor.
There is a still larger issue at stake. Aristotle speaks as though working
through the aporiai is intrinsic to any metaphysics. Are the aporiai problems that
Aristotle treats because he or his contemporaries are or were Platonists of some
sort or because he makes particular assumptions about science or metaphysics
and, thus, problems that emerge from the climate of his times, or are they, as he
claims, problems necessary to work through in order to acquire metaphysical
knowledge, that is, problems that are intrinsic to any metaphysics at any time?
The latter, I think. If this is right, then we must ask: how could problems that
often seem to be relics of Platonism or the arcana of Aristotles own out-moded
notion of science be intrinsic to any metaphysics? Answering both questions
requires understanding what is at issue in the aporiai and this latter, in turn,
requires a thorough examination of the text. Hence, I shall work through each
aporia in detail. My first task is to show that most aporiai arise from the assumption about unity that we have already seen at work in books A and . Then, I show
how this assumption or, rather, as it comes to be interpreted, these assumptions
are intrinsically tied to metaphysics. If assumptions about unity are intrinsically tied to metaphysics, and if they generate most of the aporiai, then because
Aristotle recognizes the necessity of resolving the aporiai, he must suppose that
the one/many problem is central for metaphysics.
My discussion of the aporiai falls into three parts because the aporiai fall into
three main groups, each addressing a particular problem.14 The first, aporiai
14. A more common approach is to divide the aporiai into two groups constituted
by the first four and the remaining eleven. For example, Jaeger, Studien zur
Entstehungsgeschichte der Metaphysik des Aristoteles,99100, claims that the first four
aporiai deal with the constitution of metaphysics as an independent philosophical
discipline and the remaining aporiai deal with the object of this discipline. Natorp,
Thema und Disposition,559, divides the aporiai into four groups: (1) the first
four, (2) the fifth, (3) the sixth through fourteenth and the sixteenth, and (4) the
fifteenth (my numbering).
Book B: The Aporiai
215
15, ask how the subject matter of metaphysics can be one, a question that,
I shall argue, turns out to be tantamount to, how is metaphysics possible?
The second group, aporiai 610, ask about the principles of metaphysics; the
problem is, how is each principle one? The third group, aporiai 1115, consider
particular candidates for the first principle and ask whether such entities
have the requisite unity to be first principles. Support for this division of the
text will emerge from the discussion of individual aporiai. Before taking up
each group of aporiai, I begin with a brief exposition of a paradigm case. This
chapter concludes with some reflections on Aristotelian method. Any claim
that Aristotles text is neatly organized is likely to meet with skepticism, if
not outright derision.
Yet, not only do I think that book B is carefully organized, but I also argue
that Aristotle proceeds to resolve each set of aporiai in turn: aporiai 15 mostly
in books and , the second set mainly in the central books,15 and the final set
in the final books of the Metaphysics. This symmetry is upset a bit by aporiai
5 and 10 not being fully resolved until the final books. There are systematic
reasons why Aristotle raises and resolves the first set first: they raise objections to the existence of his science, and their resolution constitutes the first
stage of that science. The next set of aporiai follows because of the way the
first set is resolved, and the final set is, again, the outgrowth of the second
and its resolution. There is no necessary order within a set, but we will see
that Aristotle often expounds an aporia by drawing upon his exposition of the
preceding aporia. If this is right, the aporiai Aristotle expounds in book B set
the program for the Metaphysics; and if these aporiai themselves arise from
the problem of the one and the many, then this problem sets the program
of the Metaphysics. The nearly unanimous consensus among contemporary
scholars that the aporiai are not carefully organized and that they do not constitute a program for the Metaphysics reflects a failure to recognize Aristotles
Owens, Doctrine of Being,23233, objects to such divisions on the ground that
Aristotle is not consistent about the order of the aporiai: in B 1 he places the fourth
after the fifth while in B 2 the fifth follows the fourth. Owens does not see how
there can be a sharp division between the first four and the rest if Aristotle does
not respect any boundaries between the presumed groups. My inclusion of the
fifth aporia in the first group obviates this objection. Owens notes that Aristotles
viewpoint changes after the fifth aporia (p. 234), a point that is also consistent
with my division.
An alternative approach to the organization of the aporiai is advanced by
Robert Brumbaugh, Aristotles Outline of the Problems of First Philosophy,
Review of Metaphysics7 (1954):51121. He uses verbal clues from B 1 to divide the
aporiai into groups.
15. See Halper, One and Many in Aristotles Metaphysics: The Central Books, 24447.
216
Book B: The Aporiai
organizing principle.16 The reason for this may lie in scholars focusing on
the wrong problem, the problem of being. Of course, Aristotle does think that
metaphysics must inquire into being and ousia, but this is a conclusion and,
thus, cannot organize his discussion. Appreciating the one/many problem
will help us to see how he arrives at this conclusion and how he proceeds to
inquire into being in stages.

The paradigm of the procedure that I think Aristotle uses to generate the aporiai
appears in the first book of the Physics. There (A 2, 185a20b25), he undertakes
an assessment of the Eleatic claim that all is one. Before he can determine
its truth, he needs to decide what it could mean. The problem is that one
is said in many ways. Aristotle mentions three types of one that the Eleatics
could have had in mind: (1) the continuous, (2) the indivisible, and (3) the one
in formula (185b79). (Metaphysics 6 also summarizes its rich discussion of
the things said to be one by mentioning the same three groups1016b89;
cf. 1017a46.) To refute the Eleatic thesis, Aristotle needs to refute each of the
three possible interpretations: all is continuous, all is indivisible, and all is
one in formula. This turns out to be fairly easy. None of the interpretations
makes the claim plausible; and after brief arguments against each interpretation (b925), the Physics proceeds to consider other accounts of principles.
What is particularly interesting about Aristotles treatment of the Eleatics
is his need to understand their claim about the one in terms of his own more
refined distinctions. Once he has distinguished a plurality of ones, it remains
ambiguous for the Eleatics, or anyone else for that matter, to speak simply of
the one. Aristotle must determine which one they are speaking about: he
needs to translate their claim into his own unity language. This done, the
claim of the Eleatics is easily dismissed when all interpretations are shown
to be false. We can imagine a slightly different outcome. Suppose that two or
more incompatible translations of the claim had been true, or suppose that
both were false but that we had some independent ground for believing in
the truth of the claim. What could we do? We would be at a loss, blocked from
16. Owens, Doctrine of Being,256. Reale, The Concept of First Philosophy,36162, includes
B in Aristotles unitary plan. It is widely thought that Aristotle does resolve the
aporiai in the course of the Metaphysics, even if they are not his main concern.
On the other hand, developmentalists have often claimed that book B presents a
program for the work that Aristotle eventually abandoned; see Madigan, Aristotle.
Metaphysics. Books B and K 12,xxiixxv.
Book B: The Aporiai
217
progress; we would be in aporia. It is just this sort of translation into a more

refined unity language that I think gives rise to many aporiai in book B.17
The metaphysical aporiai differ from the critique of the Eleatics in that
they are aimed primarily at Platonism. Scholars concerned with Aristotles
criticism of Plato have tended to focus on the arguments against the forms
being separate from sensibles. In the preceding chapter I argued that Aristotle
regards one as a more important character of the forms and that separation
belongs in consequence of unity. As Aristotle puts it, One [is] the essence of
the [Platonic] forms (A 7, 988b46; cf. 6, 988a1011). What type of unity does
Aristotle think Plato intends to ascribe to the forms? A central and recurring Aristotelian criticism of the Platonists position is that they ascribe two
inconsistent types of unity to form. One formulation of this critique occurs
in A 9, where Aristotle writes of the Platonists:
It is clear that if there is some One itself and this is a principle, one is
being said in many ways; for otherwise [what they say] is impossible
(992a89).
The problem, described earlier in this passage, is that the Platonists identify
the forms as numbers and speak of each number as one while also recognizing that its constituents are units, each of which is also called one (992a19).
In other words, Platonists who speak of a One itself take it to be both an
indivisible constituent and the nature of the whole.
In M 8 Aristotle elaborates on what I take to be nearly the same criticism
(1084b232). He accuses the Platonists of making one a principle in two ways:
How is one a principle? They say [that it is a principle] because it is
not divisible. But both the universal and the particular or element are
indivisible. However, [they are indivisible] in different ways, the first in
respect of formula, the second in respect of time (1084b1316).
17. Although Aristotle discusses the Eleatic claim in the Physics, he thinks that a
discussion of whether all is one and immobile properly belongs to another science (Phys. A 2, 184b26185a1). His hesitation about including this topic in Physics
stems, I suggest, from its amounting to a discussion of whether or not physics has
a subject matter; for he denies that particular sciences inquire into the existence
of their subject matters (Met. E 1, 1025b718). On the other hand, it does belong to
metaphysics to inquire into the question whether all is one and to ask whether
metaphysics has a subject matter. Hence, that the discussion of multiple senses of
one in Physics A 2 seems to belong to metaphysics rather than physics is consonant
with my interpreting book B as an examination of multiple translations of one.
218
Book B: The Aporiai
The idea of a principle that is indivisible in time has troubled commentators,18

but we can make sense of it if we recall that the Metaphysics defines one by
continuity as what has a motion that is indivisible in time ( 6, 1016a56).
Thus, something that is indivisible in time is continuous, and Aristotles point
is that the Platonists make one a principle because they suppose it must be
indivisible in formula and thereby universal, but also because they think it
must be indivisible in time and thereby one as an element and a particular.19
They take form to be one in both these ways. But, Aristotle objects, a single
principle seems unable to have both kinds of unity (1084b1820, b32).
Along the same lines is Aristotles suggestion that the Platonists make the
forms both one in number and one in species, thereby ascribing two apparently
incompatible types of unity to them (Z 14, 1039a26b6). And this latter is, in turn,
closely connected with his accusations that Platos form is both an individual
and a universal (M 9, 1086a3034; cf. Z 15, 1040a89 and 16, 1040b2730).
Aristotles sources for these claims and their legitimacy are unclear, but
this need not concern us. It is clear that Platonists are not explicitly ascribing incompatible types of unity to their forms. They say simply that form
18. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 2:452, claims that an opposition between indivisibility in formula and indivisibility in time would be unparalleled in Aristotle
and unintelligible. He proposes that Aristotle is not asking in which way the one
itself is indivisible, but in which way it is a principle, that is, whether the one is
a principle in definition or in time. Julia Annas, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books M
and N, Clarendon Aristotle Series (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1976),183, accepts his
reasoning and speaks of an ellipsis in the text. But the passage claims only that
the Platonists make the one itself the principle because it is not divisible. That is to
say, being indivisible is what qualifies the one as a principle. To add that the one
can be a principle in two different ways is not an objection to the Platonists. On
the contrary, they take this duality as a point in their favor. Aristotles objection
is rather that very different sorts of things are one in distinct ways and, thus,
that the one could not be one in both ways. In any case, if the one is a principle
because it is indivisible, then the sort of principle it is should be a function of
the kind of indivisibility it has. By speaking of indivisibility in time instead of
indivisibility in number, Aristotle signifies that he means a material numeric
unity rather than a formal numeric unity (cf. 8, 1074a3337), and he avoids the
objection that individual and species are indivisible in the same way because both
are indivisible in formula ( 6, 1016a32b6).
19. It might be objected: since the numeric unity is not material it cannot be indivisible
in time (cf. 6, 1016b2426). But part of Aristotles criticism is that the Platonists
make numbers concrete: they make them ousiai. Aristotle thinks they treat the
unit as matter (1084b1920). He mentions an acute angle as temporally prior to a
right angle (1084b1718). It is prior insofar as it is a constituent; an acute angle (in
matter) would more readily move all at oncethe defining feature of continuitythan the right angle of which it is a part because one side of the latter could
be at rest while the rest twirled around it.
Book B: The Aporiai
219
is one (Symposium, 211b1). When Aristotle considers how they

use form, he arrives at conclusions about how they think it is one. Thus, his
criticism of Platonism is constructed along the same lines as his criticism
of the Eleatics. He begins with a central Platonic principle, apparently, that
the form is one, and translates it into his own more refined unity language.
However, it admits of two translations: form is one in formula and form
is one by continuity. Although a case might be made for each translation,
Aristotle argues that they are incompatible. Whereas he considers and rejects
the interpretations of the Eleatic claim all is one individually, his strategy
toward Plato is to place the multiple interpretations next to each other and
to argue their incompatibility. He thinks that Plato takes form to be one in
both ways because Plato does not distinguish clearly enough between the
different ways that one is said.
I propose that the aporiai presented to us in book B are the result of a similar
procedure. The dichotomies inherent in these aporiai represent alternative
translations of the Platonic principle that form is one. In each case aporia results
because two translations are equally well (or equally poorly) supported. Form
seems to be one in a variety of different ways, and insofar as it is one in any
way, it is a principle. Since, though, the ways of being one are incompatible with
each other, to make a case for one way is to make a case against another. We
might expect Aristotle simply to dismiss the Platonic claim that form is one, just
as he dismisses the Eleatic principle. Yet, interestingly, he insists on the truth
of the Platonic claim. Again, whereas the Eleatic principle is wrong no matter
how it is translated, there seem to be grounds for supposing that the Platonic
principle is right no matter how it is translated. What could those grounds be?
The answer is obvious: Aristotle accepts that one is a principle or, rather, that
whatever it is that is a principle must be one and that its being one is an essential
mark of its being a principle. The problem that Aristotle confronts throughout
book B is that there are different, and incompatible, ways of being one, most
of which have some support and any of which would mark their bearer as a
principle of some sort. Thus, it is not the Platonic principle that form is one
but the multiple interpretations of it that are at stake. Indeed, unless Aristotle
is assuming the Platonic principle, the aporiai are not at all puzzling because
there is an easy escape route: simply deny the unity of form. But there is an
important kernel of truth to the Platonic claim. Aristotles problem in book B
is, in effect, to explain where the truth does not lie, that is, to explain why all
attempts to translate the Platonic claim into more refined unity language fail
to yield a single translation. It is my aim in the rest of this chapter to trace a
number of the aporiai to the Platonic claim that form is one or, equivalently,
the claim that the first cause is one. I shall test this interpretation of the aporiai
by using it to explain the text of Metaphysics B. The question of why Aristotle
220
Book B: The Aporiai
accepts the truth of the unity claim is ultimately most important, but I will
set it aside until the final sections of this chapter.

The first four aporiai all have the same form. Each asks whether it belongs to
one or to many sciences to treat some particular topic:
1) Does it belong to one or to many sciences to treat all the genera of causes
(995b56; 996a1820)?
2) Does it belong to one or to many sciences to treat the ousiai and the
principles of demonstration (996b2627)?
3) Does one or many sciences know all ousiai (997a2730)?
4) Does the same science know ousiai and their attributes (997a2730)?
Aristotle draws up these aporiai in B 2 by showing that there are seemingly
valid arguments against including each group of topics in a single science and
also against there being many sciences of each group. Since the arguments
against the one-science alternatives and those against the many-sciences
alternatives are similar, I shall consider each set of arguments together, beginning with the latter.
4.2.1 Many Sciences
The arguments against many sciences treating the topics mentioned in the
aporiai are usually brief. They are reductio arguments that begin by assuming
that each group of topics in question does indeed fall under many sciences.
In the case of aporia four, that would mean a science of ousiai and another
science that treats attributes alone. Aristotles tack is just to deny that a science can treat only attributes (997b3234). For the other aporiai, he argues
against many sciences simply by asking, which of these many sciences will
be metaphysics (996b15; b1112; 997a1617)? Only aporia one elaborates on
the question. It assumes distinct sciences of each of the four causes, and then
asserts that, From what was distinguished earlier concerning which of the
sciences ought to be called wisdom, each [of these sciences] has reason to be
so called (996b810). The earlier discussion is the characterization of wisdom
in A 2. Aristotle does not discuss the science of material causes here, but the
science of each other type of cause would have some of the characteristics of
wisdom Aristotle sets out there: (1) A science of final causes would be architectonic and sovereign over the other sciences (996b1012); (2) a science that
Book B: The Aporiai
221
treats formal causewhat Aristotle here describes as the what it is or the

ousiawould have as its subject what is most knowable (996b1314). A 2 claims
that wisdom (metaphysics) is both most architectonic (982a1619; 982b47)
and most knowable (982a1416; 982a30b4). Finally, (3) a science of efficient
causes treats the cause that we must know in order to know changing things
(996b2223); and wisdom, as we learn in A 2, knows all things (982a810, 2122).
Inasmuch as each of these sciences would have characteristics of metaphysics,
each would have a good claim to be metaphysics.
Similarly, the many-sciences alternative of aporia two begins from the
supposition that one science studies the ousiai and another the principles of
demonstration. Again, each science would have some of the characteristics
that A 2 ascribes to metaphysics. A science of the principles of demonstration would treat what are most universal and the principles of all things
(997a1213), and this is a character of what metaphysics knows (982a1115).
A science of ousiai would, as we saw in the previous aporia, have as its object
what is most knowable. Consequently, were there distinct sciences of ousiai
and the principles of demonstration, each would have a good claim to
bemetaphysics.
Aporia three seems to follow the same pattern. Aristotles argument against
the many-sciences alternative consists simply of the question, If there is
not one science [of all ousiai], of which ousia must this knowledge be posited
[997a1617]? Apparently, he thinks that if there were distinct sciences of
distinct ousiai, each would have some claim to be the science of what is most
knowable. We can see that none would be the science of all ousiai. Aristotle also
rejects the many sciences alternative of aporia four by raising a question. He
asks, if ousiai and their attributes belong to different sciences, which science
would investigate the attributes (997a3233)? In general, an Aristotelian science treats a kind of ousia and demonstrates its essential attributes. It seems
absurd to treat the attributes apart from the ousiai because they cannot be
known through themselves.
In this last aporia, the issue seems to be that the science of attributes has as
good a claim to be the first science as the science of ousiai. Likewise, Aristotle
poses the many sciences alternative of the first aporia in terms of competing
claims, apparently equally strong, of the sciences of individual types of causes
to be metaphysics. And aporiai two and three are presented in the same way.
Commentators seem to locate the aporiai in the difficulty of deciding which
among competing sciences has the best claim to be metaphysics. But all these
claims would be easily dismissed did we not have some independent ground
to insist that there is a metaphysics, namely, the argument of book that there
are first causes that can be known. The issue is, first, which of the many sciences could know these first causes.
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Book B: The Aporiai
There is another issue here, though. Some one science needs not only to
know whatever causes are the first causes, but to decide that they are indeed
the first causes. That requires knowing all the causes to some extent. Similarly,
the science that would know the demonstrative principles or the first ousia or
whatever else is prior in being, must know that these subjects are prior. This
requires having some knowledge of all the subjects known. Indeed, metaphysics is not merely a science of first causes and ousiai but a science that knows
everything through these first causes. The puzzle here is that if many sciences
each know some topics that must be known by metaphysics, then no science
knows all the topics that must be known by this science and, consequently,
there can be no metaphysics.
We can put the problem another way. Aristotles discussion here makes
clear that in order to have the characteristics that common opinion ascribes
to wisdom, there are various topics that must fall under it. If, however, these
topics fall under many sciences, there will be no one science that treats them
all and, consequently, no science with all the characteristics of wisdom, that
is, no metaphysics. If the wise man knows what is most knowable, and formal
cause or ousia is most knowable, then wisdom or metaphysics must be a science
of formal cause or ousia; and a science that did not include this, for example,
a science devoted exclusively to the final cause, could not be metaphysics. On
the other hand, the science devoted exclusively to formal cause would not be
ruling and so would lack a character that wisdom would have were it also a
science of final cause. In short, were there many sciences of the causes, there
would be no one with all the characteristics of metaphysics and so no science
of metaphysics at all. The same sort of reasoning applies to the other many
science alternatives. If topics that must fall under metaphysics are treated by
many sciences, then there is no single science that treats these topics and,
hence, no metaphysics. This is the argument that is implicit when Aristotle
asks of the many sciences, which will be metaphysics?20
20. The apparent conclusion of the many-sciences alternative of the first aporia, so that
to contemplate each of these causes would seem to belong to a different science
(996b2426), has puzzled commentators. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:229, understands this sentence as the conclusion of the preceding arguments against one
science of the causes. Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria, 186.3133,
suggests adding a no to the text so that it would read, So the investigation of
each of the causes seems to belong to no other science [than metaphysics]. My
interpretation allows us to understand the text without emendation. The arguments that immediately precede 996b2426 show that each science treating a kind
of cause could claim to be the science of the highest cause, metaphysics. 996b2426
then infers that there would be separate [highest] sciences of each of the causes.
We are to understand the tacit conclusion that there would then be no science
that treats all the highest causes, that is, no metaphysics. In short, the arguments
Book B: The Aporiai
223
Again, this argument against the many-sciences alternatives does not show
that the topics in question could not fall under many sciences: it does not
show that many sciences of these topics would be impossible.21 What it shows
is that the existence of metaphysics is inconsistent with the many-sciences
alternatives. The existence of many sciences of these topics is only absurd if
Aristotle assumes that metaphysics must exist. There is, accordingly, an easy
way to escape from the bonds of these aporiai: Aristotle could just deny the
existence of metaphysics or, alternatively, he could simply insist that the work
of metaphysics is done by multiple sciences. But, as I said, Aristotle implicitly
argues for metaphysics by arguing in Metaphysics that there is a first cause
and by treating all the first causes together in Metaphysics A and .
Even so, it is surprising and disconcerting to move from this general
acknowledgement that there are first causes that can be known to the stipulation that they be known in a strict Aristotelian science that studies all ousiai
and demonstrates all their attributes. For Aristotle, though, to be known is to
be known by a science, an Aristotelian science. In asking how all the causes
could belong to one science or how the ousiai and the demonstrative principles
could belong to one science, he is pointing out the difficulty of grasping the
topics that need to belong to metaphysics and implicitly raising the question
of how these topics could be known in a science. In general, the issue in the
first four aporiai is not whether metaphysics exists but how it can exist. How
can it meet Aristotles requirements for science? What needs to be true if
metaphysics is to exist? Because the science of the highest causes also knows
all things to the extent possible, through the highest causes, metaphysics must
know all things universally. It must also include in its subject matter all the
causes, the principles of demonstration, all ousiai and all per se attributes. In
order for it to exist, all these topics must be capable of being included in a
single science. Insofar as the many science alternatives proposed in the first
four aporiai would omit some of these topics from metaphysics, they must be
rejected. Any of them would make metaphysics impossible.
On the other hand, these arguments against many sciences and, thereby,
for one science of metaphysics do not themselves show that there is a metaphysics. They remove objections to the existence of metaphysics and, thereby,
show metaphysics to be possible. This possibility hinges on the topics that
metaphysics needs to treat not being such that they can only be treated by
many sciences.
for many sciences of causes amount to the denial of metaphysics, apparently a
reductio ad absurdum.
21. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:228, insists that this is no presentation of an argument against the many sciences alternative of the first aporia because he assumes
that such an argument should show that there cannot be many sciences.
224
Book B: The Aporiai
Is this argument Aristotles? It seems open to a host of objections: Even if we

accept the assumption that there is a metaphysics, why should Aristotle insist on
preserving the picture of it which he sketches in A 2, a picture which is derived,
in that text, from common opinions about what a wise man knows? Why insist
that this science must be like his other sciences? And why not allow at least some
of the work assigned to this one science to be done by many? Would it not, for
example, be possible to assign some topics, say the demonstrative principles, to
subordinate sciences? There is one notable case where the same thing is treated
by two distinct Aristotelian sciences, human beings: insofar as we are physical,
we are known by the science of physics; insofar as we can act, we are known
by the science of ethics. If human beings can be treated by two sciences, why
object to all things being treated by multiple sciences?
One way to answer these questions is that a science dedicated to the first principles and highest causes of all things must know which principles and causes
are the highest, and it cannot do so unless it includes in its scope all principles
and causes and all things. How could we be sure that a particular cause is the
highest cause unless we can consider it along with other causes? How could
we decide whether, for example, the demonstrative principles or the causes are
higher unless we had a science that included both in its scope? Moreover, the
very idea of a metaphysics, a science that treats the highest causes of all things,
presupposes that all things fall under it. How could it know that something is
the highest cause of all things unless it could also know all things?
Aristotle could have used this reasoning in book B to reject the manysciences alternatives. Instead, he exploits his standard view of the character
of science. Perhaps, he does so because by talking about each topic, he draws
attention to what metaphysics needs to be a science. His most detailed account
of the character of a science is contained in the Posterior Analytics (A 28), but it
is summarized at the beginning of Metaphysics E (1025b716) and also in the
discussion of the second aporia (997a59).
Aristotles notion that a science has a fixed structure is alien to modern
readers. For us, sciences are marked out only by vague characterizations of
subject and method, and even these are often broken down by interdisciplinary inquiries or, in the physical sciences, new techniques and theories. But,
then, our notion of what counts as scientific knowledge is also much looser
than Aristotles: whereas the standard contemporary formula for knowledge
is justified true belief, Aristotle thinks that knowledge () must
always be true (Z 15, 1039b3233; An. Po. B 19, 100b58) and that its objects
cannot be otherwise (N. E. Z 3, 1139b1921).22 With such requirements, an
22. On the question of how, given these criteria for knowledge, Aristotle thinks
nature can be known, see my Aristotle on Knowledge of Nature in Form and
Reason93116.
Book B: The Aporiai
225
Aristotelian science could not but be rigidly defined. Furthermore, because

the objects of his sciences can be more or less universal, they are embedded
within each other, and so too are the sciences that treat them; thus, there are
sciences of mammals and of animals that stand to each other as the genera
that they treat. Since we know something when we grasp its cause (Met. A
3, 983a2526), the proper form of knowing is not a simple proposition, but
a triadic relationship. Thus, Aristotle thinks that a science standardly treats
a single genus; using axioms and demonstrative principles, it demonstrates
the attributes that belong to instances of the genus in respect of the genus
essential nature.23 This essential nature is the cause of the attributes belonging essentially to the genus. To grasp this relation between genus, essence,
and attribute is to have demonstrative knowledge. Since a genus typically
includes other, narrower genera that have more determinate essences,
Aristotelian sciences are, as I said, typically embedded within each other.
Thus, there is besides geometry, which is the science of closed plane figures,
also the narrower science of triangles that aims to demonstrate attributes
that belong to this genus in respect of its essence, as well as the still narrower
science of equilateral triangles that demonstrates attributes peculiar to them
in respect of their essence. Aristotle is very concerned that demonstrations
proceed from the appropriate level of generic generality; that, for example,
attributes true of all triangles be demonstrated not of equilateral triangles
but of triangles (An. Po. A 5, 74a25b4). He terms such demonstrations universal and primary because the genus is both most universal and the first
to which the attribute belongs.
This characterization of science stands behind the claim in the fourth aporia
that ousiai and per se attributes could not be treated by distinct sciences because
it is difficult to say what a science of attributes could be (997a3234). As I said, an
Aristotelian science could not include only attributes or, rather, there could not
be a science that knows them only as attributes. A science of attributes would
have to treat them as if they were ousiaias mathematicians, for example, treat
quantities (M 3, 1078a1723)but, doing so, it would not grasp their essential
relation to the genus of ousia to which they belong, as metaphysics should. Then,
too, a science that treated ousiai without their attributes could not demonstrate
anything of them. By the same token, an Aristotelian science could not contain
only demonstrative principles unless it treated them as ousiai, in which case
there would be no demonstrative principles from which to demonstrate their
23. How Aristotelian sciences work has been discussed by Jaakko Hintikka, On the
Ingredients of an Aristotelian Science, Nous6 (1972):5569; and TerenceH. Irwin,
Aristotles Discovery of Metaphysics,21113. On Hintikkas paper, see Dorothea
Frede, Comment on Hintikkas Paper On the Ingredients of an Aristotelian
Science, Synthese28 (1974):7989; and Hintikkas Reply to Dorothea Frede,
Synthese28 (1974):9196.
226
Book B: The Aporiai
attributes, nor could these principles, as themselves subjects of the science, be

used to demonstrate attributes of ousiai that were also included in metaphysics.
Since metaphysics is a science, Aristotles characterization should apply to it: it,
too, should have a subject genus, and it should demonstrate per se attributes of
this genus. (Looking closely at the first aporia, we can see that it assumes that
metaphysics treats an ousia and attributes of it, such as changes996b1317,
2123.) If metaphysics is a universal science, its genus and attributes must
include all things, and that means all causes, principles, ousiai, and attributes.
On the other hand, Aristotles view of science implies that distinct sciences of
these topics would entail that they belonged to distinct genera. In this latter
case, the topics could fall under a single science only if the genera to which
they belonged were all embedded in the subject genus treated by metaphysics, a possibility obviated by the fact that, as we shall see, being is not a genus.
Again, if what ought to be the constituent parts of metaphysics instead belong
to distinct sciences, there will be no science that knows all things universally
and, consequently, no science of metaphysics.
It is easy to see how Aristotle would reject the counterexample I suggested
earlier, two universal sciences of all things. Each of these sciences should demonstrate per se attributes that belong to all things in respect of their essential
nature. Since the essential nature would be the same in each case, the sciences
would have to be the same as well. Is the inclusion of human beings under
two sciences, physics and ethics, an exception? No, the reason that Aristotle
is able to distinguish physical and ethical sciences of human beings is that he
distinguishes two actualities that are the subject matters of distinct sciences;
the difference between the physical and ethical treatment of us is the difference
between our first and second actualities. We fall under two sciences because we
have, in some sense, two natures, even if one is the actualization of the other.
Metaphysics, however, is the science of all things; there cannot be a plurality
of universal sciences that are distinguished by their subject matter.
In sum, the character of an Aristotelian science dictates that a science of
highest causes must include all of the subjects considered in the first group of
aporiai. The existence of many sciences of these topics would be inconsistent
with a universal science of all things. Even while Aristotle argues against
what might seem to be his own view that distinct subjects fall under distinct
sciences, he retains his regular characterization of a science.
4.2.2 One Science
Since the many-sciences alternatives amount to the denial of metaphysics
and since Aristotle obviously thinks metaphysics does exist, we might expect
him to argue for the one-science alternatives. Instead, he argues against the
Book B: The Aporiai
227
one-science alternatives even more vigorously than he argues against the

many-sciences alternatives. These are the arguments it is most crucial to overcome and, therefore, most crucial to set out clearly. It is necessary to examine
these arguments carefully if we are to see how Aristotle ultimately uses them
to show the possibility of metaphysics. The essential point to grasp is that
they all turn on a single assumption, that one science treats one genus.
We can start with Aristotles arguments in aporia one against all four causes
falling under a single science. He apparently refers to two. The first consists
only of the denial that the causes are contraries (996a2021). The second argument points out that there are some things that do not possess all the causes;
mathematical entities, for example, seem to lack both a moving cause and the
good (final cause) (996a21b1). To make any sense of these remarks we must
fill in Aristotles unstated assumptions.
The first argument is relatively easy to see. If the causes were contraries, they
would fall under one science; for, as Aristotle often remarks, contraries fall under
one genus,24 and one science treats one genus. Since the causes are not contraries,
they do not fall under one genus nor, accordingly, under one science.
The second argument is similar. Why does the existence of thingssuch
as, mathematical entitiesthat possess some but not all the causes constitute
an argument for denying that there is one science of all the causes? It is often
suggested that Aristotle here simply assumes that a science treating one type
of cause must treat them all.25 However, this assumption would be hard to
justify. It is inconsistent with such Aristotelian sciences as mathematics, which,
as just noted, does not treat all of the causes; and it has no basis in anything
that either Plato said or Aristotle thinks Plato said.
There is an easier and more cogent way to make sense of Aristotles argument.
Suppose that there were one science of all of the causes. Then, in accordance
with the Aristotelian view of the character of science, there would either be a
genus of causes or the causes would be per se attributes of some genus. If there is
a genus of causes, they will all have a common nature; but because there cannot
be principles of motion (efficient causes) among what is immobile (996a2223)
while what is immobile is itself a final or formal cause, and because efficient
causes do move (996a2629), there is no common nature among the causes.
(This argument assumes that there is nothing in common between what moves
and what is immobile, a point Aristotle argues in I 10.) If, instead, the causes
were per se attributes of a genus, then each instance of the genus must either be
24. K 3, 1061a1819; 2, 1005a35; Phys. 1, 251a30; De Anima 3, 427b56; An. Pr.
A 1, 24a21; A 36, 48b56; B 26, 69b910; Topics A 10, 104a1516.
25. G. Colle, Aristote: La Mtaphysique. Traduction et Commentaire. Livres2 et 3 (Louvain:
Institut Superieur de Philosophie, 191231),21112. It is repeated by Ross, Aristotles
Metaphysics 1:227, and by Owens, Doctrine of Being, 221.
228
Book B: The Aporiai
a cause in all four ways or must be a cause in some one waydepending on

whether the causes are per se attributes as (1) having angles equal to two right
angles is per se to triangle (every triangle has angles equal to two right angles)
or as (2) odd and even are per se to number (every number is either odd or even).
But metaphysics treats everything. So each being is either a cause in all ways or
in some one way. The first alternative is impossible because mathematicals do
not have all the causes: in mathematics nothing is proved through the efficient
or final causes (996a29b1). The second is impossible because instances of this
type of per se attribute are contraries, and the causes are not contraries. Hence,
the causes can be neither the genus nor the essential attributes known by a science. Therefore, all the causes cannot fall under a single science.
The reason why commentators have stumbled over this argument is that
they have been looking for Platonic assumptions. If my interpretation of
Aristotles arguments is correct, they are based on the assumptions Aristotle
himself makes about the character of a science. A single science of all the
causes is inconsistent with Aristotles assertion that one science treats one
genus, for the causes do not fall under a single genus.26
That Aristotle draws on his own view of the structure of science to refute the
one science alternative of the first aporia is scarcely surprising, for the position
that one science treats all the causes is either Platos opinion or an opinion that
Aristotle thinks is Platos. In the Meno Plato asserts that all natures belong to
the same genus (81cd). To be sure, Platos word genus does
not have the same technical sense as the term has for Aristotle; but Plato is
claiming that all things are akin, and all can be known with one and the same
knowledge. This passage and other Platonic references to the one, direct and
indirect, may be the basis for Aristotles assertions that Plato thinks that one
is the nature of the forms (A 6, 988a1011; A 7, 988b46). Again, whether or not
Aristotles interpretation is correct need not concern us here. More importantly,
if the view he ascribes to Plato is right, then all the causes do fall under one
science. And it also follows that there are no particular sciences. What Aristotle
shows is that this Platonic view of a single universal science is inconsistent
with the characteristics he ascribes to a science.
Thus, the argument contained in the first aporia against a single science of
all causes is an argument against Platonism, as Aristotle conceives of it. But, as
we saw earlier, all the causes must be included in one science if there is to be a
metaphysics. The significance of Platonism in the first aporiaand in subsequent
26. Elmar Treptow, Der Zussamenhang zwischen der Metaphysik und der Zweiten Analytik
des Aristoteles (Munich: Anton Pustet, 1966),1324, argues that the first four aporiai
derive from assumptions that Aristotle makes in the Posterior Analytics about the
character of an apodictic science. He includes the assumption about the unity of
a subject genus among these.
Book B: The Aporiai
229
aporiai in this setis that it provides a way to affirm the possibility of metaphysics. Were Platonism correct, there would be a single science of all the causes and
of the topics discussed in the other aporiai, and metaphysics could exist. The
problem is that there are strong arguments against Platonism that also count as
arguments against metaphysics: Platonism is inconsistent with Aristotles view
of the character of a science because all the causes do not fall under a single
genus. A further problem, not mentioned in the discussion of aporia one, is that
if there were a single science of all things, there would be only one science and,
thus, no particular sciences. In general, then, the aporia is that there must be one
science of the causes if metaphysics is to be possible, but there cannot be one
science of the causes if Platonism is incorrect. The problem of the first aporia is
to explain how metaphysics can be possible without Platonism.
The arguments against the one-science alternatives in the second through
fourth aporiai also show that a single science of the topics under consideration
would be inconsistent with the character of Aristotelian sciences. Aporia two
argues in two ways against one sciences treating ousiai and the principles of
demonstration: (1) the principles of demonstration are not proper to one science
but are used in many (996b33997a2), and (2) the consequence of including both
principle and ousiai in one science is that all the attributes that are demonstrated
will be included in a single genus (997a311). Aristotles arguments must be
reconstructed from these sketchy remarks. I understand the first argument as
follows: The demonstrative principles are used in every science in the same way.
There is no more reason that they belong to one science rather than another,
and if they did belong to one science, there is no reason that it be the science of
ousiai. The thought is that demonstrative principles cannot belong to one science
because, in that case, they could only be used of one genus, whereas they are
used in all sciences. Belonging to one science, they would fall under the genus
that it treated, and thereby not under genera treated by other sciences. Since
all sciences use principles, they cannot fall under a single science. Aristotle is
assuming that there is no single science that knows everything.
Before the second argument, Aristotle asks, in what way will there be knowledge of these principles (997a23)? Whereas the first argument assumes that
the principles are included in any science that uses them, there are other ways
to include the principles in a science. In general, a science treats one genus and
uses the principles to demonstrate essential attributes. Thus, the principles are
used in a science, but to suggest that they are known by the science is to suggest
that they are among what is demonstrated, the essential attributes.27
27. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:230, thinks that the argument assumes that if the
principles were included in one science, they themselves could be demonstrated.
He does not suggest that they would be attributes.
230
Book B: The Aporiai
Not all of them could be demonstrated because some would be needed as

principles of demonstration (997a59). Now not only do demonstrated attributes
belong to the genus, but attributes demonstrated from those attributes also belong
to the genus. If, then, the principles of demonstration are attributes of some
genus, then when we demonstrate from them, what we prove must also belong
to the genus as some sort of attribute. Inasmuch as every demonstrated attribute
is demonstrated from the principles of demonstration, all these attributes will
belong to the same genus in which these principles are. Hence, there will be a
single genus of all knowledge. Alternatively, if all the causes are included in one
science, and all the demonstrative principles as well, then that science will be
able to demonstrate everything that belongs in respect of any cause. But all the
attributes belong in respect of some cause. Hence, a science that included all the
demonstrative principles along with all the causes would demonstrate all the
essential attributes and, again, there will be a single genus of all knowledge.
This science would be metaphysics, of course. But metaphysics would
also be the only branch of knowledge, and this Aristotle rightly judges to be
absurd. The problem here is that including the principles in a single science, as
a metaphysics requires if it is to know all things, results in a science that would
swallow up all knowledge. Hence, this second argument against one science
of principles is the opposite of the first, and together they constitute a kind of
dilemma. On one hand, the principles cannot fall under one science because
that would preclude them from being used in all sciences; on the other, if the
principles did fall under one science, there would be only one demonstrative
science, and no special sciences. Both horns of the dilemma assume that there
are many sciences. Either the principles fall under one of these many sciences
and cannot be used in the others or they fall under one that swallows up the
others, contrary to the assumption that there are many.
This last absurd consequence also follows from the one science assumption
of aporia three. Here the topic under consideration is all the ousiai. Suppose all
ousiai were included in one science. They would constitute the subject genus
of the science. Since a science demonstrates the per se attributes of its subject
genus, the science of all ousiai would be a science that demonstrated all the
per se attributes of all ousiai (997a1722).
Aristotle does not explain why a science demonstrating all the attributes
would be absurd, but the reason is clear from the character he ascribes to a
science. Aristotelian sciences demonstrate attributes that belong, either individually or together (like odd and even), to all instances of a genus in respect
of their generic nature. If there were one science that demonstrated all the
per se attributes, then each attribute would have to belong to each ousia. If, for
example, capacity for speech is a per se attribute of human beings, then it
alone or it and its contrary would also belong to every other nature as well.
Book B: The Aporiai
231
Moreover, inasmuch as this science demonstrates all the attributes, there

could be no other science besides it, and all knowledge is again swallowed
by metaphysics.
This may be Aristotles reasoning here, but it is woefully inadequate as it
stands. Ousia is one of the ten categorial genera. There should be a science
that knows the whole of this genus and demonstrates the essential attributes
that belong to each instance of it. Additionally, we would expect there to be
more specific sciences that treat particular species of ousia and demonstrate
of each the essential attributes that belong to it. According to this standard
Aristotelian picture, treating all ousiai in one generic science would not result
in a science that demonstrates all the essential attributes, but only those that
belong to every instance of this genus. Sciences of particular species of ousia
demonstrate the classes of essential attributes that belong to their subjects.
The generic science and the specific sciences together would demonstrate
all the per se attributes. But this is hardly the specter of a single science that
swallows up all other sciences that Aristotle paints as the consequence of one
science of all ousiai.
In fact, Aristotle rejects this picture of a generic science of all ousiai. The
reason is that, as he argues in I 10, sensible and intelligible ousiai differ in
genus. Inasmuch as they do not belong to the same genus, these ousiai apparently cannot fall under a single science, and no per se attributes belong to them
both. Interestingly, Alexander mentions this distinction between sensible and
intelligible ousiai twice to explain why there is no science of all ousiai.28 But
Aristotle does not mention this distinction here, nor does he reject one science
of all ousiai on the ground that the ousiai do not belong to one genus.
There would be another problem with a generic science of all ousiai: it
could demonstrate only attributes that belong to every ousia, and these are
the weakest and emptiest attributes.29 Such a science would have a very weak
claim to be the highest science; it would be so universal that it would have
little content, and it could scarcely be said to rule or organize the other sciences
(A2, 982a1617). But, Aristotle does not offer this argument either.
There are, then, at least three reasons that Aristotle might have rejected
the conclusion that a science of ousiai would demonstrate all the attributes.
That he does not offer any of them suggests that he has a different concern
here. The question is still why a science of all ousiai would also demonstrate
all their per se attributes. In order to distinguish multiple species of ousiai
28. Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria, 191.1518, 193.916.
29. This genus of ousia resembles what Owens, Doctrine of Being,1, describes as
Alexander of Hales view of being. Owens argues vigorously that it is wrong to
ascribe it to Aristotle.
232
Book B: The Aporiai
that might each have its own attributes, Aristotle needs a pair of contraries
that can serve as differentiae. A differentia cannot be an instance of the
species it differentiates (B 3, 998b2227). Nor could attributes that belong
to all ousiai serve as differentiae. Also, a pair like male and female cannot
differentiate ousiai because they belong to matter (I 9). If, then, all the ousiai
did constitute one genus, there might be no attributes that could differentiate the genus. In this case, every attribute that is demonstrated belongs to
the genus as a whole, and a science of all ousiai would demonstrate all the
attributes. On the other hand, if there are contraries that do differentiate this
genus, and they are proper to the generic substrate, then the species would
follow from the generic nature. In this latter case, the science that knows all
ousiai would demonstrate all their differentiae, as well as everything that
follows from these differentiae. Since these differentiae are themselves per
se attributes, the science of ousiai would demonstrate all the per se attributes
of all ousiai. If this is right, the reason there would be one science of all
the attributes is that all the attributes, including those that constitute the
species, follow from the generic nature. The prime example of attributes
following from a generic nature is the presumed derivation of the Platonic
numbers: each number is generated from the indefinite dyad, which serves
as the substrate, and the one itself. Since Platonists take numbers to be ousiai,
they could agree that a science of all the ousiai would also demonstrate all
their per se attributes.
The common opinions Aristotle speaks of using to demonstrate the
attributes are the demonstrative principles from the previous aporia because
it is from such principles that there are demonstrations (996a2628). Just as in
that aporia, Aristotle assumes that being able to demonstrate such principles
will enable the science to demonstrate all that follows from them, so here he
assumes that being able to demonstrate essential attributes, such as the differentiae, the science will be able to demonstrate all the attributes that follow
from them. This explains the mysterious last sentence of the aporia:
For that [genus] about which it demonstrates falls to one science, and
the [principles] out of which also fall to one science, whether the same
or different, so that either these [sciences] or the one composed of both
will examine the attributes (997a2325).
The point is that whether the demonstrative principles are included with all
the ousiai in one science or they are each treated in distinct sciences, a single
science would have to know all the per se attributes. Since these attributes
cannot be known by one science, there evidently cannot be a single science
of either all ousiai or the demonstrative principles.
Book B: The Aporiai
233
On this interpretation, the second and third aporiai raise a serious problem.
Aristotle addresses it in book by showing that the one science that includes
all ousiai and the demonstrative principles is hierarchical without being able
to demonstrate the natures of its parts or their attributes. In general, the differentiae that divide a genus are further determinations, forms, or actualizations that are proper to, but do not follow from its generic nature. Because
he eventually distinguishes the genus as the matter of the differentia (Z 12,
1038a59; H 6, 1045a1725), Aristotles generic sciences do not threaten to flow
beyond their boundaries: the forms or differentiae that could be said to act
on this matter come from outside of it. However, in a Platonic context where
this crucial distinction is not made, that is, in a context where the one itself
is a formal nature and agent that generates form-numbers and they, in turn,
generate sensibles, a single science is not just a threat; it is endorsed. Again,
Plato has a science that treats all the ousiai and all the demonstrative principleshe has a metaphysics. What he does not have is any other sciences.
Aristotles problem is to understand how all the genera of ousiai can, despite
their independence from each other, be treated in one science.
On the other hand, we can ask, since there are particular sciences, what
need is there for metaphysics? Each genus is known by a science that treats
it alone. What could a science of all genera of ousiai add to this knowledge?
What is there that is common to all ousiai? If they had a common nature, it
would be at such a high level of universality as to provide nearly no knowledge. A science of this nature, even though it would be one, would not qualify
as metaphysics.
In aporia four, Aristotle clearly intends to use the absurdity of a single science to dispute the possibility that there could be one science of both ousiai and
per se attributes. He maintains that the consequence of including them both
in a single science is that ousiai will be demonstrated (997a3032). The reasoning is difficult to see. Aristotle generally maintains that an ousia or essence is
assumed and attributes demonstrated of it (E 1, 1025b1116; 997a1921). Ross
suggests that Aristotle suspends this view to generate the aporia,30 but this
would mean that the fourth aporia is not a genuine difficulty. Instead, I propose
that we try to understand the reasoning here from Aristotles examples. To
illustrate the aporia, he supposes that solids, lines, and planes are ousiai and
asks whether the same science knows these and also the attributes pertaining to each genus, that concerning which the mathematicians demonstrate
(997a2630). Now lines are per se attributes of plane figures, and plane figures
are per se attributes of solids (An. Po. A 4, 73a3437). If, then, the science demonstrates attributes of solids, it will be demonstrating lines and plane figures.
30. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:231.
234
Book B: The Aporiai
But lines and plane figures are also ousiai. Hence, the science that included all
attributes would also demonstrate ousiai.
Initially, this may seem to be an aporia only for a Platonist, but it really
poses a problem for Aristotle as well. For Aristotle recognizes mathematical sciences that treat quantities as if they were ousiai. Were there a single
science of both ousiai and all per se attributes, the same science would treat
quantities as both attributes that could be demonstrated and as ousiai to which
attributes belong. In other words, if there were one science of all ousiai and
all attributes, there would be demonstrations of ousiai. But ousiai or what are
treated as ousiai are the subject genera. A science assumes a subject genus and
demonstrates essential attributes of it. The subject genus of one science could
constitute per se attributes that another science demonstrates. But if there is
one science of all per se attributes, then there will be demonstrations of some
of what serves as ousiai.
Although this interpretation is necessarily speculative, it has the virtue
of making sense of the argument and Aristotles examples. Whatever his
argument, there should be no doubt that it draws on the assumption that a
science demonstrates attributes of a single genus. The absurd consequence
that ousiai will be demonstrated arises from supposing that all per se attributes can be demonstrated of a single genus. Whereas the previous aporias
argument against one science points to the absurd consequence that all per
se attributes would be included in one science, the parallel argument in the
fourth aporia assumes that one science would demonstrate all per se attributes
and argues that this would entail demonstrating ousiai. This argument shows
why one demonstrative science of all attributes would be absurd. We can
work backwards from this conclusion to justify claims of the second and
third aporiai that one science demonstrating all per se attributes would be
absurd. Further, we can now, in the light of the fourth aporia, reinterpret the
third aporias claim that a single science of all ousiai would entail that there
is only one demonstrative science: if numbers, other mathematicals and the
subjects of every particular science are ousiai of some sort, then including
them all in the subject genus of one science would imply that there is only
one demonstrative science. Aristotles remarks are too terse to determine
that this is his meaning or to exclude it.
In sum, each one science alternative of the first four aporiai founders because
it is inconsistent with Aristotles view that a science must treat one genus.
The first aporia argues that the four causes do not fall under a single science
because they do not fall under one genus. The second through fourth aporiai
show the absurd consequences of supposing that the topics they consider do
fall under one genus.
Book B: The Aporiai
235
Yet, to concede that these topics fall under many sciences is to deny the
existence of metaphysics. As we saw earlier, if there is to be a metaphysics
there must be one science that includes in its scope all types of causes, the
principles of demonstration, all ousiai, and all per se attributes. Further, as
also noted earlier, it is just because Aristotle insists that metaphysics has the
same characteristics as other sciences that he rejects many metaphysical sciences. If metaphysics is to be the highest and most universal science it must
somehow include all of these topics in its subject genus. Surprisingly, both the
one science and the many sciences alternatives clash with Aristotles view of
the character of science. Though the one science view is Platonic, both sides
of all four aporiai depend upon Aristotelian arguments.
In each of the four aporiai the issue is the same. All the topics need to be
included in one science if there is to be a metaphysics, and in order to include
them in one science they must belong to or be attributes of a single genus.
However, because there are arguments against including these topics in a
single genus, they do not seem to belong to a single science, and thus there
can be no metaphysics. The many sciences alternatives must be incorrect
becauseit is assumedthere must be a universal science, a metaphysics;
but it seems that there cannot be a metaphysics because the topics it must
treat cannot fall under one science.
4.2.3 Aporia Five
The fifth aporia differs in form from the first four and addresses a broader
issue. It asks whether it is necessary to say that only sensibles are ousiai or
whether there are others besides these; and whether these [others] are [said]
in one way or there are many genera (1, 995b1416; 2, 997a34b1). Of course,
it is the Platonists who think there are other ousiai, namely, forms and mathematical intermediates; and this aporia arises because there are arguments
for and against Platonism. Aristotle discusses these arguments in books M
and N, but the fundamental issue here is the nature and knowability of the
sensibles. We find implicit in Aristotles presentation of the aporia in B 2 the
same assumption that proved so important for the four preceding aporiai.
Aristotles discussion begins with arguments against the existence of forms
and intermediates. First, he points to difficulties with the forms the Platonists
describe. He claims that Platonists posit forms that are exactly like sensible
things except that they are eternal (997b512). Though Aristotle does not explain
what is objectionable about eternal sensibles, what he probably has in mind is
that sensible things are defined through their motions (cf. Z 10, 11035b1618;
11, 1036b2829) whereas eternal things are, it would seem, unchanging. Thus,
an eternal sensible man or horse is a contradiction in terms.
236
Book B: The Aporiai
Aristotle also rejects the intermediates posited by Platonists, the mathematical

entities between sensibles and forms. If such intermediates did exist, there would
need to be a heaven besides the sensible heaven, along with an intermediate sun,
moon, and others. Would these intermediates be mobile or immobile? Aristotle
claims they could be neither: It is unreasonable that they be immobile and
entirely impossible that they be mobile (997b1920). But he does not explain
why. Let me suggest that the argument implicit here resembles what I take to be
the preceding argument against forms. First, an intermediate heaven that was
immobile would be unreasonable because the heavenly bodies are defined
through their motions and a heaven that existed apart from matter could not
have the very characters that make the sensible heaven what it is. On the other
hand, the intermediate heaven, like the forms, would have no matter. Since
matter is necessary for motion, it is impossible that an intermediate heaven be
mobile. Hence an intermediate heaven is impossible.
Furthermore, if intermediates did exist, there should be intermediates
between all forms and sensibles, even non-mathematical forms; thus, there
would be animals intermediate between the animals themselves and sensible
animals (997b2024). Besides the ontological difficulties with this conclusion,
Aristotle suggests that it implies a proliferation of sciences:
If geometry differs from geodesy by its treating what is not sensible while
geodesy treats what is sensed, it is clear that there is some science besides
medicine and the other sciences intermediate between medicine itself
and particular medicine. Yet how is this possible? For there would need
to be healthy things besides the sensibles [that is, besides the sensible
healthy] and the healthy itself (997b2632).
Why would the existence of intermediates imply the existence of another
science? Because one science knows one genus, and intermediates would
constitute a genus distinct from both sensibles and forms. If, then, there
were mathematical intermediates, there would apparently be three sciences
distinct in object but indistinguishable in content: there would be distinct
sciences of the genus of sensible lines, the genus of intermediate lines, and
the genus of formal lines. Aristotle quickly corrects this picture; he denies
that there could be a science of the sensible genus, a geodesy, because its
objects are perishable (997b3234).31 Still, this leaves us with two sciences
31. See Jaakko Hintikka, Time, Truth, and Knowledge in Aristotle and Other Greek
Philosophers, in Time & Necessity: Studies in Aristotles Theory of Modality (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1973),6192.
Book B: The Aporiai
237
treating what is really the same subject. In short, the objection to intermediates is that because they constitute a distinct genus, there must be many
sciences of the same ousia.
Turning to the other side of the aporia, Aristotle asks, how could there be
only one genus of ousia? He claims that astronomy does not treat sensibles, for
(1) geometers do not speak of sensible lines, (2) the motions of the heavens are
not like those the astronomer treats, and (3) points do not have the nature of
stars (997b34998a6). The argument he seems to have in mind is that there must
be ousiai besides the sensible ousiai because astronomers speak of non-sensible
lines, figures, and points in order to understand sensible lines, motions, and
stars. In themselves, sensible ousiai are (apparently) unknowable. In order that
there be knowledge there must be ousiai besides the sensible ousiai. Hence,
there cannot be just one genus of ousia.
The rest of Aristotles discussion of this aporia concerns difficulties that
result from assuming that intermediates exist in sensibles (998a719). Aristotle
argues that the same absurd consequences follow as when the intermediates
are assumed to exist apart from sensibles. There will be a heaven besides the
sensible heaven. Furthermore, insofar as the intermediates are in sensibles,
two distinct things are in the same place (998a1319). Aristotles point is that
as long as sensibles are distinguished from intermediates, there will be many
genera of ousiai, and the attendant difficulties will follow.
In sum, the central issue in the fifth aporia is whether knowledge of sensibles
requires that there be a distinct genus of intermediates. The dilemma is this: if
there is only one genus of ousia, sensible ousia, it cannot be known; but if there
are many genera of ousiai, a genus of sensibles and a genus of corresponding
intermediates, then there are either many genera of the same beings or many
genera of different beings. The former case is absurd and the latter implies
that, again, sensibles cannot be known.
As in the first four aporiai, Aristotles concern in the fifth is the subject
matter of a science, and again the key assumption is that one science treats
one genus. The requirement for a science to exist is that there be a distinct
class of entities that admits of being known. But if such entities do exist,
and if they are what sciences of sensibles know, then how could there be a
science that truly treats sensibles? Although Aristotle does not bring this
aporia to bear on the existence of metaphysics in book B, we can easily do
so. Metaphysics is supposed to be the science of all beings. How could such
a science exist if some beings, namely, sensibles, are intrinsically unknowable? If, on the other hand, we follow the Platonists and say that sciences of
sensibles have as their objects the intermediates, then there will be many
sciences of the same sensibles, and neither they nor metaphysics could truly
238
Book B: The Aporiai
know sensibles.32 In other words, whereas one science of all beings seems
to be impossible because the sensibles are unknowable, many sciences of
all beings seem to be equally impossible because there will be duplicate
sciences that are indistinguishable. For metaphysics to exist one science
must know all beings, even sensibles; but such a knowledge seems to be
impossible. Although Aristotles formulation of the fifth aporia differs from
those of the first four, the fifth also turns on the problem of how a subject,
sensible ousiai, that must be known by metaphysics can belong to a single
genus that is treated by one science. Moreover, insofar as the fifth aporia is
primarily about how sensiblesrather than, as generally taken, forms and
intermediatescan be known, we can look for the crux of a resolution in
Aristotles treatment of the first principle of knowledge in 38.
If the preceding analysis is correct, the first five aporiai of book B all wrestle
with the possibility of metaphysics. The issue is how the topics that ought to be
included in this science could possibly fall under a single science if one science
treats one genus and if these topics do not belong to one genus. To show that
metaphysics is possible Aristotle needs to show that they do somehow belong
to a single genus. For him the problem of the possibility of metaphysics is the
problem of finding a subject genus for it. This is a serious problem, one that
cannot be remedied simply by insisting on the validity of one side of the aporiai
or by pointing to Aristotles doctrine of scientific knowledge. Indeed, part of
the source of the problem is Aristotles own doctrine about the requirements
for knowledge, namely, that the subjects known by a science must fall under
one genus and that the task of a science is to demonstrate per se attributes of
that genus. To show that all beings can indeed fall under one science Aristotle
needs to overcome apparently legitimate difficulties.
Although the assumption that one science treats one genus is an artifact
of Aristotelian science, there is a less precise formulation that may capture
Aristotles problem more perspicuously for contemporary readers: the objects
known by a science must be the same or similar. If there is to be one science
of all things, they must somehow, in some respect be one. The problem is just
that all things seem to be too dissimilar to admit of treatment by one science.
On this analysis Aristotles first five aporiai arise from the conflict between
what must be true for metaphysics to exist and the difficulties of meeting
these requirements.
32. Compare this problem with what Parmenides calls the worst difficulty in Platos
Parmenides, 133b134e.
Book B: The Aporiai
239
Stated in these terms, the aporiai seem easy to resolve: they vanish if metaphysics does not exist. We need only deny the existence of metaphysics to be
released from the antinomies. If, though, the aporiai are so easily dispatched,
Aristotle must have some strong and independent ground for endorsing the
existence of metaphysics.
Having now considered the first set of aporiai, we can raise again the question, why does Aristotle assume the existence of metaphysics? He shows that
it exists when he argues for the existence of non-sensible ousiai, the unmoved
movers. But this does not come until book . The existence of non-sensible
ousiai is not assumed in book B; it is an issue in the fifth aporia (997a34998a19).
There are grounds for thinking that there are nonsensible ousiai that need to be
included in the scope of metaphysics. But they are not decisive, and Aristotle
includes this issue among others that cause difficulties. The four other aporiai
in this group are concerned with including less obscure entities in metaphysics.
Anyway, the science of metaphysics that book B assumes is not the science of
non-sensible ousiai, but the science of the first principles and highest causes of
all things. The principal ground for questioning its existence is the difficulty of
including all things in one science, given the character that Aristotle ascribes to
a science. This is not to say that book s conception of metaphysics as a science
of separate ousiai is incompatible with book Bs conception. Once Aristotle has
shown that the topics that need to be treated by metaphysics can fall under
a single science, he can inquire into first principles. The point is that book B
and the two books that precede it are raising a prior problem: how there can
be a single science of all the topics that need to fall under metaphysics? More
specifically, how there can be a science of all things and their causes? This is
the science whose existence book B assumes.
Again, what justifies this assumption? Aristotles description in Metaphysics
A 2 of the characteristics that wisdom ought to have scarcely constitutes an
argument for the existence of this science. Nor is there anything in the first
chapter of A that proves that the universal knowledge that is sought can be
found. The argument that there are no more than four causes and the arguments that earlier accounts of them must be inadequate, that is, the arguments
that make up the rest of book A, do not prove that there is a science of highest
causes, though this inquiry into all the causes does provide de facto evidence
that all the causes can be treated in a single inquiry. It is in book that we
find what amount to indirect arguments for the existence of a science of first
causes; for there Aristotle argues that there cannot be an infinite number of
causes by showing that every series of causes terminates. In other words, he
shows that in each series there must be a first cause: So that if there is no
first cause, then there is no cause at all (994a1819). To show that each series
has a first cause is not, of course, to show that there is a first cause simpliciter.
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Book B: The Aporiai
Still, the science that knows the first causes of all series would be the first science. The problem is, how is it possible that the first causes of all causal series
can be treated collectively by one science? Why are the first causes of distinct
types of series not treated by distinct sciences?
Book does not answer these questions directly. However, in marking
off a group of causes as the first causes of different types of causal series, it
argues, in effect, that there is a metaphysics, as I noted in the previous chapter. If the causes were infinite, there could be no metaphysics. Furthermore,
the questions whether the causes are infinite or finite, and how many and of
what sort they are all belong to a science that is able to examine all the causes
together somehow. Even if our conclusion were that the causes could not be
examined in a single science, we would need to examine them to arrive at it.
So the conclusion that there are no infinite sequences of causes, that is, that all
sequences terminate in a first cause, represents exactly the sort of consideration
that falls to metaphysics to make. The fact that books A and consider in a
general way the causes of all beings, that they argue conclusions about those
causes, that they speak universally about all ousiai and the per se attributes
that belong to them provides another reason to think that there is a science of
metaphysics. Importantly, these discussions show why a metaphysics is necessary: there are questions about first causes that need to be addressed, and
the discipline that would be sufficiently universal in scope to address them
would be metaphysics. The universal discussion about all first causes and the
arguments that they are more than one but not infinite that we see in the first
two books belong to the science whose possibility book B explores. Hence,
Aristotles assumption that there is a metaphysics, implicit and unargued in
the first five aporiai of Metaphysics B, is warranted, and it forms the background
for his treatment there of the question of how the science is possible.
There is a long tradition that book is a later addition to the Metaphysics.
If my analysis is correct, book argues for the existence of first causes, an
essential prerequisite for the existence of a science of metaphysics. Since the
first set of book Bs aporiai assume that a first science exists, book is an integral part of the Metaphysics, and it is in its proper place.
Besides showing the role of book in the Metaphysics, my discussion of the
first five aporiai has explained details of the argument and shown how Aristotle
uses aporiai to pose the problem of the possibility of metaphysics. To show that
metaphysics is possible Aristotle needs to explain how all of the topics that
ought to be treated by it can belong to a single science, a task made difficult
by his rejection of Platonism and by his insistence on the structure of science
described in the Posterior Analytics. While other philosophers have tried to
explain the possibility of metaphysics by referring to transcendental acts of
consciousness or transcendent beings, Aristotles approach to the problem in
Book B: The Aporiai
241
Metaphysics B is more fundamental. The possibility of metaphysics rests in

the first instance on showing that it has a subject matter, and showing that
metaphysics has a subject matter requires that the topics it must treat have
sufficient unity to fall under a single science.

The second set of aporiai, six through ten, concern the characteristics of the
principles to be treated by metaphysics. Clearly, such a concern could only arise
after it had already been shown that the science has a subject matter. Merely
for Aristotle to raise these questions indicates that he regards the first set of
aporiai as resolvable: this point alone should eliminate the notion that these
aporiai record problems that Aristotle could not solve when he wrote book B.
In general, the sequence of aporiai is constructed so that later aporiai explore
problems that would arise upon the resolution of earlier aporiai.
Of the aporiai in this set only aporia nine is obviously a question about
unity, at least as Aristotle presents it in B 4. In B 1s formulation, this aporia
asks whether the principles are determinate in species or in number (996a12);
as posed later in book B, the same aporia asks whether the principles are one
in species or in number (4, 999b241000a4). One in species is, by definition,
one in formula ( 6, 1016b3133). As we saw (4.1), Aristotle thinks that
Platonists make their principlesthat is, the formsboth one in number
and one in formula (M 8). Aporia nine asks which of these ones most properly
belongs to principles, and Aristotle argues against both alternatives. Looking
closely at the details of these arguments will help us to see that the sixth,
seventh, and eighth aporiai are closely related and also turn on the problem
of the unity of the principles. Though Aristotle poses these other aporiai in
quite different terms, we will see that the arguments he uses to develop
them are unity arguments.
As I said, the ninth aporia asks whether the principles are one in number
or one in species, and Aristotle argues against both alternatives. Against a
principles being one in species is the problem that nothing would be one in
number (999b2526). In other words, if principles were only one in formula,
they could not explain why there are things that are numerically one; they
could not account for individuals. As an indication of how serious this consequence would be for Platonists, Aristotle notes that not even the one itself
or being itself would be numerically one (b26).
A second, less clear consequence of each principles being one in species is
that there would be no knowledge because knowledge requires a one over
many (b2627). Aristotles reasoning here is problematic because the one
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Book B: The Aporiai
through which we know the many should be the species; we know many
things by grasping the species (or formula) that they all share. As long as a
principle is one in formula, there would seem to be no obstacle to knowledge,
even if it is not one in number. Could Aristotle be claiming that the species
must also be numerically one in order to be known?33 More likely, Aristotles
point here builds on the first consequence: without a principle that is numerically one, there would be nothing that is numerically one nor, consequently,
could there be many things. But without a many, there could be no one over
many and so, apparently, no knowledge.34 On this interpretation, the principle
that is one in species should be a principle of knowledge; but, because it is
not also a principle of numeric unity, there is no numeric unity, nor can there
be a many; and so the principle cannot be a one over many or, consequently,
a principle of knowledge.
On the other side, there is Aristotles argument against the principles being
one in number. Suppose that the principles were numerically one. Then how
would there be anything else besides the elements (999b3133)? It would make
no sense to speak of two instances of one principle; each thing would be an
individual. Further, there could be no composites because the parts would
each be numerically one, and the whole could only be a plurality.
In short, the problem with ascribing either type of unity to principles is that
neither can account for things that have the other character. It seems that a
principle should have both types of unity in order to be the principle of things
with both types of unity. But Aristotle seems to think that a principle could
not be one in both ways, and later he faults Plato for ascribing both sorts of
unity to his form.
Of course, Aristotle could dispense with the whole question either by
denying that a principle must be one or by showing how a principle could
have both types of unity. Conversely, the ninth aporia is problematic only
because Aristotle does insist that a principle be one and that unity in species
and unity in number are incompatible. His insistence that a principle be one
parallels precisely the assumption apparent in the first group of aporiai that
the subject matter of metaphysics be one. There Aristotle assumes that the
33. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:242, thinks that Aristotle raises only one objection
to the principles being one in species: how can there be knowledge of sensibles
without their sharing in common something that is numerically one? He does
not explain why something one in species would not suffice for knowledge.
34. This seems to be Owenss interpretation, Doctrine of Being, 246. He thinks that
Aristotle denies that the (Platonic) forms are knowable because scientific knowledge requires a specific unity in singulars. Owens is not quite right to identify
the principles that are one in species with Platonic forms because the latter are
also one in number, as we saw.
Book B: The Aporiai
243
pertinent unity is generic and argues that various subjects must but could
not have it; the ninth aporia assumes only that a principle must be one in
some way. The issue here, as I said earlier, is which of the two apparently
incompatible types of unity that Platonists ascribe to principles truly belongs
to them.
What Aristotle refers to here as principle is clearly the Platonists form.
It is form that they say is one. Aristotle is, apparently, translating this claim
into his own unity language. The Platonists could intend to say a principle
is one in formula or a principle is one in number. Neither translation will
work, Aristotle argues. The aporia is that a principle must be one but cannot be
one in either way. Thus, the ninth aporia conforms perfectly to the paradigm
that I sketched at the beginning of this chapter (4.1).
Aristotles discussion of the ninth aporia also indicates a second translation. He explains:
For to say one in number or individual ( ) makes no
difference; for we say one in number just as we say individual, and
the universal is over these (999b331000a1).
The universal that is over individuals appears to be the common formula
or species. Hence, one in number = individual and one in species =
universal. If we follow these equations, we should be able to reformulate
the ninth aporia as the problem of whether each principle is individual or universal. This latter is actually one of the aporiai (the fifteenthB 6, 1003a617).
So the translation of claims about one can be a two step process: first,
Aristotle decides which type of unity is at issue and formulates the Platonic
claim in terms of his own unity determinations; then, he further translates
these claims into the closely connected, but distinctively Aristotelian terms,
universal and individual.
This second translation, however, is of a different sort from the first. In
general, to speak of something as one in some respect is to indicate its
character, while to speak of a thing as a universal or an individual is to
indicate its kind. Whereas something could, conceivably, have both characters (one in number and one in species), it could not belong to both kinds.
Indeed, Aristotle insists that whatever is one in number is also one in species
( 6, 1016b351017a3). Thus, an individual is one in number in respect of its
matter but also one in species because it possesses a single formula. In contrast, a universal is a one over many (Z 13, 1038b1112; De Intp. 7, 17a3940)
because it has a single formula that is common to many individuals. Hence,
an individual is one in number and one in formula, but even though it has the
unity characteristic of the universal, it is not a universal, nor is the universal
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an individual. The two kinds cannot be identified, but a character of one kind
can belong to instances of another.35
Clearly, it will not always be possible to translate the unity terms into universal and individual. Yet, whenever something is one in formula because it is
common to many, it can be called a universal; and, nearly always, something
that is one in number can be called an individual. (A species, for example, is
a universal as well as one in formula; Socrates is also one in formula but not
a universal.) That we must already know the ontological status of the entity
described by the term detracts somewhat from the utility of translation. Still, it is
important to see that the same Aristotelian doctrine can sometimes be expressed
in two different ways: in terms of ones or through universal/individual.
A reflection of the difference between the two sets of terms is that aporia
fifteen turns on a slightly different issue from aporia nine. The former argues
that if the principles were universals, no ousia would exist because an ousia is
not common, like the universal, but a this something and one (1003a712).
On the other hand, if the principles were individuals, there would, it argues,
be no knowledge (1003a1314); for knowledge is of the universal. In contrast,
the ninth aporia mentions the impossibility of knowledge as a consequence
not of the principles being numerically one, as we would expect if it were
parallel to the fifteenth, but of the principles being one in species. Further,
the fifteenth aporia is addressed in M 10 with no reference to the ninth.
The ninth and the fifteenth aporiai are, then, different. But each would
result from translating a key Platonic assumption into Aristotles more refined
terminology. Aristotle does not present them to us this way, but he gives no
account of the origin of the aporiai. Yet, whatever we say about their origin, it
is clear that aporiai nine and fifteen are closely linked conceptually.
One qualm we might have about pressing the idea that the aporiai emerge by
translating Platonic notions into Aristotles more refined unity language is that
the two options in aporiai nine and fifteen are too thin: Aristotle has a far richer
unity language, as we saw in Chapter 2. Why would the ninth aporia propose
only two choices for the translation of one, one in number and one in species, when Aristotle catalogues a wide variety of options in 6 and I 1?
These two ways one is said have the best claim to be the type of priority that characterizes principles. One in genus and one by analogy are
35. As we might expect, there are exceptions to Aristotles use of universal to refer
to a kind; for example, the description of metaphysics as universal because
primary (E 1, 1026a2931). Following Scholastic tradition, Owens, Doctrine of
Being,xivxv, usually takes the universal to be the way that the human mind
cognizes form; it is a character, rather than a kind. Thus, he claims, interestingly,
that the construction of the ninth aporia points to a solution in which a principle
is universal and also individual, but not singular (p. 247). Later he argues that
form is neither universal nor individual (pp. 38990).
Book B: The Aporiai
245
posterior, as is one in substrate. In general, I think that Aristotle does consider

other types of unity in the second group of aporiai. None is explicitly posed
as a problem about the unity of principles. Ostensibly they ask whether
principles are material or formal constituents, higher or lower genera, and
separate or not separate. However, if we look closely at the arguments that
Aristotle advances to support or refute each side of these aporiai, we find that,
implicitly or explicitly, he ascribes or denies these characters to principles by
virtue of their unity. Even the ninth aporia, in its initial formulation in B 1,
is a puzzle about the definiteness of the principles. To present this aporia by
arguing against principles being one in number and kind, as Aristotle does
in B 4, only makes sense if he assumes that being one makes something definite. Analogous assumptions are implicit in Aristotles discussions of other
characters that he assumes mark off principles, as I shall now show. To see this
we must pay close attention to the details of book Bs argumentsrarely the
subject of scholars concern. The sixth, seventh, and eighth aporiai all address
issues similar to that of the ninth; and once we understand the arguments,
we can see that they form a sequence.
Aporia six asks whether the principles and elements of a thing are (a) its
genera or (b) the constituents into which it is divided, such as the letters into
which speech is divided (3, 998a2025). Uncharacteristically, Aristotle gives
positive arguments for each side here. To argue for material constituents, he
provides several examples. The principles of speech are its elements, the letters, of which it is composed rather than the genus of speech. The principles of
geometrical constructions are those basic demonstrations that figure as parts
of more complex geometric demonstrations (998a2527; cf. 3, 1014a35b2).
The principles of bodies are the elements, one or more, of which they are
composed rather than genera of beings (998a2832). Further, we know the
nature of something like a bed when we know its parts and the way that they
are put together (998a28b3).
In support of the other side, that the principles are genera, Aristotle notes
that we know each thing by its definition and that the genera are the principles
of definitions (998b46). Further, some of those who make one, being, and so
forth, principles treat them like genera (b911).
Both sides of the aporia assume that the principle is an element of some
sort, a constituent. At issue is whether the principle is a material constituent
or a constituent of a formula. Why should Aristotle assume that the principle
is some type of constituent? The text provides no explicit motivation, but the
assumption at work on both sides of the aporia is clearly that a part is prior to
a whole. A strange assumption, for the part is not always prior to the whole.
Yet, the part is prior when the whole is simply a plurality of parts or when it
lacks an organic unity. Thus, the part of a bed or a complex body is prior to
the whole because it is one, and they are each many. Furthermore, it is not any
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constituent that is a candidate for a principle, but only an indivisible constituent, a constituent like fire, water, or a letter. Though front, middle, and rear
are parts of an automobile, they are not its material elements because they can
be divided into more fundamental constituents. In general, then, a material
constituent would seem to be a principle because it is a unity and, as such, a
building block from which a complex can be constructed. The priority of an
element is the priority of unity.
Aristotle does not speak this way in the sixth aporia. There is, though, some
ground for supposing that he thinks of the aporia in terms of unity. The two
alternatives that he explores in aporia six are the two main ways that element () is said (in 3), and Aristotle defines an element in terms
of unity. First, a material element is a primary, immanent constituent that is
indivisible in form into another form; such as, the letters of speech . . . . ( 3,
1014a2627). Elements are the bodies into which things are ultimately divided
(1014a3134); they are either simply indivisible or, as in the case of water,
indivisible into some other nature (1014a2631). In the latter case, because the
indivisibility of the element is an indivisibility of form, the element is one in
material substrate ( 6, 1016a1719). So it is indivisibility or unity that makes
something a material element.
The second main way that element is said (in 3) results from a transfer
(metaphor) of the term from indivisible matter to anything that is small,
simple, and indivisible (1014b56); that is, to anything else that is one:
From this the widest universals come to be elements. Because each of
these is one and simple while belonging in many, either in all or in as
many as possible, the one and the point seem to some to be principles.
Since so-called genera are universal and indivisible (for there is no formula of them), some say they are elements . . . (1014b611).
In short, genera are elements or principles because they, too, are one. In speaking of universals as one and simple while belonging in many, Aristotle
describes them as what I earlier termed one in generic substrate ( 6,
1016a2432). To summarize, what makes both matter and genera elements
is their each being a type of what 6 terms one in substrate. Since Aristotle
draws precisely the same distinction in the sixth aporia as in 3he even
mentions the same examplesit is very likely that the former advances matter and genus as principles because of their unity. In this case, the issue in
the sixth aporia is which type of unity in substrate most properly belongs to
principles, and aporia results because there are arguments for both.
Still another reason to regard the issue of the sixth aporia as a problem about
unity is that it is reminiscent of a discussion in Platos Theaetetus. There Plato
Book B: The Aporiai
247
proposes the letters as the principles of syllables and, by analogy, individual

entities as principles of the knowledge of composites (202a ff.). The dialogue
makes it clear that the pertinent priority is that of a one to a many, and the
undoing of this proposal derives from the fact that the many, that is, the syllable or the composite, seems also to be one (esp. 205cd). Importantly, Plato
uses what Aristotle mentions as key examples of material constituents, the
letters, to illustrate the constituents of a definition, what Aristotle identifies as
the role for genera. In other words, the Theaetetus speaks of the same entities
as material constituents and generic constituents of a formula. It makes the
principles one in both ways.
It is this Platonic tendency to identify the two types of elements that, I suggest, the last lines of Aristotles sixth aporia address:
But neither is it possible to formulate the principles in both ways. For
the formula of the ousia is one; and the definition through the genera
will differ from the formula which states the constituents of which it is
composed (998b1114).
Aristotles argument here may be as follows: were genera and material constituents both first principles, the same essence would be expressed by two
distinct definitions, but this is impossible because one thing can have only one
definition.36 However, Aristotle had been claiming that a thing can be known
or defined not only through its genus (998b56), but also through its material constituents (998b23). Why should Aristotle now reject multiple ways of
knowing a thing and insist that it must be known through its genus alone?
Perhaps his point is only that both cannot be first principles of knowledge. A
thing can have only one definition, and the formula that includes the genus
has the best claim to be that definition. But it is hard to get this interpretation
out of Aristotles text. He does not mention first principle, and his denial
that it is possible to formulate [or, to express] principles both ways does
not seem to be a claim about the impossibility of two definitions. The phrase
rather seems to deny that it is possible to give two formulae, but this we know
that Aristotle does not deny.
A more likely interpretation is that Aristotles point here is that the same
principle cannot be a principle in both ways because the two types of principles
are so different. To formulate the principles in both ways would not mean
to define with two distinct principles but to speak of [particular] principles
[as each being] of both types. The reason this latter is impossible is that the
36. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:233, expresses this interpretation in his paraphrase
of this passage.
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formula that states the definition is onethis formula includes the genusand
the formula that states the material constituents is not only quite different,
as we see from the examples discussed earlier in aporia six, but it is generally
many. If this is right, what we have are not two putative definitions but two
formulae that differ because one is a definition. And Aristotles point is not that
both formulae cannot be definitions but that the same nature cannot be both
a generic constituent and a material constituentas Platonists suppose.
So understood, this final argument of the sixth aporia makes a point that is
immediately pertinent to the aporia and to the critique of Platonism. Because
the preceding arguments in this aporia show that there are grounds for thinking that both material constituents and genera are principles, it is tempting to
avoid aporia by insisting that genera just are material constituents, as Aristotle
thinks the Platonists did. But this cannot be, Aristotle holds, because the genera
are part of the definition and the material constituents are not. Insofar as the
argument of the last lines blocks the Platonic way out of aporia, it heightens
the difficulty. In contrast, the alternative interpretation of the last lines does not
block this exit; rejecting only two definitions, it leaves open the Platonic retort
that there is only one definition because genera are material constituents.
In sum, aside from the final argument, the sixth aporia does not explicitly
mention unity.37 As we have seen, however, the two candidates for principles
are elsewhere termed elements by virtue of their unity, and it seems to be
just its unity that entitles each to be a principle. Accordingly, the issue in the
sixth aporia is, what sort of unity belongs most properly to principles, one in
material substrate or one in generic substrate? Plato insists that a principle (that
is, a form) is one in both ways, a move that Aristotle rejects in his discussion
of the aporia. This rejection leaves us with the difficulty of deciding which
type of one in substrate is most characteristic of the first principle. That is, the
issue is which of the two unities that Plato tries to ascribe to first principles
is most proper to them. Like the ninth and fifteenth aporiai, Aristotles sixth
aporia seems to arise from an attempt to translate a Platonic claim about unity
into his own, more refined unity language.
Like aporia six, aporia seven is not posed as a problem about unity. It asks,
are the principles the highest or lowest genera (998b1416)? This question is
only an aporia if, as Aristotle assumes here, the genera are principles most of
all (998b14). That is, the seventh aporia assumes at least a partial answer to
the sixth aporia. Only the genera are still under consideration. The ostensible
problem is whether the principle is the most universal and highest genus or
the genus closest to individuals, the lowest genus.
37. The text does contain passing references to principles whose unity book A emphasizes: fire, water, and the one itself (998a2831; b911).
Book B: The Aporiai
249
The assumption that a principle is one enters explicitly into an argument

for denying that the highest genera are principles. Aristotle reasons:
If one is more of the nature of a principle, and the indivisible is one, and
everything is indivisible either in respect of quantity or in respect of
form (), and if what is indivisible in form is prior, and genera are
divisible into species (), then the last predicate would be more one;
for man is not the genus of particular men (999a16).
In other words, the lowest genus seems to be more of a principle than higher
genera because it is more indivisible and, so, more one. There could not be a
more explicit assertion that something is entitled to be called a principle by
virtue of its unity. Moreover, different sorts of unity could make something
a principle: something can be a principle by virtue of either qualitative or
quantitative unity (cf. I 1, 1052b3435; 1053a1821; 1053b67). The lowest genus
should be a principle because it is qualitatively oneunlike higher genera, it
is not further divisible. It is more of a principle because it is more indivisible
and, therefore, more one. It is widely agreed that the lowest genus here is the
ultimate species.38 Its qualitative indivisibility is not undermined by having
many instances: it is not divisible into another form, for its instances share
the same form.
Additional support for the lowest genus lies in arguments against the
higher genera. Aristotle first argues against the highest universals, being and
one. They would seem to be principles because they are most one in the sense
that they are most encompassing and universal. However, Aristotle argues
that they are not genera. The problem is that, because being and one belong
to everything, nothing can stand outside of them and differentiate them. The
assumption is that a genus cannot belong to its differentia, but there is nothing to which being and one do not belong. Hence, being and one cannot be
differentiated and, therefore, cannot be genera (998b2227). If being and one
are not genera, then they also cannot be principles assuming, as we are here,
that the principles are genera (b2728).
38. Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria,204.2528. In initially setting
out the aporia, Aristotle contrasts the first genus with the last predicated of indivisibles ( 998b1516). Indivisibles here means
individuals. Yet, the term can also refer to the ultimate species. Discussing this
passage, Alexander refers to the last genera, those nearest the individuals, as the
indivisible species ( ). If indivisible at 998b1516 referred to the species,
then the last genus would not be the ultimate species but the narrowest genus that
includes that species. Nonetheless, the consensus is that the lowest genus is the
infima species: Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:233; Owens, Doctrine of Being,237.
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If these highest universals are not genera or, consequently, principles, then
the highest genera would be below them in universality. Aristotle goes on
to argue that these genera cannot be the first principles. He maintains that
all the intermediates will be genera and, therefore, principles, down to
() the indivisibles (998b2829). But now some seem [to be genera? to be
principles?] and some do not (998b30). Further, he continues, the differentiae
are more principles than the genera, and there will be an indefinite number
of principles (998b31999a1).
The passage is obscure. Alexander and Ross take it to be an argument
against any genus being a principle.39 In addition to problems of context, their
interpretations do not elucidate Aristotles reasoning. I propose that we can
make tolerable sense of the passage by comparing it with what precedes. Since
one and being cannot be genera because they lack differentiae, all the genera
must contain differentiae or, as Aristotle puts it here, they must be grasped
with [their] differentiae. These genera are intermediates because they are
less universal than one and being and more universal than the lowest species. Even the summa genera have differentiae. Since the lowest species are not
further differentiated, must mean down to but not including. Since all
genera consist of the same constituents, nothing special marks off the summa
genera. All genera would have an equal right to be called principles. But this
conclusion is inconsistent with the assumption under consideration: we are
assuming now that only some genera, the highest, are principles and that
other genera are not. So understood, this argument refutes the claim of the
highest genera to be principles by showing that all other genera, except for the
lowest, should have an equal claim because they, too, have differentiae.
Moreover, if nearly all genera are principles, as this reasoning implies,
then there would be an indefinite number of principles. Furthermore, if the
intermediate genera are divided by differentiae, they would seem to be less
principles than their differentiae. For the differentiae are constituents and are,
thereby, more one than the genera, as we saw in the sixth aporia. Thus, if the
higher genera are principles, then the differentiae by which they are divided
are prior principles. However, the species constituted by these differentiae are
often themselves divided by other differentiae. Hence, there are an indefinite
number of differentiae and thus, again, an indefinite number of principles.
So an additional obstacle to declaring that higher genera are principles is
that they, in turn, depend on an indefinite plurality of other principles, their
differentiae. On this interpretation, the present argument leads naturally to
39. Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria, 207.910; Ross, Aristotles
Metaphysics 1:23536. According to LSJ the meaning of here is the
same as that at Z 12, 1037b3032.
Book B: The Aporiai
251
Aristotles next proposal, already discussed, that what is more one is more of
the nature of a principle (999a12).40
Whatever Aristotles reasoning in the argument at 998b28999a1, there is
no doubt that he regards the consequence of an indefinite number of principles as a reductio ad absurdum. Why? It is clear that Aristotle assumes that
each principle is one and uses this assumption to decide which genera are
principles, but this does not exclude an indefinite plurality of such principles.
The problem is that the principles are supposed to account for the existence
and knowability of individuals, but indefinitely many principles, all of which
are necessary, could do neither. Suppose, for example, that the principles of an
individual were the differentiae of every genus under which it falls, that is,
the differentiae of the intermediate genera. If there are an indefinite number
of these differentiae, then the individual could never come to be, nor could
it be known.41 This consequence would be avoided if the differentiae were
connected with each other, as Aristotles doctrine of proper differentiation
implies (Z 12), and Aristotle introduces that doctrine to avoid the plurality of
unrelated differentiae that typically results from a Platonic approach to differentiation. He needs some such doctrine in order to say that the ultimate
species is indivisible, for it would seem, otherwise, to be divisible, in respect
of its formula, into all the previous differentiae.
It is just such a seemingly inevitable plurality of the intermediate and lowest
genera that makes the highest genus look to be most one and, thereby, the best
candidate for a principle. Although it contains differentiae, it is not defined
by a higher genus and a differentia. Further, any genus is, by definition, a
one over many; it is one nature possessed by a multitude ( 26, 1023b2931;
I 1, 1052a34b2). It would seem that the more universal the genus, the more
things that share one nature and, thus, the greater the universals priority as
a principle and the greater its simplicity (998b1719). Moreover, because the
highest genera are most inclusive, their number and, thus, the number of
principlesif they are principleswill be few or even, were being or one a
genus, one. This is a reason that being and one seem to be the principles most
of all: each seems to be a single nature possessed by all.
40. Although this claim is grammatically the protasis of a conditional, it functions

as an asserted premise: since . . . .
41. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:23536, thinks that the argument concerns not the
question of higher or lower genera, but whether genera are principles at all. He
thinks the unity assumption motivates both sides of the issue:
The point [is] . . . that those who think the genera to be will find an
unconscionable number of on their hands. This is fatal to their view
since it is in pursuit of unity that they make the genera .
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Aristotle could have made a case that the higher genera or, even, being and
one are principles based on their unity. We can see how it might have gone
from the arguments he presents here. As we saw, he argues that one and being
cannot be genera because they are not differentiated and that lesser universals
cannot be principles because they are differentiated. However, one and being
are each one insofar as they are undifferentiated; the intermediate genera are
each one, namely, one in formula, insofar as they are differentiated. So a case
for higher genera being principles based on their unity is implicit. Further,
in aporia six the basis for making genera principles is that they are indivisible
elements of formulae. The highest genera will be most indivisible as elements
in a formula because lower genera are themselves defined in terms of the
higher genera. Thus, unity considerations seem to support both sides of the
seventh aporia.
Clearly, the higher and lower genera are each more one in different ways.
The latter are more one in that they are indivisible in formula or species. The
former are more one as indivisible constituents of formulae and as natures
that are common to all. Aristotle describes these two types of one in 6
(1016a24b6; b3133). They are, respectively, one in formula and one in
generic substrate. The issue here is which of these types of unity belongs most
properly to principles. Once again, an aporia that seems peculiarly Aristotelian
in terminology turns out to hinge on how to interpret the Platonic dictum
that principles are one.
Aristotle does not, however, pose the seventh aporia as an issue about unity.
After presenting the three arguments for lower genera that I have examined,
all of which are unity arguments, he advances two arguments against higher
genera being principles and one argument in their favor. All three turn on the
assumption that principles exist apart or separate.42
First, Aristotle argues that those genera higher than the lowest genera, that
is, genera higher than the species, cannot be principles because they cannot
exist apart (999a613). These higher genera are predicated of other genera,
whereas the lowest genera are predicated only of individuals ( ). The
key assumption is: In things where there is a prior and posterior, it is not
possible that something over them exists apart from them (999a67). The
something over them would be the genus, the one over many; and Aristotles
point is that the genus cannot exist apart when what falls under it includes
prior and posterior species. He does not explain what he means, but provides
two examples: if two is the first number, there will not be a genus of number
42. Here and in the discussion of the next aporia Aristotle usually expresses this idea
with the preposition . At 999a19 he uses a form of the verb separate ()
equivalently. I shall use apart and separate indifferently in this discussion.
Book B: The Aporiai
253
apart from the species of number, nor will there be a genus of plane figure
apart from species of plane figures (999a710). Generalizing from these cases,
he reasons:
If there are none among these, there will hardly be genera that exist
apart from species among the others, for among these there seem to be
genera [that exist apart] most of all (999a1012).
In contrast, individuals are not prior or posterior to each other (999a1213).
Aristotles reasoning seems to be this: since the higher genera (genera of species) contain a prior and a posterior, they cannot exist apart, but the lowest
genera (genera of individuals) can exist apart; since principles do exist apart,
the lowest genera are more properly principles.43
Aristotle adds a very brief additional argument to this: whenever there
is a better and a worse, the better is prior; hence, there is no genus of these
(999a1314). Presumably, he means to say that there are better and worse species but not better or worse individuals within a species, at least not better or
worse insofar as they are instances of the species. Hence, there are no genera
existing apart from their species, and thus no higher genera are principles.
It is important to see that both arguments derive from the assumption that
principles must be separate. This provides an essential clue for understanding
them. Their aim is to show why higher genera are not principles; the reason is
that they are not separate. These arguments would be ineffective if they showed
merely that (a) some higher genera are not principles; they would be irrelevant
if they showed that (b) some of what are regarded as genera are not genera. Yet,
both (a) and (b) have been claimed of them. At issue is what Aristotle means
by what I have called the key assumption, that in a class where there is a prior
and posterior, no genus exists apart. In a very influential article that appeared
more than a century ago, John Cook Wilson argues that in a class where there
is a prior and posterior, the generic character has no existence outside and
distinguishable from what is contained in the given notion.44 He infers that
43. This argument is usually understood to deny that there can exist a genus of groups
that contain prior and posterior instances. Aristotle ascribes a position like this to
Plato at N. E. A 6, 1096a1719; and, at least since J. Cook Wilson, On the Platonic
Doctrine of the , Classical Review18 (1904):24760, the view
is widely taken to be Aristotles own. See: Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:237; and
Philip Merlan, Aristotles Unmoved Movers,1112. Merlan is clear that there
is no genus of the prior and posterior, but he notes that Aristotle speaks of plane
and solid as genera in 28. Cook Wilson and Ross also, confusingly, speak of
genera of number; they must ascribe a special sense to this term.
44. Cook Wilson, On the Platonic Doctrine of the ,256.
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Book B: The Aporiai
different species are not only the same in genus, but what they differ in, as species, also belongs to the genus: what red and blue agree in is color, but what
they differ in is also color. That goods, too, differ in what is good means that
each good is defined differently and prevents there being one single criterion
of all good. Voicing the same idea, W. D. Ross explains that not only do two,
three, four, and so forth have in common that they are numbers, but they also
differ from each other in number; so, numberness . . . penetrates their [the
numbers] whole nature, and exists only in the various numbers.45 That is, the
character that would differentiate a genus of number into species would belong
to the genus of number. We have seen that a differentia cannot belong to the
genus it differentiates; the reason that Being cannot be a genus is that there could
be no differentia outside of it (998b2426). If any differentia of number would
be a number, then there is no differentia, and number is not a genus. Nor, by
the same reasoning, could there be a genus of any group that contained a prior
and a posterior. Hence, the species of numbers and other such groups are not
species of a genus, but independent forms.
The basis for this interpretation is, oddly enough, a passage in the
Nicomachean Ethics where Aristotle claims that Plato denies that there is a form
of classes, like number, that contain prior and posterior instances (N. E. A 6,
1096a1719).46 Aristotle is supposed to be endorsing this principle in our passage (999a112, 14), as well as in other texts where he is more clearly speaking
in his own name, De Anima B 3, 414b20415a13 and Politics 1, 1275a34b1.
The thought here is that if a class contains prior and posterior items, the latter emerge from or can be explained by the prior items. There is no common
character possessed by items in a succession. Hence, they do not belong to a
genus even though they are called by common generic names like number,
soul, or regime.
There is almost nothing in the text of 999a623 that supports this interpretation. I have already noted how little it fits the context of the passage. In two
places Aristotle seems to say that there is no genus of what contains a prior
and posterior (999a1011 [quoted above]; 999a14). But these sentences are clear
in their context and claim, in Aristotles characteristically abbreviated prose,
that the genus does not exist apart from the species or forms. This latter is what
Aristotle needs to say and what his argument actually supports. Importantly,
it is a mistake to think that Aristotle is enunciating a doctrine that applies
to a special kind of class. In fact, he denies that any genus exists apart. As I
noted earlier, he holds that a genus is the matter or potential for the ultimate
differentia (Z 12, 1038a59; H 6, 1045a1725). As such the genus always exists
45. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:237.
46. Cook Wilson, On the Platonic Doctrine of the ,256.
Book B: The Aporiai
255
with some differentia, and never apart. (In contrast, the differentia or the form
does exist apart, in a way, because it contains its own matter implicitly in its
formula [H 1, 1042a2829].) Plato, on the other hand, thinks that all forms are
separate even if they, or their images, also mix somehow in sensible composites. For him to say that there is no form apart from a group with a prior and
a posterior is to deny the existence of a form of the group. Unlike Aristotle,
he has no doctrine of potentiality or matter that would allow him to explain
how a genus could exist even if it does not exist apart. Because Aristotles
genus exists as a potential for further determination, he has no difficulty in
affirming a genus of number, plurality of units, that is actualized into some
particular plurality of units to constitute a species of number. Moreover, there
are good grounds for thinking that Aristotle recognizes prior and posterior
instances of every genus.47
Of course, it is precarious to try to derive Aristotelian conclusions from
what he poses as aporiai, and it is disastrous if we are intent on understanding the aporiai. They are problematic just because Aristotle has not yet introduced the doctrines that render them non-problematic. How, then, are we to
understand these last two arguments of aporia seven? What I have called the
key assumption in the first of them, that the genus of what contains a prior
and posterior does not exist apart, would seem to be Aristotles modification
of the Platonic assumption that there is no form of what contains a prior and
posterior. Aristotle identifies the form as the genus, another Platonic name
for form; and he specifies that it not exist apart, a specification that adds
nothing if, as Plato thinks, only what exists apart truly exists. But the modification opens the possibility for a genus to be real but not exist apart, and that
makes the discussion pertinent to an aporia about which genus is prior. Why,
then, does that in which there is a prior and posterior not have a genus that
exists apart? The prior and the posterior instances clearly exist apart from each
other. There is no place for an independently existing genus: it would either
exist somehow as a part of these instances or if it did have an independent
existence, it would be prior to them and, thereby, another instance. If some
species of every genus are prior and posterior, and better and worse, then no
genus of species could exist apart.
That the issue in these two arguments is not the existence of genera of
number but their apartness is supported by aporia sevens final argument
(999a1423). Here Aristotle argues that since somethings being predicated
universally is a ground for its existing apart, what is predicated most
universally should exist apart most of all and, therefore, be the highest
principle.
47. See I 2, 1054a24b13 and Halper Aristotles Paradigmatism,69103.
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Book B: The Aporiai
As I said, Aristotle does not pose the last three arguments of aporia seven
in terms of unity; but he could have and it is likely that this is what he has in
mind. A genus that existed apart would be distinct from and independent of
everything else and, thereby, more one. Insofar as a genus cannot exist apart
from its species, it depends on them and is, accordingly, less one. Because
higher genera cannot exist apart, they cannot be one or, consequently, principles. On the other hand, what is more universal is more simple and more
one and, therefore, more likely to exist apart and to be a principle. In general,
what is apart must be one and vice versa. And Aristotle may be presupposing
this connection because, as we saw, aporia sevens first arguments against
higher genera are posed in terms of unity and its last arguments against
higher genera as well as its sole argument in their favor are posed in terms
of apart. In any case, the conceptual link between one and apart is confirmed
in the next aporia. Its arguments virtually identify the two.
Aporia eight is ostensibly a question about the separation of the principles,
but if we look at the reasoning on both sides, we can see that the real issue is
how a principle can be one. Is there anything that exists apart from particulars?,
asks the eighth aporia (999a24b24). A reason to answer yes is that there must
be a one that is universal if there is to be knowledge of individuals:
Insofar as something is one and the same, and insofar as it belongs
universally, by this do we know all things (999a2829).
Again, we have an explicit assertion that a principle must be a unity. Only
what is one can be the principle of knowledge. The reason is presumably that
knowledge consists of some single act of the intellect, and only what is itself
one can be grasped with one act. An individual is not only a composite, and
thus dual, but contains indefinite matter. However, to grasp the individuals
form is to grasp what it shares with every other individual of its type, and
thus to grasp something universal. Inasmuch as the universal is known and
individuals are not, it must exist apart from them. This universal that exists
apart is the genus, either the first or last. There was a puzzle in the previous
aporia about how a genus could exist apart (999a2931) because Aristotle
assumed there that a principle must exist apart. Aporia eight makes clear that
the reason a principle exists apart is so that it can be one and thus the principle
of knowledge. Aristotle assumes that what is one is apart.
Further, he argues that coming to be requires, in order to avoid infinite
regress, that there be some ungenerated matter that exists apart from the
composite that comes to be, as well as some ungenerated form that is also apart
from the composite (999b816). These arguments are not posed in terms of
unity, but later in the Metaphysics (in Z 79) when Aristotle argues that matter
Book B: The Aporiai
257
and form are unchanged in the generation of a composite, he is arguing for

the unity of the form.48 Again, what is apart is one.
On the other hand, the insistence that what is apart be one also generates
one of Aristotles arguments against a principles being apart: if there were
one ousia apart from the individuals, then everything of which it was the ousia
would be one, for all are one of which the ousia is one (999b1823). Here
Aristotle assumes that the ousia of a thing is its principle and then points out
the absurdity of there being a single ousia for a plurality of things. This will
only count as an argument against an ousias being apart from particulars
if Aristotle is also assuming that what is apart must be one. Then an ousia
cannot exist apart because, being apart, it would be one, and when the ousia
is one, so is that of which it is the ousia; but these latter are here assumed to
be many.
In short, an aporia that Aristotle poses as a question about the apartness of
a principle is argued as a question of its unity. Aristotle assumes that what is
apart must be one and argues for or against unity in order to support or reject
apartness. The principle must be one for there to be knowledge; and insofar
as it is one, it is apart. But it cannot be one without everything else of which
it is the principle being one, and for this reason the principle cannot be apart.
The unity at issue here seems to be unity in species (or unity in formula).
A principle must possess this type of unity to be a principle of knowledge.
However, what is one in this way is the universal, and the universal cannot
be the ousia of its instances (cf. Z 13, 1038b1415; 16, 1040b17).49 In terms of the
way that Aristotle actually argues each side of the eighth aporia, it could well
be posed as the question whether or not the principles are one in species.
So formulated, the eighth aporia poses a part of the question raised by the
ninth aporia. As we saw, the latter inquires whether the principles are one in
number or one in species. Indeed, the foregoing discussion of aporiai six through
nine allows us to see that they constitute a carefully constructed sequence. The
issue in the sixth aporia is which of two types of unity in substrate belong to
the principles. The seventh aporia further pursues one of these types of unity
in substrate, generic unity. It considers whether the higher or lower genus is
more one, but its only direct argument for the lower genus being more one
depends on showing that it has a different sort of unity, unity in species.
49. M. J. Woods, Problems in Metaphysics Z, Chapter 13, in Aristotle: A Collection
of Critical Essays, ed. J. M. E. Moravcsik, Modern Studies in Philosophy (Notre
Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1968),21538, maintains that the passage
from Z 13 does not argue against species being ousiai. The argument from B 4
(999b1823) under discussion here appears to be identical to that of Z 13, and it
clearly does deny that the species is an ousia.
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Book B: The Aporiai
The eighth aporia pursues this latter unity, the unity that is the principle of
knowledge, presenting arguments for and against its belonging to principles.
Finally, the ninth aporia compares the alternative principle of the sixth aporia,
the material constituent, with the unity under discussion in the eighth aporia,
asking: Are the principles one in number (like the material constituents) or
are they one in species (= apart)?
By this point, there should be no question that the assumption that a principle is one plays a prominent role in aporiai six through nine. Aristotle refers
to this assumption explicitly at 999a12. Further, unity is so closely tied to
apartness and other characteristics of principles that Aristotle argues for and
against these characters by arguing for and against particular sorts of unity.
My contention that the assumption of the unity of the principles is the source
of the aporiai draws support from the insight it provides into the details of the
arguments of particular aporiai and from the organization of these aporiai into
a coherent sequence that it suggests.
Aporia ten does not seem to fit with this group, nor does it seem, at first
glance, to have anything to do with unity. It addresses a problem that Aristotle
maintains is neglected by his predecessors and contemporaries, the question
whether the principles of corruptibles and incorruptibles are the same or
different (1000a57).50 Against the principles being the same, Aristotle asks,
If they are the same, how are some things corruptible and others incorruptible, through what cause [1000a78]? In other words, if the principles of
both corruptibles and incorruptibles are, say, incorruptible, there seems to
be no way to explain why some things are corruptible and the others are not
(1000a1924; b2021). On the other side, Aristotle argues (1000b2132) that if
the principles were to differ, the principles of corruptibles must themselves
50. Madigan, Aristotle. Metaphysics. Books B and K 12,97, identifies three issues in the
aporia, the one mentioned in this sentence, and the two questions that I go on to
interpret as arguments on each side of the aporia. Madigan also notes that the aporia
is remarkable for the endoxic material it might have included but does not (p. 98).
Although it is clearly possible to distinguish the issues as Madigan does, I think it
is more important to see how they fit together because their coherence opens the
possibility of using a single doctrine to identify and untie the knot that generates
aporia ten. As for the choice of endoxa, Aristotle notes that Empedocles might be
supposed to speak most consistently (1000a2425) apparently because Empedocles
claims that everything besides the elements will be destructible (1000b1720). If
Aristotle can find problems even with Empedocles, the positions that are also
advocated by others will be that much the less likely. What may make Empedocles
the appropriate person to discuss here is that he comes closest to recognizing all
four kinds of cause: the four elements are material causes, love and strife efficient
causes, and the proportions of elements formal causes (see, e.g., DK 98). As I explain
in my text, aporia ten concerns the number of kinds of principles.
Book B: The Aporiai
259
be either corruptible or incorruptible; but neither alternative seems possible.

Suppose they are corruptible into something else and this latter also corruptible into something else, and so on. Then all the principles are corruptible. But
the elements into which principles are corrupted would be prior to them; so,
unless there are incorruptible elements, there will be an infinite series of prior
principles. Suppose, on the other hand, that the principles of corruptibles are
incorruptible. Then, again, why will things composed of some incorruptibles be
incorruptible while things composed of other incorruptibles are corruptible?
Since sameness is a kind of unity ( 9, 1018a49), to ask about the sameness
of the principles is to ask about their unity. And to ask about their unity is,
strange as it may sound to us, to ask about unity because things that have the
same principles are, in some way, one. So, in asking whether corruptibles and
incorruptibles have the same principles, Aristotle is, in effect, asking whether
all things are one.51 And this is a question not only about all beings but about
principles; for if beings are many, then their principles are numerically many.
Thus, the issue in aporia ten is tantamount to the number of types of principles:
is there one type for all beings or many types for the many types of beings?
Since, as Aristotle indicates here, a corruptible principle would have a plurality
of parts, the internal unity of some principles is also at issue.
Aristotle does not pose the tenth aporia as a problem of unity, but this
interpretation enables us to understand both how it connects with the preceding aporiai and how Aristotle answers it. The ninth aporia asks whether
the principles are one in number or in kind. The tenth is a plausible sequel
if, as I have been arguing here, it assumes that each principle is one in kind
and asks about the number of kinds of principles. In my view, much of the
solution to the tenth aporia appears in I 10. That chapter argues that corruptibles and incorruptibles cannot be one in genus. It follows that these two
genera cannot have the same principles. Aristotles target in I 10 is Platos
forms. Since incorruptible forms and corruptible sensibles are generically
distinct, they must be specifically (= formally) distinct as well (1059a1014).
Hence, eternal forms cannot be principles of the forms of sensibles. The
substantiation of this heterodox interpretation of I 10 52 would take us far
51. Consider his remarks here on Empedocles. Aristotle thinks he tries to make all
things one (1000b12), but that Empedocles also needs to keep strife distinct as a
source of change that undermines the unity of all. Nevertheless, Empedocles is
consistent insofar as he makes all, except the elements, perishable, (1000b1719); for,
in this qualified way, all beings are one because they have the same principles.
52. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:242, thinks that this aporia is not explicitly answered,
but that Z 10 and 67 contain the solution. He does not connect I 10 with this
aporia, and he maintains that it was written before Aristotle had begun to use
the words [species and genus] in their technical sense (2:305).
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Book B: The Aporiai
beyond book B; I will not pursue it here. Let me simply suggest that Aristotle
answers the tenth aporia as if it were a problem concerning the type of unity
that principles have.
One potential objection to I 10 as the answer to aporia ten is worth addressing here: how could refuting a Platonic tenet answer an aporia that book B
sets out as a problem for Presocratic philosophers, especially Empedocles?
The answer is that Aristotle seems to think that the Presocratics raise the
issue, albeit implicitly, but Plato addresses it. At first glance, it would seem
that Empedocles and other Presocratics (such as the atomists) have a ready
solution, for they see matter as itself ungenerated but as the principle of
composites through combination and separation. As such, material principles are incorruptible, whereas the composites that come from them are
corruptible (cf. 1000b1720). If these incorruptible principles were indefinite
in number, like those of the atomists, they would be subject to the ninth
aporias argument in favor of principles being one in number. Aristotle must
be assuming that result here. Empedocles skirts this problem because he
posits love as a principle of numeric unity. However, although Empedocles
apparently thinks that change is necessary, he does not have a principle that
could cause necessary change (1000b1617)Aristotle is thinking of the
motions of the heavens or, perhaps, the paths of generation of animals that
are necessary because of their natures. So the problem for Empedocles is
why incorruptible material principles are constituents of corruptible things
and also involved in necessary (=incorruptible) changes. These principles
could cause bothbut why would some effects be corruptible and others eternal?or (as Empedocles thinks) it is love and strife that cause the
necessary changesbut how could what waxes and wanes and is, thereby,
corruptible cause what is incorruptible? In short, Empedocles account does
not answer the aporia. Aristotle is using it to generate the aporia because he
recognizes distinct kinds of principles.
In sum, aporiai six to ten all concern the types of unity that principles must
have. These are: one in material substrate or one in generic substrate, one in
genus or one in species, one in formula or one in matter (continuity), one in
species or one in number, collectively one in genus with all other principles or
many in genus. That the aporiai concern these unities emerges from the arguments Aristotle makes for each side: they are often explicitly unity arguments
or are readily interpretable as such. It is because the alternatives on each side
are one that there is some ground for their being principles. Yet, Aristotle
poses the aporiai as questions about whether principles are: material elements
or genera, higher or lower genera, apart from sensibles, one in species or one
in number, corruptible or incorruptible. These latter are Aristotelian terms for
what his predecessors and he himself take to be types of unity.
Book B: The Aporiai
261

Like aporiai six to ten, the eleventh through the fifteenth aporiai are also concerned with principles, but Aristotles interest here is with specific candidates
for the first principles. The first three of these aporiai inquire into principles posited by Platonists and others: being itself and one itself (aporia 11), mathematical
entities (aporia 12), and forms (aporia 13). The last two consider principles that
derive from Aristotles own philosophy: potentialities (aporia 14) and universals
(aporia 15). What exactly is at issue? The first three aporiai consider whether
one itself, mathematicals, and forms are ousiai, and Aristotle assumes here that
ousiai are principlesreflecting the results of the Metaphysics central books, I
suggest. Thus, to ask whether something is an ousia is tantamount to asking
whether it is a principle. Aporia 13 inquires about the existence of the forms,
but the discussion makes clear that Platonists posit them as ousiai and, thus,
principles (1002b2225; b2830): if they do not exist, they cannot be principles.
I shall argue in this section that each of the entities advanced by Platonists
derives its claim to be a principle from its unity and that it is also the unity
of the entity that poses obstacles to its being a principle. The last two aporiai
are posed as questions about the character of principles, rather than distinct
candidates for principles. But since things would not have these characters
without being entities of a certain sort, these aporiai are also wrestling with
specific candidates for the first principles.
Aristotle calls aporia eleven, the question whether one and being are ousiai
or substrata, as the most difficult to examine and the most necessary with
respect to knowing the truth (1001a45). After sketching the positions of the
two sides, Aristotle presents two arguments in favor of the one itselfs being
the first principle (4, 1001a1927). First, he claims that if one and being are not
ousiai, neither will any of the other universals be ousiai; for these are the most
universal of all, and if neither one itself nor being itself is something, then
scarcely any of the others will be apart () from individuals (1001a2124).
Second, Aristotle argues that were one not an ousia, numbers would not be
separate () natures; for number is units, and the unit is the very
thing that one is (1001a2627).
Both arguments derive from implicit equations of the terms we saw in the
previous set of aporiai. The first assumes that what is most universal is most
apart, an assumption we saw in aporia seven (999a1921) and, apparently, that
what is a principle must exist apart, as Aristotle also assumes there. Since one
itself is most universal, it should be most apart; and being apart, it should
be a principle; and being a principle, it is here apparently assumed to be an
ousia. If, though, one itself is not an ousia, it will be neither a principle nor exist
apart. But if what is most universal is not an ousia, then what is less universal
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Book B: The Aporiai
will not be a principle or apart or, consequently, an ousia. Since these latter are
assumed to be ousiai, one itself must be as well. Aristotle does not explain why
he identifies (at least extensionally) being a principle, existing apart, and being
an ousia and takes them all to be consequences of being universal. Given the
general Platonic context, it is most plausible to suppose that these characters
derive from unity. Aristotle had claimed that Plato makes the one the essence
of the forms (A 7, 988b46), and the present aporia is about this one itself. It is
most one, and the source of unity to the forms. Since a universal is a one over
many, and since the one itself is most one, it should be most universal. As
such, it is furthest from sensible individuals and, thus, most apart or separate.
It is also the first principle and, so, ousia most of all. Consequently, the forms
will each be less one and so less universal, less apart, less a principle, and less
an ousia. If one itself is not an ousia, then neither are the forms. But they are
assumed to be ousiai. Hence, one itself must be as well.
The second argument makes the parallel move for numbers. Numbers, too,
are taken to be ousiai by members of the Academy. They are pluralities of units,
and the unit is more one than they are and, consequently, more separate. But
the unit is the one itself. If even the latter is not an ousia, then numbers will
not be separate or ousiai either.53
Neither of these two arguments is posed in terms of unity, but both are most
readily understood in terms of it. Aristotle is, after all, talking about the one itself
here. He also mentions being itself, but it, too, is most universal and should be,
thereby, most one, apart, and ousia. Plato sometimes distinguishes being and
one, but Aristotle ascribes the same characteristics of principles to both.
The consequences, presumed absurd here, of denying that one itself or
being itself is an ousia is that forms and numbers will not be ousiai. Though
Platonists should concur, Aristotle will hardly be bothered by this result since
he denies forms and numbers are ousiai. What is an issue for him, however, is
why the failure of what is most one to be a principle would not entail every
other unitys failing to be a principle. That is to say, what seems to make one
itself and being itself good candidates for first principles is that they are each
most one, and Aristotle agrees that the principles must be one. It is, as I said,
in respect of its unity that something would be separate, a principle, and an
ousia. The denial that one itself and being itself are ousiai is problematic just
because Aristotle endorses all these characteristics as general markers of
ousiai. Unless one itself and being itself are ousiai, how can anything with
lesser degrees of unity and the other characters be an ousia?
53. As John J. Cleary, Aristotle and Mathematics: Aporetic Method in Cosmology and
Metaphysics, Philosophia Antiqua (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1995),216, notes, the issue
here is not their existence but their mode of being.
Book B: The Aporiai
263
That numbers are also principles by virtue of their unity is implicit in aporia twelve (5, 1001b261002b11). There Aristotle asks whether mathematicals
are ousiai (5, 1001b2628).54 A body seems to be an ousia because an ousia is
a this ( ) and is not predicated of something else (1001b3132).55 But,
Aristotle maintains,
A body is less of an ousia than a plane, a plane less than a line, a line less
than a point and a number, for the body is determined by these and is
impossible without them (1002a48).
Elsewhere, with the same thought in mind, Aristotle calls mathematical entities, especially numbers, ousiai because they are parts that define bodies,
parts without which the bodies could not exist ( 8, 1017b1721). The reason
that points and numbers are called ousiai most of all is that they are the most
fundamental parts. We saw earlier (2.4) that mathematicals are one in quantity and that points and numbers are most one in this way ( 6, 1016b2431).
Constituted from mathematicals, a body is some sort of plurality, and the
mathematical quantities that define it, especially numbers and points, are
more one. Since ousiai are principles, numbers have a claim to be principles
because they are each one.
If numbers and other mathematicals should be principles because each is
one, then Platonic forms, each one to a higher degree than mathematicals, have
a still better claim to be principles. In aporia thirteen (1002b1232) Aristotle
argues for the existence of forms, and the argument depends on showing the
need for a particular type of unity to be the principle of numbers. The reason
there should be forms is that a mathematical entity is one in species but many
in number (1002b1416). The mathematical number two, for example, is one
species, as we saw in aporia seven, but it must have multiple instances in order
that operations like 2 + 2 be possible. Aristotle assumes that the existence of
any plurality requires a unity for its principle:
54. This aporia and the next one are very similar to the fifth, but there the issue was
whether intermediates and forms are included in the subject matter of metaphysics. Here the issue is whether they are principles.
55. John J. Cleary, Working Through Puzzles with Aristotle, in The Crossroads of Norm
and Nature: Essays on Aristotles Ethics and Metaphysics, ed. May Sim (Lanham, Md.:
Rowman & Littlefield, 1995),18081, argues that, despite Aristotles mentioning
his own criteria for ousiai, a Platonic meaning of ousia is at work here, for otherwise Aristotle would not include mathmaticals among ousiai but among what is
predicated of ousia. He also refers to Aristotles discussion of the ways ousia is
said in 8.
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Book B: The Aporiai
So that if there is not apart from the sensibles and the mathematicals
something of the sort that some say the forms are, then no ousia will
be one in number and in species,56 nor will the principles of beings be
quantities in number, but only in species (6, 1002b2225).
According to this reasoning, the motivation for the Platonic forms lies in their
possessing both of the unities that characterize principles, unity in number
and unity in species. Were there mathematical numbers alone, the principles
would each be one in species but many in number; such as the species two
whose instances are individual twos. If, though, every plurality requires a
principle that is one, not only must there be a species of one (though it is not a
number) but the plurality of species of number also requires a numeric unity
as its principle. To avoid two competing principles, Plato identifies the forms
as both numerically and specifically one. Clearly, Aristotle thinks the forms
case to be principles rests on their multiple unities.
56. Following the manuscripts. In his OCT text, Jaeger deletes and in species.
Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria, 233.2628, takes the passage
to assert that no ousia would be one in number, but [only] one in species (
), a reading adopted by Ross in his Greek text.
The reasons for doubts about the manuscripts seem to be the following: (1)
since the parallel next phrase in the text denies that the principles will be quantities in number but only quantities in species (1002b2425, see Alexander),
the present phrase should be denying that an ousia is one in number, though it
is one in species; (2) the issue in the aporia is whether or not there is anything
that is strictly one in number; it is agreed that there are things that are one in
species, the numbers; and (3) since what appears to be the other side of the aporia
is a remark on the absurd consequences of the forms being one in number but
not one in species (1002b3032), we expect the first set of arguments in the aporia,
including the quoted passage, to support the principles being one in number but
not one in species.
The issue here is whether a Platonic form is supposed to be one in number
but not one in species or, as the manuscripts imply, both one in number and one
in species. I think the manuscript reading is required by the logic of the argument. Since the point of the discussion that immediately precedes the present
quotation (1002b1422) is that a one should be posited as a principle of a many,
the highest principle should be one not only in species (as each number is one)
but also in number. Not only must there be many kinds of number, but some one
form that is their numeric principle. Aristotle actually ascribes this view of the
forms to Plato. Without such a numeric unity, the principles of beings would only
be numbers that are each one in species. On the other hand, if his point here is
that the first principle must be only one in number, he will need a way to derive
the principles of numbers, each one in species, from principles that are only one
in number, an issue that came up in aporia nine. I will return to the question of
how to understand the two sides of the aporia later in the text.
Book B: The Aporiai
265
In sum, each Platonic entity is a principle because it is one. This is entirely

consistent with Aristotles treatment of Platonism in book A, as we saw in
Chapter 3, for there he treats unity as the defining characteristic of form. If
something must be one to be a principle, as Aristotle thinks Plato assumes
and as he seems to agree, then the entities that will be principles most of all
are those that are most one: the one itself (aporia eleven), numbers (aporia
twelve), and forms (aporia thirteen). A sign that this group of aporiai is concerned with specific candidates for first principles rather than characteristics
a principle must have, as in the previous group, is that Aristotle here refers
to each of the three Platonic principles as ousiai: he supposes that their unity
makes them ousiai.
The other side of these three aporiai consists of arguments against these entities being the first principles, and, ironically, these arguments also stem from
their unity. The problem with the one itself as well as being itself, Aristotle
argues in aporia eleven, is how there could be anything else (1001a29b1);
for whatever is is one, and anything different from being would not be
(1001a3132). Alternatively, anything other than one itself would not be one;
but a being that is not one is some sort of plurality, and a plurality is also one
(1001b46). It follows, then, that if there is a one itself, there is nothing that is
not one and, so, no number inasmuch as number is a plurality of distinct units
(1001b16). (Ironically, a consequence of denying that one is an ousia is also that
numbers also cannot be ousiai [1001a2427].) Further, if there is a one itself
that is the principle of all things, nothing with magnitude could exist; for one
itself is indivisible and has no magnitude (cf. 6, 1016b2431), and magnitude
could not come from what is indivisible (1001b719).57 Finally, even if number
and magnitude could somehow come from the one itself and something else
that is not one, no explanation is given of why the same principle sometimes
produces the former and other times the latter (1001b1925). This something
else that is not one must be the indefinite dyad from which, together with
one itself, the Academy claimed to derive everything else.58 In A 6 Aristotle
57. The difficulty with this text is how to take its reference to Zeno (see Ross, Aristotles
Metaphysics 1:24546). Is Zeno attacking the Parmenidean one, the Pythagorean
one, or something else? As I understand the passage, Zeno is not doing the attacking; Aristotle refers to him to support his argument against the Platonists. Zeno
assumes that something that being added does not increase what it is added to,
or something that being subtracted does not diminish what it is subtracted from,
does not exist. If this is the case, then a magnitude could not come from the one
itself any more than a line could come from points, for the presence or absence
of the one is presumed not to increase or diminish a magnitude. Hence, the one
itself cannot be a principle of magnitude.
58. See Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria, 228.1228; Madigan, Aristotle.
Metaphysics. Books B and K12,115.
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Book B: The Aporiai
complained about using the same matter multiple times to derive numbers
and sensibles (987b20988a14). Here in B 4 the issue is not the fact of multiple
applications of the dyad, but the puzzle as to why some applications yield
numbers and others magnitudes.
We can read these three arguments together. (1) If there is a one itself and
being itself, then nothing else could exist because there could be nothing other
than being, nor anything that is not one. (2) Moreover, one itself could not
contain within itself diversity or a principle of diversity because any division
of it results in something that is the same; likewise for being itself. Each is one
in generic substrate (cf. 2.2.34). (3) If, there were, per impossibile, something
outside of one, such as a dyad, there would still be no way to derive magnitude, from it and the one itself. Putting this side of the aporia together with
the other, discussed previously, we can say that the eleventh aporia is that (a)
because what is most one should be the highest principle, one itself should be
the highest principle, but (b) if it were the highest principle, either all would
be one or there would be no way to derive everything else from it.
Analogously, the problem with numbers being principles is that they cannot
account for the characters of the bodies of which they are supposed to be the
principles (aporia twelve). Since mathematical entities are not sensible, they
could not be in sensibles nor, consequently, the ousiai of sensibles (1002a1518)?59
Further, mathematical entities seem to be divisions of bodies (a1820); but
since bodies can be divided in any number of different ways, none of the divisions could be the ousia of the body any more than another (a2028). Finally,
bodies can come to be and pass away, but mathematical entities either are or
are not without being in a process of change (1002a28b11). So mathematical
entities cannot account for bodies. On the one hand, mathematical entities
should be the principles and ousiai of bodies because they are more one; on
the other hand, because mathematicals are more one, that is, more indivisible,
they cannot account for bodies that are sensible, divisible in many different
ways, and changing.
59. Reale, The Concept of First Philosophy,80, apparently takes the argument here to be
that surfaces, lines, and points cannot be the ousiai of bodies because, in bodies,
the width cannot be totally separated from the height nor the surface from the
depth. According to Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle,
II. L.13:C 507, Aristotles argument is that mathematical entities cannot be ousiai
because they are accidents and can be altered like other accidents. If they are
taken to be the ousiai of bodies, then the bodies will have no ousiai. This begs the
question; Aquinas just assumes that mathematical entities are accidents rather
than ousiai. Aristotle is supposed to be showing why mathematical entities are
not ousiai. Cleary, Working Through Puzzles,183, suggests that Aristotle is
assuming, oddly, that points and lines must be in bodies if they are to be ousiai.
Book B: The Aporiai
267
Aristotles case against the existence of forms in aporia thirteen consists

of no more than the claim that the impossible consequences of forms that are
one in number but not one in species have already been stated (1002b3032).
He apparently refers to the ninth aporia which claimed that if principles were
one in number, there would not be anything else (999b3133). The point is
that if forms were principles, that of which they are supposed to be principles, numbers and sensibles, could not exista point precisely parallel to
the arguments against the one itself and numbers. The puzzle here is why
Aristotle is arguing against forms that are one in number but not one in species when the Platonic forms for which the other side of the aporia argues are
each one in number and one in species. The one itself would be one in number
and one as a universal, and Aristotle may be relying on the eleventh aporias
arguments against it here (cf. 1001a2627). More likely, Aristotle just takes it
for granted here, as he did in the ninth aporia that the two types of unity are
incompatible. An argument against both types of unity, such as it is, appears
at the end of the sixth aporia (998b1114). Perhaps, here in aporia thirteen he
mentions the possibility that principles be one in number but not in species
only to close off all options.60 However we understand Aristotles argument
here, it is clear that he claims that forms cannot have the unity appropriate
to principles. The thirteenth aporia is that though (a) mathematicals require
a principle that, like form, is one in number, (b) an entity that is numerically
one could not be their principle.
In sum, the aporiai about one itself, mathematical entities, and forms argue
that (a) each should be a principle because it is one, but that (b) none can be
because of the type of unity it has, a type of unity that is incompatible with
its serving as the principle of other things.
The final two aporiai arise from properly Aristotelian concepts. Book Bs
treatment of them is very brief. Aporia fourteen (1002b321003a5) asks whether
the elements exist potentially or some other way. If they are not potential,
then some other principle will be prior to them, namely, a principle that is
potential because the potential is prior to what is actual (1002b341003a2). On
the other side, if the elements are potential, it is possible that no being would
be because the potential may not be actualized (1003a25).
60. It might be objected that principles that are each one in number but not in species was also rejected earlier. Why should Aristotle mention only one of two
alternatives if he argued both earlier? One possible rhetorical answer is that he
has not given the mentioned alternative as much attention as the omitted one:
whereas the incompatibility of one in species and one in number was argued in
aporia six and assumed in nine, and argued again, though implicitly, in eleven,
the impossibility of principles being one in number but not one in species was
argued only once, in aporia nine.
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The first of these arguments clearly draws on the temporal priority of what
exists potentially. On the other side, what is potential might not become actual,
and Aristotle envisions nothings existing. There is an obvious difficulty that
is not always appreciated: if there are potential principles, their very existence
excludes the consequence that nothing is. We might try to avoid this difficulty
by construing Aristotles puzzling justification at 1003a45 to say that whatever
is only possible might cease to exist.61 Then his point would be that potential
principles could cease to be. This is an Aristotelian idea, but there is no good
evidence of it here. Let me, therefore, propose an alternative. The passage
in question is: For what is not yet a being is capable of being since what is
not comes to be, though what is impossible does not come to be (1003a45).
I suggest that what is not, what is not yet, and what is impossible are
relative to some particular being that is assumed to exist. Absolute not being
would, of course, not come to be, and it is too obvious to state that an absolute
impossibility would not come to be. Rather, Aristotle is claiming that elements
that are not yet some particular being have the capacity to become that being
because what is something comes to be from what is not that thing. However,
it might happen that what is not yet a thing would be rendered incapable of
coming to be it. In this case, it would not come to be this being. If the realization of a potential requires something else, then this potential is not primary.
An acorn, for example, is not yet an oak but can come to be the oak, whereas
this is impossible for an acorn that is eaten or deprived of water. Hence, any
acorn and, by extension, any potential requires some additional principle to
make possible its actualization. If all the elements are potentials, it is possible
that they will never form determinate beings (cf. Z 16, 1040a810).
In asking whether an element is potential, this aporia is inquiring about
a characteristic of principles, rather than principles as such. Even so, potentialities belong among the candidates for first principles in the third group
61. Madigan, Aristotle. Metaphysics. Books B and K 12,13640, proposes an elaborate
and complex reconstruction of both arguments of aporia fourteen. He thinks that
the key premise in the second argument is that what exists potentially might
not exist, and he advances two ways to justify this claim. Neither way seems
plausible as interpretations of the present passage, and they are unnecessary if
my interpretation is correct.
It might be objected against my reconstruction that I have Aristotle count what
is impossible among what is potential: rather, if it is impossible that x become y,
then x is not potentially y. It is sometimes said that Aristotle allows no unactualized possibilities, Hintikka, Time & Necessity,93113. However, this latter is a
claim about a species rather than an individual: a species lacks a potential if no
instance has ever realized it, but an individuals not realizing a potential is not
proof of its absence. Whether the first principles are individuals or species was
at issue in aporia nine and is about to be discussed in the next aporia.
Book B: The Aporiai
269
of aporiai. This becomes clear when we recognize that Aristotle is asking

whether an element that is potentially something else is a first principle and
that he eventually resolves this aporia by advancing pure actualities as first
principles. Potentialities constitute a group of seemingly plausible candidates
for first principles.
Aporia fifteen, whether the principles are universals or individuals, has
been discussed earlier. I have already drawn attention to the close connection
between this aporia and the ninth. Let me note only that here, too, Aristotles
arguments assume that a principle must be one, for he claims, against
universals being principles, that they will not be ousiai. He explains that a
universal signifies a such, but that an ousia is a this. If each universal did
signify a this and a one, then Socrates would be many: himself, man, and
animal (1003a812). That is to say, Aristotle assumes that a principle would
have to be an ousia and that in order to be an ousia, a universal would have
to be one; but in that case an individual, falling under many universals,
would be a plurality of ousiai, an absurdity. On the other hand, individuals
are not knowablea character they would have to have to be principles
(1003a1317). As we saw, one is the principle of knowledge, especially one
in formula ( 6, 1016b2021). Again, universal and individual are candidates
for first principles and, thereby, distinct from one in species (formula) and
one in number, the characteristics through which they are principles. If the
universal were a principle, it would have to be an ousia. Hence, this aporia
belongs in the third group.
Since Aristotle associates unity with Plato and other philosophers, it would
not be surprising to find that the two aporiai formulated in his own terminology,
fourteen and fifteen, were not problems about unity. We have seen, however,
that he thinks of aporia fifteen, like the others in the third group, as turning on
unity, only here it is not the unity characteristic of the universal but the unity
it would need to be a first principle or ousia. Only aporia fourteen is not posed
or argued in terms of unity. But there the issue is the priority of potential to
actual, and Aristotle argues, as I understand him, that potentiality could not
be a principle by itself because it requires other principles. We could say that
potentiality is not a first principle because it is part of some plurality of principles that work together. Later he connects actuality with a problem about
unity (e.g., Z 13, 1039a46). So, while aporia fourteen is not argued through
unity, the latter is not far away.
If the analysis of this section is correct, the assumption that unity is the mark
of a principle or an ousia pervades four of the five candidates for first principles
that Aristotle considers in the final group of aporiai and may be implicit in
the fifth. In each of the four cases, it is their unity that seems to make them
good candidates, and their failure to account for something that requires a
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different sort of unity that calls their candidacy into question. If there is an
overarching question that emerges from the third group of aporiai it is, What
entity has the proper sort of unity to be the first principle of beings? What is
aporetic here is that none seems to be one in the right way, and the requisite
unities may be incompatible. In sum, the assumption that a principle must be
one is ambiguous because there are different ways of being one, and Aristotle
draws upon them to argue for and against these candidates.

Early in this chapter I proposed as a paradigm for Aristotles procedure in
book B his refutations of the Eleatics and Plato that depend upon translating
their claims about one into more refined unity language. Having examined
his arguments in the aporiai, we can now ask whether this model is an apt
paradigm for book B.
We have seen that both the second and third groups of aporiai assume that
a principle is one. The ninth aporia is obviously and explicitly a problem of
interpreting the type of unity possessed by a principle, and close examination
of the arguments of other aporiai in the second group showed that they too turn
on interpreting the type of unity a principle must have. On the surface, aporiai
six, seven, and eight inquire about material and generic elements, higher and
lower genera, and apartness; but the arguments, for the most part, concern the
unity of principles. It is not a distortion of the text to say that these four aporiai
are wrestling with the unity appropriate to a principle. What generates these
aporiai is that there are plausible arguments for different and incompatible
types of unity. The last aporia in the second group, the tenth, can, I argued, be
understood as a problem of the number of kinds of principles, and I proposed
that Aristotle answers it in I 10 by treating generic unity, even though there is
little textual evidence in book B that Aristotle regards it as a unity problem.
The third group examine three entities that are candidates for first principles because they are oneone itself or being itself, number, and (Platonic)
formand shows why their unity does not make them first principles. It also
considers two Aristotelian candidates, potentiality and universality. The latter
is an entity defined by its unity, and Aristotles arguments for and against it
turn on the kind of unity it would convey to that of which it is supposed to
be the principle. Hence four of the five aporiai in the third group deal with
candidates whose claim to be first principles derives from their unity, and in
drawing them up Aristotle needs to decide what type of unity they have and
Book B: The Aporiai
271
what sort of unity they could convey to that of which they are supposed to be
principles. Significantly, the unity assumption has a hand in generating both
sides of nearly all the aporiai in the second and third groups. This fact implies
that the problem generating these aporiai is one of interpretation, specifically
the interpretation of the claim that a principle must be one.
The first group of aporiai is presented to us as problems of unity but not
as problems of interpretation. The explicit issue in each is how topics that
ought to fall under the first science can possibly possess enough unity to be
treated by one science. These topics are: all four types of causes, the principles of demonstration, all ousiaiboth sensible and non-sensibleand all
their per se attributes. A science of first causes should include all of them,
and we know from books A and that a science of first causes exists. But
Aristotle assumes that one science treats one genus. For the topics to fall
under one science, they must belong to the same genus; that is, they must
be generically one. The problem is that they lack the requisite unity. Thus,
on one hand, there must be a science of metaphysics that knows all beings;
hence, all must be one in genus. On the other hand, the topics are not one
in genus; hence, there cannot be a science of metaphysics. Again, both sides
assume that one science knows one genus: the existence of the science implies
the unity of its subject genus; the lack of unity of the subjects implies the
non-existence of the science. In his presentation of these aporiai, Aristotle
focuses attention on the character of the topics and on showing that they
do not belong to one genus.
Yet, once we realize that all the topics must fall under the science of metaphysics, it is natural to consider these aporiai from a different direction: what
type of unity would allow the topics to be treated by one science? The problem
is that the topics seem to need generic unity to be treated together in one science, but they do not have this unity. It can be resolved by showing that there
could be a science of some lesser unity and that the required topics have this
sort of unity. That is to say, since it is clear that there is a metaphysicsthat
is, a science that knows: all causes, demonstrative principles, sensible and
supersensible ousiai, and attributesand that this science exists along with
particular sciences that know particular ousiai, all these topics of metaphysics
must have enough unity to fall under one science. The issue is what that unity
would be. Aristotles answer in book B and throughout the Metaphysics remains
one in genus, but he loosens and broadens the meaning of this phrase.
In its narrowest sense, genus refers to a nature common to a group of
entities. Yet, even in the Posterior Analytics Aristotle construes a genus more
broadly, for he speaks of the indemonstrables that are a sciences first principles and the conclusions the science supports as being in the same genus
(A28, 87b14). The conclusions are propositions that contain the subject genus
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Book B: The Aporiai
as a constituent; the indemonstrables are statements of definitions or per se

attributes (cf. A 7, 75a39b2). Thus, per se attributes, the nature that receives
them, the constituents of the natures essence, and all the propositions involving these somehow fall within one genus. This broad sense of genus is the
genus that is the subject of a science as Metaphysics B assumes. Even so, the
topics metaphysics must treat cannot fall under one genus in this sense. The
question we must ask is whether genus might have a still broader sense that
includes the topics discussed in the aporiai or, more precisely, how can one
genus be understood so as to include what falls under metaphysics? This
question differs only in emphasis from the questions Aristotle poses in the
first group of aporiai. Like the questions of the other two groups of aporiai,
it is tantamount to a question about the interpretation of unity: what sort of
unity belongs to a genus? The strongest reason to think that this is Aristotles
question is that it is the question he actually answers in book , as we will see
in the next chapter. (By way of anticipation, I note that the sense of genus at
work in the Posterior Analytics and Metaphysics B is akin to the notion Aristotle
introduces in the next book to solve the first set of aporiaia point that ties
together the aporiai and their solution, and speaks against developmental
accounts.) Apparently, then, the first group of aporiai turn on interpreting the
unity of the subject matter of metaphysics. If this is right, then these aporiai
also conform to the proposed paradigm.
In any case, the first group of aporiai assume that the subject matter of a science is one in genus, and the second and third groups assume that the principles
of a science are each one. The two assumptions, central in the generation of
the aporiai, both concern unity.
To understand these assumptions we need to appreciate the role that subject
genera and principles play in Aristotelian sciences. The subject matter of science
is one genus, and in a particular science (in contrast with metaphysics), the
principle or cause is just the essential nature of that genus. Thus, the genus
and the principle are, in a way, the same. However, in another way, the genus is
broader than the principle. First, the genus includes individuals whose essence
the principle is along with the species that fall under the genus. Second, since
the aim of an Aristotelian science is to demonstrate per se attributes that belong
to individuals in the genus in virtue of their essential nature, the genusin
the broad sense just notedwill also include its per se attributes, both those
that belong to the essence and those that belong in respect of the essence,
and all the propositions involving these. This expanded genus is much wider
than the generic nature that is its principle. It is the possibility of drawing
inferences from the principle through syllogisms that enables Aristotle to
distinguish subject genus from principle. Importantly, because they do differ, the unity ascribed to each need not be the same. Since the principle is, in
Book B: The Aporiai
273
general, an essential generic nature that is definable and knowable, its unity is
one in formula. The individuals in the genus also share a single formula and
are, consequently, what Aristotle terms one in species ( 6, 1016a2428). If
the expanded genus fits under any of the ones distinguished in 6 or I 1, it
would be one in generic substrate. In sum, whereas the principle must be one
in formula or one in species, the genus as a whole must be one in substrate
or in some broader way.
All this stands in sharp contrast with Platonic science. Plato claims repeatedly that form alone can be known. It follows that the principle and the subject
matter of Platonic science are identical. Forms are not merely the principles
of knowledge; they are the sole content of all knowledge. Consequently, Plato
has no need for demonstrationhe relegates it to the mathematical level of the
divided line (Rep. 510cd)nor, consequently, any possibility of distinguishing principles from the subject matter that depends upon them.
Throughout my discussion of the second and third groups of aporiai, I
have spoken of the Platonic notion that form is one as the basis for Aristotles
assumption that a principle is one because form is the Platonic principle.
If, though, the form is also the subject matter, the claim that form is one
could also be the basis for Aristotles assumption that the subject matter
of a science must be one. That is to say, Platos notion that form is one
(A 7, 988b46; Symposium 211b12; Phaedo 80a10b5) falls immediately into
two Aristotelian claims: the principles of a science are each one and the
subject matter (subject genus) of a science is one. (Notice that genus is a
word Plato occasionally uses for form; e.g., Sophist 254d45.) Aristotle agrees
with both, but there is no reason that the unity of the subject matter and the
unity of the principle need be the same. Indeed, we would expect them to
differ for the reasons I have just explained and for a more important reason
I will return to.
Platos claim that form is one is, I propose, the source of nearly all book
Bs aporiai. Both terms in the claim are ambiguous: form could refer to the
principle of knowledge or to the subject known, and one is said in a variety
of ways. Pressing the first ambiguity, Aristotle divides the claim into two:
the subject matter of a science is one (genus) (or as he formulates it one
science knows one genus) and a principle is one. The former is the chief
assumption in the first group of aporiai, the latter is the chief assumption in
the second and third groups.
As for the second ambiguity, the ambiguity of one, I argued that individual aporiai in the first group are concerned with determining the type of
unity possessed by the subject matter of metaphysics. Aporiai in the second
group advance arguments for ascribing various types of unity to principles,
and aporiai in the third group consider candidates that should be principles
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Book B: The Aporiai
by virtue of their unity but that, also because of their unity, cannot serve as
the principle of other things.
In short, nearly all the aporiai arise from a single Platonic dictum. Like the
Eleatic claim that all is one, the Platonic claim is ambiguous and needs to be
translated into more refined terminology. Here, though, instead of finding that no
translation is correct and dismissing the claim, Aristotle argues against all alternatives but still accepts the truth of the Platonic claim. The result is aporia.
There is no reason to think that Aristotles translation is necessarily unfair
to Plato. After all, once we recognize many different ones, assertions about an
unspecified unity need to be interpreted. Moreover, if Plato really did hold the
view that Aristotle apparently ascribes to him, the very identifications that so
trouble Aristotle would be just what Plato might advance to support his view.
The identification of subject matter and principle makes Platonic science neat
and clean; if the forms are both principles of definitions and constituents of bodies, all the better. Aristotle complains of the latter equation in M 8, a passage I
proposed as a paradigm for the aporiai; and, often, what Plato equates, Aristotle
takes pains to distinguish. But we need not suppose that Plato fell blindly into
these equations: they are too profound and interesting for that. If, as I think, they
are a conscious feature of Platos philosophy, then Aristotles translation brings
out not merely the problems but some of the richness of Platos philosophy.
As an account of the means by which Aristotle arrives at the fifteen aporiai
that constitute Metaphysics B, the foregoing is at least as plausible as anything
offered so far. Besides accounting for the details and organization of the text,
it has the advantage of focusing attention on a group of issues that Aristotle
treats later in the Metaphysics. There are, to be sure, other assumptions in the
aporiai besides the unity assumptions, but these latter play a fundamental role
in Aristotles reasoning in book B and, as we will see later, in his solutions.
According to the interpretation advanced here, most of the aporiai arise from trying to interpret the Platonic claim that form is one. The question we must raise
again is why Aristotle accepts this claim. This question is particularly acute once
we realize that he could skirt most if not all the aporiai by simply denying it. He
does dismiss the Eleatic thesis that all is one. Why not dismiss Platos thesis in
the same way? Why does Aristotle agree that form must somehow be one?
The most obvious answer is that Platos claim is itself an interpretation of the
assumption of earlier Greek philosophers that we saw at work in books A and
, the assumption that a cause must be one. Since Plato takes the forms to be
causes, he also thinks that a form is one. Platos further stipulation that there is
a one itself over the forms is presumably the result of his reapplication, to the
plurality of forms, of the argument he first applied to the plurality of sensibles
Book B: The Aporiai
275
to arrive at a single form. But whereas earlier philosophers had sought merely
to find a cause, that is, something that is one, Plato thinks that the cause is
both the subject matter known by science and the principle of things. Aristotle
agrees that both subject matter and principle must be one, but he argues that
they are each one in what seem to be multiple and incompatible ways. (The
constituents of the subject matter should be one in generic substrate, but they
include entities that are one in other ways; the latter should be one in formula
but also one in number.) On this view, his aporiai develop from the assumption
about causes that the earliest philosophers make, and the three opening books
of the Metaphysics fit together quite nicely as a unified exploration of the unity
of a cause. Interestingly, despite his frontal assault on the forms in A 9, Aristotle
accepts the notion of Plato and earlier philosophers that form, or any other cause,
must be one. He would seem, on this reading, to be simply endorsing what all
other Greek philosophers had tacitly assumed. Why, though, does Aristotle
accept this assumption from his predecessors? This question is not raised in
the literature perhaps because it is not generally appreciated how important
the unity assumption is for the aporiai. Before proposing an answer, I want
to explore answers that I think others would have given had they raised
this question. The pervasiveness of the unity assumption in the first three
books of the Metaphysics and in Greek philosophy generally encourages the
thought that the unity of a cause is a common opinion and that Aristotle
endorses it for the same reason he accepts other common opinions. This is
an explanation that G. E. L. Owen might have given of Aristotles acceptance
of Platos claim, had he recognized it. He would have to include form is
one or a cause is one among the common opinions (endoxa), those of
the wise rather than the many (cf. Topics A1, 100b2122).62 Owen maintains
that starting from endoxa or observed facts is typical of Aristotles method.
I shall look more closely at his account of the method in the next section.
My concern here is limited to the question whether this approach explains
why Aristotle endorses the Platonic claim.
62. I am extrapolating from Owens Tithenai ta Phainomena paper. He does not
discuss this endoxon.
Nussbaum, The Fragility of Goodness,2412, thinks that Aristotles reliance on
endoxa in his philosophical methodology represents a decisive break with Plato and
the tradition of Presocratic philosophy because he locates truth in ordinary human
experience, not beyond experience. Were this so, it would scarcely make sense for
Aristotle to use an opinion of Plato that is clearly not derived from experience as a
basis of the aporiai. Indeed, if the method of endoxa is inconsistent with the Presocratic
tradition, it makes no sense for Aristotle to include the opinions of the wise (i.e., the
Presocratic philosophers) among the endoxa. In contrast with the emphasis Nussbaum
puts on ordinary experience, Jonathan Barnes, Aristotle and the Method of Ethics,
Revue Internationale de Philosophie34 (1980):499500, points out that Xenophon and
the orators use endoxa to refer to opinions of men of high standing.
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It is important to see that Owens answer is really no answer: he would

have Aristotle accepting the Platonic notion because it is what Aristotle was
taught or what wise people say. Acceptance of the Platonic claim would be
a matter of historical accidenta consequence of Aristotles finding himself
in a particular community where such beliefs are prized. The claim would,
on this view, bear no intrinsically necessary connection with the subject nor
would there be any compelling reason for Aristotle to accept it. Owen does
not try to justify what a community believes. It is arbitrary.
This is not the way that Aristotle regards metaphysics or other sciences.
He speaks of the necessity of going through the aporiai. We have seen that
the first group of aporiai arise because there are topics that must be treated by
metaphysics. Since this science has a proper subject matter, the subject matter must have sufficient unity to be treated by one science. And, importantly,
metaphysics and other sciences lead to truth, to knowledge of something
real. How could sifting through common opinions that happen to be held by
a community lead to truth? How could it produce more than likely opinions
and consistency? If Aristotle endorses the truth of the Platonic claim despite
the aporiai it engenders, there must be stronger support for it than preponderance of opinion.
Proponents of Owens view might have four responses to my objection.
First, they might claim, rightly, that Owen includes statements of fact and
observation among the endoxa and that these can ground truth. Second, they
might point out that all I have said about the significance of unity for metaphysics and about all sciences knowing what is true is itself common opinion.
Third, they could and, indeed, do contend that Aristotle is not only examining
endoxa but that he makes the further, unrelated assumption that those endoxa
really do describe the world.63 Fourth, they might object that Aristotle would
not make a distinction between truth and endoxa; since he thinks that endoxa
are for the most part true, just showing that the Platonic claim is an endoxon
would support it sufficiently.64
The first response is true but not helpful because no observations ground
or could ground the assumption that a principle is one (see above 1.4.2). The
second response expresses the way we might think of Aristotles views, and
when we think this way we impart a certain arbitrariness to those views.
Aristotle would agree that they are common opinions, but he thinks they
are commonly held because they are true. What we need to explain are his
grounds for thinking them true. The third response seems to offer just this
explanation: the truth of these claims is an additional assumption about
63. Ackrill, Aristotle the Philosopher 27, enunciates this position clearly.
64. Nussbaum, The Fragility of Goodness,24445.
Book B: The Aporiai
277
endoxa in general and unrelated to the specific endoxon in question. But what
supports the assumption? If the assumption about endoxa being true is itself
merely an endoxon, then Aristotle begs the question because he explains one
opinion with another. If, on the other hand, this assumption is more than a
mere opinion, then it needs some appropriate justification. But what could this
be? The empirical evidence that he might draw upon to support a popularly
held common opinion will not help explain an abstract endoxon of the wise,
like the Platonic claim, and empirical evidence could only increase the probability that endoxa are correct. The fourth response implicitly raises the question whether endoxa could be justified beyond showing that they are widely
accepted. What stands behind this question is some sort of Wittgensteinian
idea that since we access the world through language, we can never get behind
language, as it were, to evaluate its truth. This is clearly not a notion Aristotle
would endorse, for it would make everything that he calls true belief and
science merely relative to human social practice.
In sum, none of the responses to my objection meets it adequately. So far
as I can see, Owens position on why Aristotle endorses the Platonic claim
or any other claim comes down to: because it is thought to be so. This is
a position held partly because it accords with current notions but mostly in
default of a better explanation.
Lacking a better explanation for why Aristotle accepts Platos unity
assumption, we might recall those developmental positions mentioned at
the beginning of this chapter and wonder whether Aristotle, steeped in the
metaphysical assumptions of his time, is not exploring their consequences
and raising objections he finds cogent. However, my treatment of the aporiai should speak against this thought. The sequence of the aporiaiparticularly the way that some aporiai presuppose that preceding aporiai had
been solvedand the similarity of some to criticisms of Plato suggest that
Aristotle has solutions ready at hand. There is, at any rate, no indication
that he personally felt stymied by the arguments. Nor is it plausible that
Aristotle accepts the Platonic unity claim rhetorically in deference to his
Platonic audienceon the contrary, there is good evidence that he himself
accepts and continues to accept that a sciences subject matter must be one
and that a principle must be one.
A third line of explanation for Aristotles endorsement of the unity assumption is suggested by Terence Irwins work. Earlier in this chapter I mentioned
that he develops an account of what he terms strong dialectic to explain how
Aristotles examination of endoxa could arrive at and justify true claims, but, as
I noted, he does not apply this account to the aporiai elaborated in MetaphysicsB.
Book B certainly provides no strong dialectic for accepting the unity assumption. If there is such an argument for this claim, we should expect to find it in
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Book B: The Aporiai
books A or , but there Aristotle devotes so much attention to criticizing Platos

arguments for the forms and his conception of their unity that it comes as
something of a shock to realize that he accepts Platos principal claim that form
is one. Aristotle does not present a strong dialectic for this claim, but I think
the way he lays out metaphysics as the science of first causes in books A and
requires that form, or rather, principle and subject matter, be one.
Let me, then, propose an explanation of why Aristotle accepts Platos claim
that form is one. On my view, Aristotle accepts endoxa in metaphysics and
other sciences not simply because they are commonly held but because they
are necessarily true and hold of the subject treated by the science. If Aristotle
accepts the Platonic claim that form is one, that is, that the subject matter
and principle of metaphysics are each one, then he must have some reason
to think it true. The puzzle here is what this reason could possibly be. How
could Aristotle regard a particular view of Plato and his other predecessors as
a necessary constituent of the science of metaphysics, and how could he think
that showing the inconsistencies that arise from this opinion would supply
us with anything more than the most likely view? Any account maintaining
that there is an objective connection between metaphysics and its endoxa will
have to answer these questions.
We know from books A and that metaphysics is a science of first principles
and highest causes. Clearly, the highest cause cannot be composed of parts;
for its parts would then be prior to it, and it would no longer be the highest
cause. The highest cause must be incomposite: it must be one. Moreover, if
the highest cause or principle is to be the highest, it must be independent of the
others and, so, apart from them. Existing apart from and independent of the
others, it is one. In short, the highest cause or principle would need to be one
in multiple ways. It follows that the problem of finding the unity possessed
by the highest principle is inherent in the task of metaphysics.
Similarly, the question of the unity of the subject matter of metaphysics is
also intrinsic to any metaphysics. As a science or discipline, metaphysics is one
among others. Insofar as it is the highest science, it must somehow include the
subject matter of the other sciences. Just how could there be one science of all
things if each thing is already known by some particular science?65 If there is
to be one universal science in addition to the particular sciences, we need to
find what sort of unity all things could possess that would allow them to be
known by a single science (metaphysics) and also known, in other ways, by
65. Plato raises this question in the Charmides (170a171c). The Ion voices a similar
objection against the rhapsodes having an architectonic art (540bc). The same
idea is at work when Socrates questions Gorgias about the subject matter of his art
(Gorgias 449c ff.), and it causes his skepticism that Gorgias could give persuasive
speeches about all things, unless his audience were ignorant (455bd; 459ac).
Book B: The Aporiai
279
particular sciences. In sum, problems about the existence and nature of a science of highest principles are inherently problems about the unity of the subject
matter of that science and the unity of principles. That is to say, the existence
of a science of the first principles of all things turns on the unity of all things
and the nature of this science turns on the unity of the first principle. As we
will see in the next chapter, it is of the utmost importance to this science that
its existence and its nature are distinct issues that turn on distinct unities. If
book B did nothing more than make clear the distinction between the first
group and the two subsequent groups of aporiai, it would make an essential
contribution to metaphysics.
Since only metaphysics could wrestle with its own existence and nature,
not only is the Platonic claim that the form (or cause) is one intrinsic to metaphysics, but so are the manifold difficulties of determining what sorts of unity
the form or cause has as well as what things actually have the types of unity
necessary to function as either subject matter or first cause. I have argued at
some length here that most of Aristotles aporiai are just such difficulties about
unity. Hence, not only is the Platonic unity assumption intrinsic to metaphysics, but so are the aporiai that arise out of it.
This understanding of one and the aporiai in the Metaphysics is surprisingly simple, and it makes the first three books of this work into a cogent and
coherent treatment of the metaphysical problematic. It is natural, though, to
be skeptical of the reasoning because we cannot find it in the text. But, as I
have noted, Aristotle rarely fills us in on how his discussions fit together. It
may well be that in the general Platonic context from which he operates in
the Metaphysics, he takes the centrality of one and the one/many problem for
granted and, therefore, focuses on distinguishing himself from Plato.
In any case, we can now see that he thinks Plato is right to suppose, in
effect, that metaphysics must be concerned with unity. The issue is, what sort
or sorts of unity? Even though Aristotle rejects the specifics of the position
he ascribes to Plato, it is clear that this position is not only a coherent treatment of the problems of book B, but also captures the essential insight into
metaphysics that generates the problems. As I said, for Plato form is both the
subject matter and the principle of a science (see 1.1.1). This is, of course, an
interpretation of Plato in Aristotles terms; but it is well supported in Platos
texts, and it brings out the simplicity and neatness of Platos understanding. It
is a position that Aristotle would need to consider in any case, and part of that
consideration would involve expounding distinctions that Plato intentionally
collapses. Among the alternatives to Platos position on the unity of the subject
matter and the principles are positions endorsed by other Greek thinkers, and
these thinkers also offer candidates for the highest cause that they take to be
most one. But these positions run the gamut of possible positions. Hence, in
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Book B: The Aporiai
discussing philosophical conflicts among his predecessors, Aristotle is talking about issues that would, in any case, be central to metaphysics. Because
they are dealing with an issue central to metaphysics, the one/many issue, the
positions and arguments they advance are central to the discipline.
There is no warrant here for the notion that the aporiai are problems that
happened to trouble Aristotle when he wrote the Metaphysics, nor for claims
that they show his doubts about Platonism or the philosophical position he held
earlier in his career. Even though the aporiai arise from an endoxon of the wise,
this endoxon is intrinsically associated with the science of metaphysics. Again,
for there to be a science of metaphysics there must be some single subject matter
for it to treat, and there must be one principle (or many principles that are each
somehow one) through which the subject matter can be known. Which types of
unity are pertinent here? Are they the same? Again, these questions are intrinsic
to a science of metaphysics. Although the aporiai spring from a Platonic claim,
they would arise even if Aristotle were entirely ignorant of Platos works. They
are problems that anyone who at any time were to give serious thought to the
character of metaphysics as an organized, scientific discipline distinct from, but
somehow standing over, other disciplines would have to confront.
If this is right, then Aristotles metaphysical aporiai stand to his discipline
of metaphysics much in the way that the problems tackled by geometry
stand to that discipline. In both, difficulties arise out of and are intrinsic to
the disciplines subject matter. We are as little justified in supposing that the
metaphysical aporiai are merely personal difficulties as we would be in supposing the same of the geometers problems. In this respect the metaphysical
aporiai are no different from the aporiai Aristotle sets out in works on other
subjects. In sum, although the metaphysical aporiai originate when Aristotle
attempts to make sense of a Platonic claim about the unity of form by translating it into his own more refined unity language, book Bs problems about
unity are inherent in metaphysics as Aristotle conceives of it.
Although metaphysical aporiai resemble mathematical problems in being
inherent to the discipline, their treatment and solution differ significantly.
We solve a mathematical problem by demonstration. A metaphysical problem cannot be solved in this way because, first, there is no nature or axioms
from which to demonstrate: what the nature is and, indeed, whether there is
a nature are at issue, as are the axioms themselves. Whereas Aristotle poses
aporiai in his various philosophical disciplines as part of the process of coming
to understand the disciplines subject nature, metaphysical aporiai ask more
fundamental questions about how there can be a subject nature. Second, we
Book B: The Aporiai
281
have seen that the metaphysical aporiai are antinomies, contradictions, that
arise because there are seemingly good arguments on both sides. Solution
requires not finding the answer, but removing the problem.
How, then, do the aporiai function as part of Aristotles method? The best
known and most widely accepted answer to this question is given by G. E. L.
Owen in his paper Tithenai ta Phainomena, and has since been endorsed and
elaborated upon by many others.66 Owen bases his answer on a passage in
the Nicomachean Ethics (H 1, 1145b27, quoted at the beginning of this chapter) where Aristotle prefaces a treatment of akrasia with a description of his
method. There Aristotle speaks of three parts to the method: (1) setting forth
what seems to be (ta phainomena)including both the facts and the opinions
held about them (ta endoxa), Owen argues; 67 (2) puzzling through the aporiai,
and (3) demonstrating the common opinions. According to Owen, the aporiai
arise because either fact and common opinion conflict or because common
opinions conflict among themselves. He sees the task of the philosopher as
the sorting through of these common opinions so as to reconcile as many of
them to each other as possible while discarding as few as possible.68 It is this
process of selective sifting and preserving of common opinions that Owen
refers to as saving the phenomenon, a phrase that has become a banner for
subsequent discussions of Aristotles philosophical method.
In the previous section I argued that Owens notion of endoxa does not
explain the force of Aristotles commitment to the Platonic principle that form
is one. At issue now is the method that Owen thinks Aristotle uses to sort
through the endoxa so as to eliminate aporia. I think that the central problems
with Owens method are similar to the problems with his view of endoxa.
Proponents of Owens view have often emphasized the similarity of this
method to that of contemporary philosophers. Thus, common opinions
resemble the data examined by ordinary language philosophers.69 Finding
conflicts in these opinions is supposed to be a way to filter out the pernicious
ones and to order the rest, and this latter process, rather than demonstration,
is understood as the method of philosophy.
66. Owen, Tithenai ta Phainomena. Those who have expounded or developed this
view include: Barnes, Aristotle and the Method of Ethics; Nussbaum, Saving
Aristotles Appearances in Language and Logos, 26793 and in The Fragility of
Goodness, 24063; and Terence Irwin, Aristotles First Principles, 3650, 17488.
67. See note 9 of this chapter.
68. Barnes, Aristotle and the Method of Ethics,493, emphasizes the process of purifying the opinions, but otherwise he presents the usual view of the method.
69. Barnes, Aristotle and the Method of Ethics,502, 510; Nussbaum, The Fragility of
Goodness,24351, argues that Owen was mistaken to allow a Baconian realm of
facts any role in Aristotles methodology, for common opinion or appearances...
can go all the way down.
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Book B: The Aporiai
As I suggested earlier, the supposed similarity between Aristotelian and

contemporary methodology, whatever its appeal, should make us skeptical of
this account. There are at least five grounds for skepticism. First, as I noted in
the preceding section, sifting through common opinion would not produce principles or conclusions bearing the truth that Aristotle imputes to them. Attempts
have been made to show that this method would indeed produce propositions
that we would claim to be certain.70 Without looking at the detailssome of
which turn on texts to be considered laterlet me simply note the implausibility of success: Aristotles syllogistic demonstrations are based upon something
ontologically different from and epistemologically stronger than unrefuted common opinion, namely, intelligible essential natures. Unless Aristotle diminishes
his requirements for truth, it is hard to imagine how the method of saving the
phenomenon could meet them. Second, the crucial third step of the method
is vague, and Owen supplies no guidelines on how to identify and exclude
pernicious opinions. Without elaborating this step, the procedure hardly counts
as a method. Third, Owens account relies on a feature of ethics not generally
present in other sciences (N. E. A 3, 1094b1128): ethics does not admit of the
accurate demonstrations possible in theoretical sciences. Hence, a method
that would produce results that were only likely would not be problematic for
ethics, but would be so for other sciences. Aristotle does say that his method
applies to other cases (1145b23), but on Owens account that method could
only produce the sort of inexact results that are proper to practical rather than
theoretical sciences. Fourth, to speak of sorting out common opinions hardly
does justice to the originality of the doctrines that Aristotle introduces in the
Metaphysics. There is nothing in the opinions of his predecessors or, clearly,
in observed facts to prepare us for Aristotles doctrine of pros hen, his identification of form as essence and actuality, and his treatment of the unmoved
moversdespite what he says about the latter at 8, 1074a38b14. Finally, the
careful organization of the aporiai we have seen here and the intrinsic connection between metaphysics and the common opinion about the cause that plays
a key role in generating them obviate the motivation to appeal to either facts or
peculiar doctrines of his predecessors to explain the aporiai. Again, Aristotle
is not simply confronting the opinions of his age; he is wrestling with ideas
that anyone advancing a metaphysics would have to examine. This explains
his insistence that working through the aporiai is a necessary step toward
knowledge (B 1, 995a2425; quoted in section 4.0).
There is one claim Aristotle makes more than once that I think is decisive
for understanding the aporetic method. In the opening lines of MetaphysicsB,
he says:
70. For example, Nussbaum, The Fragility of Goodness, 25158.
Book B: The Aporiai
283
For those who want to proceed smoothly () it is useful to

be thoroughly puzzled ( ), for later smooth passage
() is the solution () of earlier aporiai (B 1, 995a2729).
Ross translates the last clause as: the subsequent free play of thought implies
the solution of the previous difficulties. But the text is stronger: the free play
of thought or, better the smooth passage is the solution. Lest there be any
doubt about Aristotles meaning, consider similar passages, including the
text Owen cites:
For if the difficulties are solved and the common opinions remain, it will
be demonstrated sufficiently (N. E. H 1, 1145b67).
The refutations of the disputers are demonstrations of positions contrary
to these (Eudemian Ethics A 3, 1215a67).
It is necessary to try to make the investigation in such a way that the
nature [of place] will be given so that the aporiai will be solved, and
what seems to belong to place will belong to it, and further the cause of
the difficulty and the aporiai about it will be clear; for in this way each
might best be demonstrated (Physics 4, 211a811).
What is striking about all these passages is the equation they make between
solving an aporia and demonstrating a doctrine. As I said, the method Owen
describes could not produce demonstration.
Perhaps, however, the demonstration to which these texts refer is less formal
than scientific demonstration which is, after all, through syllogism. Owen might
grant that solving an aporia does not produce a syllogism but, nonetheless,
insist that the method does serve to support a conclusion. On the other side,
though, it is hard to see how what he describes could count as demonstrating
even in a looser sense. Aristotle claims that going through the aporiai helps us
to judge between alternative solutions to a problem (995b24), but how does
examining common opinions and discovering their inconsistency help one
decide which to discard? An aporia is a bond or knot (995a2930) that prevents
us from going forward because seemingly sound arguments on both sides
take us in contrary directions. It only arises when we have no good basis to
choose one side over another. How, then, can we decide between alternative
opinions? If we do somehow decide, have the common opinions that are
retained been demonstrated in any sense? Of course, if the arguments for
one side of the aporia can be disabled, then the arguments for the other side
stand. This might count as proof of some sort, but it is unlikely to be Aristotles
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Book B: The Aporiai
procedure because we have seen that the same unity assumption is responsible
for arguments on both sides of an aporia. Disabling this assumption would
disable arguments on both sides. Could it constitute proof?
Maybe Aristotles talk of demonstrating by solving aporiai is just hyperbole,
and he means neither formal proof nor informal proof. Perhaps he means only
that working through the problems puts us in a position to judge which common opinion is most plausible. This would be consonant with Owens method
but of no use for finding the principles of an Aristotelian science. The entire
science would remain as shaky as the truth of the principles upon which it
is based. There needs to be some sort of proof if puzzling through an aporia is
going to lead to truth.
My analysis of the aporiai in this chapter suggests how this proof works,
and we will confirm in the next chapter that Aristotle does use the aporiai to
argue for metaphysical doctrines. First, it should be clear that book B aims to
get us into knots and that Aristotle thinks that being puzzled is essential to
progress in metaphysics (995a2830). In presenting the aporiai I have tried to
show that each is indeed a genuine antinomy with apparently solid arguments
for contradictory conclusions. But we cannot rest in a contradiction. In order
to extricate ourselves, we must understand the assumptions that drive us into
aporia. I have traced these assumptions to one fundamental claim about unity
that admits of multiple interpretations. In one guise or another it stands behind
nearly all the aporiai. Importantly, it plays a role in generating arguments on
both sides of a single aporia. Because this assumption is generating the aporiai, it
is clear that it must be modified if we are to avoid aporia and contradiction. As
we saw, it cannot be discarded: it is fundamental to any metaphysics. Hence,
the only path out of contradiction is to modify the assumption so that, in each
aporia, contradiction is avoided while the assumptions essential claim of a
science of first principles of all things is upheld. In other words, book B works
to put us in aporia by arguing contrary claims. Deadlocked, we must find a
way out of contradiction. We can do so by discovering the assumption that
generates the contradiction. This much has been done in book B. It remains
to find a way to modify the assumption or, rather, the various interpretations
of this assumption so as to avoid contradiction. This is the task that book
accomplishes for most of the first set of aporiai. At first glance we might
suppose that there would be multiple ways of making these modification. Yet,
at the end of book B, it is unclear that there would be any. After all, each aporia
presents us with a number of conditions that a solution would have to meet;
an account of the subject matter, for example, would need to satisfy claims
about the subject matter in both sides of the first five aporiai, and it would need
to be consistent with the claims about principles in the rest. If there is one
unique doctrine that skirts a series of contradictions that would be unavoidable
Book B: The Aporiai
285
without it, that doctrine must be true. It is not just that we are psychologically
willing to embrace a doctrine that enables us to avoid aporia: the doctrine is
justified by its unique ability to avoid contradiction. In this way, the aporiai serve
as part of an argument for a doctrine. To show that a doctrine alone resolves
an otherwise insurmountable aporia is to argue compellingly for it.
More formally, we could say that in presenting each aporia Aristotle shows
that (1) neither A nor not-A is true. This is unacceptable. Assume that (2) doctrine S allows us to avoid the contradictory conclusion and that (3) no other
doctrine does so. It follows that (4) doctrine S must be true. Thus, merely
finding S is at once a demonstration and smooth passage. So understood, the
aporetic method demonstrates truths.
This account of the method needs to be refined in at least three ways.
First, the sides of the aporia are not strictly contradictory. They might be better termed potential contradictions. For example, Aristotle shows that there
are cogent arguments for taking the principles to be constituent parts of a
composite and constituent parts of its formula (each of which counts as an
argument against the alternative). This is only going to be contradictory if
there is a compelling reason for thinking that the principle is a constituent
in some way, and this latter is, I am arguing here, a consequence of the unity
assumption. It is because its being a constituent would make the principle
one that it should be a constituent. The refinement we need to make is to
include the unity assumption. With it, this aporia becomes a deadlock that is
tantamount to contradiction.
A second refinement is needed in my description of (3). Aristotle does not
argue that no other doctrine will resolve an aporia either when he presents the
aporiai in book B or later when he introduces solutions. Indeed, he does not
even claim this is so. This omission undermines the possibility of deducing
a solution to an aporia. However, Aristotle uses several strategies to nearly
eliminate alternative solutions. First, by drawing out the aporiai thoroughly,
he can show the difficulty of advancing a solution. In particular, he sometimes
marks off and excludes whole classes of solutions. A completely effective exposition of an aporia would exclude all possible solutions. In that case, merely to
discover the possibility of a solution is to find a strong argument in its favor.
In the practical sciences, in contrast with the theoretical sciences, it is difficult
to say that all cases have been examined: this, I take it, is part of the reason
that ethics and politics arrive at conclusions that are true only for the most
part (N. E. A 3, 1094b1922). Because the alternatives in metaphysics are more
determinate, a thorough treatment of both sides lays a more solid ground for
uniqueness. A second way of supporting (3) is to lay out solutions to a series
of aporiai so that later solutions build on earlier ones. Any proposed solution to
an aporia needs to be consistent with solutions to other aporiai. By showing that
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Book B: The Aporiai
a series of interconnected moves resolve several seemingly insoluble aporiai,

he makes a plausible casebut only a plausible casefor the uniqueness of
each solution. Aristotles most important strategy for supporting (3) is to trace
both sides of an aporia to the same unity assumption. Because it leads to both
sides of a contradiction, we can be reasonably certain that the assumption
is incorrect, and by exploring the arguments on both sides, we come to see
how to modify the assumption so that it can do its work without generating
a contradiction. The work of the unity assumption, in one version, is to define
the subject matter of metaphysics in such a way that all that it must include
would have sufficient unity to be treated by a single science. Ordinarily, the
subject matter of a science is one genus, but this will not allow the topics that
metaphysics must treat to be included in its subject matter. Aristotle needs
to introduce a broader, more inclusive notion of genus that remains sufficiently one to be the subject of one science. To resolve this set of aporiai, he
needs a structure that meets this requirement while leaving intact the bulk
of the claims these aporiai make about the subject of metaphysics. That there
would be such a structure is so implausible that merely to show its possibility
is to argue for it strongly.
Of course, it is easy to find alternative solutions if we are willing to abandon
certain assumptions that generate an aporia. I do not mean the unity assumption:
we have seen that that is sacrosanct. But Aristotle uses many other assumptions
to formulate each aporia. It is tempting to try to remove some of them. This is
where I think saving the phenomena and common opinions really come in.
Aristotles insistence that the latter should be preserved amounts to blocking
this apparently easy way out. Thus, common opinions function in two ways.
First, they serve to generate the aporiai, and we have seen the prominent role
of the Platonic common opinion that form is one and its multiple interpretations. Second, common opinions constitute the additional assumptions that
Aristotle uses to draw contradictions from the Platonic common opinion. To
resolve an aporia, we should find its source in a doctrine that generates both
sides and modify that doctrine so as to avoid contradiction. Aristotles insistence
on saving the phenomenon amounts to an injunction to find and revise the
source of the problem rather than taking the easy way of setting aside other
assumptions. In other words, most common opinions function in Aristotles
aporetic method as side constraints rather than principal foci: a resolution of
an aporia ought to preserve these endoxa while it modifies the more central
unity assumption, and any modification of the latter must preserve its role in
characterizing a sciences subject and principles. Modifying a side assumption
might avoid some formulation of a contradiction, but it does not resolve the
issue. If our only goal were to avoid contradiction, we could always achieve it
by getting rid of some or even all of our assumptions. But obviously this does
Book B: The Aporiai
287
not resolve the problems any more than ceasing to think about a philosophical
problem makes it go away. Aristotles goal is not simply to make the difficulties vanish but to resolve them.
As Aristotle explains it, in a passage quoted earlier, the goal of examining
the aporiai about place is to show that most of what seems to belong to something like place actually does belong. How will he show this? By presenting
difficulties about place in a way that makes clear the doctrine that generates
both sides of the difficulty, and then introducing a modification of that doctrine, that is, a doctrine of place that resolves those difficulties while leaving
intact most of the assumptions about place that are made in formulating the
problems. Such a modification must be right because it resolves the problem
rather than simply avoiding it. A sign of the difference is that the modification
that resolves aporia is a claim about the nature of place: the method should
bring knowledge, not just the avoidance of error. So, too, a doctrine about the
subject matter and the principles of metaphysics will be demonstrated once
Aristotle can show that it resolves the aporiai about them by undermining the
doctrine that generates aporia. Doctrines that resolve aporiai are not generally
common opinions: they are Aristotles original doctrines. As we will see, they
are the doctrines readers have always understood to constitute Aristotles
philosophy. In demonstrating these doctrines, at least those that resolve the
first set of aporiai, Aristotle is demonstrating that there is a nature to be known
by metaphysics, rather than what it is or its attributes.
Such is the resiliency of Owens interpretation that I can imagine its advocates insisting that my account is also a way of sorting through common
opinions. But my account differs significantly in this respect: whereas Owen
understands Aristotles method as preserving common opinions, saving the
phenomena, I see the method as a way for Aristotle to argue for new doctrines
by showing that they (and, implicitly, they alone) resolve otherwise insoluble
problems. These doctrines must, Aristotle insists, save the phenomena,
but this is a side constraint on the new doctrine, not the main thrust of the
method. An acceptable doctrine should be consistent with what most people
or the wise believe, but more importantly it must resolve the aporia.
As I presented it initially, Aristotles method is formally deductive. However,
since one premise, (3), is not supported fully, despite the moves that strengthen
its plausibility, it should be called inductive if we reserve this latter term
for all reasoning that provides probable, rather than necessary support for
a conclusion. With the refinements I suggested, Aristotles method is best
described as one of problem solving; it resembles heuristic methods used by
mathematicians. Drawing out the aporiai at length, Aristotle aims to focus our
attention on the sources of difficulties, on those assumptions that generate
contrary conclusions, and to come to find alternative doctrines. Once a doctrine
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Book B: The Aporiai
is found that avoids the problems, all Aristotle needs to do to support it is to

introduce it and show that it does indeed avoid the problems. This is not a
method of logical or linguistic analysis but a method of discovery.
Importantly, most of the discoveries that are made by resolving the aporiai
explain unity, that is, the unity of metaphysics subject matter and the unity
of the principles it treats. Inasmuch as metaphysics must have a single subject
matter if it is to exist and must treat principles that are one if it is to treat first
principles, the aporiai that Aristotle raises in Metaphysics B are intrinsic to
metaphysics and their resolution is necessary for metaphysics. This is the third
refinement to my formal statement of the aporetic method in the Metaphysics:
nearly all the metaphysical aporiai Aristotle expounds are unity problems
that arise intrinsically from the idea of metaphysics and must necessarily be
resolved for there to be metaphysics. It is this special status of the metaphysical
aporiai that makes the Platonic endoxon about the unity of form an insightful
and insurmountable truth rather than merely something someone thought.71
The unity of the subject matter and its principles are phenomena that must
somehow be saved even if that requires modifying our understanding of their
structure and nature. Insofar as there is but one modification that preserves
unity and avoids aporia, it must be true. In general, the doctrines that Aristotle
introduces to resolve the aporiaiand, again, these are his most original and
characteristic doctrinesare not doctrines about unity, but often doctrines
about being. Because Aristotle rarely ties together solution and problem, it is
easy to miss the connection between the aporiai about unity and the doctrines
about being that resolve them and, thereby, to miss the implicit aporetic arguments that support the doctrine of being.
In the next chapter, I shall argue that Aristotles practice of his method is
just what I have sketched here, that the important doctrines he introduces in
Metaphysics serve to resolve or contribute toward resolving the first set of
aporiai, and that their resolving these aporiai serves as arguments in support
of them.
71. Politis, Aristotle on Aporia,16364, is also concerned with the question of how
Aristotle can use aporiai that derive from conflicting opinions to arrive at objective
truth. Considering a paper of mine, he takes me to be answering this question
by noting that the aporiai contain objective content (p. 165). Politis then argues
that objective content is not sufficient; he insists that the objectivity of the content
must lie in the objectivity of the aporia itself and not just in the objectivity of the
positions taken on it, and he adds a second condition, that the aporiai be necessary
to the subject matter of the search. In a footnote, Politis notes that I also think
that the aporiai are necessary for metaphysics, but only those about unity. Since I
think nearly all the aporiai are about unity, and that they are problems intrinsic
to metaphysics, Politis and I are not so far apart. However, he does not explain
how a solution can be objective.
CHAPTER
Book : The Unity of Being
Metaphysics opens with what appears to be a statement of fact: There is a science that investigates being qua being and what belongs to it per se (1003b2122).
Aristotle goes on to identify this science with the science of first principles
and highest causes that he has been discussing in earlier books: he claims
that it is necessary to seek the first causes of being qua being (1003a2631).
We saw that the first group of aporiai raise obstacles to the existence of such a
science on the grounds that the topics it treats could not, apparently, fall under
a single science. Aristotles unqualified assertion of its existence in the first
line of book stands as a claim that these obstacles have indeed been overcome. It is, as we will see, the conclusion of an argument, indeed, of multiple
arguments. In this chapter I will show that in 13 Aristotle advances seven
arguments for the existence of metaphysics. The reason readers have missed
this point is that Aristotle formulates the conclusion of each argument as a
claim that there is one science of some topics. This formulation is exactly what
we should expect after book B; for, again, he is responding to the challenges
to the existence of metaphysics that the first group of aporiai raise when they
argue against one science. In order to prove that metaphysics exists, Aristotle
must prove that the topics it treats fall under one science, and this is what
he does in book 13. This dovetailing of aporiai and resolutions supports
my unity interpretations of both. Moreover, the close analysis of Aristotles
arguments in will show that he uses the aporetic method I sketched at the
end of the last chapter.
It is important to appreciate that 13 are not stand-alone arguments for
the existence of metaphysics. We already know from book that there are
first causes and this, in itself, constitutes some knowledge about them. Thus,
we know that there is some sort of metaphysics, and books A and have even
given us a taste of it. The problem we face is that there are serious grounds
to doubt there could be such a science. 13 aim to remove those doubts.
Doing so, they establish the existence of metaphysics. Unlike Descartes,
Aristotle does not think that merely removing doubt suffices to demonstrate
truth, for he relies on s arguments for there being first causes. To put this
point another way (and to invoke another famous philosopher), 13 aim to
. See Owens, Doctrine of Being,261.
289
290
show how metaphysics is possible. Although we already know from A and

that it should exist, Aristotle is showing that it does exist, by showing how it is
possible. Unlike Kant, Aristotle does not show how metaphysics is possible
by invoking a transcendent cause or a transcendental faculty, but by showing
that its subject matter is one.
Much of book (Chapters 38) consists of arguments for the principles of
non-contradiction (PNC) and excluded middle (PEM). Despite its intrinsic
interest, this section has not seemed to readers to advance Aristotles central
inquiry into being. My discussion in this chapter aims to show how it does
just that: by considering how Aristotle assumes, apparently, a sort of unity to
defend these principles, I will argue that he aims to demonstrate, indirectly,
one of his key metaphysical doctrines, namely, that each being has an essence
and a nature.
Before beginning, we should note several difficulties with 12 that are
much discussed in the literature: (1) What is the meaning of being qua being?
Scholars are divided on whether it refers to being or ousia. It has become
popular to say that being qua being should not be read as a single expression, but that qua being is an adverb that describes the way that being is to
be investigated. I will argue that even if true, this does not solve the problem.
Since the best way to understand being qua being is to see how Aristotle
uses it in his argument, I defer discussion of the issue. In the meantime, I use
the phrase being qua being as a kind of placeholder for the subject matter
of metaphysics, whatever it is. As it happens, I think that Aristotle also uses
the phrase as a placeholder, but my using it this way will not prejudice my
case. The question about being qua being is closely connected with another
issue, (2) does the subject matter of metaphysics include all beings or only the
highest beings? This question is sometimes equated with (3) is metaphysics an
ontology or a theology? However, (3) concerns not what the subject matter of
metaphysics is so much as how it is to be treated. Thus, someone could answer
(1) and (2) with being and all beings and still hold that metaphysics is a
theology because its primary object is the first principles through which it
. This view was enunciated by Auguste Mansion, Philosophie Premire, Philosophie

Seconde et Mtaphysique chez Aristote, Revue Philosophique de Louvain56 (1958):217.
It has since been endorsed by Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,77,
Jonathan Lear, Aristotles Philosophy of Mathematics, Philosophical Review91
(1982):16869, Jonathan Barnes, Aristotle, Past Masters (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1982),2526, and many others.
. Patzig, Theology und Ontology,41; orig.: G. Patzig, Theologie und Ontologie
in der Metaphysik des Aristoteles, Kant Studien 52 (196061): 195. Patzig seems
to assume that any science that studies all beings is an ontology.
291
knows all beings. Similarly, one could answer (1) by identifying being qua being
with ousia but still hold that (answering [2]) the subject matter of metaphysics
includes all beings because everything else belongs to ousia, and metaphysics
studies being qua being together with what belongs to it. That it is possible to
endorse broader answers to some questions and narrower answers to others
shows that these three questions are not identical. The last two questions are
particularly difficult and far-reaching, and, besides what will emerge here, I
shall have more to say about them in the final chapter.
Many doctrines from book are thoroughly familiar. What is new in my
treatment is, first, the claim that Aristotle argues for them and the explanation
of how these arguments resolve the first set of aporiai. Understanding Aristotles
argumentative context and the work the doctrines do gives us a handle on
their proper interpretation. It also sheds new light on the organization of this
difficult text. Most importantly, though, this chapter will develop a way to
understand the science that knows being qua being and what belongs to it
per se that, though absent from the literature, fits beautifully with the text of
, the issues it deals with, and the rest of the Metaphysics.

The existence of metaphysics was surely as problematic to Aristotle and his
contemporaries as it is to us. Indeed, a universal science of all beings seems to
contradict Aristotles own view of the character of a science; for according to
the Posterior Analytics each science treats a distinct genus (A 28, 87a38), whereas
being does not constitute a single genus (Met. B 3, 998b22). As we saw in the
last chapter, one side of each of the first four aporiai argues, in effect, that a
subject treated by metaphysics does not belong to a single genus. In order for
Aristotle to apply his model of a science to metaphysics, he needs to show that
metaphysics does somehow treat a genus and that the causes it seeks belong
to the genus nature. Again, s opening sentence asserts the existence of this
science: Aristotles model must apply, and the arguments of the aporiai must
somehow be overcome.
The first step toward understanding Aristotles solution is to notice
passages that make virtually the same claim as s opening line. The last
sentence of 2 asserts as a conclusion: That it belongs to one science to
. Owens, Doctrine of Being,465, argues that metaphysics treats all beings because
it treats the highest beings, but he denies that it is an ontology and claims that
being qua being is ousia.
. For more on the difference between these three issues see Halper Being qua Being
in Metaphysics , Elenchos: Rivista di Studi sul Pensiero Antico8 (1987):4446.
292
investigate being qua being and what belongs to it qua being is clear . . .
(1005a1314). There are two verbal differences between this sentence and
s opening assertion. First, the opening assertion includes in the science
what belongs per se, whereas the conclusion includes what belongs
qua being. Aristotle equates such expressions in the Posterior Analytics
(A 4, 73b2627), and here in 1 he contrasts qua being with accidental
(1003a2931), a sure sign that it means per se. A second difference is that the
first sentence of asserts that there is a science that investigates being qua
being and what belongs to it, whereas the last sentence of 2 claims that
there is one science of being qua being and what belongs to it. It ought to be
clear from my preceding chapter that these claims are equivalent. If there is
one science studying being qua being and what belongs to it, then there is a
science studying this topic and vice versa. And if this topic falls under many
sciences, then no one science could be the science that treats it and that is,
thereby, metaphysics. Contrariwise, to show that topics that ought to belong
to metaphysics do indeed fall under one science is to argue in support of
the existence of metaphysics. Once we see the equation between the being
of the science and the sciences being one, it is clear that the first sentence of
1 and the last sentence of 2 make the same point. Since the last sentence
is clearly a conclusion, the first must be as well.
Between the first sentence of and the last sentence of 2, Aristotle draws
this conclusion or some variation of it multiple times, and he draws it once
more in 3. At 1003b1516 and at 1005a23, he concludes that one science
investigates being qua being (or beings qua beings), omitting what belongs to
it per se. At 1003b2122, Aristotle claims, as I will interpret the passage, that
one generic science knows the species () of being qua being and the species of those species. At 1003b3335 he ascribes the species of being and the
species of one to one science; at 1004a31b1 he claims that one science knows
ousiai and opposites. Further, Aristotle says at 1004b1517 that the philosopher
knows the attributes of being qua being and, at 1005b911, that he knows the
first principles (the demonstrative principles) of it.
My contention is that these claims are the conclusions of seven arguments
that work together to establish that there is a science of metaphysics and,
thereby, to disable four of the first five aporiai of book B. It is widely accepted
that doctrines introduced in 12 resolve some aporiai. What has not been
appreciated is how tightly Aristotle argues his position and how his arguments
. Owens, Doctrine of Being,260, notices the significance of the Posterior Analytics for
understanding this discussion. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and
E,76, refers to this passage of the Posterior Analytics, but he does not rely on that
work to any extent. More on the Posterior Analytics later.
293
work together to delimit a unity that includes all the topics of metaphysics
subject matter without absurd consequences. Let us work through these
arguments in turn.
It is sometimes said that, in 1, Aristotle establishes the existence of a science
of being qua being and what belongs to it empirically by pointing to attempts
of other philosophers to find the elements of things. Although there is an
extensive Greek tradition of inquiry into first principles and Aristotle alludes
to it here (1003a2929), the mere fact of inquiry would hardly seem capable
of establishing the possibility of success, particularly when Aristotle insists
that sciences have a fixed structure. Moreover, although he can rely on the
arguments for highest causes in , nothing yet said supports identifying the
science of these causes with the science that knows being qua being. Even
granting this identity, we need to ask how Aristotle can assert the existence of
a science that the first group of aporiai challenge. The history of metaphysical
inquiry is, it seems, a sign that these aporiai can be resolved: were metaphysical inquiry impossible, people would have given it up long before Aristotle.
But Aristotle still needs to resolve the first set of aporiai, and this he does in
23, as we will soon see.
1 supplies some preliminaries. First, Aristotle distinguishes the science
that studies being qua being from those said in part: it investigates being
qua being universally, whereas they each cut off a part of this subject matter
and study the attributes of this part (1003a2126; cf. K 4, 1061b2128). (Whether
they cut off a part of being qua being or being is unclear from the grammar of
the sentence.) Then, Aristotle advances the following peculiar argument:
Since we are seeking the principles and highest causes, clearly these
must belong to some nature per se (1003a2628).
Is it clear that the causes belong to some nature? Surely, it is not because of the
subjective fact that we seek the principles that they belong to some nature.
Rather, the assumption seems to be that since metaphysics is some sort of
. Referring to the inquiries of earlier philosophers into the four causes of the Physics
as described in Metaphysics A, Owens, Doctrine of Being,26263, claims that the
existence of the science is established empirically. He takes the first sentence of
to be either the same as or implied by the last sentence of 1, the claim that we
should seek the first causes of being qua being (1003a3132); but he takes the last
sentence of 1 as a conclusion that follows from the empirical fact that philosophers have been seeking first causes.
294
science, it must, like all other Aristotelian sciences, study some nature and
seek its principles. What nature would this be? Aristotles text continues:
Accordingly, if those seeking the elements of beings were seeking these
principles, it is necessary that they be the elements of being not accidentally, but qua being (1003a2831).
Those seeking the elements of beings are the philosophers Aristotle had
discussed in book A, and he is saying that they, too, were seeking these
principles and highest causes. If, though, we are to make sense of these two
quotations together, the nature whose principles and causes the first quoted
sentence speaks about could only be the being whose principles and elements the second mentions. Aristotle is saying that we are seeking principles
and causes that belong to the nature of being not accidentally, but per se or,
equivalently, qua being.
On the face of it, Aristotles claimor this interpretation of itis absurd.
Being is not a nature. It does not admit of attributes or causes that belong to
it; and even if it did, its attributes or causes could not be highest causes
because, though they may be elements within it, the nature to which they
belonged would be prior to them.
Yet, rather than simply dismiss Aristotles text, let us follow his thought
through, wherever it leads, and try to make sense of it. After all, Aristotle is
advancing a science that, by his own principles, ought not to existwe should
expect some unusual and subtle moves. His claim that the principles and
highest causes belong to some nature, being, seems absurd when we interpret
nature or being as a generic character possessed by all beings. Let us, then,
not interpret these terms until we have followed the sequence of his reasoning.
. Owens, Doctrine of Being,261, thinks that Aristotles concern in the quoted passage is with the causes belonging per se rather than accidentally, and this view
is consonant with the sentence that follows (quoted next in my text). However,
because every science studies only what is per se, it would be unnecessary for
Aristotle to say that his concern is per se causes. As I understand this passage,
Aristotles emphasis is on the fact that the causes belong to some nature, rather
than the way they belong to that nature. Owens thinks that this fact is already
asserted when Aristotle identifies being qua being as the subject of metaphysics
because he takes this phrase to refer to ousia. My interpretation of 1 by means
of the account of the sciences in the Posterior Analytics draws heavily on Owens
discussion (pp. 25964). However, I think that 1 refines our understanding of
metaphysics without specifying or assuming a determinate content for its subject,
being qua being. Indeed, it is part of Aristotles procedure for determining that
content. Viewed retrospectively, 1 must be read as Owens does, but this reading
prevents us from reading the chapter as part of an inquiry into being.
295
We know that each Aristotelian science treats a nature, the nature of some
genus. If metaphysics is a science, it too must treat some nature. Apparently,
Aristotle calls this nature being or being qua being. In a passage from
the Posterior Analytics that I mentioned often in discussing book B, Aristotle
maintains that a science treats a genus and what belongs to it per se (A 28,
87a3839). Elsewhere in the Posterior Analytics, he describes three components
of a demonstrative science: (1) the conclusion asserting that something, such
as an attribute, belongs to a genus per se, (2) the axiom or premise, and (3) the
subject genus whose per se attributes the science demonstrates (A 7, 75a39b2).
If metaphysics resembles other Aristotelian sciences, it too should study some
generic nature and what belongs to that nature per se. This appears to be just
what Aristotle intends to say in the opening sentence of , there is a science
that studies being qua being and what belongs to it per se. The nature to which
Aristotle refers in 1 should be the nature of being, the subject matter of this
science. Since each science aims to demonstrate what belongs to its subject
matter, and since our science aims to find the highest causes and principles,
these latter should belong to the nature of being. This is not to say that they
are attributes in the usual sense, for Aristotle recognizes that principles can
also be ascribed to a nature; for example, the genus that is included in a
subjects essential nature is said of that subject per se (cf. Posterior Analytics
A4, 73a34b1). Since our science seeks the highest causes and principles,
and since this science, presumably, resembles other Aristotelian sciences, it is
indeed clear that these causes and principles must belong per se to some nature;
that is, they must be the causes and principles of that natureprecisely as
Aristotle claims in the passage under considerationprovided, of course, that
metaphysics exists. The point is that, like other sciences, metaphysics seeks
causes that somehow belong to the generic nature that is its subject.
This same conception of metaphysics also seems to be implicit in Aristotles
claim, earlier in 1, that other sciences, such as mathematics, cut off a
part of metaphysics subject matter and study its attributes. We know that
quantity is the subject of mathematics. In what sense is quantity a part of
. Aristotles first type of per se is what belongs in the (Posterior Analytics
A 4, 73a3437); it would presumably include the causes and principles like the
genus. His second type (73a37b1) consists of per se attributes. As examples of
the first per se, he mentions the way lines belong to triangles and points belong to
lines. Lines are elements of triangles. But the latter example is surprising because
Aristotle does not think that lines are composed of points. He may be offering a
popularly recognized example without endorsing it; cf. W. D. Ross, Aristotles Prior
and Posterior Analytics (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1965),519. However, I think it
more likely that he includes lines and points because they belong to the definitions
of triangles and lines: a line, for example, is a magnitude between two points.
296
metaphysics subject matter? Aristotle discusses various sorts of parts and

wholes in 25 and 26, but the only types that could apply to the subject matters of mathematics and metaphysics are species and genera (25, 1023b1719;
26, 1023b2932). The idea that specific sciences are embedded within generic
sciences is familiar from the Posterior Analytics (e.g., A 45, 73b3274b4). Again,
Aristotle is taking the subject matter of metaphysics to be some sort of genus
and claiming that metaphysics seeks to know its generic nature and what
belongs to that nature per se, including its causes and attributes.10
All this is very strange, yet entirely familiar. On one hand, 1 makes good
sense if Aristotle is applying his standard picture of scientific inquiry to an
inquiry into being. On the other, there is good reason to doubt that that picture
applies to metaphysics because being is not a genus and cannot, therefore,
have a generic nature. How can Aristotle now assume that all beings share
a generic nature that falls under one science when it was just the apparent
impossibility of including within one science all beings and all the topics that
ought to fall under metaphysics that generated the first group of aporiai? Since
Aristotle has not yet resolved the aporiai, 1 must be construed hypothetically:
if there is a science that studies being qua being and what belongs to it per se,
then such a science would treat a nature, and the first causes would belong
to that nature per se. This is just the way that all Aristotelian sciences work.
Still to be shown is that a science can indeed study this subject matter. This
Aristotle takes up in the next chapter.
The similarity of the science that studies being qua being to other
Aristotelian sciences raises the question whether it is demonstrative.
Alexander thinks it is;11 so, apparently, does Thomas Aquinas.12 The description of the science contained in 1 does not rule out its being demonstrative,
but neither does it imply that it is. Showing that causes belong to some nature
per se would be a demonstration only if we knew the nature in advance and
if the causes were attributes. If, though, the causes are per se because they
are or are part of the naturethe Posterior Analytics first type of per sethen
they are not demonstrated as attributes. Rather, finding a natures causes
would require finding the nature itself. In the second book of the Posterior
Analytics, Aristotle describes inquiry as a search for the cause or middle
term (B 23, 89b3690a36; esp. 90a57), and he identifies this latter with the
definitions that serve as premises of demonstrations (3, 90b2431). Some
scholars suppose that Aristotle thinks scientific inquiry ought to deduce new
10. That Aristotle sometimes regards being as a genus has been recognized by Kirwan,
Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,82; see his remark on 1003b19.
11. Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria,237.69.
12. Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle,IV. L.1:C 529.
297
attributes,13 but he actually describes scientific inquiry as finding the causes

that would make demonstration possible. That is to say, Aristotelian inquiry
paradigmatically begins with the conclusion and seeks the middle term, the
essence, through which it is demonstrated. Despite the formal structure of
the demonstration, Aristotle aims to prove that some character is a nature
by showing that a genus attributes follow from it. We will see repeatedly
in this chapter that he deploys this standard procedure throughout and
that this requires us to reverse our normal reading of arguments. Just as an
inquiry into an animal genus would begin from its sensible characteristics and
seek the nature or essence in respect of which these sensible characteristics
belong to the genus, an inquiry into being might be expected to seek, as the
cause of all beings, some essence or nature in respect of which whatever
belongs to all beings belongs per se; and it is this nature that really needs
to be proven. But the case of being is unlike that of animal because there
is no genus nor any nature common to all beings. Hence, the existence of
metaphysics is in question in a way the existence of zoology is not. Even if
the former science does exist and there is some cause of all beingsas, of
course, Aristotle thinksdemonstrations of attributes common to all beings
would still be impossible because the cause is not a nature that belongs to all
beings in the way that an animal nature belongs to all instances of its genus.14
Indeed, how could there be attributes of the class of beings if an attribute
cannot be an instance of the class of which it is an attribute? Nothing falls
outside the class of beings.
Perhaps the most striking feature of 1 is how indeterminate its assertions
about the science of metaphysics are. Just what is the nature sought by this science? What belongs to it per se? What does Aristotle mean by studying being
qua being? All this remains open. The chapter merely derives consequences
from assimilating metaphysics to the model of the other Aristotelian sciences. It
remains for Aristotle to show whether and to what extent this model applies.
The second chapter of book begins with the blunt assertion of the wellknown doctrine that being is pros hen ( ). The chapters opening lines
13. Jonathan Barnes, Aristotles Posterior Analytics, Clarendon Aristotle Series (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1975),xi.
14. Terence H. Irwin, Aristotles Discovery of Metaphysics,21322, argues that
metaphysics is not demonstrative but relies instead on dialectic. As noted, he
thinks that Aristotle discovered metaphysics when he revised the requirements
for a science. In 1, though, Aristotle speaks of metaphysics much in the way that
he speaks of his other sciences, a point that I do not think Irwin can explain.
298
do not claim that Aristotle advances this doctrine to justify or to explicate

the characterization of metaphysics sketched in 1, as I think he does.
They assert:
Being is said in many ways, but related to one (pros hen), that is, to
some one nature, and not equivocally (1003a3334).
The text goes on to compare being to healthy and to medicalevery
healthy thing is related to health (1003a34b1), and every medical thing is
related to medicine (1003b14). Like these, every being is related to a single principle or nature (1003b56); and, as is clear from the description in 1003b610,
this nature is ousia. But Aristotle does not explain ousia here, and I suggest
that we leave the meaning of this important term open for now. Since each
being is related . . . to one nature, that is, to ousia, and since he includes
ousiai among beings (1003b6), he evidently counts being an ousia as having a
relation to ousia. It is clear, too, that although he describes the way the word
being is used, Aristotle is explaining a relation between things. Recalling
my discussion of the ways terms are said (2.1), we would expect a definition
in respect of which a thing is called a being, but we find only a list of the
different ways things are related to ousia.
After characterizing these relations to ousia, Aristotle reasons:
Accordingly, just as there is one science of all healthy things, this also
holds in the same way in the other cases. For it falls to one science to
investigate not only what is said in respect of one nature (kath hen), but
also what is said in relation to one nature (pros hen); for in a way these
latter are also said in respect of one nature (kath hen). Hence, it is clear
that beings are investigated by one science insofar as they are beings
[=qua beings]. And knowledge is always properly of what is primary,
that on which the others depend and through which they are said. If this
is ousia, then it is necessary for the philosopher to have the principles
and causes of ousiai (1003b1119).
These lines connect the pros hen doctrine with the description of metaphysics
that we saw in 1 and with the requirements for a science implicit in bookB.
How does Aristotle make this connection?
The first conclusion of the quoted passage is that any pros hen can be treated
by a single science, and Aristotle supports it with the example of a particular
pros hen, healthy. Presumably, we are to understand that what is healthy is
the subject matter of the science of medicine. That is to say, a doctor ought to
know not merely what health is, but also the signs of health, how to preserve
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health, how to produce it, and so forth. In short, medicine includes in its subject matter not only health, but everything related to health, everything that
is healthy. Aristotle infers from healthys being a pros hen that is treated by
one science that any pros hen can be treated by one science.
It is intriguing that not only is the subject matter of medicine a pros hen,
but medicine itself is or, rather, belongs to a pros hen; for medicine is the hen
to which whatever is medical is related. Thus, the doctor, his action, and his
instruments are all termed medical through their relation to the science
(1003a34b3). We might suppose that, in mentioning both here, Aristotle intends
to draw a parallel such as the following: just as medicine is (narrowly) the science of health, the medical concerns (broadly) the healthy.15 Thus, the doctor
would be medical because she makes a patient healthy. More likely, though,
one pros hen is embedded in the other: medicine has a pros hen, healthy, as its
subject matter, and it is, in turn the primary instance of a broader pros hen,
medical. So medical includes whatever has a double relation to health. But
this relation plays no role in the argument for a pros hens being the subject
of one science.
The quoted text justifies this last conclusion by declaring a pros hen to be a
kind of kath hen (1003b1415). The reasoning is that since a kath hen is obviously treated by one science, and a pros hen is a kind of kath hen, a pros hen is
also treated by one science. What is a kath hen, and why is it treated by one
science? In the two other places of the Metaphysics where the phrase occurs,
it signifies univocal and stands in contrast with equivocal (Z 4, 1030b23; K3,
1060b3233). One of these is a passage, from book K, that is also interesting
because it ties together the existence of metaphysics and the pros hen character
of being:
Since the science of the philosopher is of being qua being universally and
not of a part of it, and being is said in many ways and not the sort that
is said in respect of ones (kath hena), it follows that if it is said equivocally
and not in respect of (kata) anything common, then it is not treated by
one sciencefor there is not one genus of such thingsbut if being is
said in respect of something common, then there would be knowledge
by one science. It is likely, then, that the term in question will be said in
the [same] way as medical and healthy (3, 1060b3137).
15. Aristotle often uses medicine as an example. In the Physics he compares nature to
a doctor doctoring himself (B 8, 199b3032). Along this line, Aristotles comparison
of being to medical and healthy recalls his distinction of an active and a passive
sense of being, that is, actuality and potentiality. However intriguing it may be,
this connection is not expressed in our text.
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Let us, for the moment, avoid comparing this passage with what we find in
12, and focus instead on Aristotles claim that beings would not be treated
by one science if being were equivocal because there is no genus of things
named equivocally, but that there would be one science if being were the
sort said in respect of ones. It is clear that what is called by a term in respect
of one (kath hen) belongs to one genus, and it falls to one science because one
science knows one genus.16 The one here is the generic nature common to
each thing in the genus. Although being is not a genus, neither is it equivocal.
It is something in between: being is said in respect of something common
and, like healthy, is known by one science.
The doctrine that things that are said univocally or kath hen belong to the same
genus can also be inferred from Aristotles examples in Categories 1: man and
ox are called animal univocally, whereas man and statue are called animal
equivocally because the former pair, but not the latter, are called animal in
respect () of a single nature, the being of the animal ( 1a612).
This is the nature of the genus animal. In general, some such generic nature
is the one common nature in respect of which things are univocally named.
Hence, whatever is kath hen belongs to a single genus. Thus, man and oxbut
not man and a picture of a manbelong to the genus treated by the science of
zoology. Aristotle enunciates the principle that one science knows one genus
in 2 just after the passage now under consideration (1003b1920).
From all this, it is clear that our passage, 1003b1214, presumes that a kath
hen falls under a single science because it is a genus. If a kath hen is a genus,
then to say that a pros hen is a kind of kath hen (1003b1415) is to say that a
pros hen is a kind of genus. Hence, a pros hen falls under one science because
one science treats one genus, and the pros hen is a kind of genus.
Just what kind of genus is a pros hen? It is not strictly kath hen, nor is it called
genus in any of the ways set out in 28 (1024a29b9). A pros hen must be a
genus in some secondary way, a quasi-genus. I shall refer to a pros hen genus
and contrast it with the proper kath hen genus. 1003b1114 does not explain
the sense in which a pros hen is a kath hen, and we must return to this question
later. The only reason Aristotle gives that a pros hen is a kind of kath hen is that
a pros hen like healthy falls under one science. Given that he assumes that one
science treats one genus, healthy must be a genus of some sort. In other words,
since Aristotle can maintain his assumption about the character of a sciences
subject matter by taking pros hen as a genus, it must be some sort of genus.
16. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics,1:256, identifies, without comment, what is univocal
with the genus. Although the authenticity of book K is sometimes questioned (see
note 31 of this chapter), we find the same doctrine in the Categories, as I explain in
the text. A species is also said univocally; if being were somehow a single species,
it would still fall to one science in accordance with the principle that one science
treats one genus.
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With this analysis, we can understand Aristotles first argument in 2.

The chapter opens with the assertion that (1) being is a pros hen (1003a3334).
Similarly, (2) healthy is pros hen (1003a35b1). But (3) healthy is the subject of
a single science, medicine (1003b11), and (4) each pros hen is alike in its unity
(cf.1003b1415). (5) To be the subject of a science a class requires a sufficient
degree of unity. Hence, (6) there is one science of each pros hen (1003b12).
Therefore (from [1] and [6]), (7) there is one science of being (1003b1516).
The only possible difficulty in recognizing that this is Aristotles argument
is that his own statement of its conclusion is not (7) but: Hence, it is clear
that beings are investigated by one science insofar as they are beings [= qua
beings] (1003b1516). The argument supports including every being in the
science, but what does the addition of qua beings mean? It might be supposed that beings . . . qua beings are ousiai, particularly as Aristotle goes
on to stress the importance of knowing ousiai and their causes (1003b1619).
But the reason that metaphysics needs to know ousia is that it is the primary
nature upon which the others depend, the hen to which the others are related.
Aristotle needs an argument for including all of being, the entire pros hen,
within one science before he can stress the importance of knowing its primary
nature; and that is his aim in the present passage, 1003a33b16. So here, at
least, qua beings cannot limit the scope of beings, and qua beings must
signal a way of knowing beings.
Aristotles insistence at 1003b1619, immediately after this argument, on the
importance of knowing what is first, namely, ousia, and on the philosophers
knowing the principles and causes of ousiai fills in something that was
missing in 1: here he makes clear that the nature (phusis) to which 1
had insisted the principles and highest causes belong per se (1003a2628) is
ousia, the primary nature to which all beings are related (1003a34; 1003b14).
If being were a proper genus, the nature studied by the science of it would be
the generic nature common to each instance of this genus, the hen of a kath
hen. Since being is pros hen, the nature to be studied is the primary nature,
the hen of the pros hen; for science is always chiefly of what is primary [=the
nature], that on which the others depend and through which they are said
(1003b1617), and the causes and principles of this nature are the causes and
principles of all beings. Again, the quasi-generic nature of being turns out to
be ousia, not a nature that all beings share in common but a nature to which
all are related. Compare the concluding sentence of 1 with the last sentence
in the passage under discussion:
Therefore, it is also necessary for us to grasp the first causes of being
qua being (1003a3132).
In all cases, science is properly of what is primary, that on which the
others depend and through which they are said. If this is ousia, it would
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be necessary that the philosopher have the principles and causes of ousiai
(1003b1619).
Clearly, the causes of being qua being mentioned in the first passage are the
causes of ousiai in the second.
Can we, then, infer that being qua being means ousia? Yes, but the identification is virtually contentless because ousia has not been specified. In a
work that explores the diverse ways things are called ousia and in which
the determination of ousia is a central issue, we would be rash to suppose it
clear here.17 Most readers assume that this passage must be referring to the
categorial genus of ousia. The Metaphysics central books explore this type of
ousia, but Aristotle does not make this identification in , nor is it justified by
what is said here. Rather, just as Aristotle uses being qua being to refer to
the nature of being in 1, he uses ousia to refer to the nature to which all
beings are related in 2. He is talking about the same nature in both passages, but it is not clear what this nature is. All we know about ousia is that it
is the nature metaphysics studies chiefly, the nature to which the principles
and highest causes belong, and the nature to which all beings are related.
Insofar as all other beings depend upon ousia, it is their principle (1003b56),
and its own principles and causes are the principles and causes of all beings.
Hence, metaphysics must seek the causes of ousia, and the science of a pros
hen genus is like a science of a kath hen genus insofar as it seeks the causes
of some nature18
Pros hen is not usually understood to be a generic notion. Thomas Aquinas,
for example, speaks of being as a pros hen analogy.19 This expression does
not occur in the Aristotelian corpus, but, as I proposed earlier (2.4), Aquinas
has in mind the ordered series of ones Aristotle sets up in 6: one in number,
one in species, one in genus, and one by analogy (1016b3132). The order is
ascending: what is one in genus is also one by analogy but what is one by
analogy need not be one in genus. Since Aristotle argues that being is not a
genus, it is reasonable to locate it in the next higher portion of the qualitative
series, analogy (2.4). Were beings one by analogy in this way, though, they
would all stand in the same relation. Instead, other beings are related to ousia
17. Aristotle explores the ways ousia is said in 8. Of the types he sets out there,
ousia in 1003b1619 may refer to a substrate (1017b2326), but that would not
explain which substrate it is.
18. No one has explained the pros hen character of being and its significance for
metaphysics as well as Owens, Doctrine of Being,26467. Although I accept much
of his account, I try to show here that Aristotle argues for these views by means
of unity arguments.
19. Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle,V L.8:C 879.
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in different ways. To insist that being is, nonetheless, analogical, Aquinas needs
to invent a different kind of analogy; hence, pros hen analogy.
Apart from the difficulties of expanding Aristotles usage, there is good
reason to be skeptical of Aquinas innovation. We have seen that the problem
of the first four aporiai is how a science of metaphysics is possible, and this
is tantamount to the question of how all beings and all the other topics that
ought to be treated by a single science can fall under one science. If being is
a pros hen analogy, there is no reason to think that it can fall under one science; for analogies are accidents (N 6, 1093b1718), and there is no science of
accidents (E 2, 1027a2628). Again, since an analogy is generally broader than
a genus, and since there is one science of a genus, there would not typically
be one science of an analogy.20
Conversely, the reason that pros hen must be a generic notion is that only
as such can it account for the possibility of including all beings in a single
science. Even in the absence of Aristotles claim in 1003b1215 that a pros hen
is a kind of genus, we would have to call it a genus because immediately after
saying that one science studies beings qua beings (1003b1516), 2 repeats
the assumption that one science treats one genus (1003b1920). On the most
straightforward reading, these passages take being as a genus of some sort,
and a similar reading gives a good sense to the otherwise troubling claim
in 1003b2021a text about which I shall say more laterthat the science of
being qua being is one in genus.
That being is a genus, albeit in some extended sense of genus, raises the
possibility that other universals that extend beyond categorial genera might
also be genera in the same extended sense. However, the present text does not
extend its conclusion beyond being. In particular, Aristotle does not argue here
that one is also pros hen although he does not exclude this possibility either.
His argument for including all beings in one science turns on the way that
all beings are one, not on the character of the one.
Thus far, my analysis of book has been straightforward. I have discussed
arguments that are clearly Aristotles. The remainder of this subsection will
relate these arguments to the first aporia and to what I have termed Aristotles
aporetic argumentation. The meaning of being qua being is not presupposed
by this analysis but becomes clearer through it.
20. Ethics would be a science of an analogy if it were a science of the good (cf. N.E.
A 6, 1096a2329, cf. b2529), but it is rather the science of the human good (7,
1098a1617). Physics would be a science of an analogy if it were the science of
motion because motion differs in each genus (Phys. 1, 200b32201a3), but it
is rather the science of nature (200b1215). In both of these sciences, however,
Aristotle explores analogical features, as he does in zoology. In the third volume
of this study, we will see that something similar holds of metaphysics.
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While the text now under consideration does not mention the aporiai, its
references to the causes recall the first aporia. There the problem was how to
include all four causes in one science even though they do not belong to one
genus. Aristotles understanding of the subject matter of metaphysics as a
pros hen genus resolves this problem. As we saw in the last chapter, if all four
causes belonged to a kath hen genus, they would all belong to each instance
of that genus. For them all to belong to a pros hen genus, each need only be
related in some way to the primary instance, ousia. As counter examples to
including all causes in one science, book B mentions that for unchangeable
things, such as mathematical entities, there are no efficient or final causes: if
mathematical entities are included in the subject matter of metaphysics, not
all causes would belong to all instances of the subject matter. Since 1 makes
a point of mentioning that the objects treated by mathematics constitute a
part of the subject matter of metaphysics (1003a2326), Aristotle must think
he has surmounted Bs objection to including mathematicals in metaphysics.
Just how to understand the objects of mathematics as part of metaphysics
becomes clear later, but we need not resolve this issue to see how Aristotle
has dissolved the first aporia. The key claim here is that the philosopher must
grasp the principles and causes of ousiai (1003b1719). As we saw, because all
else depends on ousia, in knowing its causes, the philosopher knows the causes
of all beings. These causes need not belong to every ousia. Just as medicine is
a cause of health, but only for sick people who can benefit from it, so, too, a
cause of some ousiai need not be a cause of others. Whereas sensible instances
of the categorial genus of ousia have all four causes (Phys. B 7, 198a2225; cf.
Met. 4 1070b1624), non-sensible ousiai such as the unmoved movers have
neither material nor efficient causes. If mathematicals are ousiai, their formal causes are their own essences; if they are related to ousiai, their formal
causes lie in the ousiai to which they are related. In either case, the causes of
mathematicals fall under metaphysics even though mathematicals also have
no efficient causes. Aristotle does not tell us what the causes of ousiai are, but
he does not have to. His description of being as a pros hen dissolves the first
aporia by showing how a science could include all the causes without each
causes belonging to each instance of its subject genus.
Since all beings fall within the scope of metaphysics, all ousiai and all their
attributes must also be included in the science. But this conclusion does not
resolve the third and fourth aporiai: we already know that all the topics included
in the first set of aporiai must fall to metaphysics. The issue, as we saw, is how
they can do so without generating absurd consequences, and this remains to
be resolved. A bit later in Metaphysics , Aristotle claims that there are prior
and posterior ousiai (1004a29). Just as the causes of ousia are the causes of
being, the causes of the prior ousiai will also be causes of posterior ousiai as
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well as the causes of all beings, whereas there will be causes of posterior ousiai
that are not causes of prior ousiai. But Aristotle does not need to decide on the
structure of ousiai to include all four causes in the science that treats all beings.
All he needs is either that there is some one ousia to which all the causes belong
or that each type of cause belong to some ousiai; included under the second
alternative is the case where some ousiai are themselves causes in each of the
four ways.21 Aristotle does not decide which it is yet. He shows only that there
is a broader sense of genus that can include all beings and all four causes.
Since all four causes can belong to the pros hen genus of being, they can all fall
under the one science that studies it. There is nothing else here to show that
the causes, in fact, do fall under one science or that being is pros hen.
Initially, it may seem that Aristotle resolves the first aporia by arguing for
one horn of the dilemma, the one science alternative. But the resolution really
depends on altering the assumption that helps to generate both sides of the
aporia, the assumption that one science treats one genus. The alteration consists
in recognizing a broader type of genus that can also be treated by a single
science. The assumption that one science treats one genus remains true, but
in including the pros hen under genus, Aristotle transforms its meaning.
Even with this transformation, Aristotle is assuming that being is pros hen
and that the causes of ousiai somehow include all four kinds. We would have
expected independent argument for each. The former, the pros hen character
of being, particularly needs justification, yet Aristotle supplies only a brief
description of the ways things are related to ousia (1003b510). Without an
adequate justification for the doctrines upon which resolution of the first
aporia rests, that resolution is merely possible. How does Aristotle show that
the resolution of the aporia is not simply possible but actually, indeed, necessarily the case?
A passage from book comes to mind:
Since it is possible in this way, and if it were not in this way, then things
will be from night and all alike and from not-being, let these [aporiai]
be solved... (7, 1072a1920).
21. Picking up a proposal of Cajetan, Shields, Order in Multiplicity: Homonymy in
the Philosophy of Aristotle,11027, argues that the core instance of a pros hen is
a cause of each derived instance in one of Aristotles four causal relations (the
last alternative in my text). His argument turns on Aristotles examples of how
medical and healthy are each pros hen. On the other hand, Shields argues at length
(pp. 217267) that Aristotle did not defend his claim that being is pros hen and
that those who have attempted to do so on his behalf have been unsuccessful.
Shields thinks the doctrine false because he understands it as asserting degrees
of existence. He does not consider the aporetic argument I propose here.
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A remarkable passage. Faced with two unsatisfactory alternatives, alternatives

that are each internally inconsistent and incompatible with each other, we
are forced to endorse the only possible resolution. Likewise, if the doctrine
that being is pros hen offers the only possible resolution of an aporia, it must
be right. Aristotle does not argue that this is the only possible resolution, but
it modifies the assumption that has a hand in both sides of the first aporia by
expanding what can be included in the subject matter of a science. It is clear
that this or something like it is the only possible resolution given the constraint of preserving assumptions that do not play a role in generating both
sides of the aporia.
If, then, the pros hen doctrine is necessary to resolve the aporia, Aristotle
is implicitly making a case for it. To be sure, Aristotle introduces it without
explicit argument and with little explanation. It is odd, though, that he would
not make a case for a doctrine that is so central to his metaphysics and, yet, so
controversial. Indeed, we just saw that he uses it in his argument as a premise to
conclude first that all beings fall under one science and then that all the causes
do as well. Because these conclusions are requisite for metaphysics and because
there are solid grounds for thinking that there is a metaphysics, the conclusion of
Aristotles argument is more obvious and less in need of demonstration than the
assumption that being is pros hen from which it is ostensibly derived. I propose
that the real force of the first argument in 2 is not its apparent conclusion, but
the doctrine that being is pros hen. As noted earlier, all scientific inquiry aims
to find the middle term, the term from which the syllogisms conclusion can
be derived, and it proves that term by deriving the conclusion. Here Aristotle
is showing that being is pros hen by deriving from it the conclusion, known in
advance, that all causes belong to metaphysics.
Readers have not missed the fact that the pros hen doctrine is central in this
passage. What they have tended to overlook is its role as a premise in Aristotles
argument. We need only to recall his standard method of scientific inquiry
to understand where the force of his argument really lies.
We arrive at the same understanding by considering the passage in the context of the aporia it resolves. The first aporia obstructs thought because there are
seemingly sound arguments for both sides: there should be a first science that
studies all causes, but such a science seems impossible. The aporia is a contradiction that cannot go unresolved. The pros hen doctrine breaks the bond of this
aporia. This bond is the assumption that generates both sides of the aporia, the
assumption that one science treats one genus. Aristotle continues to endorse this
assumption, but he reinterprets it to allow one science of a pros hen genus and
then identifies being as such a genus. Insofar as this latter doctrine enables us
to avoid the first aporia and is the only path out of the aporia, and insofar as this
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aporia is a contradiction that must somehow be resolved, the pros hen doctrine
of being must be correct. So understood, the opening lines of 2 contain what
I call an aporetic argument: that being is pros hen is established by showing
that it resolves an otherwise insoluble aporia.
Interestingly, the parallel passage in book K (3, 1060b3137, quoted earlier)
presents the argument I think is implicit in , for book K reverses the roles that
2 assigns to premise and conclusion. It makes the pros hen doctrine of being
the conclusion. It reasons that since the knowledge of being falls to one science
and since it can do so if being is pros hen, being must be pros hen. Aristotles
doctrine is the same in both texts, but the formulation in book K is directed
toward showing the nature of being. Too many questions have been raised
about the authenticity of book K to rely on it. Nevertheless, what Aristotle
really needs to argue is that being is pros hen, and he does so in K3. Hence,
whatever its authorship, book K makes explicit the argument that readers of
the first argument of 2 must understand to be implicit.
To summarize, the argument discussed in the present section aims ostensibly to prove that there is a science that studies being qua being and all four
types of causes. It does so by arguing that since being is pros hen, it belongs
to one science to investigate all beings qua beings. Since, however, there are
independent grounds for supposing that metaphysics exists but none for
endorsing the claim that being is pros hen, it is the latter claim that should be
the real conclusion of the argument. My contention is that Aristotle indirectly
supports this claim by showing that itand it aloneresolves the first aporia.
Ironically, on the reading I am proposing, the ostensible conclusion in the opening sentence of , that there is a science of being qua being and what belongs
to it per se, turns out to be the real premise that most readers suppose it to be,
albeit for different reasons. There must, for the reasons sketched earlier, be a
metaphysics, and the pros hen doctrine shows how it can be.
5.2 Being qua Being

The phrase being qua being appears often in 1 and the first argument of
2, but we have been able to make sense of these arguments without interpreting this phrase. I do not think this is accidental, and this section proposes
that, paradoxically, its role in the opening of book is best understood by not
interpreting it. In any case, we must consider this controversial phrase because
Aristotle has, as it were, introduced a second characterization of the subject
matter of metaphysics. Not only is it (a) being qua being and what belongs to
it per se, but also (b) being, a pros hen genus. Are these the same?
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What does Aristotle mean by being qua being? Two alternatives have been
proposed: being and ousia.22 Cases can be made for both. In support of being
is Aristotles claim that (1) other sciences, such as mathematics, cut off a part
of the subject matter of metaphysics (1003a2326); for the object of mathematics, quantity, is a part of being but not a part of ousia, as the latter is usually
understood.23 Further, (2) identifying being qua being as being fits with the
sequence of thought in 12; for if, in using this phrase, 1 refers to being,
then the discussion of being in 2 as a kind of genus is an appropriate sequel.
(3) Although one conclusion that follows from 2s first argument is that all
beings fall under one science, Aristotle states the conclusion as beings are
investigated by one science qua beings (1003b1516). He is clearly identifying
beings . . . qua beings with being.
On the other side, [1] since 1 speaks of a nature () to which the
principles and causes belong (1003a2728) and asserts the necessity of knowing the causes of being qua being (1003a3132), it seems that knowing being qua
being and knowing the nature must be the same. Moreover, this nature whose
causes we seek must be the nature to which all beings are related (1003a3334)
and through which the other beings are known (1003b1617), namely, ousia
(1003b510); for Aristotle insists that first philosophy know the principles and
22. Those who identify being qua being as being include: Auguste Mansion,
LObjet de la Science Philosophique Suprme daprs Aristote, Mtaphysique, E,
1, in Mlanges de Philosophie Greque Offerts Mgr. Dis par ses lves, ses Collgues,
et se Amis (Paris: J. Vrin, 1956),15657; Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics,1:251; Patzig,
Theology und Ontology; Aubenque, Le Problme de ltre chez Aristote,3536;
Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,77. On the other side are:
Asclepius, In Aristotelis Metaphysicorum Libros AZ Commentaria, ed. Michael
Hayduck, vol. 6, pt. 2 of Commentaria in Aristotelem Graeca, Prussian Academy
Edition (Berlin: George Reimer, 1888),225.1417; Schwegler, Die Metaphysik,3:
152; Natorp, Thema und Disposition,37; Owens, Doctrine of Being,267; Merlan,
From Platonism to Neoplatonism,160220, esp. 16162 [also on this issue: Philip
Merlan, und : Postskript zu einer Besprechung, Philosophische
Rundschau7 (1957):14853; and Philip Merlan, On the Terms Metaphysics
and Being qua Being, Monist52 (1968):17494]; and Reale, The Concept of First
Philosophy,14445.
23. Philip Merlan is the only commentator that I know of who notices this problem
and gives serious thought to it. He maintains that Aristotle wrote book during
an early Platonic period of his development, a time when he regarded quantities
as ousiai (Merlan, From Platonism to Neoplatonism,5960, 16970). One difficulty
with this approach is that besides the passages from book that Merlan cites,
there are others scattered throughout the corpus, in places that do not seem to
stem from the same developmental period, where Aristotle also treats quantities
as ousiai; for example, he regularly speaks of quantities as having attributes (e.g.,
An. Po. A 4, 73b2931; Cat. 9, 12a68), a mark of an ousia.
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causes of ousia (1003b1719).24 Further, [2] metaphysics is the science studying

being qua being and what belongs to it per se. What belongs . . . per se are
either attributes whose own definition includes that to which they belong or
characters that are themselves included in the definition (what it is) of that to
which they belong (see An. Po. A 4, 73a34b3). In either case, that to which they
belong can only be some sort of ousia. Since being is not this ousia, being qua
being must be ousia. Finally, [3] in book K, speaking of the attributes of being qua
being, Aristotle uses being qua being as if it were identical with ousia.25
It might be proposed that we can skirt this dilemma by identifying being
qua being with ousia, and identifying what belongs to it per se with all the
other categories. Then, all beings would come under metaphysics, even though
being qua being is more narrow in scope. However, this identification would
imply that the so-called accidental categories belong per se to ousia. How
could what is accidental be essential? Aristotle makes a point of denying that
white and musical belong to animal per se (An. Po. A 4, 73b35). If all other
categories belong per se to ousia, nothing would be accidental.
There is, in fact, a sense that emerges later in the Metaphysics in which
accidents could be said to belong to ousia per se, for Aristotle claims that the
category of ousia is included in the what it is of other categories (cf. Z 1,
1028a3436). He means to say not that the definition of white includes, say,
animal or some other individual ousia but that a really complete definition
of white would have to include its not existing apart from some ousia. In this
respect white and every other accidental category is a per se attribute of the
genus ousia (An. Po. A 4, 73a37b5). However, this move belongs to a later stage
of the Metaphysics when Aristotle is inquiring into the natures of categorial
beings, a stage that presupposes a conclusion that emerges in book , that they
all have essential natures. Here in , the issue is whether these beings can be
included in one science, and we saw that Aristotle includes them because, as
related to ousia, they belong to a pros hen genus. But insofar as this latter is the
subject genus of the science, its contents are not per se attributes.
What counts most decisively against identifying the essential attributes
of being qua being as the accidental categories is that, in the one passage
where Aristotle clearly mentions them, he speaks of prior, posterior, genus,
whole, and part (2, 1005a1318). It is clear that he means to include with them:
contrary, complete, one, being, same, and other (1005a1113). None of these
24. Owens, Doctrine of Being,265, refers to Aristotles account of being as pros hen
(1003a33b5) to maintain that ousia is the nature of being.
25. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,77, discusses arguments on
both sides, but he formulates the issue as the question of whether the qua being
clause limits the scope of the science that studies being. More on this formulation
shortly.
310
is an accidental category nor belongs exclusively to an accidental category.

They are transcategorial. Hence, the per se attributes studied by metaphysics
belong to all categories, not just ousia.
One further argument in support of interpreting being qua being as
being merits discussion, though, as I said earlier, it will not solve the problem. It has become popular to maintain that the issue of interpretation can be
settled merely on linguistic grounds because (4) qua being is an adverbial
expression indicating the way being is to be studied.26 Consider Christopher
Kirwans formulation:
To say, for example, that a doctor has visited a patient qua patient is not to
say anything about the nature of the patient, but of the visit; and where
no suitable verb is expressed, it is often possible to supply one . . . . [T]o
say that metaphysics studies that which is qua thing-that-is is not to say
anything about the nature of the things studied by metaphysics, but
about the nature of the study.27
Kirwan is likely right to say that qua being refers to the method of studying
being. Would this imply that the subject matter of the science is all beings? At
K 4, 1061b2830, Aristotle describes physics as studying the attributes and
principles of being qua being moved. Applying Kirwans analysis, we would
have to say that qua being moved refers to a method of studying all beings.
But physics does not treat all beings; it only treats those that move or cause
motion. Likewise, when Aristotle declares that the geometer studies man qua
body (M 3, 1078a2526), he means that geometry studies a particular attribute
of man, continuous solid shape. The geometer does have a special method of
studying man, but the method concerns only his quantitative attributes.
In short, physics and mathematics are disciplines that Aristotle also characterizes with qua locutions, and these locutions do indicate methods, but
they still limit the extension of the disciplines subject matters. The reason is
easy to see. Even though the physicist does study all beings insofar as they
move, she cannot know, in this way, mathematicals and other things that
do not move. Because any method of study involves treating certain sorts of
beings in particular ways, to specify a method is to limit its subject. Thus,
Aristotle can say that the geometer studies all beings to the extent that they
have geometrical properties, but what this really means is that the geometer
studies geometrical properties of those things that have geometrical propertiesand not all things do. Aristotle holds a method to be proper to its subject
26. See note 2 of this chapter.
27. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,77.
311
matter (De Anima A 1, 402a1622), but it is not a contradiction for him to speak
of treating all beings qua solid or qua moving because the methods that
these qua phrases indicate do not apply beyond their proper subject matters,
namely, geometric solids and what moves. Strictly speaking, mathematics and
physics do not study the same subjects. Hence, that qua being indicates a
method does not exclude its restricting the subject matter.
Still, it might be said that qua being differs from qua motion and other
such phrases because being is general; so that while the other phrases do
restrict a subject, qua being does not. But this response begs the question: if
we do not know what method qua being is, we cannot tell whether it restricts
the subject, and the point of identifying it as an adverbial phrase is to help
determine what it means.
Let us consider Kirwans example more closely. He claims that if we already
know that someone is a patient, to say that the doctor visits him qua patient
tells us nothing new about him. The implication is that if the phrase indicated
the way a doctor visits a red-headed man, a dog, a Bostonian, or anything else,
it would tell us something new. Clearly, too, the man, dog, or Bostonian is a sort
of thing that could be visited qua patient, whereas a planet, a stone, or a house
is not; and the reason is that the former could have a particular property that
the latter do not admit, the property of being examined or treated for illness.
So, qua patient does indicate the presence of a property. Indeed, it is just
the act of visiting someone qua patient that makes him a patient: the act gives
him a new property.28 If, then, Kirwan thinks that qua patient cannot add
anything to someones description, he is mistaken. But, of course, Kirwan is
denying that qua patient would add anything to someone already known to
be a patient. He is right about this case, but it is not because the phrase carries
no ontological force. On the contrary, we only notice that it adds nothing new
because it does have ontological force.
Why, though, would Aristotle add qua being to being? What, in general,
is the function of X qua X phrases? The doctor who visits the patient qua
patient is not typically concerned with the patients skill at chess or fluency in
French. She is concerned only with those attributes that pertain to the patients
being a patient, namely the attributes of the patient insofar as he is, has been,
or might become ill. Jonathan Lear would say that patient qua patient filters
out predicates that do not apply to someone in virtue of his being a patient.29
28. Perhaps he becomes a patient when he makes the appointment and remains a
patient even after the doctor and his illness have departed. There is fuzziness in
usage that does not undermine the example.
29. Lear, Aristotles Philosophy of Mathematics,168. For more discussion of this
article see: Edward C. Halper, Being qua Being,5052.
312
But this characterizes only the negative side, what is excluded. I have been suggesting that qua patient indicates that the subject has an attribute, namely,
that he is or could become ill. Although being subject to illness is an essential
aspect of being human, the attributes of a patient as such do not belong to a
person insofar as he is a person; they are essential attributes of him as a patient
or, rather, essential attributes of the nature of patient (cf. A 1, 981a1012). Patient
qua patient indicates the nature in respect of which these attributes belong. We
find an exactly parallel locution in the Posterior Analytics: Aristotle speaks of
the essential attributes of a triangle as what belongs to a triangle qua triangle
(A 4, 73b2932). The qua locution here indicates that triangle is to be taken
as a subject and nature with essential attributes. We can learn something else
from this example: a triangle is not properly an ousia, but it can be treated as if
it were. Indeed, the Posterior Analytics examples of per se attributes are attributes
of mathematicals. To generalize, X qua X indicates the essential nature of X,
the nature in respect of which essential attributes belong to X, and it indicates
that X is something that can be treated as if it were an ousia.
When we try to apply this conclusion to the phrase being qua being,
we run into immediate problems. First, if X qua X refers to the nature of
X, then being qua being should be the nature of being. Second, if studying
someone qua patient involves considering characteristics it has in virtue of
his nature as a patient, then studying something qua being should involve
considering the characteristics it has in virtue of its nature as a being. Both
conclusions seem problematic: being has no common nature nor, consequently,
characteristics that belong to it in respect of its nature. On the other hand,
just as a triangle is not properly an ousia but is treated as if it were when it is
studied qua triangle, so, too, being would seem to be treated as if it were
an ousia when it is studied qua being. Evidently, to study being qua being is
possible if being is treated as if it were a nature, that is, as if it were an ousia.
Hence, the adverbial interpretation of qua being not only fails to support
identifying the subject of metaphysics as being, but apparently supports the
opposite conclusion, that the subject is ousia. If so, Kirwans argument should
count as not the fourth argument for being [4], but the fourth argument for
ousia (4). But it remains unclear how being can be treated as an ousia. Only
what is somehow an ousia can be studied as an ousia. We can conclude that
recognizing the methodological dimension of the qua locution does not
resolve the question of how to interpret qua being because this method of
studying being does have ontological import.
With this conclusion, we are left with the original dilemma. Like Aristotles
own aporiai, the question of the meaning of being qua being seems insoluble
because there are seemingly good arguments on both sides. Again, in favor of
identifying it as being are Aristotles clear indications that it includes quantity
313
and the fact that what belongs essentially to it are not the accidental categories
but transcategorial characters like one; in favor of identifying it as ousia are its
similarity to triangle qua triangle and Aristotles claim that it is ousia to which
the principles and causes investigated by metaphysics belong and ousia which
the metaphysician must investigate (1003b1619; 1003a2832). In my view, the
key to resolving this aporia is to see how it is possible to maintain both sides.
Let us reconsider Aristotles claims in 12. We saw that Aristotle implicitly
identifies the nature to which 1 claims the causes belong per se and the nature
to which 2 claims all beings are related, ousia, because the latter is also a nature
whose first causes metaphysics seeks. In general, every Aristotelian science is
concerned with some nature, the nature of the genus it studies, and with what
belongs per se to that nature. But in the case of the science that studies a pros
hen genus like being, the generic nature is not a single nature common to all (a
kath hen) but a single nature to which all are related (a pros hen). Since all beings
are related to ousia, the generic nature of being must be ousia.30 Metaphysics
has all beings within its scope and it seeks to know them through their nature,
but their nature is ousia. Again, the subject genus of metaphysics is the pros hen
genus of being, but to study this genus qua what it is, that is, to study being qua
being, is to study the nature through which beings are beings, that is, ousia. In
other words, because being is the subject matter of metaphysics, this science
must study ousia. My claim is that when Aristotle says that metaphysics studies being qua being he indicates both the quasi-genus that is studied, being,
and the nature of that genus, ousia. Analogously, to study animal qua animal
would be to study the genus of animal by examining its generic nature, the
capacity for sensation. What makes the case of being seem so different is the
widespread assumption that ousia here must be narrower than beingbecause
some beings are ousiai and some are related to itand, therefore, a different
object of study. But, again, this presumes, without justification, that ousia here
must be the categorial genus.
Some of the seeming paradox of my claim that being qua being is both
being and ousia is mitigated by introducing a Fregean distinction between
sense and reference. Scholars have typically sought the reference of being qua
being. At least as important for understanding Aristotles argument is its sense:
what concept does this phrase convey? We saw, using triangle qua triangle as
30. See Owens, Doctrine of Being,26971. Owens claims the general interpretation of
the Aristotelian doctrine as presented in this study is frankly accepted as the only
interpretation familiar to fifteen centuries of Greek tradition from book K down
to medieval times (p. xvii). My account of being here differs from Owenss in
several respects. He does not see it as a quasi-genus, he does not think Aristotle
argues for its pros hen character, and he does not see as a stage in an account
that is refined later in the Metaphysics.
314
a model, that being qua being signifies the nature or essence of being. That
is its sense. The reference of the phrase is that thing that actually has or is this
nature. The first argument of 2 identifies this reference as ousia but without
letting us know what ousia is. Thus, when Aristotle proclaims in 1 that there
is a science of being qua being, he must mean to say only that there is a science
that studies the nature of beingnot to characterize that nature. Being qua
being functions as what mathematicians call a placeholder. We are supposed
to understand the phrases sense without knowing what thing it refers to. Using
the phrase, Aristotle can signify a nature before he has determined what it is.
This is the reason that the phrase has little use outside of : once its reference
has been determined, it loses its utility. That Aristotle resorts to a placeholder is
indicative of the character of his argumentation in book . Like a detective, he
discovers some clues about metaphysics subject matter and works with them
to identify and characterize it fully. This work proceeds in stages.
The first stage is its identification as ousia in 2, but, again, ousia itself
remains to be determined. Not only is being qua being a placeholder, but
ousia, too, functions through much of book as a placeholder. It refers to
primary being, the nature to which other beings are related, without expressing
what that nature is. Aristotle is intent on determining this nature, and book
makes important progress toward this end, but it is not until the central books
that Aristotle gives it real content. Book Ks confident identification of being qua
being as the category of ousia may well reflect the results of the central books;
for in K Aristotle uses the phrase to refer to something that is the substrate for
other beings (3, 1061a810) and separate (7, 1064a2829), both characteristics
that the central books (see, especially, Z 1, 1028a2527, a3334)but not book
ascribe to ousia. Ironically, book Ks lack of ambiguity about being qua being
is one reason that it has seemed to scholars an untrustworthy summary of
and, accordingly, of dubious authenticity.31 Evidence that K relies on the results
of the central books bolsters the case for its authenticity, but it also limits the
possibility of using it to interpret the initial claims and argument of .
In particular, book Ks treatment of being qua being differs from s in this
important respect: it makes ousia narrower than being qua being, whereas
31. The book is rejected as inauthentic by, among others, Auguste Mansion,
Philosophie Premire, Philosophie Seconde,20921. More recent discussions
include those of Vianney Dcarie, LAuthenticit du Livre K de la Mtaphysique,
in Zweifelhaftes im Corpus Aristotelicum: Studien zu einigen Dubia: Akten des 9.
Symposium Aristotelicum (Berlin, 7.-16. September 1981), ed. Paul Moraux and
Jrgen Wiesner, vol. 14 of Peripatoi, (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1983),31844, and Pierre
Aubenque, Sur lInauthenticit du Livre K de la Mtaphysique, in Zweifelhaftes im
Corpus Aristotelicum: Studien zu einigen Dubia: Akten des 9. Symposium Aristotelicum
(Berlin, 7.-16. September 1981), ed. Paul Moraux and Jrgen Wiesner, vol. 14 of
Peripatoi, (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1983),31844, esp. 34344, arguing, respectively,
for and against the authenticity of K.
315
does not. Thus far, I have developed heuristically an interpretation of being

qua being that allows it to have two apparently inconsistent meanings. I shall
now use some of the same material to reformulate three textual arguments
in favor of this interpretation, arguments that show, at the same time, that
ousia does not refer to a portion of being.
The first turns on three parallels Aristotle draws later between being qua
being and some expressions for mathematicals. (1) He compares the subject
matters of metaphysics and of arithmetic: just as there are proper attributes
of number qua number, so too there are proper attributes of being qua being
( 2, 1004b1016). It is clear that arithmetic treats all numbers, and the attributes that belong to number qua number belong to each number, either each
attribute individually or one of a pair of contraries, such as odd and even.
According to the comparison, proper attributes of being qua being should be
attributes that belong, either individually or jointly, to each being. Further,
(2) attributes that belong to number qua number belong to number in respect
of the nature of number. Insofar as number has a nature, it has an ousia or
essence. Analogously, the attributes that belong to being qua being should
belong to it in respect of its essential nature or ousia. Further, (3) as a quantity,
number ought not to have attributes, for attributes belong properly only to
ousiai ( 4, 1007b25; An. Po. A 22, 83a36b17; cf. Cat. 5, 2a3435). Inasmuch
as attributes do, evidently, belong to number qua number, number must be
an ousia in some extended sense. Number qua number refers to this ousia;
it indicates that number is to be taken as an ousia by studying it through its
nature. This is, in fact, what the mathematician does when he studies numbers
as if they were separate (cf. M 3, 1078a1420). To carry through the analogy,
being ought not to have attributes or be a nature, but it too can be taken to
have a nature or an ousia. Being qua being should refer to this nature; it
should indicate that any being is to be treated as an ousia.
A second argument for my interpretation comes from the parallel that
Aristotle draws here between the science of being and the science of healthy
things. The latter knows things that are healthy only insofar as they are part
of the practice of medicine. Thus, it would not know a climate as it is in itself,
qua climatethis is the job of the meteorologistbut the climate qua healthy,
through its relation to the primary instance of healthy, health. To know a climate in this way is to know whether it is beneficial or detrimental to health in
general and to various physical conditions. Insofar as philosophy resembles
medicine, the philosopher can know each being; he knows it not in itself, but
through its relation to primary being, ousia.32 Just as the doctor knows climate
32. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,81, objects to the analogy
between medicine and metaphysics on the ground that the former decides
what is healthy while the latter leaves the question what exists? to many
316
insofar as it manifests health, the philosopher knows beings as they manifest

ousia. Again, that being is a pros hen genus explains how every being can be
known. An individual being is known as such through ousia in much the way
an individual animal is known through its generic nature, but to know each
being through ousia is to treat it as an ousia.
Third, the same conclusion follows from an examination of the words in
the expression being qua being. In the Posterior Analytics Aristotle identifies the phrase qua itself ( ) with per se ( ): what belongs to
something qua itself belongs to it per se, and vice versa (A 4, 73b2627).33 ,
too, contains evidence that Aristotle regards the phrases as identical: its first
chapter uses the phrases interchangeably when it maintains that principles
belong to a nature per se (1003a2728) and concludes from this that the elements belong to being not accidentally but qua being (1003a2931). (Again,
the nature to which the first passage refers is the nature of being.) Similarly,
as noted earlier, in the first sentence of , Aristotle describes the subject of
metaphysics as being qua being and what belongs to it per se (1003a2122),
whereas the final sentence of 2 describes the same subject as being qua being
and what belongs to it qua being (1005a1314). Besides passages where per
se characterizes a way of belonging to a nature, Aristotle uses per se by
itself to characterize a subject:
So it is necessary that per se is said in many ways. For one per se is
the essence of each thing; for example, Callias is per se Callias and the
essence of Callias (Met. 18, 1022a2527).
different specialists. In fact, Aristotle describes the kinds of things that exist at
1003b610, and he characterizes them more fully later, in the central books. But
this discussion is at a high degree of generality: Aristotle describes only types of
things that exist. Kirwans objection trades on an ambiguity. The metaphysician
can and does ask what exists? insofar as this question asks what is related
to ousia, and in this respect he resembles the doctor who wants to know what
climates are related to health. The metaphysician does not ask what exists?
insofar as this question asks whether ghosts, neurasthenia, or some other particular thing exists. The reason is not that metaphysics is unconcerned with
what exists, but that it operates at a much higher level of generality, whereas
particular sciences are concerned more narrowly with the existence of what
is related to their subjects. Indeed, if Aristotles comparison of metaphysics to
medicine is defective, it is not because metaphysics does not ask what exists?
but because metaphysics does ask this question even about the nature to which
beings are related, ultimately arguing for the existence of unmoved movers (E
1, 1025a818).
33. See Owens, Doctrine of Being,26061.
317
Further, what [is per se] is not said of some other substrate. Whereas
what walks is some thing that walks and is white, an ousia and whatever
signifies a this is not some other thing, but the very thing that it is. I call
what is not said of a substrate per se, and what is said of a substrate
accidental (An. Po. A 4, 73b510).34
If Callias per se refers to the essence of Callias, then being per se should
indicate the essence of being or being as a subject. Aristotle does not use the
expression being per se; but given the apparent identity of qua being with
per se in contexts of belonging, being per se should be identical to being
qua being. If the former signifies the essence of being, so should the latter.
Being would have an essence not as a particular like Callias does, but as a
genus does. Thus, being qua being would indicate the generic nature of
being, just as animal per se or the being of animal ( ) indicates
the nature of the genus of animal. This is not to deny that qua being indicates
a method of studying being as does per se, but to affirm that what is studied
in this way has a nature that allows it to be so studied. Pace Kirwan, being
qua being is as legitimate as Callias per se to indicate the object studied or
the essence that is qualified.
Talk of the essence of being sounds odd, but it is entirely consistent with
other Aristotelian locutions. In the second chapter (2.3), I discussed the essence
of one ( ); the same Greek phrase could also be rendered the being of
one (I 1, 1052b5; 2, 1054a18; cf. Z 6, 1031b9; 1032a2). We might expect Aristotle
to speak of the essence of being with the parallel phrase ; but he
uses this phrase in his discussions of Pythagoreanism and Platonic ideas (B4,
1001a12; Z 6, 1031a32, b9, b10),35 and he may avoid it in his own philosophy
because of this association. He could also have spoken of the essence of being
with his technical expression for essence, but this would be the awkward,
ambiguous and seemingly redundant phrase . Given the
alternatives, his choice of being qua being is not surprising. This phrase
allows Aristotle to speak about the essence of being without identifying that
essencea feature that is crucial for inquiry into that essence, but anathema
34. Cf. Ross, Aristotles Prior and Posterior Analytics,519. Barnes, Aristotles Posterior
Analytics,11518, maintains that the ontological claim expressed in this passage from the Posterior Analytics is founded on considerations of predication.
Ontology and predication are probably connected, but I do not see that Barnes
succeeds in showing that predication precedes ontology. On the contrary, in the
passages he cites, Aristotle uses his ontology to distinguish cases that are, in terms
of predication and syntax, identical: Callias is a man differs from Callias is
white ontologically even though their predicative forms are identical.
35. is understood in the sentences in Z 6 from the parallel Aristotle makes with
in lines 1031a32, 1031b8 and 1031b11.
318
for commentators trying to delineate Aristotles doctrine. If this is right, then

being qua being signifies the essence of being, each being has this essence
somehow, and the essence cannot be reduced to the category of ousia.
One difficulty this account must face is how to make sense of essential
attributes of being. If being is a genus, how can it have any per se attributes?
In general, the attributes of a genus cannot be among its instances, but every
attribute of being is also a being (as noted in 5.1.1). So a genus of being should
not have attributes. If it did somehow have per se attributes, then, because per se
attributes belong to every instance of a genus, an attribute of this genus would
be an attribute not only of other attributes, but also of itself. What would distinguish instances of being from its attributes? How could a particular being
that serves as an attribute belong to every being (cf. Topics 1, 121a1019)?
On the other hand, if, as book Bs fourth aporia reasons, metaphysics does
demonstrate the attributes of being, then it will be demonstrating instances
of this genus, that is, demonstrating ousiai (2, 997a3032).
We will see that Aristotles answer to this aporia, in arguments four-six of
2, shows how being can have attributes and disarms the other issues. Before
we can appreciate this answer, we need to see how the pros hen character of
being provides an essential clue. Just as the solution to the first aporia depends
on observing that in the pros hen genus of being not all causes need belong to
every being (5.2.1), so, too, not every attribute of a pros hen genus need belong
to every instance. Every number is either odd or even, but some of what is
healthy restores or cures, other healthy things prevent illness, and still other
healthy things have entirely different properties. Likewise, some beings have
some per se attributes and others different per se attributes, and it is generally
not the case that one of a pair of contrary per se attributes (e.g., odd/even)
must belong to any being. Just as the notion of a genus needs to be stretched
if being is to be a genus, the notion of generic attribute must also be loosened.
Furthermore, some attributes that belong to being qua being are elements of the
subjects nature rather than characters that belong to it (An. Po. 4, 73a3437).
Such attributes are elements and causes of ousiai and, thereby, causes of being;
but these attributes, like those of the other sort, need not belong to all beings
or all ousiai, nor need they cause being in the same way.36 The point is that
36. It is just at this point that I think the otherwise careful analysis of Shields, Order
in Multiplicity: Homonymy in the Philosophy of Aristotle,12425, goes astray. He
identifies what he calls the core homonym as the cause of the core-dependent
homonym. Although this identification seems commonsensical, there are different kinds of causes that belong to the core in different ways. Shields goes on
to argue that being is not a core-dependent homonym because exists means
the same when used in conjunction with each category (26667). He does not
consider what I think should have been key passages for him: Z 1, 1028a31b2;
4, 1030a21b3. The latter, in particular, claims that being belongs primarily to
319
beings pros hen character not only makes it a genus, but also makes it possible
for it to have essential attributes that do not belong to every instance.
Aristotle introduces the pros hen doctrine as a way to include all the
causes in one sciencenot as a way to narrow metaphysics scope. He is not
reducing the knowledge of all to knowledge of a primary part but using the
primary nature to know all beings and all their essential attributes. As yet,
this primary nature has not been identified as anything more than ousia, and
we might wonder whether Aristotles description of what is related to ousia
shows it to be anything more specific, such as the categorial genus of ousia.
Here is the passage:
For some are said to be beings because they are ousiai, others because they
are affections of ousiai, and others because they are ways into ousiai, or
corruptions, or privations, or qualities, or productive or generative of ousiai
or of what is said in relation to ousiai, or else denials of any of these or of
ousiai. Therefore, even what is not we say to be what is not (1003b610).
Although nothing here prevents ousiai from being in Aristotles first category
(what is neither present in nor said of a subjectCat. 5, 2a1113), only two of
the relations mentioned, affections and qualities, could refer to instances
of other categories that belong to ousiai. The other relations cut across categorial lines.37
What other beings are related to ousiai? Aristotle divides the ways being
is said in 7 into four schemata (see 2.1.3), one of which is the categories. To
(categorial) ousia and secondarily to the others. Even so, in my view the pros hen
doctrine is concerned with the existence of a genus, not the degrees of existence
of its instances. Shields is right to say that 1003b610 does not set out the relations
of ousia to other categories (21718); although those relations may be included,
they are not Aristotles main concern, as we will see.
Julie K. Ward, Aristotle on Homonymy: Dialectic and Science (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2008),13436, defends the core-dependent homonymy interpretation of both our 2 passage and Z 1. She takes ousia to be the
categorial genus and also understands these passages to be concerned with different ways of existing.
37. Brthlein, Die Transcendalienlehre,161, also notices that these relations to ousia do
not correspond to the categories. He maintains that Aristotle uses the relations
of healthy things to health as a paradigm for describing the relations of beings to
ousia. Further, with affections () in mind he writes of the relation between
ousia and other beings: Dieses Verhltnis wrde es erforderlich machen, das erste
Seiende, die , als einen konkreten, realen Einzelgegenstand anzusetzen. So
kann aber das erste Seiende hier nicht bestimmt sein (pp. 16263). He means
that ousias having affections is incompatible with its being transcendental, as he
thinks it must be. These are not the only alternatives for ousia. Genera, too, can
have affections (e.g., 2, 1004b56; E 1, 1025b12).
320
maintain that all beings are related to ousia, he must show not only that the
other categories are related to ousia, but also that all that is said to be in any of
the other waystruth and falsehood, actuality and potentiality, and accidental
beingsare also related to ousia. I suggest that 1003b610 mentions relations
that come under all four schemata in order to show that all beings can be
related to ousia. Thus, ways into ousia refers to actualizations of potentialities,
and corruptions to the loss of actualizations. Privation is a term that the
Physics uses for potentiality ( 1, 201a3ff.; cf. Met. 12, 1019a1924). What is
productive or generative of ousiai are actualities (e.g., Phys. 2, 202a1112).
What is said in relation to ousiai, or else denials of any of these or of ousiai
must refer to truth and falsehood, for Aristotle defines truth and falsehood
in terms of the affirmation and denial of what is or is not combined (E 4,
1027b2023). If this phrase were not referring to truth and falsehood, it would
be hard to understand why it appears here. Likewise, Aristotles mention of
non-being in the above passage is intelligible in light of his comparison of
accidental being to non-being (E 2, 1026b21).38 Affections and qualities
are categories, as I said; likely, the former term refers to all the categorial
genera.39 In short, the relations to ousia that Aristotle describes span the four
ways being is said as distinguished in 7.40 If ousia is to be primary, it must
be primary in each of the four schemata of being.
Can Aristotle be using ousiai in this passage simply to designate any sort of
primary being? Later in the Metaphysics, it is clear that the form or actuality of
categorial ousia is primary in each per se schema, but that requires a good deal of
argument, and it is clearly not what he means here.41 Here, though, it is difficult
to give ousia a specific meaning other than primary being. When, for example,
Aristotle refers to ways into ousiai he suggests that ousiai are actualities, but
there are actualities and ways into them in many or all categorial genera. These
latter would be omitted from this list of beings if ways referred only to categorial ousiai. Hence, ousia in this passage is not limited to the categorial genus.
There is some ground for thinking that any being is an ousia in a broad
sense. We saw that mathematicals have natures and attributes, characters
39. Why does Aristotle use both terms in this passage? At 13, 1020a2830 he applies
the term affections () to motion and time, both of which are there taken to
be quantities. Thus, this Greek term is not limited to qualities. In the present passage, 1003b610, Aristotle may mention qualities () besides affections
to indicate the former is not limited to its narrow sense as a single category.
Brentano, Von der mannigfachen Bedeutung des Seienden nach Aristoteles,67, correlates what related to ousia with the ways being is said differently. He associates
both privations and denials with being as truth.
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exclusive to ousiai. In Z 4, Aristotle claims that essence and the what it is

belong primarily to (categorial) ousia, but also to qualities, quantities, and the
others (1030a2132). Since the essence of a thing is its ousia ( 8, 1017b2123;
cf. Z 1, 1028a31b2), every being would have an ousia. Moreover, this essence
or form, insofar as it is a this and separate, is an ousia ( 8, 1017b2326; Z 3,
1028b3336). It follows that every being is some sort of ousia. To be sure, essences
of other beings are ousiai on weaker grounds than instances of the categorial
genus of ousia, but this is a refinement that comes later in the Metaphysics.
What is important for us at this point is the extremely broad extension ousia
can have. Apparently, anything with an essence is an ousia, and in the central
books Aristotle takes every being to have an essence. It would be a mistake to
read this doctrine into 1003b610, but we should hold onto it as an indication
of the terms range of possible interpretations.
To summarize, Aristotle claims that being is a pros hen genus because every
being is related to ousia, but he does not say what ousia is, and we cannot infer
this from the relations that other beings have with it. Readers invariably suppose that the primary nature of being must be the categorial genus of ousia,
but the relations to ousiai that Aristotle describes are far broader than the
relations of other categories to this one. What, then, is the primary being?
Without some notion of what ousia is, we cannot give good sense to the claim
that the science that studies being qua being treats it as an ousia. What sense
can we make of this science?
The science that studies being qua being is easier to understand on either
of the two prevailing interpretations. If this phrase refers to the categorial
genus of ousia, then metaphysics is primarily the treatment of one category.
In this case, the treatment of book is consonant with that of the Metaphysics
central books where Aristotle declares metaphysics to be the science of ousia
(Z 1, 1028b27). We get consistency, but we need to give up on making sense of
the reasoning in and because it treats characters that extend well beyond
categorial ousiai. If, on the other hand, the phrase refers simply to universal
being, we need to give up the fundamentals of Aristotelian science as developed in the Organon and applied in his particular sciences, the emphasis on
ousia in the central books seems unwarranted, and, once again, the reasoning
in books and remains opaque. All the evidence points to Aristotles using
his logic, to the extent possible, to get a handle on being.
To be sure, Aristotle does narrow the focus of metaphysics to the category
of ousia in the central books. But the science of being qua being that Aristotle
introduces in book is an earlier stage of inquiry. Its scope is all beings. The
existence of this science is problematic: it depends on beings being a pros hen
and having some primary nature. We have, as yet, not identified that nature.
Aristotles first argument develops without identifying it.
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Let us, then, take another look at the question of what it means to study
beings qua being, a study I have identified with treating beings as ousiai.
Does it mean that (a) metaphysics studies each being insofar as it is what it
is? In this case, to study, say, climate qua being would be to know it as it is
in itself, that is, as climate. But it is the meteorologist who studies climate this
way, and the metaphysician would be unable to add anything to his knowledge of climate. Does studying climate qua being mean, then, (b) to study
climate insofar as it is related to an instance of the category of ousia? This is
no better, for the relations climate has to an ousia, assuming that a climate is
some characteristic state of the atmosphere in a place, are, again, peculiar to
it and should be known by the meteorologist, not the metaphysician. A third
possibility is that it means (c) to study not climate but the ousia to which it
belongs. But, this ousia will be the subject of its own science, and, again, the
metaphysician seems to have nothing to add to it. Perhaps it is a mistake to
focus on one being. Should we, rather, say that what is distinctive about our
science is that (d) it studies all beings qua being? But again, we face the
problem of what this science could add to the particular sciences. We might
still insist, as a fifth possibility, that (e) our science studies how (categorial)
ousiai serve as the sources of being for everything else. But this is one thing
the Metaphysics does not do, nor is it readily intelligible how it could, for other
beings cannot be derived from ousia.
All this assumes that climate and all other beings can be known by a science.
How do we know this? For Aristotle, being known by a science is not trivial.
To know something is to grasp its cause (A 3, 983a2529), most properly its
formal cause, that is, its ousia or essence. In the context of Greek philosophy,
especially Plato, it is hardly clear that all beings can be known. We would expect
Aristotle to argue this point. Before we can study something qua being we
need to know that what it is can be known. Can it be that studying something qua being is simply to treat it as if it could be known independently?
Then, to study climate qua being would simply be to study it as something
that could be studied, whereas to study climate qua climate would be to treat
it through its nature as a climate. The difference is between taking climate to
have a nature of some sort and treating the particular nature it has. The science that treats all beings in the former way is the most generic science, and
those sciences that treat particular natures are more specific. The latter are
concerned with the ultimate differentiae, the former with the broadest genus,
what is or what can be known. (It is worth noting that metaphysics peculiar
subject, the unmoved movers, are not known by us through their ultimate
differentiae but as the most knowable of beings.) Any particular science presupposes that its subject matter is the sort of thing that can be known, that
is, a being. Hence, it presupposes the science that knows all beings as things
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that can be known. This explains why metaphysics is prior to particular sciences and why it is a distinct science. If this is right, the science that studies
being qua being aims to show something about all beings that is extremely
important and also necessary for more particular sciences.
At first glance, we scarcely seem to have progressed beyond what Aristotle
asserts at the beginning of : being qua being is a placeholder that refers to
the nature of being, and it is this nature that is known by the science of being.
Now it is clear that to study something qua being is to study it through its
nature, its ousia. But we reached the same conclusion earlier. Anyway, we seem
to have returned to the standard view that the science of being qua being is the
science of (categorial) ousia. But this not right; is not making this reduction.
What is striking about the claim that being can be known by a science is the
implication that every being is knowable. It remains to determine how. At this
point in the inquiry, it is conceivable that each being will be known only as a
being, but then there would be no other science besides metaphysics. If each
being is also known in some more fine-grained way, there can be particular
sciences, and we will see, in Aristotles next set of arguments, grounds for
thinking being is constituted by distinct ousiai. This, in turn, justifies the
possibility of particular sciences. There can be sciences of climate and of
colorboth of which Plato casts to the shadows. If each kind of being can be
known in itself, then each must have an intelligible, essential nature.
What Aristotle needs metaphysics to show is that each individual being
does indeed have an essence, and a large portion of is devoted to this task, I
will argue. When he claims at the beginning of this book that being is known
through its nature or ousia, he could mean that metaphysics needs to study
categorial ousia because this is the essence of being. However, if being as a
whole has an essence, then each being will also have an essence. And this
essence is the ousia of each being. That is to say, in order that each being be
known, it must be an ousia: the ousia through which it is known is its own
nature. In short, it is having a nature or an ousia that makes something be a
being; to study it qua being is to study it through what it has that makes it a
being. That is, to study something qua being is to study what makes it have
a nature or be an ousia, and this is not the same as studying it through the
nature or ousia it hasthis latter is the job of a particular science.
Why, then, does Aristotle insist that beings pros hen character allows it to
be known by a science? Recall that his argument against beings being a genus
is that it cannot be differentiated because a differentia cannot be an instance
of the genus it differentiates and everything is a being. Following the line
of thought just sketched, we can see that Aristotle answers this argument
by distinguishing, in effect, dual ways of treating a being. If each being is
intelligible, then each being can be known through its ousia. However, other
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beings are related to this ousia: they are ways into it, privations, denials, and
so forth. These other beings can, thus, be known in relation to the ousia. Of
course, they can also be known individually in their own right as ousiai. If
this is right, to study being qua being is to study all beings as ousiai, and it
is to consider how some beings belong to these ousiai as their per se attributes.
Being is a pros hen because beings are known as ousiai or as related to ousiai,
just as healthy is a pros hen because what is healthy is either health in a body
or related to health. The difference is that, on the interpretation of 1003b610
I am proposing, some beings would be both ousiai and related to ousiai.
Later in the Metaphysics, Aristotle speaks of the primacy of categorial ousia
in respect of the other categorial genera: we know each of these [accidental
characters] whenever we know what is [the ousia of] the quantity or the quality (Z 1, 1028a31b2). Categorial ousia can only be prior in knowledge and
formula if the other beings also have formulae and can be known. That is to
say, in claiming that other categories are known through ousia, Aristotle is not
only assuming that the other categories stand in a pros hen relation to ousia, but
also that instances of these other categories can be known. What justifies his
assumption that the other categories and, indeed, every being can be known? My
contention is that this is the import of Aristotles claims that there is a science
of being qua being and that being is a pros hen genus whose primary nature is
ousia. The arguments for the existence of this science extend through .
One reason the character of this science has remained obscure is that it
constitutes one stage of a metaphysical inquiry whose later stages pursue
their subject quite differently. Another reason is that Aristotle uses being
qua being and ousia as placeholders that refer to the essence of being and
the nature that is that essence without telling us what they are. However, so
far from signifying ignorance of crucial concepts, I think these placeholders
convey exactly what Aristotle needs to make his point. To claim that there is
a science that studies being qua being is to claim that each being can be known
through its nature as a being. To identify this nature as the hen of the pros hen,
namely, ousia, is to claim that it is having an ousia, in some way, that makes the
being capable of being known. That each being is known through its having
an ousia is, I submit, exactly Aristotles point. He is answering the question,
what makes something a being? The answer is: having an ousia. In other
words, he is not relying on some particular ousia to grasp particular beings,
but ousia in general to account for the intelligibility of each being in general.
And being must rely on ousia in this way if it is pros hen, and it must be pros
hen if the causes are to be treated by the single science of metaphysics. Thus,
we have some reason to think that being can be known.
Let us continue. In studying being qua being, metaphysics treats being
as a genus that is known through its generic nature, ousia. Each instance of
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this genus is known through the formula of the ousia that belongs to it in
respect of the name of that genus (Cat. 1a16). Hence, something is known
as an animal through the formula of the ousia in respect of the genus animal,
namely, as something capable of sensation. Likewise, something is known
as a being through the formula of the ousia in respect of being. In the case of
being, the formula of the ousia is just the formula of ousia: that is, something
is known as a being because it is an ousia,42 and it is an ousia because, as we
will see, it has an essence. Hence, the ousia of being is, 12 show, just ousia.
Equivalently, the essence of being is just essence. Again, Aristotle is considering
what would make anything be a being, and his answer is not some character
with determinate categorial content; rather, it is its being an ousia or an essence
that makes something be.
This formulation of the results of 1 and the first argument of 2 seems, at
first glance, like a confusion of distinct senses of ousia, for the ousia of being
refers to a nature that belongs somehow to the instances of this quasi-genus,
whereas the ousia I identify it with is itself an instance of that genus. I suggest
that this identification is not a confusion but a deep insight into the reflexivity
of being. Just as the ousia or essence that characterizes a genus like animal
would be the nature that belongs in common to each animal in the genus, the
ousia of being is the nature that makes each instance of being what it is, namely,
a being. It is because each being has this nature that it can be the subject of a
science. Only, here, this nature is simply: having a nature. Thus, to examine
being qua being is to take being to have a natureprecisely what Aristotle
does in 1. It is because to examine being in this way is also to examine the
being of being that this approach to metaphysics constitutes a reflexive stage
of inquiry that is distinct from the central books inquiry into ousia.
To conclude this section, we have seen that in its initial appearance being
qua being is merely a placeholder that refers to the essence or nature of being
without indicating what it is, and that the doctrine that being is pros hen represents the first step in determining this nature. The nature of being is ousia, but
Aristotle does not initially determine what this is either. These conclusions show
being to be a possible object of knowledge and, thereby, show how metaphysics
might be possible. They also show the beginning of a process of determining
beings nature. Once we see the Metaphysics as an inquiry, we can appreciate that
being qua being and ousia do not have fixed meanings throughout the work
but are defined by means of the inquiry. Their meanings become progressively
42. At 1004a3 Aristotle speaks of the parts of philosophy treating ousiai. Since mathematics is a part of philosophy, this passage implies that quantity is a kind of
ousia. (For an alternative view of mathematicals in see: Merlan, From Platonism
to Neoplatonism,165.)
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narrower as Aristotle proceeds to determine the nature of primary being. That

there is a nature that can be the object of metaphysics is only the beginning. Yet,
here it is precisely this extremely general sense of nature that Aristotle relies
upon: metaphysics is possible because all beings have, in some way, natures that
render them knowable. Other obstacles to the existence of this science, those
we saw in the preceding chapter, have yet to be removed. There are six more
arguments in 23 that aim to accomplish this task, and we must now work
through them. All resemble the first in their logical structure. Although they
seem to show the existence of one science of topics that ought to be included
in metaphysics, their effect is rather to determine what structure being and its
attributes must have to come under a single science.

A second argument showing that particular topics fall under one science
appears in the few lines that follow the first argument. It is controversial just
what these topics are, and the controversy turns, in part, on how to interpret
the Greek text. Consequently, it is best to begin by presenting the text:
,
[ ]
, .43
The first sentence asserts that there is one science and one perception of one
genus, a familiar claim. But how should we understand the with which
the sentence begins? It is generally rendered as each,44 and the whole sentence
is taken to say that there is one science of each genus. But this claim is not what
is shown by the illustration that follows it in the text: for example, grammar,
being one, investigates all () sounds. The point of this illustration is that
grammar is one science of all the diverse sounds; we would expect the claim
43. I have placed the after in brackets because the best manuscripts omit
the phrase. Ross and Jaeger include it in their texts; Alexander states the claim
with the phrase (In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria, 245.14), but immediately
speaks of being as the subject of concern (245.16). If my interpretation of being
qua being as the essence of being is correct, the variation is not significant.
44. Ross translates, each class; Apostle, Aristotles Metaphysics, has each genus;
Kirwan renders every one genus; Brthlein, Die Transcendalienlehre,167, translates
it as jede einzelne Gattung.
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it illustrates to be a generalization of the same point. Thus, it is reasonable to

take in the preceding clause so that the whole sentence asserts that
there is one science and one perception of one entire genus. Then, the fact
that grammar studies all the sounds illustrates the general claim, that one
science studies all of a genus. The point is that whatever the diversity that
belongs to a genus, it all falls under one science.45
What is the diversity belonging to a genus? Just what is included in the
entire genus? The obvious answer is its various species, and this is supported
by the fact that sounds are species. We can infer the latter from Aristotles using
sounds as examples of things whose principles are determinate in species but
not in number (B 6, 1002b1725; 4, 1000a14; 3, 1014a2631). This latter is
another way of saying that sounds fall into a definite number of species and
that each species, in turn, has an indefinite number of instances. The species
are the types of spoken sound. Aristotle refers to the genus of spoken sounds
as grammatical things ( ). Thus, the point of his example is that
one generic science, grammar, treats all the species of grammatical things, that
is, all the types of spoken sounds. This example illustrates the general claim
that the science that knows a genus also knows all the species that fall under
it. This is what it means for one science to know the entire genus.
Recall that the result of the first argument of 2 was that being is a type of
genus, a pros hen genus. It should follow that the one science that knows the
genus of being will know the entire genus, the quasi-generic nature and all
of its species. The Greek text is readily seen to be drawing just this inference:
Therefore, it belongs to a science that is one in genus to study the species
() of being [qua being]. Thus, on my interpretation, the argument is: (1)
one science and one kind of sensation grasp an entire genus, that is, they both
grasp the generic nature and all its species; (2) being is a genus; hence, (3) there
is one science of being and all its species. The second assumption, argued in
argument one (5.2.1), is implicit here. That this argument relies upon a claim
argued in the first argument bolsters my interpretations of both.
To the conclusion of this argument, Aristotle adds a puzzling and ambiguous appendix that extends his claim about the subject matter of metaphysics
to: . Since earlier in the sentence means species,
this phrase should refer to the species of those species. We can understand
the extension: since all the species of a genus fall under the science that treats
the genus, the species of those species should also fall under this science for
45. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,82, interprets the argument
as I have here, but he retains the usual translation of the first sentence. This
interpretation does not depend on : Aristotles illustration makes his
point clear.
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precisely the same reason. Since metaphysics treats being and the species of
being, it should also treat the species of the species of being because the species of being are genera in respect of their own species.
There are, of course, a variety of problems with and alternatives to this
interpretation that need to be examined. First, the claim in (1) that there is
one sensation of one genus seems to be at odds with the conclusion of the
argument on two counts. There is no single sensation of all beings or of their
species; nor is there any sensation at all of supersensibles, though these
latter are either the proper subject of metaphysics or, at least, included in that
subject. Thus, the opening claim that there is one sensation of one genus cannot be applied to the conclusion of the argument. Perhaps, though, Aristotle
refers to sensation and sounds here merely to bolster his case for saying that
one science treats one genusas Rosss translation suggests. But why would
he need to make a case for a principle that he has assumed through book B
and even just a few lines earlier in 2 (1003b1115)? I suggest that Aristotle
mentions sensation here to support the inclusion of all sounds in one science.
How do we know that the species of sounds come under one science? There
is one science of one sensation, and all sounds are grasped by the same sense
organ. Thus, they are all grasped by the same science. Since, in this case, the
science of the genus can know each of the species, there is no reason why the
same should not be true in all other cases. The reason, then, that Aristotle
mentions sensation here is to emphasize the diverse sounds grasped by the
same faculty and so to support his claim that all the species are known by the
same science that knows the genus.
Since (2) is implicit, we need to consider whether alternative interpretations of the argument might render it unnecessary. It has been suggested that
in this argument should be understood not as species but as the forms,
such as those that Plato and the dialecticians consider (B 1, 995b2025).46 In
this case, the point of the argument would be to include the forms of being
in the science that treats being, and it would seem that (2) could be avoided.
But how could we then make sense of the argument? What would be the
point of mentioning that one science treats a genus? Individual sounds are
not forms of a genus. Moreover, why would Aristotle mention unity in
genus when speaking of the forms of being? Dialectical forms do not seem
to have any connection with genera. Finally, in a context where Aristotle
uses both and genus, it is hard to imagine the former meaning anything
besides species.
46. Owens, Doctrine of Being,275, takes this approach. He equates the forms of being
with same, other, like, and so forth, that is, with the forms of one (p. 276); and he
apparently equates this argument with that of 1004a31b26.
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As for the conclusion (3), one problem is how to make sense of the idea
of species of being. Nothing has been said about a pros hen genuss having
species. What would the species of being be? The obvious answer is that
they are the categorial genera. In a passage often taken with the present
one, 1004a29,47 Aristotle claims that having genera belongs immediately
to being. He means, of course, the categorial genera. Insofar as being is a
genus, the categories could be termed its species, though they would not,
of course, be species in the narrow and proper sense of that term. Being is
also divided by the other two per se schemata, actuality/potentiality and
true/false, and either pair could serve as species of being. But Aristotle does
not treat them as species.
Another difficulty with (3) is that, as I have construed the text upon which
it is based (1003b2122), Aristotle claims that the science of being is one in
genus rather than that its subject matter is one in genus: Therefore, it belongs
to a science that is one in genus to study the species of being [qua being].
It is possible to take what I have rendered in genus to refer to the subject
matter here, in which case the passage would read, Therefore, it belongs to a
single science of the genus to study all the species of being.48 However, there
is a better solution. Aristotle is arguing that one science knows not only a
genus but its species as well as the species of these species. Since the species
of the genus are themselves differentiated, they are also genera in respect of
their own species. As such, there will also be a science that knows each of
them along with their species. That is to say, besides the science that knows
the genus of being and its species, there are sciences that know each of these
species along with its species. Hence, it is appropriate for Aristotle to speak
of a generic science here, for it encompasses the specific sciences that each
treat one of the species.
That this generic-specific structure of sciences corresponds to the genusspecies structure of their subject matters is consistent with what follows in
Aristotles text. At 1004a23, Aristotle claims that the parts of philosophy
are as numerous as the ousiai. Since, as he explains elsewhere, the parts of
47. Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria,250.32251.8; Brthlein, Die
Transcendalienlehre,167.
48. After Owens, Doctrine of Being,275n. He takes the phrase as a dative of
advantage that parallels the genitive at 1003b19: The change of construction at
b2122 placed in the genitive, and so calls for a change from the genitive at b19 to a dative. Thus, Owens thinks that the subject matter rather
than the science is generic. This is ingenious, but Aristotle also puts genus in
the dative where these considerations do not obtain (e.g., in the next argument,
1003b35). In contrast, the Greek commentators take the phrase to apply to the
science: Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria,246.67; Syrianus, In
Metaphysica Commentaria,58.1215.
330
a genus are its species ( 25, 1023b1719), 1004a23 is saying that there are
as many species of philosophy as ousiai. Philosophy in 1004a23 is a name
for the science that treats being qua being, and mathematics cuts off a
part of this subject (1003a2426). We already know from 1003b1920 that
the subject matter of metaphysics is a genus. Apparently, the science itself
is also one in genus, and its species, including mathematics, have as their
respective objects the species of its subject genus, each of which is an ousia.
At 1004a29 Aristotle claims that these species are serially ordered like the
parts of mathematics; there are prior and posterior species that treat prior
and posterior ousiai. But just as all the parts of mathematics belong to one
generic science of mathematics, all sciences of ousiai belong to the generic
science of philosophy. All this supports interpreting our argument to be
including the species of being within the purview of metaphysics, but it also
supports interpreting 1003b2122 to be referring to metaphysics as a generic
science. This generic science would include the specific sciences along with
their subject matters.49
The appendix is also grammatically ambiguous. The problem is whether
is (1) parallel with or (2) a partitive taken
with . In (2), the interpretation I offered above, the same science that
studies the species of being also studies the species of those species. The
merit of this interpretation is that the appendix follows from the main argument that supports the inclusion of all the species of a genus in one science.
On the other hand, according to (1), the conclusion and the appendix assert
that just as being is known by a science that is one in genus, the species (or
forms) of being are known by specific sciences. This latter interpretation, by
far the more popular in the literature, 50 seems to fit with 1004a29 because
this latter passage speaks of different parts, that is, species of philosophy,
each of which treats a part of the subject of philosophy (a part of metaphysics). The issue here is not which interpretation is rightboth arebut which
best follows from the argument and fits the context. Aristotles argument in
this brief section (b1921) aims to include species within the scope of the science that treats a genus. That other particular sciences treat the species does
not follow from the argument, nor is it relevant to the argument; indeed, it
is antithetical to it on the surface. If this were Aristotles point it would not
appear in the arguments conclusion, and Aristotle could hardly let it pass
49. Cf. Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria,245.2327.
50. This interpretation is endorsed by: Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica
Commentaria,245.29246.13; Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of
Aristotle,IV. L.1:C 547 (the English translation of Aristotles text that the editors
include [paragraph 300] is inconsistent with this commentary); Ross, Aristotles
Metaphysics,1:257; Apostle, ad loc.
331
without some explanation. Moreover, the that connects the appendix with
the preceding conclusion suggests a close link between coordinate conclusions. In short, there is more support for interpretation (2).
The species of being and the species of those species are studied by metaphysics; but they are also studied by particular sciences. The obvious question
is, how could there be specific sciences if their subject matters are included
in the generic science? What could the specific sciences add to knowledge if
their subjects are already known by the generic science? How could metaphysics co-exist along with particular sciences? Whether qua being (1003b21)
should be included in the text is unclear, but the phrase suggests an answer
to this question that is probably right in any case. Metaphysics treats being
and its species qua being insofar as it studies them through the generic
nature of being, ousia. In the previous section I argued that things can only
be treatedqua being if they are beings and that to treat them this way is to
treat them as ousiai. It is different to know that something is an ousia and,
thus, has a nature and to know it through the nature it has; and the former,
metaphysical knowledge does not contain the particular sciences. Accordingly,
whereas the species of generic being are known by metaphysics as ousiai of
some sort, they are known through specific sciences qua themselves, that is,
through their own independent natures.
We can see another difference in these two ways of knowing from Aristotles
claim in 1004a29 that ousiai are ordered. Ousiai that are posterior have additional characteristics that distinguish them from ousiai that are prior. Hence, the
science that treats the first ousia grasps characteristics that are common to all.
Insofar as this science of first ousia knows all ousiai, it is the generic science. The
specific sciences treat ousiai that are posterior and, therefore, more determinate.
Analogously, among the mathematical sciences, there is a primary science,
apparently arithmetic, whose characters belong to successive sciences. These
latter, in turn, treat entities that have features that belong only to themselves.
This explains how the generic science can include all the species, even though
those species can also be known by their own specific sciences.
If all this is correct, the text under consideration contains an argument that
refines our understanding of metaphysics subject matter. Obviously, it cannot
extend a subject matter that we know, from the first argument, includes all
beings. However, we now know that among those beings are the species of
being, that is, apparently, the categorial genera, along with their species. We
have come to see that the genus of being has this structure, and Aristotle is
claiming that metaphysics knows it in its entirety qua being. In short, starting
from the conclusion of the preceding argument, that the genus of being falls
under one science, the present text argues that this science knows, as well, all
the species of being and all the species of those species.
332
How, though, does Aristotle know that there are species of being? He offers
no argument; he does not even tell us what the species are. His claim that
being has species has as little apparent support as his assertion that being is
pros hen.
Let me propose that this second argument works much like the first. On
the surface both assume being has a structure and then prove that beings
with this structure belong to one science. Neither text justifies the structure
it assumes. I suggest that the same reversal of perspective occurs here as in
the first argument. What Aristotle advances as the conclusion really serves as
his premise. In effect, he assumes that the species of being and their species
must be treated by metaphysics. He must, it would seem, make this assumption if there is to be a metaphysics. The problem is to explain how metaphysics
could treat the species of being when they fall under other sciences. Aristotles
solution is that these species are treated by the same science that treats the
genus, and this science will also, for exactly the same reason, treat the species
of these speciesbut in a different way than they are known in the particular
sciences. Assuming that there is no other way in which these universals could
be included in metaphysics, we can infer that being must have species.
Can this really be Aristotles reasoning? As I have formulated it, it has the
same aporetic style that we saw in the first argument: it, too, depends on the
exclusion of alternative ways of including the species in metaphysics. Here,
though, alternative ways of including species are hardly excluded. Indeed,
since the first argument includes everything related to ousia, and since the
categorial genera are among the species of being, along with the other types
of relations to ousia sketched in 1003b510, the species of being, as well as the
species of these species, have already been included in metaphysics by the
previous argument. (By the same token, the present argument undermines the
implicit claim of the previous argument that all beings could only be included
within the subject matter of metaphysics if being is a pros hen.) In short, an
aporetic reading of argument two seems highly implausible.
It is implausible if we take the argument by itself. My claim is that it works
together with the next argument to resolve the third aporia. It is because together
they constitute the only possible solution to this aporia that they must both be
valid. An essential clue to connecting these arguments is Aristotles claim,
noted earlier, that the partsand, thus, the speciesof being are different
ousiai (cf. 1004a23).51 It is including these ousiai, not species, in one science that
is really of interest. The first argument does not distinguish ousiai. Argument
two serves, in effect, to divide ousia into kinds. Of course, Aristotle does not
ordinarily speak of quantity and quality as ousiai, but this usage is entirely
51. See Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria,246.919.
333
consistent with and, indeed, supports my claim that metaphysics regards every
being as an ousia. It also supports my interpretation of being qua being as
a placeholder for the nature that is the essence or ousia of being; for we can
see that the ousia of being has now acquired more determination and that it
extends more widely than categorial ousia. That ousiai of every sort fall under
metaphysics is clear from the first argument, but Aristotle still needs to show
how to skirt the obstacles to including them in one science that the third aporia
raises. This is what arguments two and three do together.
Whether the aim of argument two is to show that being (and thus ousia)
does have species, as I have proposed, or that the species of being are included
in metaphysics, as a surface reading would imply, the text makes clear that
being has a genus-species structure. This structure explains why the science of being also treats other entities, the species of being, that should fall
under metaphysics. Insofar as showing that there is one science of what
ought to be included within the subject matter of metaphysics contributes
toward showing that metaphysics exists, argument two supports the existence ofmetaphysics.
The next argument opens with a well-known, but puzzling assertion that
being and one are the same:
If being and one are one and the same nature by following each other52
(just as principle and cause) but not because they are made clear by the
same formula,... (1003b2223).
While the quotation is the protasis of a conditional, there is no question that
it expresses Aristotles views because he affirms the same doctrine elsewhere:
I 2, 1054a13; K 3, 1061a16; and Topics 1, 121b7. The doctrine is often taken
as an assertion of the convertibility of two transcendentals.53 In contrast, the
tendency of most Anglo-American commentators is to follow Alexander in
52. The Greek is usually taken to mean follow from each
other. Kirwan uses this phrase in his translation; Ross renders implied in each
other. However, the Greek phrase does not always signify a logical connection;
at De Anima 1, 425b69, a similar expression refers to mere conjunction. My
translation leaves both possibilities open.
53. Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle,IV. L.2:C 54860,
begins his commentary on this passage by repeating Aristotles arguments, but
he ends by espousing his own doctrine of transcendentals, esp. C 55360. See
also Brthlein, Die Transcendalienlehre,17381.
334
taking it as expressing the extensional identity of two terms or properties.54

To decide this issue, we must look at the argument of the passage.
The protasis quoted above is followed by some parenthetical remarks before
it is concluded by a clause at either 1003b30 or 1003b33.55 These parenthetical remarks constitute an argument in support of the identity of being and one
asserted by the protasis. The text may be corrupt, but Aristotles argument is
straightforward. The argument begins with the claim that man, one man,
and man is all signify the same thing. The further addition of being to
any of these (whether as the predicate is or the participle being) results in
a mere verbal doubling; the thing expressed remains the same (1003b2729).56
Further, it is clear that [the thing] is not separated [from being] either in generation or destruction, and also in the same way in regard to one (1003b2930).
That is to say, the addition of one or being alters neither the formula of a thing
nor its physical nature because being and unity already belong to the thing;
and, indeed, they always belong to the thing through whatever changes it
undergoes. From this, Aristotle infers, so that the addition [of being or one]
to these things makes clear the same [thing], and one is nothing else apart
from being (1003b3031). This last sentence, the conclusion of the argument
in Aristotles long parenthesis, amounts to a restatement of the opening claim
that being and one make clear the same nature.
In the process of arguing for the identity of being and one, Aristotle is showing that they both depend upon some other nature. Both signify this nature
54. According to Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria,246.30 ff., the two
are the same . Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and
E,82, seems to have this in mind when he claims that being and one have the same
truth conditions. Rosss position is unclear in his initial discussion of the passage
(Aristotles Metaphysics 1:25758); but that he accepts the extensional interpretation
is implied by Aristotles Metaphysics 2:282 and by his description of Metaphysics I
2 at 2:284.
55. The scholarly consensus is that the latter begins the apodosis: Ross, Aristotles
Metaphysics,1:257; Brthlein, Die Transcendalienlehre,174.
56. This passage is usually emended. Ross discusses the difficulties and argues for
his interpretation at Aristotles Metaphysics 1:25758. According to Jaegers apparatus (but not Rosss), the best manuscripts read as follows for 1003b2829:
. The problem with this text is that it
does not seem to concern the reduplication of being, as we would expect from
the claim in the next line that the argument holds in the same way in regard to
one (1003b30). However, we can see the relevance of manuscript reading if we
understand the reduplication to lie in adding either man or one to man is.
The point would be that once we have said man is, to add either of the others is
just redundant. Likewise, once we have said one man, to add either is man or
man is just a verbal reduplication. Whatever the relative merits of this and other
interpretations of the text, there are no real doubts about Aristotles point.
335
because they follow each other in the sense that any particular nature would
be a being and a one. They add nothing to the nature because to say that the
nature is or is one is a repetition of what the nature contains. If this is right,
being and one follow each other but do not follow from each other; they
follow from the nature.57 Consequently, Aristotle does not take them to be
transcendentals, for had he done so, he would have argued for their identity
by connecting the characters associated with them. We see such arguments in
Thomas Aquinas commentary on this text: being signifies the act of existence
and one signifies undividedness, and the identity of the two is based on the
mutual implication of these transcendental characters and thing (res).58 Since
there is no argument here that being and one follow from each other, Aristotle
does not treat them as transcendentals.
Can we, then, infer that being and one are terms or concepts with identical
extension? Aristotles argument does show that being and one are extensionally identical. But he also thinks that it shows more, for immediately after
the conclusion that being does not make clear a nature different from one,
he asserts, and further the ousia of each thing is one not accidentally and in
the same way it is also essentially ( ) a being.59 If the ousia of each
thing is essentially one and a being, then the identity of being and one is more
than just extensional. Yet, Aristotle seems to infer that being and one belong
to the ousia of a thing from their making clear the same thing, that is, from
their extensional identity.
How does it follow from this latter that being and one belong to the ousia of
each thing? Two derivations are suggested by Aristotles text. The stronger of them
uses the nature of the substrate in the way that I have been explaining here:
(1) Since being and one add nothing to a nature, they must either be
nothing or be already contained in the nature. But there is a science of
57. Allan Bck, Aristotles Theory of Predication, Philosophia Antiqua (Leiden: Brill,
2000),64, also sees that being follows from a things nature, but he takes being to
be existence and infers that certain terms . . . carry their existence around with
them in virtue of their very presence or meaning. We will see later that being
belongs in respect of a things essence. Being here is less determinate than
existence would suggest.
58. Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle,IV. L.2:C 553. Cf.
Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, in Basic Writings of Saint Thomas Aquinas.,
ed. Anton Charles Pegis (New York: Random House, 1945),I, q. 11. a. 1, pp. 8586;
Thomas Aquinas, The Disputed Questions on Truth, trans. Robert W. Mulligan
(Chicago: H. Regnery Co., 1952),q.1, a.1, pp. 56.
59. I follow Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics,1:258, in taking the Greek phrase translated
essentially in contrast with accidentally in the preceding line. Cf. Kirwan,
Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,8283.
336
being; so it cannot be nothing. Hence, being must already belong to each

nature, and thus it belongs to each in respect of its essence. The same
must be true of one.
This may be what Aristotle has in mind here, for near the end of Metaphysics
H he asserts that being and one do belong to each nature immediately: and
essence is immediately a one and a being (6, 1045b45). There is a weaker
interpretation of the reasoning that does not turn on assumptions about the
nature that is and is one:
(2) Being and one can be said of each nature; but whatever occurs always
or for the most part is not due to accident but to a nature ( 30, 1025a46;
Phys. B 8, 198b3436). Hence, being and one must belong to each thing in
respect of its nature.
Either of these arguments will work; but (2) is preferable because it depends on
the things nature rather than its essence. has not yet used the technical expression for essence ( ). Still, there is no doubt that it has the conceptual
resources to derive the assertion that being and one belong to each nature not
accidentally. Being and one follow from or are contained in each nature.
The foregoing analysis takes us up to what is usually thought60 to be the
apodosis of the conditional with which the argument begins:
So that there are as many species of being as there are species of one. To
investigate the what it is concerning these belongs to a science which
is the same in genus; I mean, for example [to investigate the what it is
of] same and like and the others of this sort. And nearly all the opposites
are led back to this principle; let these things be investigated61 by us in
the Selection of Contraries (1003b331004a2).
What reasoning justifies these inferences?
60. See note 55.
61. Ross, Kirwan, and others translate this verb as if it referred to a past investigation,
but the tense, third person perfect passive imperative, could refer to the future.
According to Herbert Weir Smyth, Greek Grammar (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard
University Press, 1980),416: The imperative always implies future time. The tenses
do not refer to difference of time, and denote only the stage of the action. . . . The
perfect passive (in the third person) is used of a fixed decision concerning what
is to be done or has been done. Consequently, the Selection of Contraries need
not refer to a distinct earlier work; it could refer to what is still to come in book I
(see esp. I 34), as Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle,IV.
L.2:C 562, thinks. On the other hand, references by Greek commentators, especially
Simplicius in his commentary on the Categories, to the Selection of Contraries as,
apparently, a separate work stand against its identification with a portion of book I.
337
Consider the two claims that immediately precede them: (1) being and
one make clear the same nature, and one is not something apart from being
(1003b3032), and (2) being and one both belong to the ousia of each thing not
accidentally (b3233). The conclusion we would expect at this point is that one
belongs to the same science as being. For the science that treats being must study
those natures to which being belongs per se just as the science of animals would
investigate the natures that are animals per se; but the natures to which being
belongs not accidentally are just those to which one belongs not accidentally.
Hence, one ought to be included in the science that treats being.
But the conclusion that Aristotle expresses is not this, but that the species
of one are included in that science. How does Aristotle get from the conclusion that his remarks justify, namely, the inclusion of one, to the inclusion of
ones species? The obvious way to answer the question is to refer to argument
two (1003b1922): since one is a genus, and since one science treats one genus
along with its species, there is one science of the species of one. This latter is
the science that treats being and one.
In order for Aristotle to make this argument, one would need to be a genus.
It is reasonable to think that one would be a genus for the same reason that
being is, that is, that one, too, would be pros hen. But Aristotle does not say one
is pros hen or that it is a genus. He would need to argue both. That one would
be pros hen is unlikely because anything related to a primary one is obviously
not strictly one. Apart from his referring to species of onenot decisive by
itselfwe do not have any warrant for taking one to be a genus. All this counts
against the argument of the previous paragraphs being Aristotles. There is
another reason to be skeptical of it: it makes no use of the claim Aristotle uses
to conclude that there is one generic science of the species of one, namely, that
the species of one and of being are equinumerous (1003b3334).
This correlation between the species of one and those of being resembles the
correlation between being and one. Just as the latter are both consequences of a
things nature, so too something is, say, a quality and same (as itself) because of
its nature or, perhaps, something whose nature is to be quality will also be the
same as itself because of its nature. This suggests a more plausible understanding of Aristotles argument. He begins from the conclusion of argument two:
there is one science of being and its species (1003b1922). Since whatever is is
also one, and since whatever is some particular kind of being is a particular one
that corresponds to it, things are and are one and determinate kinds of being
and kinds of one in respect of their natures. Since the science that treats being

These references have been translated by Ross, Select Fragments,10914. However,

the commentators are not always reliable and, anyway, nothing in the content of
Simpliciuss remarks precludes their being about book I. We will see more similarities
between and I as we proceed through the remaining arguments in the former.
338
treats, as well, the natures that are and all the ways or species in which they are,
and since one and the species of one also belong essentially to those natures,
the science that treats the natures will also treat one and its species.
The difference between this and the first, simpler version of the argument
is that whereas the first version includes one and its species in metaphysics
because they parallel being and its species, the second version includes one
and its species because they spring from the same natures as being and its
species. On the latter version, one and its species piggyback on being and its
species, and Aristotle relies on no claim about their natures.
It is a bit disconcerting that Aristotle would, on the second interpretation,
show the dependence of one on being by speaking of their equinumerosity.
He generally dismisses equinumerosity as a mere analogy: the equality of
our fingers with the number of bodies in the solar system would not justify
including them both in the same science (cf. N 6, 1093a1b4). But it is not
equinumerosity itself that connects being and one. Rather, the species of being
and the species of one are equinumerous because both spring from the same
natures. The science that treats the natures also treats the various ways they
are and are one, that is, the species of being and of one. But how, we might ask,
do we know that natures are included in the subject matter of metaphysics?
These natures are, I think, just the ousiai that the first argument advanced as
primary beings, ousiai that, as we saw, are not confined to a single categorial
genus. These natures are all beings, but they also fall into distinct species, as
we saw in argument two, and their species into further species. Insofar as each
nature is a being, it is also one being. And since each kind of being is also one
of that kind, the species of one are as numerous as the species of being and
will fall under the same science that treats their natures. Thus, Aristotle is
using the results of the previous arguments to argue that one and its species
fall to the same science as being and its species.
Understanding the inclusion of one and its species to depend on being and
its species undermines the view of Ross and others that the species of being
are the species of one.62 Indeed, Aristotles insistence that the species of these
two are equinumerous implies that they are different.63 But both stem from
the primary being and are treated along with it. The two sets of species are
essentially connected through this primary being.
What is this essential connection? We saw that Aristotle argues that one
and being add nothing to a nature because they are already presupposed
in the nature. But this nature (1003b23) that is and is one is also a
62. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics,1:256. Also: Owens, Doctrine of Being,27578; Kirwan,
Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,83.
63. Brthlein, Die Transcendalienlehre,179, also denies that they can be the same. See
also Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle,IV. L.2:C 561.
339
kind of being; and insofar as it is a kind of being, it is a kind of one. Just as

one and being add nothing to the nature, its species of being and its species of one add nothing to it because they belong to the nature in respect of
what it is. Again, the reason there are as many species of one as of being is
that any species of being would have some sort of nature, and that nature
would not only be and be one, but be in a particular way and be one in the
corresponding way. This argument is not complete in the text, but it is obvious and, given the overall state of Aristotles text, not problematic. What is
important for us is that since one and its species come into metaphysics on
the coattails of being, as it were, we cannot say from this argument that one
is a pros hen or how its species are connected with it. Indeed, we do not know
what these species are until the very end of the argument when Aristotle
explains that he means same, like, and the others of that sort (1003b3536;
also I 3, 1054a2931).
From this last identification, we can infer that the species of being are, or include,
the categorial genera,64 for a passage from 15 correlates the two lists:
Further, equal, like, and same [are numerical relations] in a different way,
for all are said in respect of the one: things whose ousia is one are the
same, things whose quality is one are like, and things whose quantity
is one are equal (1021a912).
This correlation raises a number of problems. In this passage, same, like, and
equal are each said to be a relative ( ). Relatives are just one type of
predicate, one of the categorial genera, that the Categories discusses; ousia, quantity, and quality are others. How can all these latter be identified as instances
of a single type of predicate? Moreover, relatives are two-term predicates,
whereas the ones associated with them here are one-term. Further, how can
we square 15s notion that the one in each category is a relation with passages that maintain that the one in each category is a particular nature (e.g.,
Z4, 1030b1012; I 2, 1053b2528; 1054a1316)? In the third argument, one, being
and, I claim, their respective species are consequences of a nature; how, then,
can Aristotle identify the species of one as relations, namely, as same, like,
and the others of that sort?
Some of the mystery vanishes if we recall Aristotles claim in 9 (1018a78)
that sameness is a kind of unity that belongs to many or to what is treated
as many (discussed in 2.5). This means that the relation of sameness is just a
unity that belongs to a substantial nature. This nature is the same as itself in
contrast with, say, a quantitative nature that is equal to itself and a qualitative
64. Brthlein, Die Transcendalienlehre,17980, also understands the two sets of species
in this way.
340
nature that is like itself. So, there is a correlation between a natures categorial
genus and its species of unity. Although these latter are treated in 15 as relations, Aristotle does not confine relation to a genus or a species. Like s use
of ousia, it seems to extend to all beings individually. Whereas 15 speaks
of the different relations, the third argument discusses the natures standing
in those (self) relations. This distinction is parallel to Aristotles claim that
the essence of one ( ) is both to be indivisible and some thing that
is indivisible (I1, 1052b319) (discussed in 2.3). Just as a nature is one insofar
as it is indivisible, it may be the same (as itself) or fall under another species
of one. Thus, all the previous paragraphs apparent difficulties fall away.
Yet, invoking the passage from 9 raises a new problem, for that passage
suggests that instances of any category of being could be the same (see also
I3, 1054b1419), whereas the passage from 15 claims that only things whose
ousia is one are the same. This is a case where Aristotle has broader and narrower uses of the same term. I have been arguing that uses ousia in a very
broad sense. Later, Aristotle claims that essence and what it is ( )
also characterize all beings, albeit not in the same way (Z 4, 1030a2232). In
this sense, any being might be the same as itself. In the narrower usage, some
of these ousiai are substantial, others qualitative, and so forth. Combining
both usages, one nature could be the same as itself and also, from another
perspective, equal to itself.
It is easiest for us to suppose that the species of being and the species of one
are generic divisions of all things that correlate with each other, that is, categorial
genera that neatly divide all things. There is another possibility: the different
species could be intensive divisions of individual natures that are, perhaps, the
same in one respect, equal in other, and so forth. The third argument tells us
very little about what the species of one are, just as the second told us little about
the species of being. It is not an examination of natures that leads Aristotle to
posit that being and one have species. Ostensibly, he argues that since the species of being and the species of one are both consequences of a things nature,
the science that treats the nature, metaphysics, treats these species as well. It is
plausible, though, that, as in the two earlier arguments, Aristotle is really assuming that metaphysics existence hinges on its treating same, like, equal, and so
forth and reasoning that these could be included in its subject matter were they
species of one correlated with the categorial genera. Because the species of one
must be treated by a universal science, and because there is such a science, we
could infer that one, like being, has species. In this way, the argument would
be laying out another element in the structure of being. But we have no ground
in the text of the third argument to make this move.
In a puzzling aside that seems to belong with the next bit of text or even
the next argument, Aristotle declares that nearly all the opposites are led
341
back to the species of one (1003b361004a1). He may mean to say that since
the species of one are the dialectical forms that B 1 mentions in a supplement
to the fourth aporia (995b2025), these latter are included in metaphysics. But
he has not yet overcome this aporias objections to including them. Anyway,
the next text suggests a better interpretation.
5.3.3 1004a29
The passage that appears in the manuscripts immediately after the third
argument, 1004a29, is usually thought to belong after the first or second argument.65 I shall argue here that this passage presupposes the result of the second
and third arguments and is thus in its proper place. It is an appendix to the
third argument that parallels the appendix to the first argument (1003b1619)
in that it, too, brings the argument to bear on resolving an aporia. The aporia
here is whether one or many sciences treat all ousiai; or, to formulate it in
accordance with the analysis I proposed in the last chapter, the aporia is how
a single science can treat all the ousiai without there being, in consequence, a
single demonstrative science of all per se attributes.
The appendix opens with the claim that there are as many parts of philosophy as there are ousiai (1004a23). A strange and interesting assertion,
it is problematic in several ways: (A) Does philosophy refer to the science
that studies all beings, that is, metaphysics, the science of being qua being, or
does the term indicate the totality of philosophy or theoretical science, a part
of which, first philosophy, is metaphysics?66 Throughout book Aristotle
uses the terms philosophy and philosopher for metaphysics and the
65. Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria,251.26, places it after
the second argument. Schwegler, Die Metaphysik,3:155; Ross, Aristotles
Metaphysics,1:25657; Owens, Doctrine of Being,279., place it after the first
argument. Alexander thinks it is 1003b221004a2 that is the improper insert;
Ross that 1004a29 has been improperly inserted. Since 1004a1 speaks of the
opposites and 1004a9 begins to take up this topic, Rosss view looks plausible;
since 1003b19 emphasizes the primacy of ousia, it would seem appropriate for
Aristotle to discuss the ousiai next, as he does in 1004a29, and 1003b22s mention of the species of being also seems to link it to 1004a29s remarks on the
subjects of the parts of philosophy.
66. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,83, maintains that the parts of
philosophy are not parts of metaphysics but parts of theoretical science on the
ground that the study of a particular kind of ousia is not always metaphysics. But,
elsewhere, he acknowledges that Aristotles metaphysics is wider in scope than
theology because it aims to explain everything through their relation to basic
existents (pp. 202203). This latter would suggest philosophy in does refer
to metaphysics.
342
metaphysician (e.g., 1003b19; 1004b1; b9; b16; 1005b6).67 If he is consistent, the

parts of philosophy are parts of metaphysics. (B) Are these parts internal
parts of philosophy or distinct sciences? Aristotle claimed in the opening of
book that mathematics cuts off a part of the subject matter of metaphysics (1003a2226). He may reason that since mathematics and other sciences
treat a part of what philosophy treats, these sciences, though independent,
are somehow parts of philosophy.68 Alternatively, the part of philosophy that
treats mathematicals may be an internal part of metaphysics that focuses on
quantitative beings, the sort of treatment we find in Metaphysics M and N, in
contrast with the treatment of sensible ousiai in the central books. We saw, in
discussing argument two, that metaphysics treats all the genera of being but
that it does so qua being in contrast with the way particular sciences treat
them. It is clear, then, that these genera will be treated by parts of metaphysics and also be the subjects of distinct sciences. So the parts of philosophy in
our passage are internal parts.
The chief problem with the passage is (C) how could there be as many parts
of philosophy as ousiai if one part, mathematics or its metaphysical counterpart,
treats quantities, not ousiai? Indeed, mathematics poses a special problem for
this passage: whether it is an internal part of metaphysics or an independent
science, its subject does not belong to the category of ousia, contrary to what
1004a23 seems to imply.
Several resolutions of this problem have been proposed or can be imagined.
Philip Merlan maintains that (1) this passage stems from a Platonic period of
Aristotles development and reflects what is, in effect, an Academic elements
doctrine according to which quantities and sensibles are ousiai that are derived
from being as such; later on, in 1, Aristotle identifies astronomy as the
mathematical science that deals with its own ousia.69 As interesting and clever
as this interpretation is, we ought to look for easier alternatives first. Another
answer that might be proposed is that (2) in this passage Aristotle speaks as
though mathematics treats an ousia because he thinks of it, along the lines of
67. At 1005a33b2 Aristotle identifies a science that is higher than physics because
it is universal and treats primary ousia: Physics is a wisdom, but not the first
wisdom.
68. Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria,245.2729 ascribes this reasoning to Aristotle.
69. 1004a23 is a key passage for Merlan, From Platonism to Neoplatonism,165, 16971,
60. Merlan is right that astronomy comes to stand in place, alongside metaphysics
and physics, as one of the theoretical sciences, in place of mathematics, and that
astronomy does treat an ousia, specifically, an ousia that is eternal but changing.
So it fits into Aristotles scheme nicely. However, there are other branches of
mathematics that also count as theoretical science, and Aristotle needs to account
for them as well.
343
M 3, as treating ousiai qua quantity (1078a2126). But this response founders

on the fact that the ousiai treated by mathematics are the same sensible ousiai
treated by physics, whereas 1004a23 implies that distinct parts of philosophy
treat distinct ousiai. Moreover, (2) is backward: to treat mathematicals as ousiai
is to treat quantities qua quantities, as we have seen, whereas to treat ousiai qua
quantities is to treat the quantities as attributes. Nor is it reasonable to suppose
that (3) Aristotle has temporarily forgotten about mathematics, for the appendix
goes on to compare philosophy to mathematics. Some readers assume that (4)
the ousiai are just two, eternal and sensible, and the sciences that treat them,
metaphysics and physics, are also two,70 as if mathematics were not a part of
philosophy. This is not supported by the text; indeed, it is not consistent with
1003a2226. The two remaining responses turn on the meaning of philosophy.
Someone might suppose that (5) if the parts of philosophy are the internal
parts of metaphysics, as I have claimed, then even though mathematics proper
treats quantities, the mathematical portion of metaphysics explores sensible
ousiai. But, again, there would not be as many parts of philosophy as ousiai
unless there is a distinct ousia for the mathematical part. Alternatively, (6)
if philosophy here refers not to metaphysics but to theoretical science in
general, as it perhaps does at E 1, 1026a1819, then mathematics would be an
independent theoretical science with its own subject matter that it treats as if
it were an ousia (M 3, 1078a1631; cf. De Anima A 1, 402a1116). Then, quantities
would be included in metaphysics, but as such rather than as ousiai. It is clear,
though, that if it is to be universal, metaphysics must include all ousiai, and
how it can do so without demonstrating all their per se attributes is part of the
fourth aporia. So if there are mathematical ousiai, they would need to belong
to metaphysics, but (6) locates them exclusively in mathematics rather than
metaphysics. In general, metaphysics would need to know all ousiai if it is to
determine which is primary. So whatever philosophy means, metaphysics
must consider all ousiai. In sum, none of the six proposals mentioned here is
able to eliminate the implication that metaphysics treats quantities as ousiai
or to explain adequately how it could do so.
All this is grist for my mill. I have proposed that when Aristotle identifies
ousia as the primary nature of being, he does not ascribe a determinate character
to it; ousia is simply the nature of being, whatever that nature turns out to be.
Moreover, each being has a nature as such, and its nature is its ousia. Insofar
as a being has an ousia, it is an ousia in the extremely broad sense according
to which anything with a nature is an ousia. In discussing argument two, I
referred to 1004a23 to propose that metaphysics treats all the genera of being
70. For example, Reale, The Concept of First Philosophy,120, 12425. Owens, Doctrine
of Being,27980, apparently agrees.
344
and that these are its parts. So it is entirely consistent with my interpretation
that 1004a23 implies that quantity constitutes an ousia that is the subject of
one part of metaphysics. Aristotle also assumes that quantities are ousiai when
he draws out the fourth aporiathe question whether all ousiai and all their
per se attributes belong to one sciencefor he says: If the solid is an ousia, and
also lines and planes . . . (B 2, 997a2728). We should not simply dismiss this
passage as reflecting a Platonic notion of mathematics. Aristotle thinks that the
subject of every science is an ousia or what is treated as an ousia and studied
through its nature (De Anima A 1, 402a1116; cf. 8 1017b2123). A science must
treat its subject as an ousia because it aims to demonstrate per se attributes that
belong to the subject in respect of its nature, and only ousiai have attributes
( 4, 1007b1117). Insofar as the scope of metaphysics includes all beings, it
should treat them all as the subject nature. Of course, whether this is possible
is still very much at issue. My point is only that if there is to be metaphysics,
it would need to be possible to know all beings through their nature, that is
qua being. So it is hardly problematic that Aristotle includes mathematicals
among the ousiai that are to fall within the scope of metaphysics.
What is of more interest is how these ousiai and all the others can belong
to a single science. The answer turns on there being a hierarchy of ousiai as
Aristotle goes on to explain in our passage. Because his reasoning is convoluted and obscure, it is best to begin by quoting the entire passage. I have
numbered its claims.
And [1] there are as many parts of philosophy as there are ousiai. So
that [2] there must be some first [part of philosophy] and something
following, for [3] being and one have genera immediately.71 Therefore,
[4] the sciences follow these [genera]. For [5] the philosopher is just like
the person called the mathematician. For [6] this latter science has parts,
and there is some first and second science, and other sciences follow
sequentially among mathematicals (1004a29).
The reasoning of the passage is unclear, but its conclusions are clear. One
conclusion is: [2] philosophy has a first part and parts that follow. A second
conclusion is: [4] the sciences follow the genera. There are four other assertions
here that somehow support them: [1] there are as many parts of philosophy
as there are ousiai; [3] being and one fall immediately into genera; [5] the
philosopher is like the mathematician; and [6] mathematics has a first part
71. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics,1:259, and Jaeger, OCT, ad loc., omit and one from
this sentence because they think the phrase should appear at 1003b22, a passage
that does not discuss one. Conversely, the presence of and one in the manuscripts
suggests that this passage ought not to appear earlier, at 1003b22.
345
and parts that follow in sequence. The passages grammar does not make
its logical structure clear: there are too many fors to be completely sure
what is supposed to justify what. Furthermore, although both [1] and [3]
seem to support [2], they also seem to be at odds because [1] speaks of ousiai
as if they were subjects of distinct parts of philosophy, whereas [3] speaks
of genera (of being or of one), from which we suppose that it is they, rather
than ousiai, that are the subjects of the parts of philosophy. There will be no
conflict here if we identify the ousiai with the genera of being, and we can do
this if every being is a kind of ousia, as I have been suggesting. Discussing
argument two, I proposed that metaphysics treats these genera qua being
by treating them as ousiai, that is, as having some nature. Again, Aristotle is
not presupposing the nature of ousia; he is letting ousia stand for this nature
in arguments that aim to find it. Let us return to [1] [3] after we examine
the last three propositions.
The clearest beginning of Aristotles argument in the passage is at its end. To
paraphrase, [5] philosophy is like mathematics, and [6] mathematics has parts
that are sequential, a first science of mathematics, a second, and so forth, and
these branch sciences are sequential in the same way that the mathematicals
themselves are. It follows from the analogy that philosophy has sequential
parts, a first philosophy, second, and so forth, and that these branch sciences
are sequential in the way that their subjects are. Further, we know that every
science has its own subject matter (one science knows one genus), and we
know (from argument two, 1003b1922) that [3] being falls immediately into
genera. Given the analogy with mathematics, it follows that the genera of
being are also sequential and that [4] the [specific] sciences that know these
genera will follow them in being sequential. So, propositions [3], [5], and [6]
work together to support [4].
We can now turn back to the opening of the passage. It is clear that since the
sciences that know the genera of being are sequential, we can infer that: [C]
there will be a first science that treats the first genus and subsequent sciences
that treat subsequent genera. [C] is almost the same as [2]. What it lacks is
the idea that these sciences are parts of philosophy because they treat a part
of its subject matter. And this idea must somehow come from [1], which has
not been used in the argument thus far.
Having come this far, we can see how to complete the argument, even if
we have trouble making sense of it. According to [1], there are as many parts
of philosophy as there are ousiai. Clearly, each part treats, or treats primarily,
one ousia. We know from the last part of the argument that because philosophy is like mathematics the genera of being are sequential and that [4] they
are treated by sequential sciences. These sequential sciences are clearly the
parts of philosophy, and the sequential genera must be the ousiai. Hence,
[2] there is a first part of philosophy and subsequent parts that come after it.
346
The first part of philosophy treats primary ousia, and subsequent parts the
ousiai that follow it.
This is a coherent and, we will see, compelling reconstruction of Aristotles
reasoning. It is interesting to note that ousia appears only at the logical end,
even if it is present from its rhetorical beginning. The argument might almost
have omitted it, but then the argument could not have served to loose the bond
of the third aporia, as it is widely acknowledged to do.72
One nice feature of the foregoing interpretation of the appendixs argument,
the feature that makes it compelling, is that it shows the appendix to draw
upon arguments two and three. Aristotle uses argument twos idea that being
has species that are treated by the science that treats it to speak of the parts
of philosophy in [1]. These species are the categorial genera that [3] declares
to be genera of being. That these genera are associated with the genera of
one, also expressed in [3], comes from argument three. Evidently, there are
sequential parts of both being and one. And these parts are, in turn, treated
by sequential particular sciences.
Are the genera of one necessary for the argument? If not, then the passage
does not rely on argument three and might be placed earlier in the text.73 I
think Aristotle uses the genera of one to make parts of metaphysics analogous
with the parts of mathematics. His argument assumes, without explaining
why, that the parts (or branches) of mathematics are hierarchical. We saw
earlier that arithmetic is more accurate than geometry because its object
is more one (A 2, 982a2528; see 3.1.2), and we saw that different quantities
have different degrees of unity: units are indivisible in all respects, the objects
of plane geometry are indivisible in some respects but divisible in others,
and the objects of solid geometry are even more divisible ( 6, 1016b2331).
Likely, it is the degrees of unity of these mathematical entities, what I earlier
called the quantitative series of ones (2.4), that Aristotle has in mind when
he speaks of the sequence of the parts of mathematics that treat them. The
first part of mathematics would treat what is indivisible in all respects, units;
successive parts treat plane figures and solids, each progressively less one.
72. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics,1:259, claims that the appendix answers the third
aporia. Reale, The Concept of First Philosophy,13637, and Owens, Doctrine of
Being,280, agree. In contrast, Apostle, Aristotles Metaphysics,272, locates the
solution in E1. According to Reale and Owens, the ousiai mentioned in 1004a23
are sensible and supersensible ousiai, and it is these that the appendix includes
in one science. They just ignore the claim in 1 that mathematics treats a part
of the subject of metaphysics. Apostle maintains that the ousiai in the appendix
are essences (p. 283 n17). Reale thinks that this latter is just the mistake that the
appendix is supposed to counter (p. 120); but I cannot see that he offers any arguments for this position.
73. See note 71.
347
By this reasoning, arithmetic would be the first part of mathematics, and it

would be followed by plane and solid geometry.
Just as parts of mathematics are hierarchical, so, too, Aristotle reasons, are
the parts of metaphysics. What justifies the comparison? The obvious link is
that the subjects of the parts of metaphysics are not just genera of being but
also genera of one. Just as the subjects of the parts of mathematics are ordered
by their degrees of unity, so the subject genera of the parts of metaphysics are
ordered by their degrees of unity. In the former case, the unity is quantitative. In the latter, it is qualitative. Thus, the part of metaphysics devoted to
the categorial genus of ousia studies objects that are the same, whereas the
part devoted to the genus of quality studies objects that are alike. Since to be
the same is to be identical, to be alike to be the same in some respects, and to
be equal to be one in only one way (I 3, 1054b313; 9, 1018a1517), the same
has a greater degree of unity and is, consequently, prior. The part of metaphysics that treats it is prior to the part that treats what is alike. Thus, like
the parts of mathematics, the parts of philosophy are hierarchically ordered
according to the degree of unity of their subjects. Since the genera of one are
necessary for the analogy, the passage under discussion draws on argument
three. Again, Aristotle seems to reason that just as mathematicals are more
or less one in respect of quantity and are treated by parts of mathematics that
are sequentially ordered beginning with that which treats what is most one,
so too the genera of being are, by virtue of their association with the genera
of one, more and less one in respect of quality and are treated by parts of philosophy sequentially ordered beginning with that which treats the genus (or
the ousia) that is most one.
As an argument, this reasoning is obviously extremely weak. Not only is it
based on a feeble analogy, but Aristotle has not even explained what the parts
of metaphysics are. He certainly has not proven that these parts are hierarchical. What we have here, I suggest, is Aristotle sketching in the briefest terms
a central metaphysical doctrine, the hierarchical organization of ousiai. The
passage is much like his account of being as pros hen in its brevity and failure
to justify the doctrine adequately. To extend the parallel, I suggest that our
passage is explaining how to resolve the third aporia and that Aristotle intends
to justify its doctrine, along with the assumptions made by arguments two
and three, by their unique ability to resolve this aporia. If this is right, then it
is important that Aristotle gives a minimal account of the hierarchy of ousiai:
he need present only the part of his account that is essential to resolving the
aporia and that will thereby be justified. A complete account of the hierarchy
would undermine his argument.
One important issue that is left open in Aristotles sketch is what the first
part of philosophy is and how it is primary. There is a similar ambiguity in
348
the parts of mathematics. If mathematics first part is first because its subject
is most one, arithmetic would be the first part of mathematics, and it would
be followed by plane and solid geometry, as I proposed earlier. Since all subsequent branches of mathematics use arithmetic, there are grounds to identify
it as universal mathematics (E 1, 1026a2527). However, many readers have
taken the latter to be, rather, the science of identities, measures, and proportions that belong to all branches of mathematics (M 3, 1077b1722; and An. Po.
A 5, 74a1725).74 (Euclids treatment of proportion in Elements V would be part
of this science.75) Analogously, if the first part of metaphysics has as its subject
what is most one, it treats the immaterial unmoved movers (cf. 8, 1074a3338).
In a famous and controversial passage, Aristotle claims that were there no
ousia besides composite natures, physics would be first philosophy; but since
there is immobile ousia, the science of it is prior and first philosophy, and it
is universal because it is primary (1026a2731). In other words, in treating
immobile ousia, first philosophy is treating the causes of all beings and, thereby,
treating everything universally. It is clear that the first part of metaphysics is
not the universal metaphysics that treats a universal of minimal content,
as it would be if it were analogous to what some take universal mathematics to be.76 There may, though, be a different sort of universal metaphysics.
There is no need to explain why arithmetic or universal mathematics applies
to all quantities, but it is unclear why the primary part of being, the unmoved
movers, applies to subsequent parts because Aristotles account in 69
elaborates their character without making clear how they belong universally
to everything else. We need to look elsewhere in the Metaphysics for this, and
our passage in may be a good candidate if Aristotle is suggesting here that,
74. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics,1:35657, reports Bonitzs view that arithmetic is
universal mathematics, but Ross thinks that it is inconsistent with arithmetics
existing alongside of geometry as a separate, more accurate branch of mathematics. Rosss own view that universal mathematics is distinct from any of the
parts is widely accepted. He notes the parallel between the problem of universal
mathematics and a universal science of being.
75. Sachs, Aristotles Metaphysics,111.
76. This is a principal thesis of Owens, Doctrine of Being,xxvi. Owens calls the question of ontology the question of being. He argues that metaphysics is purely
theology. Owens does not reject the sort of universal metaphysics that I am about
to propose, but he thinks that the account of how the unmoved movers are to be
understood as the source of being and ousia to sensibles is entirely lacking
from the text of the Metaphysics we have, pp. 46061. He appeals instead to De
Anima B (4, 415a26b7) for Aristotles account. In my view Aristotles accounts
of being in - and of ousia in the central books aim to account for their natures
through their causes and thereby serve the purpose Owens mentions, though in
a different way than he proposes.
349
as in mathematics, characteristics of the first part of metaphysics belong to

subsequent parts. My point is that, just as there is unclarity about what the
first part of mathematics is, there is unclarity about the relation of the first part
of metaphysics to subsequent parts. Aristotles analogy between mathematics
and metaphysics turns only on the hierarchical ordering of the parts and the
universality of the first part.
It is now clear how the appendix, 1004a29, draws upon and connects the
two preceding arguments to contend that the ousiai treated by metaphysics are
hierarchically ordered. Two questions remain. First, how does the appendix
resolve the third aporia? In other words, why does a hierarchical structure of
ousiai disable the threat that a metaphysics that included them all would risk
demonstrating all their per se attributes? Second, is Aristotle justified in relying
on a weak analogy with mathematics to endorse this structure?
We have seen that the appendix is asserting that each ousia is the subject
of a part of metaphysics. Insofar as metaphysics treats all the subjects treated
by its parts, all ousiai fall under one science. However, this conclusion does
not disable the assumption that generates the aporia.
At first glance, it would seem easy to avoid the conclusion that a science
of all ousiai must demonstrate all their attributes. If the science that studies
all ousiai knows their common generic nature, then it will be able to demonstrate only those attributes that belong to them in respect of this common
nature. It will not demonstrate the attributes that belong to specific types
of ousiai in respect of each ousias nature. These latter belong to the specific
sciences. Thus, the science of zoology does not cut into the territory of the
science of, say, primates because the former demonstrates only the per se
attributes of all animals, whereas the latter demonstrates per se attributes
peculiar to primates.
One problem with this approach to the aporia is that it depends on ousiai
having a common generic nature. In I 10, Aristotle argues that corruptibles and
incorruptibles must be other in genus. Hence, there is no nature common to
sensible and incorruptible ousiai and, consequently, no generic science of them.
Another potential problem with a generic science of all ousiai is that specific
sciences of different ousiai presuppose the possibility of differentiating the
genus into coordinate species. Differentiae cannot be instances of the genus,
but if all the genera of being were ousiai, as Aristotle seems to assume here,
there would be nothing outside the genus and, hence, no specific sciences.
The science of all ousiai would demonstrate all the per se attributes because it
would be the only science.
Even if these problems could be surmounted, a generic science of all ousiai
could not be metaphysics because it would not be the science of highest causes.
The nature of the genus would be a universal cause, but Aristotle argues that
350
the natures of its species are higher causes because they are more one (cf. B 3,
999a15). So one science could treat all ousiai generically without demonstrating all their per se attributes, but it would have to give up its claim to be metaphysics. On the other hand, if one science does know all ousiai more properly
through their indivisible species, along with all the causes and demonstrative
principles, then it would be able to demonstrate all their per se attributes, the
consequence Aristotle seeks to avoid.
Assuming that all ousiai are on the same level, whether they constitute a
genus or a collection of species, generates unacceptable consequences. It is
clear that the ousiai will need to be on different levels, some prior to others. A
science that treated only the highest ousia would not be metaphysics unless
it were also universal. What needs to be explained is why the highest ousia is
universal because it is primary. This is the problem of what I earlier called
universal metaphysics.
The key to resolving it is, I suggest, to understand the hierarchical parts of
mathematics to which Aristotle refers in order to explain the parts of metaphysics. The first part of mathematics treats quantities that are most one. All
quantities are measured with numbers (I 1, 1052b2024; 1053a1820); even
lengths are some number of feet, and polygons have some number of sides.
The per se attributes of numbers also belong to quantities that are measured
by numbers. Thus, the number of sides of a polygon can be odd or even. Plane
figures and solids each have their own per se attributes. Whereas the attributes
of prior parts of mathematics belong to the objects treated by posterior parts,
attributes of the latter objects do not belong to the objects of the prior parts,
except perhaps metaphorically (as in the geometrical arrangement of points
known as a gnomon). Thus, the part of mathematics that knows numbers
and their per se attributes knows some per se attributes of all quantities, but it
cannot know or, of course, demonstrate the attributes proper to subsequent
parts of mathematics. Hence, the part of mathematics that knows mathematicals that are most one, along with their per se attributes, will also know
mathematicals that are less one and demonstrate per se attributes that belong
to all mathematicals, but it will not generally be able to demonstrate all per se
attributes of all of them.
It is important that the first part of mathematics treat what is most one,
whatever that is. Imagine the reverse, the first parts treating the least one; a
complex, such as a solid figure, instead of number. Then, other mathematicals
could be demonstrated as its per se attributes: planes are per se attributes of
solids, lines per se attributes of triangles, and points per se attributes of lines
insofar as the former are contained within the latters definition (An. Po. A 4,
73a3437). Thus, if the science of a complex mathematical object were the first
part of mathematics, it might be able to demonstrate all the per se attributes of
351
all mathematicals. Aristotle avoids this outcome by the simple expedient of

making the first part of mathematics the quantity that is most one. He thereby
leaves room for other mathematical parts to demonstrate per se attributes of
quantities that are less one.
Since philosophy is analogous to mathematics in having a first part and parts
that followin both cases the priority is based upon degrees of unity, if my
analysis is correctphilosophy, too, can treat all ousiai without demonstrating
all their per se attributes. The first part of philosophy treats the ousia that is most
one, and the attributes that it demonstrates of this ousia belong to other ousiai. But
these latter also have their own per se attributes that do not belong to the primary
ousia. As in mathematicals, it is their lesser degree of unity that makes them
distinct from, dependent on, and known through the primary ousia. Thus, one
science can know all ousiai without demonstrating all their per se attributes.
If this is right, then the ousiai are organized into a hierarchy by their degrees
of unity. Aristotle rejects the Academic doctrines that would derive everything
from one and the dyad, nor would he accept later variations such as Plotinuss
doctrine of emanation. But at the same time he endorses, if my interpretation
is correct, the doctrine of degrees of unity upon which it is based. He uses the
one/many relation to order the parts of metaphysics, but not to generate them.
Just as arithmetic is more accurate than geometry, first philosophy is more
accurate than subsequent parts of philosophy because it follows from fewer
principles (A 2, 982a2528). It remains unclear, though, whether it is arithmetic
that, in knowing numbers, knows all quantities or whether we must say that
it is mathematics as a whole that knows all quantities through the primary
quantity. Likewise, is it the primary part of philosophy that, in knowing the
primary ousia, knows all ousiai, or must we say that it is the whole of philosophy
that somehow knows all ousiai through primary ousia insofar as it knows all
beings and all genera qua being? There is much that the analogy between
mathematics and metaphysics does not explain.
It is worth noting that the hierarchical structure that Aristotle imputes both
to ousiai and to the parts of metaphysics that treat them is not a pros hen. If
the first part of philosophy treated ousia, and subsequent parts treated what
is related to it, these latter parts would apparently not be treating ousiai. Nor
does Aristotle connect subsequent ousiai to primary ousia through their relations to it. According to Aristotles analogy here, an ousia is prior to another
ousia if it is more one. Our passage makes nothing of any causal connection
between ousiai, as Aristotle does elsewhere.77
77. See Owens, Doctrine of Being,27980. To bolster his interpretation Owens mentions Schweglers position that the appendix belongs immediately after the first
argument.
352
It is not, then, reasonable to read the pros hen doctrine into the appendix.
What we have, instead, is a functional account of the parts that does not elucidate either what they are or their connections with each other. If we take
Aristotles argument as it is presented to us, this vagueness is disturbing. We
would expect him to argue that the parts of philosophy are hierarchical by
telling us something about those parts and their relation to each other; we
would expect him to show that the parts of metaphysics do resemble those
of mathematics and to show in what the resemblance lies. Let me suggest
that, like the first argument of 2, the real force of the appendix lies not in
its ostensible conclusions but in the doctrines that it introduces to arrive at
them. Aristotles goal is to show how all ousiai can be treated by one science
without that sciences demonstrating all per se attributes. To achieve this goal
he assumes that the genera of being are ousiai and that the parts of philosophy resemble the parts of mathematics in being ordered by their degrees
of unity. That the ousiai constitute a hierarchical sequence is an immediate
consequence of these assumptions. That is to say, Aristotle assumes exactly
what he needs in order to show that philosophy has a hierarchical structure
that allows it to skirt the third aporia. Despite the explicit structure of the
argument, the real motivation for accepting these assumptions is just that
they allow us to resolve the third aporia. In other words, the doctrines that
arguments two and three and their appendix introduce to resolve the aporia
are, in effect, justified by their being able to resolve it. This is the reason that
Aristotle can leave so vague the relation the parts of metaphysics have to
the parts of mathematics and the relation philosophy has to its first part: he
need only assume as much about the parts and their relation as he needs to
resolve the aporia. Precise determinations about the parts are unnecessary for
this, and are therefore left open for subsequent inquiry. It is not that Aristotle
does not know what these parts and their relations are, but that the inquiry
has not yet fixed them. In general, the appendix uses the requirements for a
science of metaphysics to determine the nature of being and the science that
treats it. Aporiai two and three and the appendix determine crucial features
of metaphysics and its parts.
This, then, is the answer I propose to the second question raised earlier, the
question of Aristotles justification for relying on the analogy between mathematics and metaphysics to derive firm conclusions about metaphysics. This
assumed analogy must be right because only so is it possible to resolve the
third aporia. Likewise, what is determined here about being and ousia must hold
because no other structure of being could avoid this aporia. Aristotle does not
actually argue that his account of the parts of metaphysics is the only account
that avoids the third aporia. But we have seen, and rejected, some alternatives
here; such as, a generic science of being and a pros hen relation of the genera
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of being. Aristotles resolution of the aporia requires a complex set of doctrines

about being and unity that elucidate metaphysics and the particular sciences.
Although Aristotle does not show it to be the only way to resolve the aporia,
it is hard to imagine another, given the constraints any solution must satisfy.
If this solution to the aporia is unique, the assumptions its arguments draws
upon must be true.
Evidence of the hierarchical organization of the theoretical sciences that
emerges from our passage can be found in many other texts. It is clear when
Aristotle considers and rejects the claims of physics to be the first science
(3, 1005a33b2; E 1, 1026a2731) and when he shows the dependence of
mathematical entities on bodies (M 3, 1078a2130). No other passage reflects
his endorsement of a hierarchical structure of philosophy better than his
claim that first philosophy is universal because primary (E 1, 1026a2932).
Just as the parts of theoretical science are hierarchical, so too are the parts
of philosophy, that is, of metaphysics. Since metaphysics must include all
ousiai within its subject matter if it is to exist, and since the hierarchical
arrangement of ousiai allows all ousiai to be included within the one science
that knows the first ousia, this hierarchical structure makes metaphysics
possible. On the other hand, another consequence of this hierarchy is that
the science that knows the first ousia cannot demonstrate all the attributes
of subsequent ousiai. This inability of metaphysics to demonstrate the truths
of the lower sciences precludes both Platonic claims that all knowledge is
one and Neoplatonic schemes for the generation of lower levels from higher
ones. In this way, Aristotles account of the possibility of metaphysics also
preserves the possibility of particular sciences.

The next three arguments work together to resolve the fourth aporia, the problem of whether the science that studies all ousiai also studies all per se attributes.
What Aristotle needs to show is that metaphysics can treat all these attributes
without either demonstrating all of them or demonstrating ousiai: he needs to
show that a single science of all per se attributes is compatible with particular
sciences. These three arguments are especially difficult, and the details of my
account will be controversial. It is not that Aristotles reasoning is formally
problematic. The difficulty is with making sense of what he says, and this is
exacerbated by his using concepts here in ways that are uncharacteristic of his
other writings. The sixth argument, in particular, is widely taken to be one
he does not himself endorse; its role in resolving the aporia has been entirely
missed. Although there is no question that Aristotle answers the fourth aporia
354
in 2, scholars have not explained precisely where or precisely how, possibly

because they do not see what is at issue in the aporia.78
The first three arguments aim ostensibly to enlarge the scope of metaphysics
to include being, the species of being, one, and the species of one. The fourth
argument examines the opposites, especially the opposites of what Aristotle
earlier called the species of one (1003b3334). He argues that these oppositesother, unlike, and unequalas well as what is said in respect of them
or in respect of one and many are all included in the science previously
discussed, metaphysics (1004a1720). From this, he concludes that all the
ones and what are related to themhe must mean all the oppositesbelong
to one science (1004a2224).
Before drawing these conclusions, Aristotle discusses two types of opposites, privations and denials. Part of the text here may be corrupt,79 but the
main argument is clear. Its central idea is:
It belongs to one science to investigate denials and privations because of
its investigating, in both ways, the one of which the denial and privation
are (1004a1012).
Here one is not unity but a thing that is one. Hence, the claim is that the
science that investigates something that is one also treats this things denial
and privation because these latter are defined and understood through their
relation to the things unity (cf. 2, 1046b79). Just as the one is a thing,
its denial is another thing; indeed, it is any other thing that is not the thing
affirmed. And thing (or being) must be understood broadly to include not
only individuals but also species and any other universal. (Aristotles usage
is, thus, quite different from contemporary usage, where affirmation and
denial usually refer to sentences.) Since the species of one and the species of
being fall under one science (from arguments two and three) and since each
78. Schwegler, Die Metaphysik,3:155, and Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics,1:260, think
that the discussion of the fourth aporia begins at 1003b32 and extends to the end of
the chapter (but does not include 1004a29, a section that belongs after the second
argument). Neither explains how Aristotle avoids one demonstrative science of
all attributes. Reale, The Concept of First Philosophy,13738, and Suzanne Mansion,
Les Apories de la Mtaphysique Aristotlicienne,156, think that solution lies
in recognizing that being qua being is an ousia with its own attributes. As we will
see, this solves only part of the problem.
79. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics,1:25960, omits portions of 1004a1314; Apostle,
Aristotles Metaphysics,283 n. 21, also alters the text.
355
species is itself something one, the denials and privations of these species
should also fall under one science because they are defined through the species
of one. So, too, any sort of one in respect of which a denial or privation can be
defined will belong, with the denial and privation, to one science.
Even though the idea of the argument is clear, its details are murky, and
Aristotles text is confusing. He argues for including denials and privations
in metaphysics as follows:
For we say that something simply does not belong or that it does not
belong in some genus. Here [1] the differentia adds to the one that is
being denied, for the denial is the absence () of that [one]. But
[2] in the privation there is some underlying nature in respect of which
the privation is said ( )
(1004a1216).
What simply does not belong is the denial, whereas what does not belong
in some genus is the privation. Differentia in [1] should characterize the
denial; but we can infer from the preceding sentence that the thing and its
denial need not belong to some [one] genus, and we also know that a differentia divides a genus (I 3, 1054b2728). So it would seem wrong to speak
of a differentia that marks off a denial. Alexander claims that the differentia
here is simply not, obviously invoking an extended sense of differentia.80
Ross rejects this interpretation and supposes that [1] is actually speaking
about the privation and contrasting its differentia with the denial, which
has no differentia.81 This solution is worse than the ostensible problem, for it
would mean that Aristotle devotes all of his attention here to showing that
privations are treated by the one science that also treats the possessions and
none of his attention to showing that one science treats something and its
denial (1004a1011). But it is obvious that possession/privation fall under one
science because they belong to one genus, whereas it is highly problematic
that something and its denial do because they do not belong to the same
genus. What Aristotle needs to explain is why denials can be treated by one
science, and this is what the passage should be telling us. It would be strange
80. Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria,253.1021, suggests two similar
interpretations of the problematic line. According to the first, not is a differentia
that is added to the one, and signifies the absence of one; not one is, therefore,
true of all else because each thing lacks the one. According to the second, not
one is true of everything other than one [nature] because it is different from this
nature. Cf. Alexander of Aphrodisias, On Aristotles Metaphysics 4, trans. Arthur
Madigan (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1993),150, n. 137.
81. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics,1:25960. Kirwan and Sachs follow Ross in their
translations.
356
if Aristotle ignored this issue to make a pedestrian distinction between denials and privations, as Ross and others suppose.
Why, though, does Aristotle think that a denial falls to the same science
as what is denied, given that one science knows one genus? The denial of
X refers to every being that is not X. If X belongs to one genus or simply is a
genus, its denial, not-X, falls under multiple genera. Together, X and its denial
include all beings. Since, again, one science knows one genus, there should
not be one science of something and its denial, nor even of the denial alone.
On the other hand, since we have seen that there is one science that knows
all beings, there is one science that can know a thing and its denial. Since
argument one in 2 shows that all beings constitute a kind of genus that
is known by metaphysics, this science can also know a thing and its denial.
Given that metaphysics includes all beings, arguing that denials and privations are also included in it does not expand its scope. If such an argument
advances Aristotles inquiry, it must be because it shows something about the
way metaphysics can know some beings.
To see how metaphysics knows opposites, we need to reflect on Aristotles
remarks. He is clearly making a comparison between privations and denials. In the former, there is a common nature shared by everything in the
genus, and the genus is a kath hen. In the latter, there is also a genus, but it
is a pros hen genus and there is no nature common to all. But in both cases,
something one is contrasted with everything else in the genus. The difference
between the two lies in whether or not the genus includes all beings and,
consequently, whether the absence of the one thing, X, is complete or merely
in respect of some underlying nature (
1004a1516). The absence is complete in the case that there is nothing
in common between X and the totality of what belongs to its denial, what is
not-X; the absence is incomplete when the generic nature remains in common
between X and what is not-X.
In this context, Alexanders claim that the differentia mentioned in the text
is simply the not that is added to what is denied becomes more plausible. To
be sure, not is hardly a proper differentia, but then being is hardly a proper
genus. Since the denial of something is its absence, a denial is formed, just
as Alexander supposes, by adding not to what is denied, some one nature,
X. This addition signifies every other being besides X. It could not refer to
the complete absence of X, for that would be absolute non-being. Earlier in ,
illustrating the ways that other beings are related to ousia, Aristotle had said
that a denial is a being because it is a denial of an ousia or of something that
is said in relation to an ousia (1003b910). That is to say, a denial is always the
absence of something, and it must be understood in respect of that thing.
Aristotles point in the present passage seems to be that the same science
357
that knows a being will also know what is said from or without it, and
its denial is such a relation to it.82 Even though this denial extends to every
other being, when we know it, we are really knowing something about the
nature that is denied.
The privation is, likewise, known through one nature. From [2] this nature
is apparently the genus, and the privation seems to be, like the not, a differentia that belongs to it. In this way, the one through which privation is
defined resembles the one nature that is denied, and both are treated as if
they were somehow attributes of a genus. As such, both are known by the
one science that knows the genus. However, more often, and more properly,
Aristotle understands privation in respect of a species; a privation of a species
is another species in the genus. There is another passage, later in , where he
seems to speak of privation in respect of both genus and species. He claims
that one of a pair of contraries is a privation of ousia (that is, of the species
form), and privation is a denial from some determinate genus (
,
6, 1011b1820; cf. 1004a1516).
Since the privation will be treated by the one science that knows the genus,
since privation is just a denial of some species form in a determinate genus,
and since both species and privation are known as the negation derived from
some one substrate, both will be known by the one science that knows the
substrate. Central to this conclusion is the claim that both of these opposites
are known in respect of something one.
This interpretation explains Aristotles claim here that many is the opposite of onerepeated in the manuscripts before and after the passage just
discussed (1004a10; a1617). We might have supposed this superfluous or
out of place (cf. I 6, 1056b2325); 83 but, in this context, it must be an assertion
that the opposites are pluralities, defined in respect of what is one. (He has
discussed two types of opposites, privation and denial; there are two others,
contrariety and relation.) At first glance, Aristotle would seem to reason that
since what is one belongs to a single science, the opposites defined in respect
82. There is a pun contained in 1004a1415. Aristotle asserts that a denial ()
is the absence () of one nature but that it is known through this one
nature. The one nature is an ousia, and the preposition can mean without.
So the denial is known through this nature as its absence (). The term
for absence signifies its relation to the ousia that is absent.
Inasmuch as there can be a denial of any being, each being should be a sort of
ousia in order to have an absence (ap-ousia). Indeed, each being is a sort of ousia
by virtue of possessing, somehow, the nature of being.
83. The terms that Aristotle goes on to discuss hereother, unlike, and unequalare,
he thinks, species of many; their opposites are species of one (cf. 15, 1021a1012;
I 3, 1054a2932).
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of one also fall under a single science. Thus, he concludes that the opposites
of what was discussed earlier, namely, other, unlike, and unequal, belong to
metaphysics (1004a1720).
It is, however, illegitimate to derive a conclusion about all opposites from a
discussion of only two. This omission is of particular concern because the opposites in the conclusion, other, unlike, and, unequal are contraries of the species of
one, namely, same, like, and equal (1003b3336), and contrariety is among the
opposites he omitted. How, then, can he draw a conclusion about contraries?
Perhaps Aristotle is relying on the idea he articulates elsewhere that contraries are
instances of possession/privation (6, 1011b1819; I 3, 1054a2026; 4, 1055b2627).
Thus, contraries would also fall under the one/plurality opposition and belong
in the science that treats what is one. However, even though contraries are easily
included among opposites, it is hard to see why Aristotle would be arguing here
for including them in one science; for he had assumed that one science knows
contraries in book B (2, 996a2021). To refer implicitly to privation to include
contraries is to use the obscure to support the more apparent.
There are at least three more puzzles here. First, this argument is preceded
by an additional assumption that is problematic. Our passage opens: Since
it belongs to one [science] to study the opposites . . . (1004a910). As I said
earlier, this claim is not true in general because denials do not fall under the
one science that knows a things (kath hen) genus. In any case, it requires
argument, yet Aristotle says nothing here about two kinds of opposites,
contraries and relatives ( 10, 1018a2022; 84 I 4, 1055a38b1; I 3, 1054a2326;
Cat. 10, 11b1719). Second, if Aristotle does assume that one science studies
opposites, then what seems to be the overall conclusion of argument four, that
one science studies the contraries of the species of one (1004a1720), follows
trivially because contraries are opposites. Thus, the assumption that opposites
fall under one science would obviate the need to define contrariety through
one and to include what is contrary to the species of one in the science that
knows one and its species. A third difficulty was mentioned earlier: given
that we know, before argument four, that all beings come under the scope of
metaphysics and that the species of being and one are included among beings,
what could this argument actually add to metaphysics? The opposites are
already included within metaphysics by previous arguments.
These puzzles suggest that the passage needs to be reconceived. The most
puzzling problem is how the opening clause, Since it belongs to one [science]
to study the opposites, could serve as a premise. It is immediately followed
84. This passage also mentions a fifth opposite, the extremes of generation and corruption. In general opposites cannot be present together in something capable
of receiving them separately (1018a2224).
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by the claim that plurality is the opposite of one (1004a10), and then the passage distinguishing denial and privation that I quoted and discussed above
(1004a1016). This latter appears to be an intrusion into the argument, as Jaeger
indicates by bracketing it in his text; for the thread picks up again at 1004a1617
by the repetition of the claim that plurality is the opposite of one. This last is,
in turn, followed by what appears to be argument fours conclusion:
So that the opposites of what was discussed earlierother, unlike,
unequaland as many others as are said in respect of these or in respect
of plurality and one (
) belong to the science discussed earlier (1004a1720).
Argument fours opening clause differs from this passage in that it claims that
one science studies the opposites, whereas the apparent conclusion states that
studying particular opposites, the contraries of the species of one, belongs to the
science discussed earlier, that is, to metaphysics. Perhaps, the argument goes
like this: All the opposites fall under one science. Plurality is the opposite of
one. We know from the previous argument that the science that treats one also
treats the kinds of one, its species. We also know that the opposites to these
species are species of plurality. Hence, the science that treats one must treat
not only its opposite, plurality, but also all the species of plurality and all that
is said in respect of any of these or in respect of plurality and one.
According to this interpretation the argument begins from the initial
assumption that one science treats opposites and shows that the science treats
a specific opposite, the contraries of the species of one. This is a non-trivial
result. However, there are serious objections. First, the argument does not use
the initial assumption that one science knows opposites (1004a910). Although
it provides a specification of this assumption, it would work without it. And,
as I said, the opening assumption itself needs support. Further, the conclusion at 1004a1720 (quoted above) does not include all the opposites in one
science as we might have thought. It claims that the species of one and their
contraries, the species of plurality, belong to one science, along with what is
said in respect of them or of one or plurality. We might suppose, from the
previous lines of the text, that privation and denial are said in respect of
one, but this is a technical phrase that indicates a proper attribute. Aristotle
claims that same, like, and equal are said in respect of one ( 15, 1021a1014).
Denial and privation are said in relation to a one rather than in respect
of a one. Furthermore, Aristotle goes on later in the passage to distinguish
what is said in respect of from what is said in relation to and to claim that
the latter, too, fall to one science (1004a2425). It must, then, be later in this
passage that we get the conclusion that all opposites fall under one science,
360
a claim that Aristotle states initially as an assumption. Indeed, there are two
later sentences that begin with so that () (1004a22; a28); either could
express the conclusion to be drawn from the assumption enunciated in the
initial since () clause (1004a910).
What, then, are we to make of 1004a1720? It is a sub-argument showing
that the contraries to the species of one, species of plurality, all belong to the
same science that treats the species of one. We saw in argument three that
the species of one are treated by metaphysics. Aristotle now says that since
plurality is opposite to one, what is opposite to the species of one, that is, the
corresponding species of pluralityother, unlike, and so forthare also
treated by the science discussed earlier. Since the species of one and the
species of plurality are contraries to each other, and since contraries are one
type of opposites, we might suppose that Aristotles aim is to support what
is presented initially as an assumption, that opposites are treated by one
science. In that case, 1004a1720 would work together with the preceding
lines to show that three of the four kinds of oppositesprivation, denial and
contrariesfall under one science. But Aristotle does not really need to argue
this because it is his standard assumption that contraries are known by one
science (B 2, 996a2021), as I noted. Anyway, 1004a1720 does not show that
all contraries are treated by one science but that the contraries to the species
of one are. But, then, why would Aristotle need to argue this if he assumes
that contraries always fall under one science?
The key to understanding argument four is that all the opposites are ways in
which one and plurality are opposed to each other. We have seen that Aristotle
discusses two types of opposites, privation and denial, and shows each to be
understood through something that is one. The point of 1004a1720 is that the
contraries to the species of one must also be understood through ones; that is,
other, unlike, and so forth are each grasped in respect of a kind of one. Each
is a kind of plurality, known through a one. In this way, Aristotle brings the
third type of opposite under the general analysis that he uses for privation
and denial: he understands all through the opposition of one and many. He
still needs to discuss the fourth kind of opposition, relatives.
He discusses relatives in most of the rest of our passage (1004a2231), but
first he treats contrariety in a brief, and surprising, passage that immediately
follows the conclusion about contraries of the species of one:
Among these [things included in the science] is contrariety; for contrariety
is some differentia, and the differentia is an otherness (1004a2022).
Since other is included in our science, and the differentia is an otherness within
a genus, the differentia is also included; since contrariety is some particular
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differentia (or difference) within a genus, it, too, is included. Aristotle is using
the conclusion that the species of one and its contraries belong to metaphysics in
order to argue that contrariety belongs to metaphysics, but this seems backward
because, as I said, he needs to know that contraries do indeed belong to one science before he can draw the conclusion that the contraries of one belong to metaphysics. However, we need to distinguish between contraries and contrariety.
Contraries are opposites in a genus, but contrariety, as Aristotle uses the term
here refers, surprisingly, to a single differentia of a genus. This differentia marks
the greatest difference in the genus. In the genus of color, for example, there are
two differentiae that define, respectively, white and black, the two species that
differ most in this genus. The differentia that defines white is the positive differentia that Aristotle is identifying here as contrariety within this genus. The
other differentia, its contrary, defines the privative species. Within each genus,
there is at least one differentia with the special status of being the contrariety.
All of this is based upon Aristotles more elaborate discussion in Book I.85 What
he mentions there, but not here, is that white and each such species defined by
the contrariety in its genus is the one in the genus and that all other species
in the genus are somehow composed of what is one (I 2, 1053b281054a9). The
one in a genus is a single nature in respect of which other species of the genus
are defined. Perhaps because it appears in the generally neglected book I, this
doctrine is not as well-known as it should be.86 Aristotle does not presuppose it
here in when he locates contrariety as a differentia, but understanding it motivates this move. He is identifying the one in respect of which all the contraries
in the genus are defined; for the differentiae of all other colors are more or less
contrary to that of white, and the differentia of black is most contrary to it. In
general, within each genus there is a one, a specific nature defined by a special
differentia, in respect of which the contraries are known. Thus, contraries, too,
like privations and denials, are defined through their relation to some single
nature in each genus.
In the quoted passage, Aristotle works backwards: he starts from the other,
the contrary of the same, and identifies the differentia as an othernessit
is an otherness in a genusand then locates the contrariety as a particular
differentia that must be included in metaphysics along with other contraries. Ontologically, though, it is the differentia or the species it defines that is
one and, therefore, prior. It is a one in respect of which otherness and all
contraries (within a genus) should be defined. At the end of argument three,
85. In Book I Aristotle argues that possession and privation are the primary contrariety (4, 1055a33), that a differentia is an otherness (8, 1058a67), and that
contrariety is the greatest difference in the genus (1055a35). See Ross, Aristotles
Metaphysics,1:260.
86. See, Halper, Aristotles Paradigmatism.
362
Aristotle claimed that nearly all the contraries are led back to same, like,
and the other species of one (1003b361004a1). As I have now explained it, our
passage leads these contraries back to contrariety, a kind of other. However,
contrariety here is not a single thing; it refers to some nature that is one in each
genus. By itself, a contrariety (in a genus) is a differentia that defines a species
that is one, but argument four emphasizes its being otherthat is, other than
the other speciespresumably because it is concerned with the opposites.
That is to say, same and other can be defined in each genus by the relation of
the one in the genus to itself or to other species. And, in general, contraries
are defined and understood through this one, though Aristotle does not say
so here. If this is right, then, again, contraries resemble privations and denials
in being defined through some one nature. However, they differ inasmuch
as the differentia is a principle of form, whereas the one in relation to which
privation and denial are defined is a substrate.
Since the one in relation to which an opposite is understood can be a formal
or a material principle, we need to ask whether argument four aims to include
in metaphysics (a) all the various natures that are one and the natures that
are opposite to them or (b) something more universal, namely, the classes of
opposites, the contraries of the species of one, and contrariety in general. The
former is a possibility because we need both material and formal dimensions
of individual natures as the ones in relation to which opposites are defined.
However, Aristotle has already included all beings in metaphysics. What is new
in argument four is that those beings divide into opposites in various ways; that
is, (b). Aristotle is including these oppositions and the structural components of
being that they presuppose within the scope of metaphysics on the ground that
they can be traced to natures that are each one. That being has these structures,
that it has genera, differentiae, and species with opposites, is an important
ontological claim. Aristotle seems to have slipped it in, covertly, without argument. On what ground does he assert that there are others, differentiae, and
contrarieties? Or to put the question differently, it is not useful to show that
various opposites can be defined through ones unless there are such opposites,
but how does Aristotle show that these oppositions exist? This is not, of course,
to ask why there is anything at all, but to ask why the totality of being has the
structures of oppositions that he defines as relations to something one.
Let us return to this question after we consider the rest of argument four.
We have seen that its first lines contain two apparent assumptions that are
followed by brief discussions of three of the four opposites. We expect some
discussion of the fourth opposite, relatives, and a conclusion. Indeed, since
privation, denial, and contrary are each understood in relation to some one
nature, they all seem to be relatives of some sort. The remainder of the present
passage, divided into assertions, is the following:
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So that since [A] one is said in many ways, and [B] these latter will be
also said in many ways, nevertheless [C] all are known by one science;
for [they are] not [known by] different [sciences] if they are said in many
ways, but if their formulae refer neither in respect of one (kath hen) nor
in relation to one thing (pros hen). Since [D] all are referred to what is
primary (as, for example, those that are one are said in relation to the
primary one [ ]), it is necessary to say [E] the same holds
of same, other, and the contraries.87 So that after going through how
many ways each term is said, [F] it is necessary to explain how it is said
in relation to what is primary in each category; 88 [G] for some will be
called by this term by having this [primary being], others by making it,
and others in respect of other such ways (1004a2231).
This passage describes a pros hen, but not one of the simple sort like healthy or
being. Here there are two levels. On the first level [A], there is one and what
is related to one, and on the second level [B] there are all the things related
to what is related to one, that is, all the things related to what is on the first
87. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,4, translates this sentence as
follows:
Since everything is connected to that which is primary (as for instance,
anything called one to the primary oneand the same can be asserted
to hold of the same and other and contraries), it follows that after dividing
the number of ways in which each thing may be called [what it is] . . . .
He includes Aristotles remark about same, other, and the contraries as examples
that, like one, have primary instances to which secondary instances are related,
and he supposes the consequence to be stated at 1004a28 () and to counsel
working through the different ways things are related to what is primary. On this
approach, the passage makes no reference to same, other, and contraries as related
to primary one; but the question of their connection with primary one does not
go away. Even on this reading, we need to suppose a two-tiered structure. Indeed,
Kirwans reading may work better with the two-tiered structure than the more
traditional reading I adopt. However, Kirwan (p. 84) takes the passage to assert the
necessity to find, for each predicate, the primary instance and the various relations
to it, a task Aristotle undertakes in book . The issue is why all these discussions
would fall under one science of metaphysics. To include them all, Aristotle needs
to say something about how the predicates are connected with each other. Kirwan
clearly does not see such a connection in the passage; he seems to see Aristotle as
arguing, again, that a pros hen is known in a single science and as ignoring the
question of how the various predicates are connected with each other.
88. Most scholars take to mean predicate; see, for example, Ross, Aristotles
Metaphysics, 1:260. I think its usual sense is appropriate here because of Aristotles
earlier association of the species of being, the categorial genera, with the species
of one. He refers indirectly to the latter when he mentions same, other, and the
contraries in the preceding sentence.
364
level. Each level is pros hen; we could call the whole structure a two-level
pros hen. The hen on the first level is identified as the primary one [D], and
what appears to be the hen of the second level includes same, other, and the
contraries. Evidently, these latter are taken to be among what is related to
the primary one, and each is, in turn, a primary nature to which others are
related. The conclusion is that [C] everything directly or indirectly related to
the primary one is included in the science that treats it.
What is this primary one to which all are claimed to be related? Our first
thought is that it must be the primary being, ousia; for, since ousia is the hen
to which all beings are related, we know that it is one. But here there is not just
an ousia and what is related to it, but that additional element of structure, what
is related to what is related to primary one. Perhaps this does not exclude ousia
as a candidate for primary one, but the relations here are more complex.
Since the context of our passage is the opposites, it is more likely that primary one is the one to which Aristotle links the opposites here. Privation,
denial, and contraries are each defined in respect of some one. As we saw,
plurality is opposite to the one (1004a10, a1617), both denial and privation
are defined through a one (1004a12, a1516), and there is a one through which
Aristotle speaks of contrariety, difference, and otherness (1004a2022). These
need not be the same one. Indeed, we saw that the one in respect of which
privation and denial are defined is generic, whereas the one that characterizes
contrariety is the differentia or form. In this way, there is no single primary
one, but the phrase here refers collectively to the ones through which opposites
are defined, much as the same phrase refers collectively to what is primary in
each schema of ones at 6, 1016b811 (see 2.2.6).89 If this is right, then the many
ways primary one is said are the many ones in respect of which opposites are
defined, and what is related to these ones are the opposites. Thus, primary one
and its opposite are: a one and a complete absence of this one (denial); a one
said in respect of a genus and the absence of this one in the genus (privation);
and, third, the ones that are the species of one and their contraries, the species
of plurality.90 The species of one are things whose ousia, quality, quantity, or
some other categorial character is one (same, like, equal), and the contraries of
89. There may be a stronger connection between these passages. The primary ones
in 6 are continuity, sensible substrate, and form. The ones whose opposites
Aristotle considers are either generic or formal.
90. The second part of Platos Parmenides explores a variety of apparent opposites to
one that include: non-being, having parts, otherness, and plurality. The variety
of opposites is not the only theme in this rich dialogue, but it is one that is often
overlooked. Aristotle includes all the opposites under pluralitys opposition to
one (1004a10, a1617); surprisingly, the relative seems to be a type of opposite that
is characterized in the same way as its genus.
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these are pluralities in respect of these categorial characters ( 15, 1021a1014).

Then, what is related to what is related to the primary one would be what
is related to these opposites, and Aristotle spells these out in [G]: what has
the opposites, makes the opposites, or is related to them in some other way.
Following this thought through, we can see that the reference to finding what
is primary in each category [F] probably refers to the categorial genera where
same, like, equal and their contraries are located.
In short, the final portion of our passage includes in one science everything
that is defined in respect of or in relation to something one on the ground that
the same science that treats what is one would treat what is connected with
it. The connections are, again: privation, denial, and contrariety. As I have
suggested and is now clear, these connections are all being assimilated here
to the fourth type of opposite, relations. A plurality, for example, is counted
as many in relation to some one that is a unit. And this plurality is known
through the unity. So, too, all the other opposites are known through that one
in relation to which they are defined and, thereby, included in the science that
knows that one, the science of metaphysics. In this way, Aristotle is including
in metaphysics instances of all four opposites.
He cannot, however, include all instances of all opposites by this reasoning because not all relatives are said in relation to something one. Some
are accidental ( 15, 1021b311), others are relative because something else
is related to them, and others are through action and passion (1021a1426).
These are not known at all or not known by metaphysics as opposites but in
some other way. However, relying on the one/many relation, Aristotle is able
to include opposites in metaphysics, and that means not just the things that
are oppositesthey are all beings and we already know that they belong to
metaphysicsbut opposition and contrariety itself. To talk about the opposites
and contraries is to cross beyond the boundaries of a single categorial genus.
Even if an opposition is wholly contained within a genus, metaphysics is concerned with this type of opposition in any genus, and this degree of generality
requires a special justification. To say, for example, that there is contrariety
in every genus is to make a claim that does not belong to any genus or that,
rather, belongs to every genus. It can only be made in metaphysics.
Since metaphysics knows all the kinds of opposition through their relation
to what is one, it is clear that it also knows what is one. We saw in argument
three that whatever is is also one, because one and being are consequences
of a nature. A being that is one is also ousia in that extremely broad sense in
which ousia extends to every being. Thus, importantly, the primary one in
respect of which opposites are defined should be identified as ousia. But ousia
still needs to be qualified, for the ousia that is denied is one substrate, whereas
the ousia that is deprived is one in formula and its privation shares its genus.
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So different senses of ousia are involved with different opposites. However,

what is important here is that the opposites depend upon ousia in some way;
as such, they are attributes of some sort, and to include them in metaphysics is
to include per se attributes whose presence in the subject matter of metaphysics
the fourth aporia calls into question.
Just how are the opposites attributes? There are only suggestions of a partial answer here though the next two arguments address the question more
fully. The suggestions lie in Aristotles seemingly unnecessary reference to
contrariety, his mention of same, other, and the opposites as related to one, and
his final reference to what has, makes, or is called by some primary instance.
Recall that the contrariety in the genus is the differentia that, with its privation, marks the greatest difference in the genus. This differentia defines a
species that is qualitatively one in the genus, and through this differentia and
its contrary all other differentiae in the genus are defined.91 This differentia,
or some degree of it, is a per se attribute of every species in the genus, even
the privative species, because it belongs to all their definitions. It belongs to
the first class of per se attributes that the Posterior Analytics distinguishes (4,
73a3437), attributes that belong to a things essential nature. Through this
differentia every instance of the genus has an essential nature, and anything
with an essential nature is an ousia in that broad sense that seems to be in
play here. And the ousia will be and be one. So, again, any ousia is a primary
one in respect of which opposites are defined in different ways.
These opposites are related to what is a primary one, and they do not
belong to the first class of per se attributes. What is the same or other is so as a
kind of one that is somethings nature or in relation to this kind of one. (Same,
other and the other species of one and plurality are not independent of the
nature that is the same or other: two natures are never the same simpliciter but
the same man, the same color, and so forth.) Similarly, all that has, makes, or
is related to the essential nature, that is, to the ultimate differentia that defines
what something is, are either related to this primary one or are related to what
is related to the primary one. For example, two things are other in respect of
their respective natures, the one nature being related as other to the nature
that is primary; whereas the maker or efficient cause of the second nature is
related to it, and it is, in turn, related to the primary nature. Again, to cause
otherness is to depend, indirectly, on the nature to which what is caused is
other. These direct and indirect relatives are also per se attributes of the one
ousia to which they are related. They belong among the per se attributes of the
Posterior Analytics second class: they are per se in the sense that their definitions include that of which they are attributes (73a37b5).
91. See my discussion of I 2 in Aristotles Paradigmatism.
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Aristotles text gives us only a hint that his terse comments are meant to
contribute toward resolving aporia four, and he does not spell out here, in argument four, how they do so. This hint is contained in the next line of his text:
It is clear, then, that it belongs to one science to have an account of these
and of ousiaand this was among the aporiai (1004a3134).
These must be the per se attributes, but there is some ambiguity whether this
passage refers to what precedes, argument four, or points forward to argument
five or, as I think, both. In any case, argument four does not include all the
attributes in metaphysics; Aristotle relies on arguments five and six, together
with four, to resolve aporia four, as we will see.
The per se attributes mentioned in argument four recall an obscure aporia
raised in book B:
Who will investigate same, other, like, contrariety, unlike, prior, and
posterior, and all the others of this sort concerning which the dialecticians strive to consider beginning their investigations only from common
assumptions (995b2025)?
This passage appears in B 1 immediately after Aristotle states the fourth aporiaor, according to the ordering of B 1, the fifth aporia. He does not mention
this subject again in B 2s exposition. We can now see that same, other, like,
contrariety, unlike are per se attributes of ousia, and that argument four justifies including them in metaphysics. The ousia to which these attributes belong
extends so broadly that these attributes can belong to all beings. Argument
four does not justify including prior and posterior in metaphysics; some per
se attributes must be included on other grounds.
One puzzle in argument four is Aristotles reference to what is called one
by relation to primary one (1004a2526). Since the primary one is itself one,
anything related to it would be different from it and, thereby, not one but some
sort of plurality! In other words, being related to what is one should make
something a plurality rather than one. Having a relation to primary being does
not pose the same sort of problem: something is a being because it inheres in
a primary being, causes a primary being, or through some other relation to
primary being. Because the primary being is self-subsistent (in some sense),
it explains the being of anything attached to it. A primary one, on the other
hand, does not make something that belongs to it one; it makes the complex of
itself and the other thing a plurality or, to the extent the other has no existence
apart from a primary one, it makes the other less than one. The exception
may be the form that unifies a matter into an ousia; but then, once unified,
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matter is no longer related to the form. A man could make musicianship one
with himself, or he could be made into one musician by his musical ability.
But, in such cases, there is still no causal connection in which something one
makes another one by being itself one. Instead, something becomes one by
inhering in what is because that makes it be, and whatever is is also one. So,
although it is true that what inheres in a primary one is called one because
of its relation to this primary one, this is so only because primary one is also
a being, not because primary one is one.
This secondary status of unity may explain why Aristotle discusses contrariety in this argument. As I said, contrariety is defined by the primary
differentia in a genus. This differentia together with its genus constitute
the species that he identifies as the one of that genus. It is in respect of or in
relation to this one that other ones, such as same and other, are defined. It is
important that the one defined by the differentia is a nature within a genus.
Aristotles reference to the primary one might suggest to the casual reader a
Platonic or Parmenidean one itself, but Aristotle means not a separate nature
but some single instance of a genus or, more generally, he refers collectively
to the one in each genus.
This account goes well beyond what we find in Aristotles brief argument.
I am drawing on what appears later in the Metaphysics in book I, as well as
elsewhere, to interpret the passage. It is important to realize how little Aristotle
really explains here. His main aim is to trace all the opposites to something one
so that he can include them in the science that treats the one. Insofar as these
opposites are per se attributes, they can be treated by one science. But we cannot
have attributes without an ousia to which they belong, and this must be the one
in relation to which they are defined. It is not that we know what ousia is and
can, therefore, talk about its attributes. Rather, we discover something about
ousia by considering the opposites. We discover that ousia has a nature that can
be denied, deprived, and have a differentia with a contrary. We can also see the
kind of attributes that extend beyond the bounds of a single genus. But ousia still
does not have here any determinate character. The whole discussion is carried
on at a level of abstraction that allows Aristotle to derive a conclusion without
actually explaining what entity he is talking about. Or, better, this abstract treatment of the opposites helps to explain and determine the beings that constitute
the subject matter of metaphysics. Any of these beings is an ousia because it has
its own nature, not because it is one of the categorial ousiai that, as causally prior,
are ultimately of more concern to this science. I have gone beyond Aristotles
text in order to suggest that the characteristics of ousia in this broad sense that
emerge here do have some place in his larger philosophy.
Let us now return to the argument as it appears in the text and construe it as
a whole in its context. Then we must consider what follows from it. Although
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Aristotles argument begins by announcing that since one science knows

opposites (1004a910), this claim needs support. We have now seen how
Aristotle makes a case for it by considering each of the four oppositesdenial
(1004a1015), privation (1004a1516), the contrary species of one and of plurality
(1004a1620), and as much of the class of relatives as are related to something
one (1004a2431). The conclusion of the passage and the consequence of the
opening since clause is not the sentence introduced by at 1004a1720,
but the sentence introduced with this term at 1004a2224, that all the many
ways one is said fall under one science. Editors usually excise the claim plurality is the opposite to the one ( ) at 1004a1617
because it appears a few lines earlier, at 1004a10. But it would seem to fit best
at 1004a1617 because it is from it that Aristotle infers () that the contrary
species of one and of plurality belong to one science in 1004a1720. If the phrase
must be excised, it would be better to excise it from 1004a10; but on the whole
it is probably best to leave it in both places because its first occurrence also
plays a role in the overall argument of the passage.
This argument is now relatively simple: (1) opposites are treated by one
science; (2) plurality is the opposite of one; hence, (3) there is one science that
treats one and all its opposites. But these claims are interwoven with a complex
array of other claims that support and explain them. First, (4) there are many
ways of being one. These include being same, like, or equal, that is, the species
of one, but also being an ousia or nature that can be denied or deprived. (5)
Each of these ways one is said is related to a primary one (1004a26), a one
that I have identified with the species defined by the differentia that Aristotle
calls the contrariety (1004a2122). Then, (6) what is related to the primary ones
are themselves said in many ways. All of these multiple ways will be related
to what is related to a primary one and, so, themselves related to a primary
one. Among these things related directly or indirectly to primary one are the
opposites, all of which are pluralities of some sort. So when Aristotle says that
(2) plurality is the opposite of one, he has in mind the enormously complex
relations between the different types of one and the large variety that come
under the rubric plurality. Likewise, his claim that (1) opposites are known
by one science is supported by his assimilating the different types of opposites to one/many relations. Again, denial is the complete absence of a one,
privation a partial absence and presence, contraries (at least, those included
here) are oppositions between species of one and species of plurality, and all
these, along with any connection with a primary instance, count as relations.
Thus, the reasoning supporting (1) also supports (2) and vice versa. Aristotle
states the conclusion (3) not as I have here but by saying that one science treats
all the many things said to be one and the many ways each of those many
things are said (1004a2224). To grasp this formulation we need to rely on
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what he offers as a reason for it, namely, that what is pros hen also falls to one
science and that one and what is related to it are both pros hen. The passage
ends with what I take to be a restatement and explication of the conclusion,
an injunction to go through each way a thing is said and to show its relation
to a primary one.
All this is a lot to get from Aristotles text. What makes it difficult is the
way the assumptions are interwoven with each other. But this is also what
makes the passage coherent and intelligible. Moreover, this interpretation fits
well with a text that is difficult to construe however we read it. The argument
that I think Aristotle is offering here contributes towards resolving aporia
four, and this result supports my interpretation. It is noteworthy that argument four does not identify or elaborate on its key concepts: nature, primary
one, the many ways one is said being themselves said in many ways. This
omission does not count against my interpretation; it supports it. As in the
three previous arguments, Aristotle sketches a kind of structure of beings and
shows that it could be known by one science without elaborating the details
of the structure. Here the structure is the opposites that are all understood as
relations to something one or to something that is itself related to something
one. It is not that Aristotle knows or even assumes this to be the structure of
being. He is, I submit, arguing for the structure.
To see this, we can ask, what does argument four add to the subject matter of
metaphysics? Since it was clear from argument one that metaphysics treats everything, no new beings are added to its scope here. What is added is the structure.
Every being has one nature in respect of which, or in respect of some aspect of
which, different sorts of opposites can be defined and, thereby, known by the
science that knows the one. These opposites are some of the per se attributes that
belong to being. They can be known by the science that knows its nature.
Why does Aristotle think being has this structure? Although Aristotle
explains why there is one science of opposites by defining the opposites
through one, he provides no real argument for their actually being defined
through one nature, only an explanation. Given that the inclusion of per se
attributes within the scope of metaphysics depends on these definitions, and
that these attributes must be included in metaphysics, we have grounds to
think Aristotle intends the same sort of inversion we saw in the previous arguments. He lays out a structure that will allow the necessary result in order to
argue, implicitly, for the structure. Again, the force of Aristotles argument
is not with his conclusions but with the premises he needs to derive conclusions that are not in any real doubt. As yet, Aristotle has not shown how this
structure will resolve aporia four. He needs to show that metaphysics can
treat all the per se attributes without demonstrating ousiai. We can presume
that that will be accomplished in the next two arguments if, indeed, all three
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work together to resolve the aporia. What we can see here now is that there
is something one that can have attributes. This is an important achievement
because, in general, attributes of a genus are not instances of the genus, but
there is nothing that is not an instance of the pros hen genus of being. We see
now that, nonetheless, there are per se attributes of beings.
We learn something else from this argument that is important to resolve
another aporia, the second. In order to include the demonstrative principles in
metaphysics, it must be possible to treat a thing and its denial in one science; for
the most important of them, the principle of non-contradiction (PNC), asserts,
in one of its formulations, that a being and its denial cannot be together. We
cannot even raise the question whether a contradiction could be true unless we
can consider both a thing and its denial together. We must be able to compare
a thing and its denial without asserting either. Since every being is either a
thing or its denial, to consider these latter is to consider all beings. Prior to
argument four, however, it was unclear whether to consider being qua being
and what belongs to it per se is to consider a being through its opposites. Now
it is clear. A beings opposites belong to it somehow.
The fifth argument is closely connected with the fourth. It, too, argues for including in a single science: other, contrary, and what is related to one. The passage
begins by asserting that it is clear that there is one science of these ()
and ousia (1004a3133). Aristotle elaborates on these by asking, rhetorically:
If not the philosopher, who will be the one considering whether Socrates
and Socrates sitting are the same, or whether there is one contrary to
one thing, or what the contrary is, or how many ways it is said? And
similarly concerning the other issues of this sort (1004b14).
These questions are usually the provenance of dialecticians or sophists,
but the latter do not study them properly (1004b1722). It is clear that these
questions are also what Aristotle has in mind in B 1 when he asks whether
same, other, like, unlike, and contrariety and all that the dialecticians study
should be included in metaphysics (995b2025). That is to say, to ask whether
Socrates and Socrates sitting are the same is to ask about sameness rather than
Socrates. At least, the dialecticians and rhetoricians treat the question this
way. Aristotles objection is that they leave out the nature on which sameness
depends, ousia (1004b810). Thus, the questions that the dialecticians raise
should be understood as questions about the attributes of ousiaa notion we
saw in the preceding section and in Chapter 4.
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Much of Aristotles discussion here is explanatory. The argument occurs

in just four lines:
Since these [that is, same, contrary, and so forth] are per se attributes
() of one qua one and of being qua being, not qua numbers, lines, or
fire; it is clear that it belongs to the same science to know the what it is
( ) [of each] and the attributes of them (1004b58).
Implicit here is the assumption that (1) there is a single science of a nature (
) and its per se attributes. Since (2) being qua being (or one qua one)
is a nature, and same, other, contrary, and so forth are its per se attributes, it
follows that (3) these latter fall under one science.
The really problematic claim is the second premise. We expect some sort
of justification for it, but all that we find is an analogy with mathematics. Just
as there are proper attributes of number qua number, so too there are proper
attributes of being qua being (1004b1016). The analogy is interesting because
neither number nor being would seem to be a nature or a what it is. Perhaps,
this is just Aristotles point. We know that there is a mathematical science
that studies numbers and their attributes. If numbers can have attributes,
then so too can being. But how can numbers have attributes? Numbers fall
in the categorial genus of quantity, and quantities are attributes of ousiai (Z 1,
1028a2529). Aristotle denies that attributes can have their own attributes ( 4,
1007b26; cf. Cat. 5, 2a3435); only a what it is or an ousia can have attributes.
Since numbers and being are not ousiai, they should not have attributes. But
this conclusion cannot be correct: numbers do have attributes; numbers are,
for example, odd or even. Other mathematicals also have attributes, and the
science of mathematics demonstrates these attributes.
Even though it is clear that mathematicals have attributes, how and why
this is so needs to be explained. Apparently, Aristotle assumes here just
what I argued earlier, that to study something qua itself is to study it as a
kind of nature or ousia. Mathematicals have a character that allows them to
be treated as ousiai; for in book M, Aristotle says that mathematicians treat
them as if they were separate (M 3, 1078a1721), meaning, apparently, as if
they were ousiai. It is puzzling how treating mathematicals as ousiai would
allow them to have attributes, as only ousiai do. This needs to be explained.
However, the parallel that Aristotle is making with being is clear: just as
number can be studied in this way, so being can as well. This explains how
there could be a science of being without actually showing that being qua
being is a nature with attributes or explaining just how non-ousiai have
attributes. So far as I can see, the second premise of Aristotles argument is
not supported directly.
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Let me suggest that the real aim of the argument is to support the second
premise. As in the preceding arguments, the apparent conclusion here is clear
from the start. What is problematic is not whether the conclusion is true, but
how it can be true. It is this that the second premise indicates; and, in lieu
of an alternative account, the premise is justified by its ability to support the
conclusion. If this is correct, the present argument resembles the preceding
arguments. However, before we can accept this interpretation, several points
need to be clarified.
First, what does Aristotle mean by being qua being here? In the midst
of claims that there is one science of being qua being and its proper or per se
attributes (1004a58; a1017), Aristotle complains that others who consider
same, other, and so forth err because ousia, about which they understand
nothing, is prior (1004b810). He thinks that these philosophers have considered attributes of ousiai without recognizing them as attributes of ousiai.
Since same, other, and so forth are attributes of being qua being, we can
infer that being qua being is ousia. Also, Aristotle refers to the subject of the
attributes as the what it is ( ) (1004b68), another phrase for ousia.
But what does ousia mean here? Does it refer to the categorial genus of
ousia, a genus that Aristotle contrasts with the other categorial genera? This
would be highly unlikely, for the attributes of ousiafor example, contrariety
(1004b14; 1005a1112) or like (B 1, 995b2022)do not belong exclusively or
even primarily to this genus. They appear in each category ( 10, 1018a3538;
I 2, 1054a919). As in 1004a29, we are again in a context where each being,
and thus each mathematical entity, is a sort of ousia. Although Aristotle often
uses the phrase what it is to characterize the categorial genus of ousia (e.g.,
Z 1, 1028a1112), there are also passages where he applies it to all beings (Z 4,
1030a2227). Our passage conceives of ousia in the latter way. If this is right,
the equation implicit in the present argument between ousia and being qua
being does not limit the scope of being qua being. Here, ousia stands for the
substrate of attributes. Since the attributes discussed here belong to every
being, every being is an ousia in this broad sense. The nature that each being
has insofar as it is a being is the nature that makes it a being, and it is also
this nature that has the attributes discussed here.
What still needs to be explained is how a being can have attributes. As
I noted in the previous section, the problem is this: since an attribute of a
generic nature should not itself be an instance of the nature, an attribute of
being should not be a being; but, of course, there is nothing that is not a being.
It is because the subject genus of metaphysics is all-inclusive that its having
attributes is problematic. It might seem that this problem could be avoided
by equating being qua being with the categorial genus of ousia. Then, the
attributes of being qua being would not belong to this genus but to another
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genus or, presumably, to other categorial genera. Aristotles classification of

same, like, and equal as relations ( 15, 1021a1012) supports this interpretation inasmuch as these attributes of ousia fall in a different categorial genus,
namely, relation. Still, it cannot be correct; for, as I said, the opposites belong
to all beings in all genera, not just to ousia. Even relations have their own
opposites and can be the same or like. The opposites are trans-categorial. We
need to find some other substrate to which they can apply; that is, we need to
explain how any being can have attributes. If or, rather, since there are attributes of beings, we need to drop the requirement that attributes of a genus
not belong to the genus, as I noted in the previous section, and to recognize
that being is, indeed, an unusual genus.
There is no account of how being can have attributes, nor is there an argument to show that same, contrariety, and the others that the dialecticians
treatsuch as the opposites that appeared in argument fourare indeed
attributes of being qua being. We might suppose that if Aristotle were intent
on showing the attributes of being, he would have explained how there could
be such attributes. I submit that it is his not explaining how there could be
attributes of being that should convince us that he aims to show that being
is a substrate for attributes. What we have here is, again, an inquiry in which
Aristotle is using the existence of metaphysics to help determine the nature
of being and its attributes. As I said, it is the arguments ostensible conclusion
that provides support for its characterization of being. Since the topics that
dialecticians discuss can be included in the science if they are attributes of
being qua being, and since they should be included in the science, they should
somehow be attributes of being qua being. Since this is only possible if being
qua being and, in particular, each instance of this (quasi-)genus is an ousia of
some sort, each being must be an ousia.
One problem with accepting this as Aristotles reasoning is that the preceding argument, argument four, seems to provide us with an alternative ground
for including the attributes in metaphysics. If we can include in metaphysics
the topics treated by the dialecticians by recognizing them as opposites that
are somehow related to what is one, then there is no need to claim that they
are attributes of a nature. Conversely, if they are attributes of some nature, then
argument fours basis for saying that they are opposites is undermined.
Recall, however, that the fourth argument does not explicitly identify the
opposites as per se attributes. In considering the argument, I proposed, in order
to make sense of it in its context, that the opposites are per se attributes and
that the primary one to which they belong should be the ousia that extends
as widely as being, and I argued that there are grounds in other texts for
thinking that Aristotle holds this view. We can now see that argument five, if
I understand it correctly, aims to make this identification. The two arguments
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work together. We learn from the fourth argument that the opposites belong
to metaphysics, and from the fifth that metaphysics treats being qua being and
its per se attributes. Identifying the attributes as the opposites helps to explain
what these attributes are and how they can be attributes of all beings.
The fifth argument also makes an important distinction between two types
of attributes in 1004b58, quoted above: (A) the per se attributes of being qua
being and (B) the per se attributes of being qua numbers, qua lines, or qua fire.
It is clear from our passage that metaphysics investigates (A), and we are left
to infer that it does not investigate (B) or, at least, does not investigate these
attributes as attributes. Of course, they come under metaphysics insofar as
they are beings. Shortly after this passage, Aristotle compares the attributes of
being qua being with (C) the attributes of number qua number (1004b1017). It
is reasonable to think that (B) and (C) are identical. I argued earlier (5.2) that
qua locutions signify a way of treating things, but because something cannot
be treated in a particular way unless it were the sort of thing that admitted
of being so treated, the qua locution can restrict the scope of a science. A man
can be treated as a unit or a solid but only because he has these attributes.
Thus, to study some being as a number, as a line, or as fire is only possible
if the being has a number (or is one) or a line or fire. To study all beings qua
number would be to study all the numbers that beings have, and it would be
to study them qua numbers. Hence, being qua number is equivalent to number qua number. That is, (B) is (C). More evidence for this conclusion lies in
Aristotles reference, at the beginning of , to mathematics as cutting off part
of being and investigating its per se attributes (1, 1003a2326) along with his
reference in book K to metaphysics studying being qua being in contrast with
physics which studies being qua moving and mathematics which, again, cuts
off some beings and studies them, for example, qua continuous in one, two, or
three ways (K 4, 1061b2124). Just as physics treats all beings but, because it is
concerned with motion, restricts itself to those that are movable, so mathematics
(geometry) also studies all beings but as continuous and, thereby, treats only
continuous quantity. So, too, the attributes of being qua moving or qua number
belong only to those beings that have these properties. These attributes are,
then, attributes of some beings, but not of being qua being. Hence, Aristotle is
distinguishing per se attributes that belong to being from per se attributes that
belong to a part of being. Only, he is not making the distinction by pointing
out the difference in scope: he speaks of both as attributes of being, differing
in the way they belong to being, some qua being, others qua quantity. Only the
former belong essentially to the entire genus.
What exactly is this distinction? As I noted in the previous section, attributes are per se when their formulae contain or are contained in the formulae
of their substrate (An. Po. A 4, 73a34b3), and the grounds for belonging to
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something per se and qua itself are the same (73b2832). Thus, odd and even
belong to numbers qua numbers because the formulae of odd and even contain
the formula of the essence of the number (cf. 73b1621 and 10041013), whereas
discreteness belongs to numbers qua numbers because the essential formula
of number (discrete quantity) contains it. In general, the attributes of number
qua number either contain number in their formulae or are contained within
the essential formula of number. Analogously, attributes that belong qua
being either contain the essence of being in their formulae or are contained
in the formula of the essence of being. Now we saw that the essence of being
is ousia. Hence, the difference between attributes that belong qua numbers and
those that belong qua being is whether the attributes formula contains or is
contained in the formula of either ousia or number.
As if supporting this line of thought, the text continues by charging dialecticians and sophists with failing to reach knowledge even though they study
the same genus as philosophers (1004b2226). The mistake of dialecticians
and sophists is trying to understand per se attributes without the substrate
nature of which they are attributes, ousia (1004a810). In other words, sophists and dialecticians undertake to construct a science solely of attributes. We
might wonder whether they are justified, for a science of number treats what
Aristotle regards as an attribute of categorial ousia along with its own attributes.
If an attribute can have an attribute, what need is there for ousiai? Although a
mathematical is not properly an ousia, it can function as an ousia. We can see
this from the Posterior Analyticss account of per se attributes just mentioned,
for there Aristotle uses mathematicals as ousiai to explain per se attributes.
They are ousiai in the functional sense in which they have attributes whose
formulae either contain them or are contained in their formulae. Evidently,
Aristotles point here in argument five is that sophists and dialecticians do
not attain knowledge because there is nothing that they treat as an ousia and,
therefore, nothing that they could know through its attributes.
A science that treats attributes alone is an alternative envisioned by the
fourth aporia, the question whether one science knows only the ousiai or the
ousiai with their per se attributes. In the former case, there would be distinct
sciences of ousiai and attributes (B 2, 997a3233), but there could be no science of attributes alone, as we have just seen. On the other hand, if ousiai and
their attributes are included in one science, Aristotle thinks that there will be
demonstrations of ousiai (997a3032). He means, I argued earlier (4.2.2), that
there will be demonstrations of solids, lines, and other mathematicals because
these are per se attributes in respect of some things but ousiai in respect of
others. Both sides of this aporia assume that all the per se attributes are of the
same sort. Either they are all treated by a separate science of attributesa
failure, as dialectic and sophistic show, and an absurdity besidesor they
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are all demonstrated by the science that treats ousiaialso absurd because
some attributes are also ousiai.
Distinguishing two groups of per se attributes helps to avoid the problem.
Metaphysics treats as attributes only (to use the labels introduced earlier)
(A) the per se attributes of being qua being. The per se attributes of being qua
number and all others in (B) must also be included in metaphysicsagain,
metaphysics includes everythingbut they are not treated as attributes by
this science. What, then, are they treated as? For metaphysics numbers are
beings, and that means that they have an ousia and, therefore, in some way are
ousiai. We saw that mathematics treats number, that is, number qua number,
as some sort of ousia. Metaphysics also treats numbers, not as attributes but
as ousiai. That means that it does not demonstrate numbers or, by parity of
reasoning, other mathematicals. Indeed, we saw earlier that 1004a29 together
with 1003a2326 implies that mathematicals are ousiai. Since metaphysics
does not demonstrate mathematicals, and since what is demonstrated are
per se attributes, mathematicals are not among the per se attributes treated by
metaphysics. This latter science will not, consequently, demonstrate ousiai.
Moreover, since the attributes that belong to being qua number will not be
those that belong to it qua being, in demonstrating the former, mathematics
will not be infringing on metaphysics.
Again, how does metaphysics treatment of mathematicals differ from that
of mathematics? As I said, metaphysics is concerned with the essential nature
of mathematicals; it treats mathematicals as ousiai and seeks to understand
their prior principles and causes, and ultimately this means tracing mathematicals to the substrataousiai in the more usual sensesin which they inhere.
Mathematics also treats mathematicals as ousiai, but it seeks to demonstrate
their per se attributes. As we saw in Chapter 4, what are attributes for one
mathematical science can sometimes be the subject, that is, the ousia treated
by a different mathematical science. Aporia four arose from the thought that
if metaphysics treats all the attributes it would be demonstrating them and,
thereby, be demonstrating ousia. If metaphysics does not demonstrate mathematicals, this part of the aporia vanishes.
Aporia four, thus, turns on mathematics: mathematics is prominent both in
Aristotles formulation of aporia four and in s argument five. In the former,
Aristotle takes mathematical entities to be ousiai, as well as per se attributes
(B 2, 997a2730). Thus, lines are both per se attributes of triangles (cf. An.
Po. A 4, 73a3437) and also ousiai (of a sort) with their own per se attributes
(73a3839; 73b1821). Hence, any science that demonstrates all per se attributes
will demonstrate lines. We might expect that to resolve this aporia Aristotle
would show that mathematical entities are not properly ousiai. Instead,
he acknowledges that mathematical entities are ousiai of a sortthey are
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substrata of per se attributes (1004b1011)as are all beings, but he tacitly

denies that metaphysics treats the per se attributes that belong exclusively to
them as attributes. Instead, metaphysics treats mathematicals as belonging
to the genus of being, and it is concerned with the attributes that belong to
them as beings. Hence, it treats only the most universal of attributes, characters
capable, individually or collectively, of belonging to any being.
We saw that whereas attributes of proper genera cannot belong to the
genus, the attributes of the (quasi) genus of being must be beings. If, though,
all beings are ousiai, metaphysics will be demonstrating ousiai when it demonstrates attributes, and we have not escaped aporia four. However, the attributes we have seen so far are the species of one and their opposites; they are
defined through something one, but they have no categorial nature. We can
ask about the nature of same, other, and contrariety, as Aristotle does later in
the Metaphysics, but we do not arrive at a single character for any of them. It is
only in the broadest sense that same, like, other, and so forth could be said to
have essential natures. These natures are linked to being and known through
individual beings, but they cannot be demonstrated from being or in any
other way. Hence, metaphysics does not demonstrate ousiai because it does not
demonstrate its attributes or, at least, does not do so directly. (Aristotle claims
to argue for the PNC; it is a kind of attribute, but, unlike other principles, it is
not an ousia.) We will see later how Aristotle treats attributes.
With this account of the per se attributes of being, it would seem that the
fourth aporia vanishes, but this is not so. First, arguments four and five do not
deal with all the per se attributes of being qua being. Besides those mentioned
in these arguments, the attributes include prior and posterior, genus and species, whole and part, and others of this sort (1005a1618).92 It still remains to
be shown how these attributes can be included in metaphysics. Furthermore,
there is an inconsistency between arguments four and five. The fourth argument includes all the opposites in metaphysics because each is related to
one nature. Thus, contraries like odd and even, excess and deficiency, and
weightless and having weight should all belong to metaphysics. But, as just
noted, these are not treated by metaphysics as attributes. Thus, only some of
the opposites discussed in argument four are attributes of being qua being.
Clearly, metaphysics is concerned not with particular oppositesthey fall
under particular sciencesbut with the different types of opposition. But
this distinction between metaphysics and the particular sciences needs to be
drawn before the fourth aporia can be counted as resolved. It still needs to be
92. Those mentioned earlier (1005a16) may refer to the list at 1005a1112. Only
complete in the latter list has not appeared in arguments four and five. Earlier
references to these attributes include 1004b16 and 1004a1822.
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explained how the sciences that treat particular contraries are related to the
universal science that treats contrariety and other types of opposition. Why
does the latter not swallow up the former?
In sum, the fourth and fifth arguments do not fully resolve the fourth aporia,
but they provide a good start. Together they show that it is because same, like,
contrary, and so forth are attributes of being qua being that they can belong to
metaphysics, and that they can be attributes because they are related to something
one, some individual nature or, rather, to any individual nature. To include these
attributes in the science that treats ousiai is not to include all the per se attributes
of ousiai in this science, nor is it to exclude these other attributes from the science
of ousiai. Hence, the fourth aporia is not yet fully resolved.
Let me conclude this section by remarking on Aristotles use of the phrase
one qua one (1004b5). From the context it is synonymous with being qua
being. Since the latter means the nature of being, the former should mean
the nature of one. As noted earlier (2.3), Aristotle distinguishes two senses of
the essence of one ( ): a thing that is one, and something closer to
a word (I 1, 1054b520). In the present passage one qua one has the former,
referential sense, for only in this sense could it be equivalent to being qua
being and only in this sense could it have attributes. Accordingly, one qua
one in this argument is the one of argument four: it refers not to one itself or
oneness, but to some nature that is one. Indeed, the otherwise puzzling use of
this phrase becomes plausible in reference to the fourth argument. Since, as
Aristotle shows there, opposites are defined in relation to something one, and
since the opposite is also a being, both the opposite and the nature in relation
to which it is defined are one. The phrase one qua one marks out the nature
of either of these, in contrast with the opposite defined in relation to it that is
derivatively one. It is a nature that metaphysics treats insofar as it is one, that
is, qua one; its opposite is treated in relation to one. Here, as elsewhere, one
must be understood through some nature: it is not just one, but something
one. The three-fold account is at work here too, for one is a word that refers
to something that is one in respect of being an indivisible nature.
5.4.3 Argument Six (1004b271005a18)
The final argument of 2 begins by announcing that one contrary of each
pair is a privation and that all contraries are led back to being and non-being
and to one and plurality (1004b2728). Aristotle supplies several illustrations
in the text (1004b2830) and then makes a surprising claim:
But nearly all agree that beings and ousia are composed of contraries; at
least, all say the principles are contraries (1004b2931).
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There is no explanation of how Aristotles ousia could be composed of contraries. Instead, the passage continues with more illustrations and with the
claim that one and many are the genera of contraries (1004b311005a2). The
first conclusion comes at 1005a23:
Accordingly, it is clear from this that one science will investigate being
quabeing.
The next two lines apparently repeat in a more concise way the premises of
the argument: (1) all [beings] are contraries or composed of contraries, and
(2) one and many are the principles of contraries (1005a35). Since (3) one
and many are treated by one science (1005a5), it follows that (4) all beings
are treated by one science. This last is equivalent, at least in its scope, to the
conclusion.93 Premise (3) comes from argument three.
Yet, Aristotle states premise (3) with an elaboration that helps to justify a
richer conclusion:
And these belong to one science whether they are kath hen or not, as
perhaps they truly are. But, nevertheless, if one is said in many ways, the
others will be said in relation to the first, and the contraries [are] in the
same way, even if being and one are not universal and the same in all
and separate, as indeed they are not, but some are pros hen, and others
by succession (1005a511).
The last lines of our passage first note that geometry does not investigate what
contrary, complete, one, being, same, and other are, except by hypothesis, and
then conclude that there is one science of being qua being and what belongs
to it per se and that this sciences treats not only ousiai but also their attributes,
including those already named and prior, posterior, genus, species, whole,
part, and the others of this sort (1005a1118).
Whereas the initial conclusion includes being qua being in one science, the
expanded conclusion, with which the passage ends, includes being qua being
and its per se attributes in one science. To derive this latter, Aristotle needs a
modification of (3) that we can call (3) one, many, and everything related to them
and in succession from them fall under one science. This latter was established
by the fourth argument, and it seems to be part of what Aristotle intends to say
in the text just quoted (1005a511). His reasoning seems to go like this: Because
each being is a contrary or is composed of contraries, because each contrary
falls under one or many as its genera, and because these latter fall under one
93. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,85, offers a similar interpretation
of the argument.
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science, each being is included as such (qua being) in one science, metaphysics.
But because all that is related to one and in succession from it is also included
in one science, and because what is related to and in succession from one is a
per se attribute of it, being qua being and its per se attributes are included in one
science. This last conclusion is a declaration that aporia four has been resolved,
and the passage containing it resembles the appendices to arguments one and
three in its bringing the results of arguments to bear on resolving aporiai.
As unlikely as it may seem, premise (2) is genuinely Aristotelian. In bookI
he asserts that one of each pair of contraries is a privation and the other a
possession, that one and plurality are the genera of contraries, and that all
contraries are led back to them (1055b2629). There is no doubt either about
the truth of the first conclusion, that all beings fall under one science. It was
already established by the first argument (1003a33b19).
The problematic premise is (1). Elsewhere, Aristotle denies that ousiai or
quantities are contraries (Cat. 5, 3b2232; 6, 5b1129) and that all things are
from contraries ( 10, 1075a2832; N 1, 1087a29b4). Because he apparently
rejects the first premise, it is widely supposed that he does not accept this
argument.94 If this were so, then the point of the argument would be to show
that even Aristotles opponents ought to accept the existence of some sort
of metaphysics. Just as the preceding argument showed that dialecticians
and sophists should recognize an Aristotelian metaphysics that treats ousia
in addition to the attributes, this argument would show that Pythagoreans
and members of the Academythey are the ones who posit the contraries
mentioned here as principlesshould also recognize a science of all beings.
If this were right, then the apparent conclusion of the argument (1005a1118),
a statement including per se attributes in metaphysics that Aristotle clearly
endorses, would not express what follows from the sixth argument but what
follows from the fourth and fifth.
Before we take this path, however, we should look more closely at the argument. When Aristotle introduces its first premise, nearly all agree that beings
and ousia are constituted from contraries (1004b2930), he adds a qualification:
at least all say the principles are contraries (1004b31). Is his point here that all
say the principles are contraries although this is not the case? This is unlikely
Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,85, claims that the argument
is ad hominem; he means that Aristotle starts from his opponents assumptions
in order to derive the same conclusion he does from his own assumptions.
Merlan, From Platonism to Neoplatonism,165, 184, thinks that Aristotle accepts
the argument but that it stems from an early, Platonic stage of his development.
Brthlein, Die Transcendalienlehre,191, also thinks the argument expresses
Aristotles own view.
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because Aristotle takes consensus to indicate truth: agreement in making the

contraries principles implies that they are principles. The issue is whether his
point is that the principles are only contraries or that there are contrary principles
of all things, but also, perhaps, principles that are not contraries. In this latter case,
it would be generally true that beings and ousia are constituted from contraries,
but not all of their principles would be contraries. If these latter principles were
themselves beings, as they are, then some beings would not be constituted from
contraries. This situation would seem most likely because some principles of
categorial ousiai are not contraries or composed of contraries.
Allowing for additional principles does not, though, explain why Aristotle
makes contraries principles of ousia. Is this move consistent with his other
views? As I said, he denies that ousiai have contraries at Categories 5, 3b2425.
But that no being is contrary to an ousia implies nothing about the ousias constituents. Anyway, this passage from the Categories speaks of categorial ousiai
rather than ousiai in the broad sense under discussion in . In an apparently
more direct rejection of ousias being composed of contraries, Aristotle denies
that all things come from contraries: neither all things nor from contraries is
correct ( 10, 1075a2832). However, his point in this passage is that contraries cannot act on each other, and they always require a material substrate on
which to act. It follows that, though contraries are principles of ousiai, there
is still another sort of principle, a material substrate that is not a contrary.
The most direct challenge to (1) is Aristotles argument that ousiai are not
composed of contraries, but are prior to and the substrata of contraries (N 1,
1087a29b4). But his target here is the Academic elements doctrine that would
generate ousiai wholly from contraries. So this passage, too, is not rejecting
contraries as principles but arguing the necessity of a material principle that
is not a contrary; all three are principles of sensible beings ( 2, 1069b3234; 5,
1071a3335; Phys. A 7, 190b29191a5). Importantly, he describes the generation
and destruction of (categorial) ousiai in terms of contraries, being and nonbeing (Phys. E 1, 224b710; 225a320)precisely the two contraries that the
present passage from mentions as the genera of all contraries (1004b2728).
It is clear, then, that Aristotle endorses the doctrine that contraries are principles of ousia.
Other passages help to explain what Aristotle may mean to say in . In
bookI he speaks of the differentiaindeed, the differentia of a categorial
ousiaas a contrariety (8, 1058a16). He locates the unmoved movers in one of
the columns of contraries in 7, 1072a3035, a passage that recalls the reference
to columns of contraries in our passage (1004b27). In these texts from books I
and , ousiai are led back or composed of contraries not in the sense that
they are somehow generated from contraries, but insofar as their formulae
are composed of contraries (I 4, 1055b2629; cf. Physics A 6, 189b2627). Since
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each formula includes a differentia, and since this differentia is a contrary

or is composed of contraries, each being is composed of contraries. This may
explain Aristotles odd reference to ousia in the singular: beings and ousia
are composed of contraries (1004b2930) or, more literally, beings and the
ousia . . . . The ousia of any being is constituted from the contraries that define
its formula.
In short, there is a good Aristotelian sense in which an ousia is indeed composed of contraries; specifically, its differentia is a contrary. There is, then, no
compelling reason to conclude that he does not speak in his own voice when
he asserts that an ousia is composed of contraries.
Further, here in book , the term ousia is broad enough to include mathematicals and all other beingsthis is the import of the phrase being qua
being. Recall, again, that it is just such an extended sense of ousia that Aristotle
employs in presenting the fourth aporia in book B, for there he speaks of mathematicals as ousiai with attributes. We see the same view of mathematicals
in the Posterior Analytics well-known claim that some per se attributes are
constituents of their subjects formulae, as lines are attributes of triangles (A4,
73a34b3). Here triangle is treated as an ousia with attributes. The three lines
that define it are contrary to the larger number of lines that define other plane
figures. Hence, the triangles ousia is composed of a contrary. Likewise, we
saw in Metaphysics 6 that the line is a type of unity because it is divisible in
one way and indivisible in all others. A line is, by definition, a magnitude in
one direction. Hence, it, too, is composed of contraries. To recognize contraries
as inner constituents of the ousia of a quantity is not to undermine Aristotles
claim that quantities do not admit of contraries (Cat. 6, 5b1129). So the sixth
arguments claim that any ousia, including a mathematical ousia, is composed
of contraries is in line with the fourth aporia and Aristotles other usage.
In the previous chapter, we saw that the problem in aporia four is that the
mathematical attributes that one mathematical science demonstrates of its
subject ousia are, in turn, the subject ousiai of another mathematical science; for
example, the science of solid figures demonstrates lines and planes as attributes,
but these latter are treated as ousiai in plane geometry. If metaphysics includes
all ousiai and all attributes, and if it demonstrates all per se attributes of all the
ousiai it treats, it will demonstrate some ousiai. It is just because mathematical
ousiai are composed of other ousiai that aporia results. If Aristotle is to deal
with this aporia, he needs to explain how to avoid demonstrating mathematical ousiai, like lines, in a science that includes these ousiai, their attributes, and
the substrate ousiai in which the lines inhere.
Where in argument six does he do this? The arguments initial conclusion
is that being qua being falls under one science. But we already know this from
argument one. Nor do we need another argument for including the contraries
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in the science; the fourth argument suffices for that. The only way that the
argument could resolve the fourth aporia is by contributing something new
to our understanding of metaphysics, a new structure of being. What does
the argument tell us about beings? It distinguishes three levels: [1] one/many
(being/non-being); [2] the contraries; and [3] what is composed of the contraries. The explicit point is that all three fall under one science; so there can be
a metaphysics. Since the one seems to be the first principle here, it is natural
to try to identify it with ousia, but this move does not take us very far; for it
does not explain the many, also a principle of all things from level [1], and it
would imply that the contraries are led back to ousiai without making clear
what this would mean. Besides, it does not help to solve the aporia.
So let us take a different tack. Rather than trying to identify ousiai with
group [1], let us suppose that they fall under [3], a reasonable supposition
because it is just what Aristotle says here: beings and ousia are constituted
from contraries. Then, each ousia can be treated in terms of the contraries from
[2] or those from [1]. The contraries from group [2] play a role in the definitions of beings; for white, black, and all the intermediate colors are defined by
two contraries, piercing and compressing (I 7, 1057b815), and even man and
horse are defined by contrary differentiae (8, 1058a213). (These doctrines are
unfamiliar because book I, where Aristotle develops them, is so infrequently
discussed.) These contraries are among the first class of per se attributes that the
Posterior Analytics distinguishes, those contained in their subjects definitions
(A 4, 73a34b3). In short, I am proposing that the contraries from [2] that the
sixth argument claims to be principles of an ousia are the per se attributes that
are the constituents of its formula. The particular contrary pair that serves in
a formula depends on the things genus, its kind of being. So when Aristotle
claims that all are composed of contraries, he does not mean to say that they
are composed of the same contraries. Rather, each being has an ousia whose
per se attributes include some single contrary or some pair of contraries. These
per se attributes belong to level [2].
We know from argument three (1003b3233) that both one and being also
belong to each nature per se. It would be redundant to include these attributes
in the formula of a particular being, though the fact that what is is one is
important for metaphysics. Likewise, the contraries that define the ousia can
be led back to one and many though this does not add to our knowledge
of it. One, many, and being belong to level [1], as do all that is related to and
succeeds them. They, too, are per se attributes of the ousia.
Again, any individual ousia could be treated both as an instance of the contraries through which it is defined and, since these contraries are led back to
one and many, as an instance of one and many. The question whether triangle
is composed of lines or points belongs to geometry; the questions whether it is
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one or many, whether it has a contrary, and so forth all belong to metaphysics. As
Aristotle puts it here, it belongs to the geometer to consider the latter set of charactersone, being, contrary, and so forthonly by hypothesis (1005a1113).
The point is that the two levels of contraries are not just per se attributes but two
types of principles that define two types of sciences: the particular science
that treats the entity through its particular contrariety, and the universal science
that treats it through one and many, or being and non-being.
It may seem surprising that Aristotle would use the term principles
(1004b31; 1005a4) to designate attributes. However, we saw that he refers to
generic constituents of a formula as principles at B 3, 998b36, and such
constituents are per se attributes. Moreover, in speaking of the contraries as
principles, Aristotle seems to be indicating their role in the particular sciences
(1005a1113) and, at the same time, distinguishing them from the principles of
the universal science (1005a5). A particular pair of contraries are principles that
define a genus and are known by the particular science that knows the genus,
but these contraries are not principles for metaphysics except insofar as they
are instances of one and many. In any case, my claim is that the contraries that
argument six terms principles are what argument five terms attributes.
This is essential for understanding how Aristotle resolves aporia four. To be
sure, argument six does not make this connection, but in a work where so
many pieces are missing, this is not a compelling reason for concern.
What, then, is the resolution of aporia four that emerges from arguments
foursix? Again, the problem in B is that a science of all ousiai and all per se
attributes would demonstrate ousiai because mathematicals like lines, though
ousiai in their own right, are per se attributes of solids and would be demonstrated by a science that knows solids. The aporia assumes that if an ousia is
included within its scope, the science will demonstrate or, at least, treat all of
its per se attributes. We have seen that argument six takes all beings, including mathematicals, to be ousiai. This means that all the mathematicals will
belong to metaphysics, but as part of its subject matter. We saw in argument
five that metaphysics does not aim to find all the per se attributes of this subject matter but only those that belong qua being, and these are the attributes
that argument six locates on level [1]. This level includes one and many and
all that are related to them and follow from them in succession. Argument
four expounds what is related to one as its species, its opposites, contrariety,
and differentia and all that is related to any of these. Argument six suggests,
in a passage yet to be discussed, that what is in succession is a series of ones
and that the per se attributes of all beings include, besides what has been
mentioned, prior, posterior, whole, part, and genus and species. Hence, all the
ousiai and all the per se attributes demonstrated by the particular sciences that
treat them fall under a single science; but this science treats these attributes as
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ousiai rather than attributes, and the per se attributes of them that it examines
are of an entirely different type. Since metaphysics does not demonstrate the
per se attributes demonstrated by particular sciences, it does not demonstrate
ousiai. Thus, arguments four, five, and six work together to disable the aporia
by introducing a new structure that they ascribe to being. They elaborate a
way in which beings can have essential attributes by defining those attributes
through unity, a character that argument three ascribes to each being.
We might have expected Aristotle to resolve aporia four by denying that lines
and planes are ousiai. Instead, he denies that they are attributes or, rather, he
denies that they are the attributes metaphysics is concerned with. So part of
the answer to aporia four is that all the attributes treated in particular sciences
are included within metaphysics but as part of its subject matter. Whereas solid
geometry studies lines and planes as attributes of solids, metaphysics treats
lines, planes, and solids on a par as beings and, thus, as ousiai. So we do not
have to worry about demonstrating ousiai in metaphysics. Yet, what is really
puzzling is how metaphysics can treat any attributes at all. Arguments four
and six answer this question.
It is important to see that the per se attributes Aristotle describes in arguments four and six do not have any categorial content. There are privations
and contraries in every genus. So to speak of knowing privations and other
opposites is not to speak of knowing something in the way one might know
man, horse, or unmoved mover. As we have seen, opposites are defined solely
through their relation to something one: they do not depend on the particular
nature this one has, nor is their relation to it a categorial character. This allows
the opposites to belong to all beings, and Aristotle can speak of them apart from
any nature. On the other hand, these opposites do not exist independently as
such; the opposite of one nature is some other nature that stands to it as, for
example, its contrary, its privation, or its differentia. Argument four treats these
other natures as attributes even though they are beings and ousiai in their own
right. Whereas argument four describes attributes that are, in a way, just other
natures, argument six explores attributes that are constituent principles. (The
distinction parallels that between the first two classes of per se attributes in the
Posterior AnalyticsA 4, 73a34b2.) But these constituent contraries are genera
that are also principles of other beings. The point is that the per se attributes of
being are not entities that exist somehow outside of being. They are characters
with relational contents that extend beyond categorial lines or, better, they are
ways of treating other beings in respect of some one being.
The beings to which these attributes belong are characterized differently in the
three arguments, and my account depends on equating these characterizations.
In argument four, Aristotle speaks of the one (1004a10, 22) or the primary
one (1004a26). In argument five, the substrate of the accidents is being qua
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being and one qua one. I argued that all these refer to the nature of any being.
Hence, I equate them with the beings and ousia that argument six locates on
level [3]. If this is right, a being or an ousia is one. It would seem to follow that
its constituent principles on levels [2] and [1] should be narrower and still more
one. But these latter are constituents of other ousiai as well. Hence, it is unclear
whether they are more one than the beings on level [3]. I will come back to this
issue. In any case, argument five uses the phrase being qua being to refer to
the substrate of attributes: it signifies the lowest ousia, rather than, as generally
supposed, the highest ousia.
Argument six implies that a succession of sciences treat these ousiai. There
is, first, the science that treats one, its contrary, and all that is related to them
(level [1]). Then, there are the sciences like geometry that treat particular
contrarieties and all that is related to them (level [2]). The former is more
universal in scope and includes all ousiai; each of the latter treats some genus
of ousiai. Aristotle suggests the succession in a passage I quoted at the beginning of this section:
If one is said in many ways, the others will be said in relation to the first,
and the contraries [are] in the same way, even if being and one are not
universal and the same in all and separate, as indeed they are not, but
some are pros hen, and others by succession (1005a511)
Just before these lines Aristotle claims that one and many are principles of the
contraries (1005a45). So the contraries are among the others that are said
in relation to the first. When he claims that the contraries [are] said in the
same way, he seems to mean that in each pair there is also a one in relation
to which others are said. That is to say, one and being are not the same: the
ones are by succession, but each one is, as a being, the hen of a pros hen. First,
there is the one and the many and all that is related to them, including all the
contraries; then, there is a pair of contraries (one of which is a one and the
other a many) and all that is related to them; and so forth. This is like what we
saw in the fourth argument, but here the two levels also serve to distinguish
the particular sciences from the universal science.
This passage tells us nothing more about the succession or how one and
many are the principles of contraries, but it is worth reflecting on these
questions. According to argument four, each opposite is defined in relation
to a one: it must be a kind of many. But we saw that these opposites are also
beings with their own natures. Their natures consist of something one and
some relation to it. Indeed, every being contains that nature in respect of
which it is a being as well as something else that makes it different from
other beings. Hence, every nature is composed of a one and a many. But
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this one and many are not just constituent parts of a being; they are generic
principles of all beings. In an analogous way, any particular pair of contraries will be constituent principles of some beings and thereby define a class
of beings. It is clear, then, how the principle that is prior to all the others
could have the greatest scope and why particular contraries are limited to
a genus. Moreover, inasmuch as the one that is a principle of contraries is
prior to succeeding ones because it marks a whole and a genus, being must
have an additional set of per se attributes. A sign that my reflections on succession are on the right track is that Aristotles argument six adds to the list
of per se attributes mentioned in argument four prior and posterior, genus
and species, and whole and part (1005a1617).
The question that remains about the succession of ones in argument six
is whether it is the same as the succession of ousiai that Aristotle proposes in
1004a29 to resolve aporia three. Recall that metaphysics is able to treat all ousiai
without demonstrating all their per se attributes because the ousiai resemble
mathematicals insofar as they are in succession. This means that the attributes
of the first ousia are also attributes of the second and succeeding ousiai, the attributes of the second ousia are attributes of the third and succeeding, and so on
down the linein the way that odd and even, as attributes of numbers, are also
attributes of plane figures (their sides, vertices, etc.), solids, and so forth. This
sequence of ousiai and their attributes does not resolve aporia four because the
prior ousiai could, indeed, would be attributes of subsequent ousiai; so a science
of all ousiai would demonstrate ousiai. The succession of ousiai differs from the
succession of argument six in at least two other ways: The one that is first in the
succession of argument six is a genus of contraries and not, apparently, an ousia.
Then, the attributes that arguments four-six justify including in metaphysics,
such as contrary and genus, are defined through a one that is the nature of
any being, whereas the attributes that are common to the succession of ousiai
belong to all because they belong to the nature of the first ousia, the unmoved
movers. Indeed, attributes of the latter such as eternity and pure actuality are
not attributes of all beings. So the two successions are not the same.
On the other hand, Aristotle locates the unmoved movers within the columns of contraries ( 7, 1072a3035), suggesting that they are somehow the
principles of all contraries. Perhaps, too, their attributes are common to all
beings as standards against which all are measured: every being is an actuality to some degree, even if most are also potential, false, or even mutilated.
Thus, Aristotle might bring the two successions in line, but there is no attempt
to do so in 2. They are proposed independently to resolve different aporiai.
The structure that emerges from arguments four-six is more pertinent to the
(first) stage of metaphysics that treats the nature of being and its common
attributes. The other structure is more important for the later stages we find
in subsequent books.
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Aristotle justifies neither structure by analyzing being. On what basis, then,

do arguments foursix advance a hierarchical structure of being? The short
answer is that this structure alone resolves aporia four. How does he know that
other answers will not work? The text does not provide the sort of uniqueness
argument we would like, but a sub-theme of the three arguments has been
the refutation of alternative views. Dialecticians and sophists are specifically
criticized in the fifth argument: neither arrives at knowledge because they omit
ousia. Physicists and Platos Academy are criticized implicitly in the fourth argument: whereas they make opposites prior to natures, Aristotle shows that the
opposites are defined in relation to natures. Pythagoreans and the Academy
are also implicit targets in argument six: they recognize a succession of natures,
but they try to generate them. Additionally, Aristotles distinction between
metaphysics and mathematics in terms of the scopes of their subject matters
and the hypotheses they makethe geometer accepts on hypothesis what the
metaphysician treats (1005a1113)calls into question the primacy that the
Academy accords to mathematics. Thus, in presenting his own resolution of the
fourth aporia Aristotle is also excluding alternatives and implicitly making a case
for the uniqueness of his solution. Moreover, Aristotles solution is so complex
and so far reaching in drawing upon the solutions to aporia one and three that
an alternative, within his constraints, is all but inconceivable.
Perhaps a more serious problem is that arguments foursix seem to be
redundant. Ostensibly, they argue that there is one science of: the opposites
(argument four), being qua being and its per se attributes (argument five), and
being qua being and its per se attributes (argument six). Since we know that all
these have to belong to metaphysics, and since what is assumed in the ostensible
premises seems to be necessary in order to include them, what is assumed
must be true. In other words, the arguments establish, in effect, the truth of
the premises because only if they are true can the conclusions be true. But a
plurality of arguments for the same conclusion undermines each argument,
for if Aristotle can establish the conclusion in different ways from different
premises, any of the latter might be true. My discussion of arguments four-six
answers this charge by showing why all are necessary to resolve aporia four.
Each argument adds essential details to a single structure of being, and none
would resolve the aporia by itself.
Where in the Metaphysics are the per se attributes of being qua being
treated? It is widely recognized that Aristotle discusses them in book ,
but this book is rarely taken to contain the discussion Aristotle justifies in
2.95 One reason for this view is that book is taken to be a philosophical
95. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,122, is a noteworthy exception.
However, he does not see a conflict in saying that the book investigates the usages
of words and that it investigates attributes.
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lexicon that examines ways terms are said rather than the things called by
those terms. Another reason is that the book contains mere sketches, some
of which later serve as the starting points for extended treatmentss
discussions of being and one, for example, are crude sketches that Aristotle
refines later. For reasons explained earlier (2.1), I do not think that Aristotle
distinguishes between understanding the way a word is used and understanding the things it is used of. He thinks we are only able to use words
of things because we can grasp the things and the definitions in respect
of which the words are said of them, and he thinks there is agreement in
linguistic usage because we can grasp truths. The difficulty with applying
my three-component analysis to terms like other, contrary, and genus
is that they seem to lack definitions because their usages are not confined
to a single category. However, this is precisely what arguments four-six
show us: there are definitions here because these attributes stand in determinate relations to a single nature. Hence, these three arguments justify
the discussions that we see in book (cf. 2.1.2). A sign that this is right is
that many of s discussions trace the various ways a term is said to some
primary instance; they are, in effect, defining other instances through their
relations with something one, and this instance serves as a type of generic
nature that parallels ousias role in 2s argument one. As for the second
reason is supposed not to treat the attributes, Aristotle elaborates three of
s sketches: he needs extended treatments of being, ousia, and one to trace
the first two to primary natures and to show that one has no such nature.
Thus, the elaborations do just what Aristotle seeks to do in his treatments
of all the attributes in . The reason other attributes are only sketched in
is obvious: since none has a proper categorial nature, not much can be said
about them. Book s treatments of attributes do not live up to our expectations of metaphysical accounts, but this is a consequence of the natureor
rather, lack of natureof these entities.
5.5 Argument Seven (1005a19b8):

Principles of demonstration
Although the third chapter of introduces the treatment of the principles
of demonstration which occupies the remainder of the book, it also contains
an argument for the inclusion of a topic in a single science, and this argument
resembles the six we saw in 2. The chapter begins by raising the second aporia,
is there one or many sciences of ousia and what are called, in mathematics,
axioms [1005a1921; also B 2, 996b2629 with 997a13]? Aristotle states his
affirmative answer at the beginning (1005a2122) and end (1005a2829) of his
argument for it, and again (1005b58) after a bit of explanation.
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The argument runs as follows:

It is clear that the consideration of these [ousia and axioms] falls to one
science, that of the philosopher. For [axioms] belong () to all
beings, not [merely] to some individual genus separate from the others.
And everyone uses them because they are [axioms] of being qua being,
and each genus is a being. But they use them to the extent to which the
[axioms] suffice for themselves, and this is just as far as the genus about
which they demonstrate extends. So that since it is clear that they belong
to all qua beings (for this is common to them), the study of them belongs
to the person who knows about being qua being (1005a1229).
At first glance, this passage would seem to include the axioms or principles
of demonstration in metaphysics by virtue of their universal extension. The
principles belong to all beings, and the study of any being makes use of them;
so they must be treated by the science of all beings. But this cannot be enough;
for, so understood, the passage fails to remove the aporia posed in B 2. There
Aristotle assumes that all sciences use the principles (996b33997a1). Indeed,
this is what generates the aporia: if the principles belong to all sciences, how
could it be the exclusive task of the science of ousia to investigate them? What
he needs to explain is how the principles can belong to one science and still
be used by all the others. The other side of the aporia is that a single science of
ousiai and demonstrative principle would, apparently, be able to demonstrate
all the per se attributes and so swallow the particular sciences (997a911). The
universal extension of the principles that Aristotle seems to suggest in the above
passage does not explain how to avoid this problem. Indeed, it is, again, part of
what generates the problem. Finally, there is nothing in the claim of universal
extension to exclude the possibility of two distinct sciences of universal scope,
as Aristotle also contemplates in B 2 (996b3133; 997a1115).
How, then, does the argument that appears in the text avoid the second
aporia? Indeed, how can we understand the passage as an argument? Let me
suggest that the clue to interpretation lies in the term belong (). This
is the term that Aristotle regularly uses to express the inherence of an attribute
in an ousia. Just a few lines above, in argument six, he refers to what belongs
( ) to being qua being (1005a14, a15): prior, posterior, same, and
the other such entities. When he speaks of the axioms as belonging to being,
it would be natural to suppose that he continues to speak of attributes. The
problem with this natural interpretation is that it makes no apparent sense
to say that axioms belong to beings as if they were attributes. It is easier to
take belongs here to mean holds true of. However, let us suppose for the
moment that Aristotle continues to use the Greek term to mean belongs,
as he did earlier. Then, the seventh argument would run as follows: (1) the
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axioms belong to all beings; and (2) everyone who investigates some genus of
being uses them; hence, (3) they cannot belong to a particular science. From (1)
and (3), it follows that (4) the axioms belong to the science that investigates all
beings. This latter is the science of all ousiai that studies being qua being; hence,
(5) someone investigating being qua being must also treat the axioms. This is
virtually the way that the argument appears in the text quoted above.
So understood, the present argument is simply a specification of the fifth
argument. There Aristotle argues that attributes belonging to being qua being fall
under metaphysics. If the axioms can be attributes that belong to being qua being,
the second aporia vanishes, for we know that these attributes belong to all genera
of being without generating a single demonstrative science of all attributes.
There is, then, a motive for taking the axioms to be attributes of some sort.
The problem is to make sense of this notion. As a step toward this end, let
us ask how else we could understand a general law or principle, such as an
axiom, in a metaphysics that divides beings into ousiai and their attributes?
What would be the ontological status of an axiom? Clearly, we cannot say
that it belongs to our minds or mental apparatus if we are able to use it to
demonstrate attributes, for there would be no ground to think that a mental
content or process applied to beings would lead to conclusions that must hold
of them. But if it is not or, better, not merely in our minds, where could it be?
There is just no metaphysical room for it as we usually think of it, nor can we
deny it any ontological basis. Aristotle has only two alternatives: the law or
principle could be an ousia or it could be an attribute. The former is impossible;
for if the principle were itself an ousia, it could not belong to an ousia. But it
must belong to ousiai because it belongs to everything. Since it cannot be an
ousia, it must somehow be a sort of attribute.
Aristotle does not explain here precisely how an axiom could be an attribute, but his argument does not require that we understand this. It suffices
to recognize that if the principles are somehow per se attributes of being qua
being, they can be included in a single science. He implicitly reasons: since
this account of the principles explains how they can be included in a single
science, and since no other will apparently do, it must be true.
But does this account really explain how the principles can be included in a
single science? Does it explain how they can belong to one science but be used
by all and how the principles can belong to one science without that science
demonstrating all attributes? These are issues raised in the second aporia, but
they closely resemble those raised in the fourth, the aporia whether the per se
attributes are included in one science, exactly what we would expect if the
axioms are attributes of a sort. The solution to the second aporia also parallels the solution to the fourth. Again, since the principles are per se attributes
belonging to each being insofar as it is a being, they would be included in
any science that treats particular beings in some other way. Thus, the axioms
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could be used by all sciences. But since they belong to all beings, they would
be known andinsofar as possibledemonstrated by the science that studies
universal, trans-categorial characters, metaphysics. The reason that metaphysics can treat the principles without also demonstrating all the attributes is that
metaphysics treats these attributes not qua attributes but qua being (1005a2832).
For metaphysics, all beings are instances of ousia in that extremely broad sense
that we have seen at work earlier in . The axioms that belong to all beings,
axioms such as the principle of non-contradiction (PNC), contain no particular
content, unlike the essential definitions that serve as axioms for particular
sciences. Axioms without such content can belong to all beings because they
do not depend on specific features of their natures. We saw earlier that there
are attributes defined in relation to what is one, rather than in respect of some
particular one or particular contrariety. Attributes of a particular ousia fall
to the particular science that studies it. The axioms under consideration here
look to be akin to the attributes defined without particular content. Thus, it is
the succession of sciences and the position of metaphysics as the first science
that serves to resolve both the second and the fourth aporiai.96
96. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,8687, maintains that Aristotle
answers the question of how the demonstrative principles can be studied by one
science if they are used by all, but not the problem of how the science that treats the
axioms could avoid demonstrating all attributes. He suggests that Aristotle may
have abandoned the odd assumption that generates it: if C is demonstrated
from B and B from A, A, B, and C all belong to the same field of study. However,
what he cites is part of the one science treats one genus assumption, an assumption that Aristotle surely does not abandon. Like most readers, Kirwan does not
see avoiding a single demonstrative science as a serious issue.
Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics,1:230, thinks that the second aporia is an artificial problem because (1) the demonstrative principles are not demonstrated by
metaphysics and (2) each science has principles proper to the genus it studies
and uses principles common to all sciences. His first claim assumes that Aristotle
relies on what Kirwan calls the odd assumption: since metaphysics does not
demonstrate the principles, what follows from them does not belong to it. If the
aporia rests instead on the one science/one genus assumption, it does not make
any difference whether or not the principles are strictly demonstrated, so long as
they attach to the genus. Rosss second claim is right, but it remains problematic
how there could be particular sciences if one science treats all beings, especially
because this science cannot merely be a generic science that treats what is common to all beings but must be a first science in treating what is common to all
because it is primary. Just how particular sciences could have their own per se
attributes independently of those treated in metaphysics remains problematic
until resolved in 2, in arguments foursix.
Reale, The Concept of First Philosophy,13536, maintains that the concept of being
qua being or ousia solves the second aporia. He seems to have in mind that this
concept accounts for the existence of a most universal science. Although I agree
that this is important, I do not see how it, by itself, resolves the difficulties.
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This parallel with the fourth aporia and the suggested solution derive from
Aristotles use of the term belong to characterize the way the axiom holds of
things. Is there any other textual evidence that he thinks of the axioms as per
se attributes and adopts this solution? There is. Aristotle claims not only that
the axioms belong to being, but that they belong to all beings (1005a2223)
and belong to all qua beings (1005a27). In this respect they are like the per se
attributes that belong to being qua being (1004b1517). Further, the demonstrative
principles, like the per se attributes (1005a1113), are not hypothetical for metaphysics but are taken on hypothesis by other sciences. As Aristotle puts it,
The person knowing beings qua beings is able to state the most certain
principle about all things. This is the philosopher, and the most certain
principle of all things is that about which it is impossible to be mistaken;
for it is necessary that it be most knownfor all make mistakes about
things they do not knowand not hypothetical. For that which someone
comprehending any being must have is not a hypothesis (1005b1016).
This most certain and unhypothetical principle is the PNC. It is unhypothetical for metaphysics, the science that knows and investigates it; but it must be
hypothetical for the other sciences because they, unlike metaphysics, do not
try to say whether it is true or false (1005a2931). Same, contrary, genus, and
the other per se attributes of metaphysics are equally hypothetical for particular sciences, and unhypothetical for metaphysics. The distinction between
hypothetical and non-hypothetical knowledge is another way to express the
earlier distinction between the attributes treated by metaphysics and those
treated by particular sciences.
So my interpretation fits with the text of 3. It also explains why the discussion in this chapter appears after the resolution of the fourth aporia: the second
aporia turns on the same dilemma and is resolved in a parallel way.
A problem that remains for my interpretation of the seventh argument is
to make sense of the idea that demonstrative principles are not hypothetical for metaphysics. This should mean that metaphysics demonstrates these
principles. But how is it possible to demonstrate first principles? Obviously,
they cannot be derived from higher principlesthere are no higher principles.
Instead of demonstrating the principles, Aristotle argues against denials of the
principle; indeed, he devotes the rest of book (Chapters 48) to this negative support for the principles. But how is it possible to refute someone who
denies the PNC? Obviously, it would do no good to show him that his denial
is contradictory. I shall have more to say about this problem when I discuss
48. In anticipation, let me merely mention that the truth of the PNC and
the other demonstrative principles depends upon there being natures that are
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one in a particular way. Even in this respect the aporia about demonstrative
principles resembles the aporia about per se attributes, for both are resolved by
understanding a version of the problem of the one and the many.

If the foregoing account of the first three chapters of book is correct, they
contain seven arguments, each concluding that some topic or topics do indeed
fall under one science. Since the existence of a science of metaphysics hinges
upon all the topics that it ought to treat actually falling under one science,
these seven arguments amount to arguments for the existence of metaphysics.
This account of book meshes perfectly with my account of the first group
of aporiai. These ask whether or not these same topics fall under one science,
and I argued that the existence of metaphysics hinges upon an affirmative
answer to the one science alternative of each.
In the first three chapters of Aristotle does argue for one science. However,
because this alternative is tantamount to the existence of metaphysics and
because we have independent grounds for plausibly supposing that metaphysics existsnamely, the arguments of the conclusion of Aristotles
arguments is less interesting to us than the premises he posits to reach it.
Moreover, to resolve an aporia Aristotle cannot simply argue for one side; he
must show how to dissolve arguments for the other side. This is, in fact, just
what the premises of the seven arguments do. They support the one science
alternative by undermining the arguments for many sciences that assert the
impossibility of treating diverse topics under one science.
Since the truth of the ostensible conclusions of these seven arguments,
that there is one science of various topics, is not seriously in doubt, their real
force lies in the support they provide for the truth of the premises. These
premises consist of interesting and far-reaching claims about the structure
of being, but they are not justified in the text by the sort of analysis we would
expect. There is, for example, no proof for the important claim that being is
pros hen. Aristotle just asserts it is true, explains what it means, and shows
how it resolves an aporia. I have argued that he assumes implicitly that this is
the only way to resolve the aporia and concludes that it must, accordingly, be
true. The same could be said about the other claims that ostensibly serve as
the premises of these arguments.
The first sentence of book , the assertion that there is a science that studies
being qua being and what belongs to it per se, is formally the conclusion of the
seven arguments. However, the real force of this discussion lies in the support
the argument provides for its ostensible premises. To propose that Aristotles
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arguments be taken in a way that is exactly opposite to the way his text presents
them to us is apt to raise eyebrows. In fact, however, this is just the way that
this text is typically read. Many scholars see s first sentence as a statement
of fact, and they focus their attention, instead, on the pros hen doctrine, the
convertibility of one and being, and other claims about the structure of being
contained in the books opening chapters. Since they, too, recognize that these
doctrines are what is new and interesting here, I am not really advancing a
different emphasis so much as pointing out the incongruity between what is
clearly central and the conclusion that Aristotle ostensibly argues. In other
words, I am not suggesting that we abandon the text but recognize that its
apparent organization is at odds with the doctrines of being that Aristotle
is introducing here. Although scholars have focused on those doctrines,
they have considered them on their own independently of the arguments in
which they serve formally as premises. This is the reason that readers have
not appreciated the kind of support that Aristotle is giving the doctrines. If
we consider them by themselves, we see that Aristotle presents the pros hen
and other doctrines as assertions without any support. My claim here is that,
by noticing the structure of the text, we can see that Aristotle does actually
provide a kind of justification for them. These doctrines are justified by their
being able to resolve otherwise insoluble aporiai. An aporia is a contradiction;
it contains seemingly good arguments on contrary sides of an issue. But we
cannot rest in a contradiction. An escape route must be sought, and it must
be correct if it offers the only alternative to contradiction. We do not, in fact,
find in our text the type of uniqueness arguments that Aristotle really needs.
However, we have seen in some cases Aristotle implicitly arguing against
alternative solutions. In the absence of an alternative solution, a doctrines
resolving an aporia is strong support for it. Thus, 13 is not simply resolving aporiai but implicitly arguing for doctrines of being by showing that they
resolve aporiai.
Besides enabling us to see the opening chapters of in an exciting way,
this interpretation explains why Aristotle presents his doctrines so sketchily
and ambiguously here. He tells us as much about being as we need to resolve
the aporiai. Or, better, he is using each aporia as a way to determine what must
be true about being if the aporia is to be resolved. No more than this minimal
account would be justified. In other words, since the truth of a doctrine is
being proven by its capacity to resolve an otherwise insoluble contradiction, all that can properly be asserted is the minimum needed to resolve the
contradiction. We would like Aristotle to explain to us just how the sciences
are in succession, what nature the attributes have, and what the causes of
being are. What we get instead are sketches of doctrines. There is no need to
conclude that Aristotle has not yet worked out the details or that records
his processes of thinking about issues whose outcome remains in flux. There
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is a better explanation: Aristotle has no reason or justification for asserting

more than he does here.
Still, even with this understanding of the argument, it is hard to make sense
of the picture of being that emerges here. Aristotle speaks of being as a kind
of genus, in sharp contrast with what he typically maintains. He denies that
there is a generic nature shared by all beings, but he identifies a nature to which
all are related, ousia, even while he speaks of each being as somehow having
a nature and, thus, being an ousia. Either being is a genus or it is nothow
can asserting both be anything but a contradiction? Moreover, the reason
that Aristotle denies being is a genus in B 3 is that it cannot be differentiated;
differentiae of being would have to lie outside of it and, thus, be non-beings
(998b2227). If being cannot be differentiated, it cannot have species; how,
then, can the second argument speak of species of being? Furthermore, if
there is no generic nature shared by all beings, how can being have attributes
that belong to all beings? Since the attributes of a genus should lie outside
of it, how can there be per se attributes of being? Additionally, Aristotle aims
to find attributes that are common to all beings, even while he suggests that
metaphysics focuses on what is first among subjects that exist in succession.
These problems are formidable. We can see why scholars have ignored
Aristotles claims about beings generic character,97 its species, and its attributes.
(Very little has been written on arguments foursix, for example.) The issue
here is whether Aristotles doctrine of being makes sense and, equivalently,
whether the science of metaphysics that these arguments are supposed to
show is possible is coherent and real.
My response has three dimensions. First, although it is customary to excuse
our confusion by noting the state of the texts, I suggest that the real difficulties lie in the issues themselves and in conceiving of metaphysics. Aristotles
conceptions of being and the science of metaphysics that treats it simply do not
lend themselves to simple formulation. A part of the reason for this complexity
is the second part of my response: I have been proposing that Aristotle is not
setting out doctrine here but conducting an inquiry into being that progressively refines the notion of being as it focuses the science of metaphysics on
successive representations of its subject matter. Third and, perhaps, more
surprising, the peculiarity of Aristotles account of being is that this transformative dimension itself belongs to metaphysics. We have seen that Aristotle
uses the phrase being qua being before its meaning has been delineated. He
uses it as a placeholder that refers to the nature of being without indicating
97. Ross says nothing about the implication that being is a genus though he apparently recognizes it (see his discussion of 1003b2022 at Aristotles Metaphysics
1:257; also, see his remarks on genus at 2:305). He takes at 1004a29 to
mean predicate rather than category (1:260).
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just what that nature is. Clearly, he needs a way to refer to this nature in
order to be able to ask what it is. If its referent were apparent from the start,
inquiry would be superfluous. Likewise, if we accord being qua being a
fixed reference early in the argument, we will be unable to make sense of
the steps Aristotle takes to find its reference. His not specifying the nature
of being immediately need not indicate confusion, vacillation, or ignorance.
More likely, it simply reflects the initial state of his inquiry.
As he progresses beyond this initial state, Aristotle does not discover, at
least in book , a single definitive nature of being. He proceeds gradually
through the seven arguments in s opening chapters determining progressively the character of being. They show that it is pros hen, that it has species,
that it converts with one and its particular species convert with species of
one, that it has per se attributes that are distinct from the per se attributes of
particular beings, and that among its attributes are contrariety and the principles of demonstration. As we have seen, none of these results derives from
a detailed examination of particular beings. In each case, we see Aristotle
ascribing a structure to being with little more than hints of how to apply it.
These successive determinations enable being to meet unity requirements
that the subject matter of any science must meet or, more specifically, that the
subject of metaphysics must meet. Since there must be a science of first causes
and since the first causes are the causes of everything, being must somehow
be able to meet these requirements. Yet, because the details of these structures
are not spelled out, we cannot say that the nature of being has been adequately
determined. The seven arguments show how it is that being can have a nature,
and in the process they tell us something about what that nature would be like;
but they do not aim to determine what the nature is. It remains for Aristotle
to fill in the details later in the Metaphysics. As I said, the inquiry determines
the character of being in progressive stages.
That being would have a nature, have attributes, or be the subject of a science
is not obvious. The structures that Aristotle ascribes to being to account for these
features depend on extending the more ordinary application of Aristotelian
concepts of genus, ousia, and attributes. In making these extensions, Aristotle
clearly indicates the dependence of the broader application upon the narrower:
being could not be a pros hen genus were not ousia intelligible, and this latter
depends ultimately on kath hen genera of ousiai (10042a-3); there would be no
contrariety were there not particular contraries. Thus, even though the extension allows all beings to come under one science, it does not negate the other
structures, more narrow and more proper, upon which it rests. At the same time,
the motivation for including all beings, ones, their species and per se attributes
in a single science is to find the first causes. Hence, the counterpart to the discussion of the breadth of metaphysics subject matter is the determination of its
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hierarchical organization or succession so that we may locate its causes. Again,

the motivation for including everything in metaphysics is to find the causes of
everything, and it is these causes that constitute the primary subject matter of
metaphysics. This is why the discussion of being must inevitably become the
discussion of something else. Seeking the principles and causes of being, we are
led to inquire into ousia because all beings are or are related to ousia. Ironically,
the dynamic development that determines the nature of being results, in effect,
in its disappearance: an inquiry into being inevitably becomes an inquiry into
ousia, just as the inquiry into ousia becomes an inquiry into primary ousia.
The path of this breakdown is more complicated than usually noticed, we
have seen. The first step is to ascribe some nature or ousia to each being. Only
later, in the central books, does it become clear that this nature itself depends
upon ousia proper, that is, categorial ousia. In the course of determining the
nature of being, being becomes, as it were, something else.
This is not a transformation that discards and leaves behind the previous
stages. Even though the study of being transforms itself, the claims made
about broader and narrower notions of being remain correct. Thus, book s
claim that being is a sort of genus with its own nature and per se attributes
remains true, even as further exploration of this nature leads us to higher
and narrower causal features of being. Indeed, the exploration of the per se
attributes of all beings occurs in books and I; even though, in some passages from the latter, Aristotle seems to presuppose the significant refinement
of being that has occurred in the central books. Some of Aristotles discussions of attributes do not themselves seem either central to his project in the
Metaphysics or important in their own right. What is important, however, is
to show that all beings fall under one science, and that we can know them as
such and through their attributes. For only if everything is included in one
science is it possible to know that something is indeed the first principle of
everything. And like other sciences, metaphysics aims to find the first principles
of its subject matter, though in this case the inquiry is arduous and proceeds
through stages toward some particular beings. These beings, in turn, justify
the various stages down to the most general claims about beings. However,
these last, because of their generality, could not be very substantial.98 Thus, the
98. The question has often been posed as to whether metaphysics is a science of what
is most general and has the least content, or the science of some special beings
(see the opening of Chapter 5) or, as Philip Merlan asked, a metaphysica generalis
or metaphysica specialis, Merlan, From Platonism to Neoplatonism,160. In my view
Aristotle does have some sort of general metaphysics, but since its subject is neither
a universal that is so broad as to be nearly without content nor transcendentals and
since it is a stage in the inquiry into first causes, it is not the general metaphysics
that Owens, Doctrine of Being, so effectively refutes.
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highest beings both justify universal claims about all beings and undermine
those claims by exposing their ontological scantiness.
In sum, it is because the account of being develops and because its development leads to an inquiry into some beings, ousiai, that Aristotle can both
affirm that being is a genus and deny that (primary) being is a genus, affirm
that it has species and deny its species, affirm its attributes and deny them
as well. Or as Aristotle might put it, in a way s account of being is true but
in another way not.
This discussion answers the objections posed earlier, but there is one further idea that will help us understand Aristotles arguments still more deeply:
metaphysics is peculiar among Aristotelian sciences in that it determines what
its subject matter is, and book constitutes a kind of reflexive determination
of the subject matter of the science. We have seen that the seven arguments in
23 determine the structure of being by showing what it must be like in order
to be the subject of a single science. Since being and its natures, species, and
attributes all belong to the subject matter of metaphysics, we can see that the
determination of being in is metaphysics own determination of its subject
matter. This determination leads us away from the general characteristics of
being toward the nature upon which all beings depend, ousia. Analogously,
the mathematician treats quantities as if they were separate (M 3, 1078a1420)
and seeks to demonstrate their attributes, but were she to inquire into the
first causes of mathematical entities she, too, would be led to the ousiai in
which they inhere. In the case of mathematics, however, this investigation of
ousiai would belong to a different science. The metaphysician treats being as
if it were separate, that is, qua being. But this treatment itself leads us to see
the necessity for the treatment of ousia. That is to say, the treatment of being
transforms itself: the transition from inquiry into being to inquiry into ousia
remains within metaphysics.
The process by which the subject matter of metaphysics is determined in
13 is strikingly different from the ways Aristotle approaches the subjects of
particular sciences. For example, it is clear from the beginning of the Physics
that the proper subject of this science is nature, and Aristotle even dismisses
the one that Parmenides proposes as a principle on the ground that it excludes
the possibility of nature (A 2, 184b25185a19). From the definition of nature as
an internal principle of motion (B 1, 192b2023), it follows that physics must
study motion ( 13), and this, in turn, requires a consideration of the infinite ( 48), place, void ( 19), and time ( 1014), as Aristotle argues at 1,
200b1221. In short, the subjects to be treated in physics are its subject genus,
nature, and its real and apparent per se attributes: time, void, and place.
Why does Aristotle not use the same procedure to determine the subject
matter of metaphysics? Why not begin from being qua being, decide on its
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per se attributes and then investigate them? The answer is obvious. We do

not yet know what the subject matter of metaphysics is. The inquiry into
being that is essential to metaphysics is an inquiry into the sciences subject
matter. Thus, the chief problem of metaphysics is just to determine what it
ought to investigate.
This self-determination is apparent in the way that Aristotle pursues the
problem. In the seeming absence of a subject matter it is unclear whether there
is a science of metaphysics. It is just this question of existence that the first group
of aporiai pose in different ways by asking about the unity of the science. We
have seen that book shows that the science exists by showing that, because
it has one subject matter, it is one. And what is this subject matter? Just being
and one, Aristotle claims here. In other words, Aristotle shows that metaphysics is and is one by showing that being is and is one: the being and the unity of
metaphysics turns on an investigation of being and one. In determining being
and one, metaphysics is thus determining its own existence and unity. In the
opening chapter of book E (1025b813), Aristotle suggests that unlike other sciences that take their subject matters on hypothesis, metaphysics determines its
own subject matter. We can now see what this means. Metaphysics is unique
among the sciences because of its subject matter. In investigating its subject matter, being and one, metaphysics is determining the existence and unity of this
subject matter and also determining its own being and unity. Thus, the science
of metaphysics, as Aristotle understands it, is thoroughly reflexive.
5.7 Being and One

Aristotle often speaks of one as coordinate with being, but he uses it mainly
as an instrument in 13. As we have seen, he argues for the being, or existence, of metaphysics by showing that this science and its subject matter are
each one. He includes opposites and same, like, and so forth in the science of
metaphysics by tracing them to one and arguing that one should be included
by virtue of its connection with being. One is clearly methodologically subordinate to being. We can surmise that it is metaphysically subordinate as
well. Since the topics discussed by dialecticians and sophists are questions
of unity and identity that derive from one, one is probably a kind of essential
attribute of being or, rather, both are attributes of the nature that is and is
one. On the other hand, the opening chapters of book speak of one as if
it were nearly the same as being. Aristotle asserts that they make clear the
same nature (1003b2223), he speaks of primary one (1004a26; 1005a68), and
he virtually equates being qua being with one qua one (1004b5). Book K also
expresses their similarity:
402
It makes no difference whether a being is led back to being or to one. For

even if they are not the same but different, at least they convert: for what
is one is somehow a being and a being is one (3, 1061a1518).
Led back to being or to one probably expresses the same idea as Aristotles
claim that the contraries are led back to being and not-being or to one and
many (1004b2729; I 4, 1055b2729) and as his account of the opposites in terms
of their relation to one (1004a2528).
Even while asserting the interchangeability of being and one, Aristotle also
recognizes their differences. The preceding quotation from book K suggests
they differ, but convert. They convert in the sense that they, as the third
argument in 2 notes, make clear the same nature, even if they do not have
the same formula (1003b2225). This last passage adds that their species are
equinumerous (1003b3334); it does not say identical. Thus, the identity of
being and one is referential, and the science that considers the nature that is
or is one will have to consider both because every nature is and is one essentially. Likewise, it makes no difference whether all things are led back to one
or to being not because being and one are the same, but because the same
nature is the principle of both. Whatever the appearances, it is the nature that
is fundamental, not being or one.
Since both being and one depend upon something else, it is not inconsistent
to say that they are virtually the same and also to say that one is subordinate
to being and is, as it were, its attribute. Apart from the methodological subordination of one, a reason to think one is subordinate is that Aristotle typically
speaks of metaphysics as a science of being and of a things nature as its being.
He uses the locution with X in the dative to speak about Xs essence,
that is, its . Although Aristotles references to a primary one and
what is related to it seem to suggest that one, like being, is a pros hen, we saw
that argument six ascribes a two-tiered pros hen structure to ones: (1) all beings
and ousia are constituted from contraries, and (2) these contraries are led back
to one/many or being/not-being. Despite the implicit identification of one and
being here, it is one that is the principle of contraries. Later in the Metaphysics,
we find that there is no single nature to which all ones are related; instead, in
each category there is a primary one which may account for other ones within
the same categorial genus. We also find later that being has a two-tiered pros hen
structure because all beings are related to instances of the category of ousia, and
all ousiai are related to primary ousia. This differs from the two-tiered structure
of one because on both tiers of beings structure there is some single nature to
which other beings are related, whereas the first tier of ones structure consists
of relations to the whole class of contraries. Although Aristotle maintains, nonetheless, that all ones fall under one science, we saw that the reason for this is
that they are all beings, and beings fall under one science. Even when he draws
403
on a relation to one to include something in the subject matter of metaphysics,

as in the fourth argument, the one that he is talking about is the nature that is
one, and the privation, denial, and so forth of the differentia that characterizes
that nature. That is to say, one serves as a device to speak about the nature that
is one. Since such natures are the causes of unity, and since these natures are
the being of the thing, it seems that being is the cause of unity. So even though
one and being both depend on a nature, being has a closer connection with the
nature because a things being is its nature and because primary being is some
nature to which other beings are related. The connection between a nature and
being will be clearer once we consider Aristotles treatment of the PNC. Even
though being and one have the same extensions, they apparently do differ in
formula, just as Aristotle suggests (1003b2225).
Aristotles treatment of being and one bears some resemblance to Platos
discussions in the Parmenides and Sophist, both of which discuss one in conjunction with being. Yet, the contrast is striking. Platos concern is to explore
all the relations between one and what is, for various reasons, not one.99 Being
counts among what is not one, but other; yet, it is also included as what is one.
These dialogues are too complex and difficult to treat here, but let me suggest
that, like Aristotle, Plato is often interested in whether something that is one
also is, but he considers this question by asking whether, and in what respect,
the one is and is not a being. In contrast, Aristotles proper starting point is
the nature that each being must have, and he holds that its being and unity
are consequences of this nature. Hence, he sees being and one as characters
that belong to and are subordinate to things. Since being is a kind of genus,
it is like animal in that we can speak of a generic nature (of a sort) and also
of the things that possess this nature.
It is the generic nature of being that, I propose, provides the key to understanding its connection with one. Because being is a kind of genus, the characteristics of genera apply to it. Since a genus is a one over many, being is a one
over many in that each being is a being or, better, one being. Some remarks
that Aristotle makes about whole in 26 are helpful:
The universal, that is, what, in general [lit., wholly], is said as some
whole, is universal in that it encompasses many by being predicated
of each individual, and all are one because each [is one]; for example,
man, horse and a god [are one] because all are animals (1023b2932; cf.
N 1, 1088a1011).
99. See Edward Halper, Positive and Negative Dialectics: Hegels Wissenschaft der
Logik and Platos Parmenides, in Platonismus im Idealismus: Die Platonische Tradition
in der klassischen deutschen Philosophie, Burkhard Mojsisch and Orrin F. Summerell
(Munich: K. G. Saur Verlag, 2003),21145.
404
In other words, a universal, say, animal or X, is one because each instance

of it is one animal or one X, and collectively all the instances constitute
a whole insofar as they fall under this universal. Thus, any instance of the
genus animal is a single instance of this universal, one animal. Now being is
also a universal (e.g., Z 16, 1040b2126). It must be some sort of whole because
it has parts (cf. 1003a2226), and it is not like any of the other types of things
said to be whole that are discussed in 26. Moreover, we know that being
is predicated of each being (1003b2630). Applying the foregoing description
of universal to being, we can see that all beings are one because each is one
instance of being. Again, each nature is not only a being but one being.
We arrive at the same conclusion by applying 6s account of one by
generic substrate. There Aristotle claims that: horse, man, and dog are each
one because all are animals (1016a27). Since being is a kind of genus, each
individual being will be one as an instance of the genus. Again, each nature
is one because it is one being.
Can it be that the one that Aristotle associates with being explicitly in the
third argument and implicitly throughout 13 is nothing more than the
one that belongs to each instance of a universal or genus? This interpretation would explain Aristotles remarks here. First, we can see clearly why
each nature is both one and being, and why being and one belong to the
natures ousia. Each thing is a being by virtue of its own nature, and insofar
as it is an instance of the genus of being, insofar as it is one being, it is one.
Further, since being has species, each of them is also associated with its own
generic one. Hence, as Aristotle concludes in the third argument, the species
of being are as numerous as the species of one. An advantage of interpreting
the one that belongs to each being as simply the one associated with this
universal is that it demystifies both one and being. Aristotles remarks on the
convertibility of one and being have been taken to support the notion that
they are transcendentals or trans-categorial characters.100 My interpretation
avoids the need to posit such transcendental characters because it makes a
things nature prior to its unity and being and it can, thereby, explain being
and unity without them. Another advantage of my interpretation is that it
explains both why being is prior to one and why Aristotle can still claim that
it makes no difference whether we investigate being or one. If something is
one because it is an instance of the genus being, the two convert even though
being is prior and investigating either will inevitably lead to the nature to
which both belong.
100. For further discussion of the transcendental interpretation of the convertibility

of being and one asserted at 1003b2225, see Edward C. Halper, Aristotle on the
Convertibility of One and Being, The New Scholasticism59 (1985):21327.
405
To conclude this section, we can now see how one can be closely tied to
being and yet still be a tool for studying being. We do not know very much
about either being or one, but it is easier to determine whether some topics
are one or are not one than whether they are or are not. We have a relatively
straightforward criterion of unity because the failure of unity, that is, plurality,
is apparent, whereas the failure of being, non-being, is, obviously, not apparent. Since any nature has both being and one or neither of them, and since it
is relatively easy to see when something is or is not one, one is a convenient
tool for arguing about being.
Again, Aristotle accounts for the possibility of a science of all beings by
showing that being has one generic nature and that this nature has attributes.
Although he terms this nature ousia, he has not yet explained just what it is.
At this point in the inquiry, we know little more about it than that it is some
nature. Aristotles concern in the first three chapters of book is with what
the Posterior Analytics calls an is it question (B 1, 89b2325, 3132), whether
there is a science of metaphysics, but also whether being is, that is, whether
being refers collectively to what is or has its own nature. His arguments are
explicitly directed toward showing that metaphysics is one and, thereby, is.
He shows that metaphysics exists by removing the difficulties that generate
the first four aporiai of book B. The second of these aporiai asks whether the
science of ousia can also consider the demonstrative principles. The seventh
argument shows that the answer is yes, and the rest of book undertakes to
examine these principles.

We know from the seventh argument that an examination of the demonstrative principles should be included in metaphysics, but that argument does
not tell us what, if anything, discussing the principles might contribute to
the chief concern of this science, finding the nature of being. In this section I
argue that Aristotles investigation of the demonstrative principles in 48
is an important component of his inquiry into being. In showing that they
belong to all beings, he determines the characteristics beings must have if
they are to be subject to these principles. My contention here is that, again, one
plays a key role in Aristotles argument. In a way that parallels the arguments
already explored, Aristotle uses one to determine the nature of being. In order
to account for the unity of being, he posits something that is still more one,
namely, ousia. The reason Aristotle can use a discussion of principles of reasoning to account for being is that a principle is a kind of being. I will show that
this ontological notion of a logical principle, utterly alien to us, is fundamental
for understanding Aristotles arguments and concerns in 48.
406
Although Aristotle speaks as if there were many principles of demonstration, he only treats two here. The bulk of his discussion treats the PNC; 7
discusses the PEM. The two principles are closely related: Aristotle uses the
PNC to support the PEM.
Ostensibly, the text of 48 aims to justify these principles. Strictly speaking, there can be no demonstration of the highest demonstrative principles
because any demonstration would already rely upon them (3, 1005b1118; 4,
1006a1011). The most Aristotle can do to support the principles of demonstration is to refute those who would deny them (1006a1113). Thus, 48
present a series of arguments apparently intended to refute denials of these
principles. Most of the literature on this text aims to assess these arguments
and their import, and positions vary widely.101 Since Aristotle thinks that any
argument must depend upon the PNC, it seems obvious that the refutations
of denials could not help but presume the principle.102 Of what value could
they be? Why does Aristotle devote so much attention to establishing a principle that no one could reasonably doubt, a principle that seems to bear only
marginally on his main concerns in the Metaphysics?
Aristotles affirmation of the PNC is neither unique nor particularly surprising; Plato also endorses the principle (Republic 436be). What is especially
interesting about Aristotles treatment is that he thinks the principle extends
101. Terence H. Irwin, Aristotles Discovery of Metaphysics,21729, maintains that
Aristotle has come to recognize such refutations as a kind of demonstration, in
opposition to his doctrine in the Posterior Analytics. He takes this recognition to
be Aristotles discovery of metaphysics. Just what, then, are we to make of the
main thrust of the Metaphysics, the inquiry into being? It does not use the sort of
demonstrations offered in 48. How is it that most of the Metaphysics proceeds
independently of the type of arguments that Irwin takes as the hallmark of metaphysics? Moreover, though Irwin insists (p. 227) that the PNC concerns being qua
being, it is hard to see what the principle tells us about being qua being. For more
remarks on Irwins paper, see Edward C. Halper, Aristotle on the Possibility of
Metaphysics, Revue de Philosophie Ancienne5 (1987):1034.
Alan Code, Aristotles Investigation of a Basic Logical Principle: Which Science
Investigates the Principle of Non-Contradiction? Canadian Journal of Philosophy16
(1986):346, argues against Irwin on the ground that Aristotles argument for the
principle of non-contradiction relies on metaphysical theses concerning Aristotelian
essences, assumptions that would be improper to use in establishing the truth of
a first principle. Code maintains that Aristotle does not intend to demonstrate
the truth of the principle but that the principle is prior to other principles and
that Aristotles demonstration of this presupposes the truth of the principle. S.
Marc Cohen, Aristotle on the Principle of Non-Contradiction, Canadian Journal
of Philosophy16 (1986):36465, endorses Codes criticisms of Irwin.
102. This point is also made by Code, Aristotles Investigation,35657.
407
to all beings (1005a2223).103 In contrast, Plato doubts the universality of its

scope. In the Timaeus he declares that sensibles are the object of belief and
that it is not possible to give an account of them that is at all points entirely
consistent with itself and exact (29c [Cornford trans.]; cf. 51e). Thus, Plato
takes the proper extension of the PNC to be his unchanging forms, though
he does sanction the use of the principle for sensibles derivatively insofar as
they partake of some form.104 On what basis does Aristotle extend the principle to all beings?
As a first step toward answering this question, let us look at Aristotles
formulations of the principle. He presents three in 3: (1) it is impossible for
the same [being] to belong and at the same time () not to belong to the
same [being] in the same respect, and as many other qualifications that we
should give to answer logical difficulties (1005b1920); (2) it is impossible for
103. Despite the clarity of Aristotles claim, G. E. M. Anscombe, Aristotle, in Three
Philosophers, ed. G. E. M. Anscombe and P. T. Geach (Ithaca, N. Y.: Cornell
University Press, 1976),4045, argues that the PNC applies only to ousiai. I would
agree with this conclusion provided that ousiai is properly understood, but she
means to deny that the PNC applies to instances of other categories, like colors.
Were this Aristotles view, he could not have presented a science of color in the
De Sensu because he thinks that every branch of knowledge presupposes the
PNC. Anscombes arguments turn on ambiguities in the way predicates that
are not ousiai refer to things. But unambiguous reference could be made to these
predicates and they, too, can be known. Michael J. Degnan, What is the Scope of
Aristotles Defense of the PNC? Apeiron23 (1999):24361, examines and rejects
each of Anscombes arguments.
M. V. Wedin, The Scope of Non-Contradiction: A Note on Aristotles Elenctic
Proof in Metaphysics 4, Apeiron23 (1999):23142, argues that Aristotles first
argument for the PNC extends to all beings because even accidents are essentially predicated of something. Thus, he assumes that Aristotles first argument
is successful for what is predicated essentially. I find Wedins formulation of the
first argument unconvincing, and even accidental predications are subject to the
PNC. It is implausible to think that there is some sort of essential predication even
when an assertion is clearly accidental.
104. In the Republic passage that I cited earlier in this paragraph, Plato applies the PNC
to tops and other sensibles. However, this application presupposes the existence
of forms, a point brought out more fully in the discussion of the three fingers
(523be). [See Reginald E. Allen, The Argument from Opposites in Republic V,
Review of Metaphysics15 (1961):327.] The sensibles are subject to the principle just
to the degree that they partake of the forms: to say that what is large is small is
a contradiction that must be denied, but to say that a finger is large and small,
apparently a contradiction in Platos view, is to summon thought to distinguish
sensibles from non-sensibles. That is to say, Plato thinks that, in themselves, the
sensibles are not subject to the principle. More on this subject shortly.
408
contraries to belong at the same time () to the same [being] along with the
usual qualifications (1005b2627); (3) it is impossible for the same person to
believe at the same time () the same [being] to be and not to be (1005b2324;
b2930; 4, 1005b3536). A fourth formulation is mentioned in the arguments:
(4) it is impossible for a being (or for the same [being]) to be and not to be at
the same time () (4, 1006a34; b1819; b2832; also B 2, 996b30).105
There are at least three striking features of these formulations. First, there
is no complete and precise formulation of the principle. Aristotle speaks about
logical difficulties, anticipating perhaps the kind of dialectical objections that
Plato notes in Republic 436b437a. There are evidently an indefinite number
of possible objections, and thus an indefinite number of qualifications. The
lack of a precise formulation contrasts starkly with modern treatments of the
principle as a proposition of predicate logic, (p p). It is often assumed, at
least tacitly, that Aristotles thinking on the PNC would have been clearer
had he had a logical language in which he could express the principle, but his
indefinite formulation signals, instead, that a precise formulation could not
capture the principle. Second, the qualification that Aristotle emphasizes most
often is at the same time or, as we could also translate it, together. There
is no problem in asserting and denying that Socrates is playing a flute as long
as we specify different times. I will come back to this qualification. The third
striking feature of the formulations is that same, a kind of unity, appears
in all formulations of the principle. Even when Aristotle omits this term and
denies that a being could be and not be (1006a34), we must understand
him to deny that the same being could be and not be. Importantly, claims can
only be contradictory if they are about a single subject.
The first formulation figures most prominently in 3. It is closely related
to the second. From the first, which denies the possibility that both x is y
and x is not y, follows the denial that x is y and not-y. The contrary of y is
included in the class of what is not-y because a contrary of something is just
the privation confined to the same genus (cf. 6, 1011b1522). Thus, if x cannot
be both y and y, it follows that contraries cannot be predicated of x. So, this
last formulation, the second, follows from the first. Aristotle uses the second
formulation in an argument to support the third: Someone who believed that
something is and is not would hold contrary beliefs, and thus contraries would
105. Bck, Aristotles Theory of Predication,97, claims that, in an assertion of simple being,
the default value for is is: is per se, actually, and truly. On his view, being
always has existential import. In my view, being can have existential import; and
it does when being signifies what is true. But categorial being and actuality/
potentiality do not signify the real presence of natures. However, in the treatment of the PNC, Aristotle is making assertions of truth and, as we will see, he
requires that the subject have a categorial determination.
409
belong at the same time to the same thing, namely, the person. Since this
would violate the PNC (second formulation), it must be impossible to believe
that something is and is not (1005b2330).106 This last, the third formulation,
is psychological; it asserts the impossibility of believing an instance of the
fourth formulation. It is tempting to say that if we cannot believe it, it (the
fourth formulation) cannot be true, but the fourth formulation is not so much
a consequence of the third as it is presupposed by all. If y is being, then the
first formulation is the same as the fourth. More cogently, if y cannot be and
also not be, then x cannot be y and y; for, if it were, y would be and not be.
Thus, the first follows from the fourth. Although the fourth formulation does
not appear in 3, Aristotle mentions it in 48, as I said.
If the denial of the principle cannot be believed, then why does Aristotle
need to go to such lengths to refute those who deny it? Or, to put the question
another way, how could anyone assert a contradiction if no one can believe a
contradiction? Aristotle accuses some of his opponents of denying the principle
only for eristic purposes; they assert contradictions without believing them.
Others, he thinks, are misled by arguments (5, 1009a1822; 6, 1011a34). To
believe that there are contradictions or to believe that sound arguments support a contradictory conclusion is not necessarily to believe a contradiction.
That is to say, someone who has arguments supporting both claims, does not
necessarily believe that x is and that x is not. Indeed, Aristotle denies that
he could believe this contradiction. Even so, the arguments that seem to lead
to the contradiction need to be disarmed. Alternatively, someone might make
contradictory claims but think them true at different times, in different respects,
and so forth. The notion that he would thereby be believing a contradiction
also needs to be disarmed. Hence, it is consistent for Aristotle to examine in
detail a view that he thinks no one could really hold.
The more important question is whether Aristotle is right to say that no
one can affirm a contradiction. There are at least three reasons to think he is
not: (1) elenchic arguments aim to show that interlocutors hold contradictory
beliefs; (2) beliefs in contradictions are not themselves contradictory;107 and
106. Jan Lukasiewicz, Aristotle on the Law of Contradiction, in Articles on Aristotle:

3. Metaphysics, ed. Jonathan Barnes, Malcolm Schofield, and Richard Sorabji (New
York: St. Martins Press, 1979),5253, criticizes the argument on the ground that
beliefs in contradictory claims are not themselves contrary. He thinks that Aristotle
begs the question by assuming that they are. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics:
Books , , and E,8990, expresses the same objection by saying that the argument
violates the intentionality of belief. In the next paragraphs I defend Aristotles
argument.
107. See Lukasiewicz, Aristotle on the Law of Contradiction,5354.
410
(3) contradictory attributes are sometimes ascribed to God.108 None of these

reasons is compelling. Scholars sometimes speak of elenchic arguments as if
they aimed to ferret out beliefs that opponents had tucked away in old closets
and to lay those beliefs next to each other in order to make it apparent that
the beliefs contradict each other.109 If this were so, then people would indeed
believe contradictions. However, elenchic arguments aim to ferret out and
derive consequences from an interlocutors beliefs. When the interlocutor sees
that the consequences are contradictory, he sees that he must reject one of the
initial beliefs. A set of beliefs from which a contradiction can be derived is not
itself a contradiction, as Aristotle describes contradiction here. Indeed, elenchic
argument presupposes that no one can believe a contradiction, for otherwise it
would not force the interlocutor to revise his beliefs.
As for the second reason, we tend to think of holding contradictory beliefs
as a matter of believing two claims that just happen to be contradictory.
Inconsistent beliefs might be like this, but, again, Aristotle ascribes a definite
form to a contradiction and, thus, to contradictory beliefs: to believe a contradiction is to believe x is and x is not or x is y and x is not y at the same
time, in the same respect, and so forth. What does someone believe about x
if he believes that it is and that it is not? To believe x is someone must have
the form x in his mind. What else he has in his mind is unclear: there is no
form of being that is outside of the form of x. Perhaps, he simply supposes x
to be present or in some place. What, then, does he think when he supposes
x is not? Either he has no form of x in his mind or he has the thought of this
forms absence, its not being in some place, or something of this sort. How,
then, could he think and not think this form, or think it in some place and
also not there? The problem is exacerbated when we recall Aristotles doctrine that, in knowledge, the mind becomes the forms it thinks (De Anima
4, 429a2729, 429b29430a3). To think that some x is and is not is, then, either
108. See Nicholas of Cusa, Selected Spiritual Writings, trans. H. Lawrence Bond, Classics of
Western Spirituality (New York: Paulist Press, 1997),11819. The title of Chapter 22
of On Learned Ignorance is How the Providence of God Unites Contradiction.
109. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,8990, claims that Aristotle
does not make clear whether the PNC rules out believing veiled contradictions such as Balaam rode on an ass but not a donkey. On the other hand,
Jonathan Lear, Aristotle and Logical Theory (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1980),99, goes too far in the other direction when he claims that Aristotle
intend[s] only to rule out the possibility of self-conscious belief in two statements known to be contradictory. As I understand the discussion, Aristotle
excludes believing x is y and x is not y whether or not one knows this to
be a contradiction.
411
to think and not to think form x or to think x is present or in a place and also
to think it not there. That is to say, because the mind becomes what it thinks,
thinking some contradiction amounts to the minds itself becoming contradictory. We cannot imagine anyones believing both sides of a contradiction
because we cannot imagine his mind in contradiction. As long as we grant
to Aristotle that contradictions must have the form he ascribes to them and
that ones mind somehow becomes what one thinks, beliefs in contradictions
are indeed contradictory.
Third, some religious discourse ascribes contradictory attributes to God, and
this is formally contradictory. However, the point of ascribing contradictory
attributes to God is to show that He exists on a higher plane than our reason
can fathom. It is not that we believe the contradiction, but that we recognize
our inability to grasp God. It is just because we cannot really believe that God
is contradictory that we come to recognize the limits of our rational faculty.
Hence, the discourse does not aim to encourage us to embrace a contradiction
but to suspend thought.
In short, none of these three objections shows that we can believe a contradiction. Contradictory beliefs are impossible if contradictions in reality
are impossible: if beliefs constitute a contradiction, they cannot be ascribed
at once to one person. Since no one does actually believe a contradiction, it is
reasonable to say that all believe the principle, despite their apparent denials,110
and it is for this reason that Aristotle can focus his attention on ontological
formulations of it. He shows that we cannot believe a contradiction by showing that there cannot be contradictions. As Aristotle puts it:
It will not be possible for the same to be and not be except equivocally,
so that if we call someone a man, someone else might call him notman. The puzzling thing is not whether it is possible for the same thing
at the same time to be and not be a man in [its] name, but [whether it is
possible to be and not be this] thing ( ) (1006b1822).
110. George I. Mavrodes, Aristotle and Non-Contradiction, Southern Journal of

Philosophy3 (1965):11114, objects to Aristotles claim that everyone believes the
principle on the ground that many people have never thought about the principle.
For Aristotle, believing the principle is not endorsing a formal statement of it; he
does not even give us a complete statement of it. Aristotle would count someone
as believing the principle as long as he accepted that believing some particular
X is not compatible with believing its opposite. Anyone who agrees that there is
something known is committed to the principle and implicitly believes it because
there would be no knowledge without its being true.
412
Thus, the central issue here is not linguistic but ontological.111

With this we can return to the ontological question about the extension of
the PNC raised earlier. To ask about the extension of a logical principle is apt
to seem inappropriate. Insofar as the principle is a logical one, we suppose
that it must be as universal as logic. The notion that logic might be limited
in its applicability to certain kinds of things seems absurd.112 Although contemporary logicians do entertain the possibility that logical principles like
the PNC might not apply on certain occasions or not at all, logic is generally
taken to be global rather than local. If, though, the highest causes are things,
then logic must either be or depend upon things. In their absence, it would
simply not obtain. Aristotles approach to the PNC has not been understood
because readers have not appreciated how different his assumptions about
logic are from assumptions we typically take for granted not only in traditional
logic, but also when we reflect on alternative logics. I sketch here a logic that
is based on ontology.
That Aristotles central issue in treating the PNC is ontological implies that
whether the principle holds depends on the nature of things, not in the sense
that the things might change and invalidate logical principles but insofar as
the existence of logic depends on determining the nature that things have. The
point is that there will not be a PNC or a logic unless things have certain sorts
of natures. To put it differently, the existence of logic hangs on the nature of
things. Contemporary metaphysicians often assume the opposite: they suppose
that logical principles, like the PNC, must be true and ask what sort of entities
there must be in order that it be true. Aristotle assumes that logical principles
111. It has been argued that the PNC is a psychological principle; see Jonathan Barnes,
The Law of Contradiction, Philosophical Quarterly19 (1969):309; Thomas V. Upton,
Psychological and Metaphysical Dimensions of Non-Contradiction in Aristotle,
Review of Metaphysics36 (1983):592602. Most of the texts Upton cites are from
the Analytics. The psychological interpretation is a convenient way to avoid the
ontological implications of Aristotles assumption of significant speechto be
discussed later; but Aristotles arguments about essences and ousiai show that he
means these implications seriously.
An interesting twist on the psychological interpretation is Codes claim
(Aristotles Investigation of a Basic Logical Principle, 35457) that Aristotle aims
to prove not the principle itself but only that we could not doubt it. The above
quotation indicates that Aristotle thinks that more than our acceptance of the
principle is at stake here. However, Codes interpretation is, I think, a response to
the problem that motivates mine, namely, that the truth of the principle is prior to
and more obvious than the assumptions Aristotle uses in his arguments for it.
112. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,93, 205, considers whether the
PNC denies all contradictory predicates or just those that contradict a things
essential nature. This is one type of scope issue, but Kirwan does not comment
on its significance.
413
express characteristics of things and, thus, that if the principles are true, it is
because of the way things are. Indeed, the logical principle itself must have
some sort of reality in things as their ousia or as some sort of attribute. Later,
we will see that there is less distance between these fundamental assumptions than initially appears. In one important respect, however, Aristotles
approach is different. If logic is fundamental, it makes no sense to ask about
its scope: insofar as everything depends upon it, logic must have universal
scope. If, though, ontology is fundamental, as Aristotle thinks, then it does
make sense to ask about the scope of logic. That is to say, if logic depends on
certain features of things, then we can ask whether there are any things with
those features, and we can expect logic to apply only to such things. Again,
the primacy of ontology along with logics dependency on it makes it possible
to ask how far logic extends or, equivalently: what characters make things
subject to logic, and which sorts of things have those characters? One reason
to think that ontology is indeed primary is that, however we understand the
PNC or even all of logic, we need to decide what sort of entity a logical principle
is. If we need to decide on the ontological status of the PNC in any case, if we
cannot use the principle without making some implicit assumptions about
ontology, then logic presupposes ontology. Of course, we do not need to reflect
on logical principles to use logic, but we will treat the principles differently
if we take them to be defeasible than we will if we take them to be part of the
unalterable architecture of the universe. Hence, ontology is primary.
From a contemporary perspective, to prove the PNC is to prove that it must
hold of everything. From Aristotles perspective, however, to prove the PNC
is to find something for which the principle holds. Again, the issue is whether
there is any being that has the features that would allow the PNC to apply
to it. The PNC is not necessarily contingent, but it is, on my reading, a claim
about the world. It may be objected that since Aristotle claims that the PNC
is the firmest principle and most necessary to know anything (1005b1117),
this principle must surely be universal. My response is that it must extend
to whatever is known, but the issue is what can be known. As I said earlier,
Plato thinks that forms are properly knowable, but sensibles are not. Aristotle
claimed in A 2 that metaphysics knows all things to the extent possible
(982a910). But that does not mean that everything can be known or, perhaps,
the extent to which all things can be known is so slight or non-existent that
the principle does not apply. In fact, Aristotle does think that the principle
extends to all beings, but he needs to argue this point.
First, he needs to show that the principle belongs to something, that is, that
something is knowable. In this context we can understand Aristotles remarks
that those who deny the principle are unaware of the existence of things that
are unchanging (5, 1009a3638; 1010a13; 1010a2535; 8, 1012b3031). The idea
414
is that such things could not change and so falsify claims made about them.113
Hence, any true claim about them must always be true and, thus, count as
knowledge. How, though, do we know that there must be something that does
not change? This must be argued. Once it is argued, Aristotle needs to extend
the principle to other things.
There is, I propose, a basis in the principles formulations for ascribing the
principle to what does not change and for expanding its extension. In all four
formulations Aristotle uses the same to stand for the same being, and it
is clearly this being to which the principle belongs (3, 1005a22).
Same, Aristotle tells us, designates a unity possessed by a plurality or the
unity of something that is treated as if it were a plurality ( 9, 1018a78). Again,
there would be no contradiction in asserting the same is x and x if same
referred to a plurality of subjects. Hence, the denial that the same is x and
x only counts as the PNC if same refers to a single subject treated as if it
were a plurality. That is to say, the PNC, in all its formulations, denies contradiction of one subject. Were there no single subject, the principle would assert
nothing. Hence, the principle presupposes that some being is one. Because
one is commonly used in English without any special weight, most readers
overlook same in Aristotles formulations.
Since change requires matter, anything that is without matter would not
change and would thus not be rendered many through matter.114 Hence, what
is unchanging is one to a greater degree than what is sensible. As such, it
meets the essential criterion to be subject to the PNC. Anyone who recognizes the existence of unchanging things would therefore have a subject to
which the principle could apply. In contrast, those who deny that there are
unchanging beings suppose that all beings are material and, thus, apparently have nothing that meets the unity criterion for the PNC. Thinking that
everything is in flux, they deny that there is anything that is properly one,
and it follows that the principle is false because there is nothing of which
it ever holds. We can now understand why Aristotle tells us that Cratylus
corrects Heraclitus assertion of the impossibility of stepping into the same
river twice. Cratylus denies that it is possible to step into the same river even
once (1010a1215). In perpetual flux, the river is never the same; it is not a
single subject. Since there is no single river, no principle or claim about what
is one could apply to it. Hence, it escapes the PNC. If everything sensible is in
113. Hintikka, Time & Necessity,64, 68, 7275, argues that Aristotles paradigm for
knowledge claims is the temporally indefinite sentence and that the constancy of
the truth of such claims depends on the objects being unchanging. Philip Merlan,
Hintikka and a Strange Aristotelian Doctrine, Phronesis15 (1970):93100, applies
this insight to Metaphysics s treatment of the PNC. More on Merlan later.
114. The case of a statement whose truth value changes when circumstances alter
(Cat.5, 4a21b2) is not an exception because the statement does not change.
415
flux, and if all beings are sensible (1010a13), then the PNC is false because
it holds of no being.
Before we continue, let us look again at Aristotles formulations of the PNC,
for someone might object to my contention that same refers to the being of
which the principle holds by pointing to the first formulation: it is impossible
for the same [being] to belong and at the same time not to belong to the same
[being] in the same respect. Here Aristotle mentions same twice, once as
subject and again as predicate. Of which being does the principle hold? Does
the PNC belong to a being x because (1) x cannot belong and not belong to the
same substrate or because (2) no attribute can belong and not belong to x? In
other words, does the principle belong to the being signified by the same
in the subject position or the being signified by the same in the predicate
position? Let us suppose that the first alternative is right, that the principle
applies to a being because that being cannot belong and not belong to the same
substrate. Then, the principle could not belong to individual ousiai, which are
not predicated of or present in a subject (Cat. 5.2a1114), except in the empty
sense that no ousia could violate the principle. Suppose, on the other hand, that
the second alternative is right, that the principle applies to a being because
no attribute can both belong and not belong to it. Then, the principle could
apply to an ousia, but not to attributes that have no attributes of their own (cf.4,
1007b23) except, again, in an empty way. If, moreover, unmoved movers are
strictly one and have no inhering attributes, then they would not fall under
the PNC on either interpretation of the first formulation.
It might be thought, as a third alternative, that (3) the principle applies to
different sorts of beings in different ways, asserting of ousiai that they cannot
possess contrary attributes and of attributes that they and their contraries cannot belong to the same ousia. However, it is hard to see how the PNC could be
a principle if it belonged to different kinds of things differently. It is also hard
to see how an attribute would possess a contradiction if it belonged and did not
belong to a single ousia. Then, too, how would the principle belong to beings
like mathematicals that have attributes but also are themselves attributes of
ousiai? The point here is that though the PNC is supposed to apply to beings, it
is not clear exactly how it does apply. At least, the first formulation of the PNC
is ambiguous. It seems to belong most properly to ousiai or to attributes that
act like ousiai. If we rely only on this formulation, the PNC could not belong
universally to each being, unless it belongs differently to different kinds of
being. Perhaps someone will insist that since the PNC excludes contradiction,
it does not apply at all. This is, indeed, the way we usually think of it, but
then it makes no sense to ask about the scope of the principlethat is the
key question for Aristotle and Greek philosophynor does it make sense to
consider the ontological status of the principle, the question we need to raise
to understand how its discussion contributes to the inquiry into being.
416
The second formulation of the principle seems likewise to apply only to

what can be qualified by one of a pair of contraries and, thus, not to all beings.
The third formulation is, as we have seen, psychological and derivative. In
contrast, the fourth formulation has none of these problems. It is easy to see
how it belongs to all beings. Just as it is impossible for the same man to be and
not to be at the same time, in the same way, and so forth, so it is impossible for
sweet to be and not to be at the same time, in the same respect, and so forth.
This formulation does not appear in 3, and it is fair to say that that chapter
conceives of the principle as belonging to ousiai.115 It is when Aristotle extends
the principle beyond ousiai to all beings in 5 that he relies on this formulation
of the principle. Hence, the fourth formulation of the principle is the most general
and the most important for Aristotles claim of universality. The fact that he
does not introduce it immediately supports my earlier claim that the initial issue
is whether there is anything at all to which the principle belongs. He needs to
answer this question before he can consider how widely the principle extends.
It is easiest to understand the principle as denying contrary attributes of some
ousia, and that is probably why Aristotle begins with the initial formulations.
All the formulations ascribe the principle to what is the same, that is, to what
is one. The question of how widely it extends turns on the question of what
things are one and, in particular, which of them have that sort of unity that
the principle requires. That only what is one could be subject to the principle
explains why, as noted earlier, Plato limits the applicability of the principle
to forms. As he claims in the Phaedo, only the forms are each one ()
and always the same ( ); sensibles are never the same
(80b). To say that a sensible is and also that it is not does not violate the PNC if
the sensible in both claims is not one and the same. It is not that Plato proves
that sensibles necessarily contradict themselves, but that the PNC simply does
not apply to them because they are never the same as themselves.
To ask how far the PNC extends is, thus, to ask what things are one or the
same in the pertinent way.116 Aristotle rejects Platos notion that only what is
strictly unchanging can be one and the same. At one point, Aristotle restricts
115. Merlan, Hintikka and a Strange Aristotelian Doctrine,98, considers the basis
for Aristotles extension of the principle to what changes, but he conceives this
as a question about the applicability of the principle to sensible ousiai.
116. Vasilis Politis, Aristotle and the Metaphysics (London: Routledge, 2004),125, says:
So Aristotle, like Plato, argues that, if we want to defend the . . . PNC . . ., we need
to investigate with particular care various ways in which things may or may not
be unitary. Politis also recognizes the ontological dimension to Aristotles consideration of the PNC (p. 123). So does Gianluigi Pasquale, Aristotle and the Principle of
Non-Contradiction (Sankt Augustin, Germany: Academica Verlag, 2005),1718, but
he sees the PNC, implausibly, as carving out a rather large swatch that includes
ousia and its attributes within a unity protected from contradiction.
417
same to things whose ousia is one ( 15, 1021a1014), in contrast with like
and equal which are unities of quality and quantity. Aristotle is not speaking
here of the categorial genus of ousia, but of the ousia that signifies an essence
in any genus, as when we ask of a quantity or quality, what is it?, and expect
to learn its nature or essence (Z 1, 1028b12). Insofar as it has an essence, any
being is one ousia. Is this the sort of unity that a being requires in order that
the PNC apply to it? If so and if each being has some sort of essence, then the
PNC does extend to all beings.
Thinking back on the opening chapters of , we can recall that every being
is one because one and being convert with each other (1003b2225). Aristotle
traces both unity and being to man or some other nature, but convertibility does
not require a nature. Since being is a quasi-generic universal, each being will
be one insofar as it is a single instance of this genus. This unity is not the unity
that belongs to a nature or ousia. In order to motivate the PNC and understand
its significance, let us imagine a universe in which there were no further refinements to unity or being. Everything would belong to the pros hen genus of being
and, as such, would be, and the being of everything would be the same. Such a
universe would be Heraclitean, a world of contradiction. The reason is easy to
see. Aristotle claims that everything related to ousia is a being, and he includes
among the latter, opposites, contraries, and even not-beings (1003b10). It follows
that each being, as well as the denial of this being, its not-being, can be said to
be. Moreover, being and its denial are each one insofar as each is a being. That is
to say, for any being x, x is and not-x is, and their being is the same, simple
being. But, here, in this simple universe where x is nothing more than a being,
not-x is the denial of this being; thus, not-x is expresses the same claim as
x is not.117 Hence, x is and x is notcontradiction! Again, for any being
x, x is and not-x is. But it is also true that not-x is the denial of a being and
so, is not. Hence, the same subject, not-x, is and is notcontradiction! In short,
if a subject whose unity is the unity that converts with being is rightly called
the same, then the same being is and is not. Since Aristotle declares that even
a non-being is, and since whatever is is one, it is true that this non-being is
one; but insofar as it is a non-being, the non-being is not. Since each being is
and is one in the same way, the non-being that is and is not is one and the same
non-being. In short, contradictions abound!
The point of this thought-experiment is that, insofar as Aristotle includes
both beings and non-beings within the pros hen genus of being, and insofar
as the unity he ascribes to instances of this genus is the coarse unity of an
instance of a universal, he cannot avoid falling into contradiction. Of course,
Aristotle will have none of this. He posits the PNC. My claim is that he needs
117. More on this assumption shortly.
418
the PNC not because he must answer Heraclitus and others who claim to deny
it, but because he himself risks a Heraclitean universe in consequence of his
own pros hen doctrine of being. Alternatively, beings apparent violation of the
PNC would challenge the pros hen doctrine itself, and without the PNC, the
principle of knowledge, we could not claim even to know that being is pros hen.
And without the latter doctrine, we would fall back into the first aporia. If this
is right, then in arguing for the PNC, Aristotle is supporting his own pros hen
doctrine against a serious objection that would, if it stands, undo s solution
to the first aporia, along with the solutions to the next three aporiai because they
depend on the solution to the first. We can surmise that his principal concern
in 48 is not with refuting opponents, though he does mention some, but
with putting his own account on a more solid foundation.
At the root of the threatened contradiction is our apparent inability to distinguish what is from what is not. Since every being equally is and is one, any being
that is would be identical with any being that is not. The obvious way to avoid
such a contradiction is to recognize that beings have natures that distinguish
them from each other. Then, the nature that is need not be the same as the
nature that is not. Each nature would still be one; but it would be a different
one from the one that belongs to another nature, and both would differ from the
one that belongs to any being. We will see that the PNC requires the existence
of such natures, and that asserting it is tantamount to asserting the existence
of natures or ousiai. If this is right, then the PNC contributes a necessary refinement to the doctrine of being that Aristotle spells out in 12.
Perhaps, though, we have moved too quickly here. Many readers will be
reluctant to agree that the pros hen doctrine puts Aristotle at risk of affirming
a contradiction. According to Kirwan, 1003b10 aims to skirt this contradiction.
He imagines that Greek grammar seduced some of Aristotles predecessors into
inferring from X is that X is, confusing the copula with the existential
is. He supposes that Aristotle notices that if is non-existent, the inference
cannot be made and concludes that the proper inference here is the denial of
the existence of X. Kirwan claims that this denial cannot be combined with
the thesis that the denial depends on X, since X is non-existent.118 In effect,
Kirwan is telling a story to give the text the opposite of its plain meaning,
namely, that the denial of X does indeed depend on X; and his interpretation is motivated by a deep assumption that Aristotle could not possibly be
saying anything that would violate the PNC. In refusing to see the risk, Kirwan
undermines Aristotles motivation to discuss the PNC.
118. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,8081. Paul Thom, The Principle
of Non-Contradiction in Early Greek Philosophy, Apeiron32 (1999):167, cites
Kirwan, but he concludes that this passage is asserting the validity of the inference from X is to X is.
419
Perhaps we can save Aristotle from contradiction by saying that, though

not-X is and not-X is not, not-X is and is not in different respects. However,
it is one thing to insist on a difference in respect, quite another to locate the
difference. Suppose that some X is Y and is not Y, but in different respects.
To show that the PNC is not violated, we would need to distinguish these
respects, for example, a difference in time, place, relation, or something else.
Alternatively, we could show that the X that is Y is not the same X that is not.
The problem is that because everything is included in being, it is not possible
to spell out any difference among beings insofar as they are beings, just as
we could not distinguish one animal from another animal insofar as it is an
animal. Thus, to be Y and to be not-Y are both beings, and they do not differ
insofar as they are beings, nor does Y at one time differ from Y at another.
So even though we can say that X is Y at one time and not-Y at another, and
even though these are different relations to primary being, they are equally
beings. Indeed, not only can we not distinguish the respects in which Y does
or does not belong to X, but neither can we distinguish one X from another
in respect of its being. If being includes everything, then everything alike is
being, even non-being. Unable to distinguish different not-Xes or different
respects, we apparently fall into contradiction and violate the principle.
Another objection to my reasoning might be that it assumes, wrongly, that
not-X is expresses the same claim as X is not. I made this identification
in order to juxtapose X is not with X is, an obvious contradiction. It will
be objected that the identification must be false because not-X is and X is
are not contradictory, for suppose X is man. Since a fish is not a man, not-X
is is made true by the existence of a fish, and this latter is consistent with
X is, the existence of man. Thus, if there are natures, there is no contradiction; but I am imagining here, contrary to fact, a world in which there are no
determinate natures, but entities that can only be identified as beings or as
ones. In such a world, we cannot distinguish different Xes, and not-X is
contradicts X is. My point is that Aristotle needs to introduce natures to
avoid contradictions. To try to undermine my argument by presupposing
natures is to concede my conclusion.
Again, the unity and sameness in respect of which something is subject to
the PNC is not the unity that belongs to a being insofar as it is a being. What
other type of unity would allow something to be subject to the principle? The
problem with the unity that converts with being is that it belongs to every
being. We might wonder whether the unity associated with something less
universal than being might work. Consider, then, a unity that is associated
with a narrower universal. There are at least three candidates: a species of
being, a species of one, and an ordinary genus like animal. The first two
have the same problem as being; they apparently include opposites within
them, for the not-beings that are also beings also fall within these species. A
420
genus like animal is a better prospect. However, animal is footed and animal
is non-footed. The reason that these claims are not a contradiction is that
there are different species of animal, some footed and some non-footed. But
it would be a contradiction if animal were one or the same in the pertinent
ways. Hence, the unity associated with animal does not suffice for the PNC.
In order to say that the PNC has not been violated, we need to identify a one
that is closer to the individual. It is the individual animal that could not be
footed and non-footed in the same respect. My point is that Aristotles assertion of the PNC depends on locating some individual(s) of which it could
hold. Each such individual must be sufficiently one that it can be the same
in Aristotles formulations of the PNC. Were this subject indistinguishable
in character from what belongs to it, we would face the same sort of problem
we had with being. Again, applying the principle requires a subject with a
distinct character. This character is, we will see, the things essence.
As long as there is a single formula of many thingsas there is if all are
beingscontradiction threatens. Indeed, the Physics describes in precisely
these terms the position of the figure chiefly associated with the denial of
contradiction, Heraclitus: he is said to maintain that all is one in formula (A2,
185b1925). Aristotles own account of being in 13 is, in this respect, close
to the Heraclitean picture of the universe; for if being has a nature, then it
should have a formula that belongs to all beings. Aristotles problem in 48
is how to have a science of all beings and yet avoid a Heraclitean world. As
we might expect, he solves the problem by introducing another important
doctrine, the doctrine that allows individuals to be known properly through
their own essential formulae.

Several of Aristotles arguments for the PNC turn on refuting those whom he
takes to deny that the principle applies to sensibles. These arguments appear
in 5. Before Aristotle can extend the principle to sensibles, he must show
first that it holds at least sometimes. This is the task of the arguments in 4.
In order for the principle to be true, there must be some entity of which it is
true. We have seen that this entity is not simply a being and that the unity that
a being has, as a being, does not suffice to make it a subject of which contrary
predicates can be denied. The unity that allows something to be subject to the
PNC is greater than the unity that makes it a being. It has not yet been shown
that there is something with this sort of unity.
As I said, because there is no principle that is higher than the PNC, Aristotle
cannot argue deductively for it. He must, therefore, rely on dialectical refutation
of those who deny the principle; but this is no easy task since, having denied
421
the PNC, they are unlikely to be swayed by their own inconsistency. The path
Aristotle takes is to insist that those who deny the PNC say something. All
the arguments against the denial of the PNC (and also against the denial of
the principle of the excluded middle [PEM]) begin from the assumption that
a word signifies something:
The starting point of all such arguments is not the demand for our
opponent to say that something either is or is notthat might seem to
beg the questionbut for him to signify something to himself and to
another (1006a1820; see also 1012a2224).
Shortly after this claim, Aristotle explains what it means for a word to signify
something:
First, it is clear that this itself is true, that [1] the word signifies to be or
not to be something,119 so that not everything will be this way and not
this way. Further, if [2] man signifies [something] one (), let this be
two footed animal. And I mean by signifying one this: if man is
something which is a man, then this [something] is the being of the man
( ) (1006a2834).
In the first of these passages, Aristotle rejects starting with the assumption that something is or is not, and he insists instead that a word signify
something. In the second passage, he explains the proper assumption as
[1] the word signifies to be something and [2] the word signifies one. In a
puzzling addendum, he explains the latter with the example of man signifying something in the thing, its being. That is, to signify one is to refer
to somethings being.
What is the difference between the rejected starting point in the first passage and the accepted starting point as described in the second? Aristotles
wording at [1] is so similar to the first passage that we can sympathize with
Alexander who omitted, or whose text omitted, the not in 1006a19, thereby
bringing the two texts in line.120 However, this cannot be right because Aristotle
makes the same distinction as 1006a19 later in , at 8, 1012b57.121
119. Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria, 275.2326, understands to be
as in apposition with word, and Ross, who agrees with him, renders the last
phrase as the word to be or not to be has a definite meaning. This reading
is not very plausible, and I shall undercut it by proposing a better solution. Ross
may be concerned about the problem I go on to discuss.
121. Schwegler, Die Metaphysik, 3:167, points out that 8, 1012b57 counts decisively in
favor in the manuscript readings of 1006a19.
422
Alternatively, in the first passage Aristotle may be rejecting starting from the
tautology something is or is not, whereas in the second passage he assumes,
at [1], only one of two disjuncts: either the word signifies something that
is or the word signifies something that is not. This interpretation is also
unlikely. First, Aristotle claims that the assumption rejected in the first passage
would beg the question, but assuming something is or is not would not be
tantamount to the PNC if or here were inclusive; and if it is exclusive, the
rejected assumption says the same as [1]. Further, in the assumption that he
endorses, [1], something that is could refer to something that is a being in
that broad sense in which everything is a being, even what is not. But this is
what threatens contradiction; it is hardly a good starting assumption to argue
the PNC. In other words, the problem with the proposed interpretation is that
the assumption Aristotle rejects as begging the question would not beg the
question, and what he accepts in its stead apparently would.
It makes more sense and it is consistent with Aristotles usage to understand
the rejected assumption as the assertion, or denial, of somethings being, whereas
the endorsed assumption is that a word signify somethings nature or essence.
Aristotles usage for both is similar: he uses the infinitive to be ( ) with
a noun in the dative case to indicate the essence of a thing, even though this
literally refers to the things being. In the first passage (1006a1920), he rejects
the assumption that something is, whereas in the second (1006a2930) he
endorses the assumption that the name signifies to be something: he rejects
the assumption of being, and endorses the assumption of essence. To be something is not just to have any meaning, for if the word signified being alone, we
could not prove the PNC. The meaning must be more determinate; it must be
a something rather than just a being. This is what he means in the final quoted
sentence when he says that man signifies one when it signifies the being of
the man. This latter is the nature that makes something a man. Hence, on the
interpretation I am proposing, [1] and [2] are the same assumption, the assumption that man signifies something one, namely, an essence.122
122. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,93, thinks that 1006a2831 contains
a complete argument for the PNC and 1006a3134 introduces a lengthy, second
(extraordinarily mystifying) argument that concludes at 1007a20. Hence, he effectively locates [1] and [2] in distinct arguments, rather than identifying them as I do
here. His division probably depends on linguistic cues: then ( ) (1006a28)
and further () (1006a31) are standard ways Aristotle introduces a new argument.
But this usage is hardly unexceptionable, and the two passages are so clearly making the same point about the assumption (again, cf. 8, 1012b57) that it is wrong to
separate them this way. Importantly, 1006a2831 does not contain an argument. Its
last phrase so that not everything will stand thus and not thus is either an assertion about meaning (that not everything has the same meaning) or, more likely, it
states the conclusion to be drawn at 1006b3334 by the subsequent argument.
423
Importantly, the unity that he refers to here, the unity he implicitly identifies
with essence, is a stronger unity than the unity of being. Aristotle mentions
a formula, two-footed animal, as an example of an essence or a what it is
(1006a3134; cf. 1012a2224).123 It is not properly the formula that is one but the
essence it expresses, and this essence is one because it is indivisible in formula.
In contrast, the unity associated with being is a unity in generic substrate.
This latter does not appear in the qualitative series of 6 (1016b311017a3),
but there is no doubt that one in formula is the greater unity. Aristotle has, in
effect, rejected a weaker unity for another, stronger unity. We can anticipate
that here, as in the preceding portion of book and in the Metaphysics earlier
books, one ( ) will do the work of the argument.
The significance of the assumption that a word signifies an essence becomes
clear in the subsequent argument. Aristotle explains:
For there is something one that it [the word] signifies, and this is the
ousia of something. And to signify ousia means that being for it (
) is nothing else (1007a2527).
That is to say, the term that signifies an ousia signifies only the things essence.
In contrast, a term that signifies a being could, as well, signify a non-being that
is also a being. This seemingly trivial distinction is the key to understanding Aristotles first argument, for it relies on a firm distinction between what
man signifies and what not-man signifies. If man signifies an ousia, then
it signifies nothing else; and not-man must signify whatever is not this ousia
(cf. 1006b1315). Whereas the same being could apparently be and not-be, the
same ousia cannot be man and not-man. In short, with the introduction of
ousia here as the one thing that a term signifies, we have, at last, something
that could be subject to the PNC.124
Aristotle had mentioned ousia early in as the hen of the pros hen,
but he did not specify what it was. The innovation here is to use ousia to
123. Terence H. Irwin, Aristotles Concept of Signification,26165, discusses how to
understand claims, in arguments for the PNC, that words signify. He concludes
that words signify essences rather than meanings. I agree with Irwin on this
point. Essences are ontologically distinct from definitions and other linguistic
entities. The frequent treatment of essence as a set of terms has tended to obscure
the character of the arguments for the PNC.
124. According to Lear, Aristotle and Logical Theory,1045, the one thing signified
must be understood in terms of Aristotles semantics: it is an ousia about which
a predication is made. But this leaves it open to Aristotles opponent simply to
deny his semantics (p. 110). Lear denies that Aristotle can defeat this move or,
therefore, convince the opponent; instead, he thinks Aristotle shows the reader
how incoherent the opponents position is (pp. 11214).
424
characterize individual beings known through their formulae. To follow the

flow of his argument, we must not assume any more specific determination of ousia. That comes later in the Metaphysics. Initially, little else about
ousia is clear besides its possessing, as such, a greater degree of unity than
the unity it possesses as a being, a degree of unity that allows it to be the
same subject of predication and so subject to the PNC.
Why should anyone agree that there is a term that signifies one thing?
Aristotle seems to be answering this question when he claims that if we do
not posit this and if, instead, a term signifies an indefinite number of things,
there will be no discourse () because, not signifying one, the term will
signify nothing, and there will not be conversation ( ) with
another or, in respect of truth, with oneself because it is not possible to think
() without thinking one thing (1006b510). This passage is usually
taken to mean that if a term did not signify one thing, we could not speak
meaningfully.125 However, the context makes it clear that Aristotle is talking
exclusively about scientific discourse. For Aristotle claims that there is no
argument () with someone who will not grant meaningful discourse, but
that if he does grant it, there will be demonstration (1006a2224); and he insists
that conversation with another or oneself depends on thinking (), and
thinking is of one object. Now is a technical term that refers to grasping
an essence; it is not necessary for ordinary conversation, but it is necessary for
definition. Hence, here must refer not to ordinary conversation, but more technically to dialectic, Aristotles art of finding definitions that
his Topics expounds.126 Clearly, without the ability to grasp essences with the
intellect, there cannot be dialectic or argument. In short, Aristotles point here
is that meaningful discourse is necessary for scientific definition and argument.
125. Terence H. Irwin, Aristotles Discovery of Metaphysics,21029, and Aristotles
First Principles,18788. The latter, apparently responding to Codes criticism
(Irwin, p. 550 n. 18), emphasizes that discourse is about things. And Irwin
contrasts this realist conclusion with Nussbaums account (p. 550 n. 19). Irwin
writes: Aristotle does not make it clear what PNC is necessary formeaningful thought or speech, discourse about subjects, or discourse about how things
areabout the sorts of subjects presupposed by science. But the third focus best
suits the place of the argument in the science of being (p. 188). Irwin goes on
to describe this discourse as about subjects and as rational discourse about the
way things are. This resembles the interpretation I am about to advance, but
Irwin probably has in mind something more general than the strict scientific
discourse. In sharp contrast, Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and
E,204, takes Aristotle to be saying without signifying, there will be no saying
or statement.
126. There may be an echo here of the Sophists claim that thought () is a dialogue of the soul with itself (263e35).
425
This is exactly what we would expect him to be concerned with here because
this is his prelude to the argument for the PNC, and the latter is most known
and most necessary to know () before knowing anything else. To be
sure, it turns out that someone who denies there is a term that signifies one
cannot do so without himself signifying one, but that is because his denial
belongs to the technical discourse about what can and cannot be known that
signifying one and the PNC ground.
Ordinary conversation, on the other hand, is not undone by contradiction.
In the beginning of the Philosophical Investigations, Wittgenstein imagines a
situation where people had learned that uttering a word was to be followed
by a particular type of action.127 He is describing a language that does not rely
on signification; words merely stimulate a response. So, too, Harold Pinters
plays often contain conversations that exhibit a pattern of tones and cadence
without any apparent signification. Pinter and Wittgenstein are suggesting
that a good deal of our conversation does not involve signifying objects. Often,
conversation is simply performative. Whether it is possible for none of our
discourse to contain signification is a difficult question. In general, though,
ordinary conversation does not require that words signify individual things.
Nor, consequently, would the rejection of the PNC make ordinary conversation
impossible: most of us even countenance a certain amount of inconsistency in
ourselves and others. Indeed, some contemporary thinkers question whether
the PNC is necessary even for scientific knowledge, but that is because they
take knowledge to be merely well justified belief rather than the grasp of a
cause that cannot be otherwise.128 For Aristotle, knowledge is always about
an object, and unless there are such objects and we have a way to grasp and
express them, there cannot be knowledge. The object that he assumes when
he assumes that a word signifies one is an essence.
5.9.1 Arguments 12: 1006b1134
With this understanding of the assumption that Aristotle identifies as central
for arguing against those who deny the PNC, we are finally ready to turn to
Aristotles arguments against those who deny the principle. Few scholars
127. Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations: The German Text with a Revised
English Translation, 3rd ed., trans. G. E. M. Anscombe (Oxford: Blackwell, 2001).
See12.
128. Graham Priest, Contradiction, Belief, and Rationality, Proceedings of the Aristotelian
Society86 (1986):99116, argues that the PNC is not a sine qua non of belief or
rationality. Along with other contemporary thinkers, he understands rationality
as an acceptance of well-supported beliefs, and he does not think that knowledge,
as Aristotle understands it, is possible.
426
have worked through their details, and they disagree significantly about
where Aristotles arguments begin and end because the verbal clues that
typically alert readers to the beginnings of arguments are either absent or
unreliable here. Since my theme is the role of unity and one/many problems,
it is appropriate to focus on the unity problems here and, where possible, to
use them to parse the text. By this point it will not be surprising to see that
Aristotles arguments depend on unity. In general, there are two types of unity
problems that result from denying the PNC: the one thing signified by the
word turns out to be identified with some other essence and is, thereby, not
one, but many; or this thing must be identical with every other essence and
is, thereby, everything. Again, the essence either loses its unity or it retains its
unity by being the same as everything else. In either case, the essence cannot
be the subject of a scientific claim.
The first argument begins at 1006b11 and continues, by my reckoning,
until 1006b22. The assumption, again, is that man signifies one thing, the
being for man. Then, as I said, not-man will signify something else, another
single thing, the being for not-man. This is practically all Aristotle needs to
conclude that it will not be possible for man to be not-man (1006b2324). For,
if each is one, then together they would be two. To say that man is not-man is
to identify one individual with something entirely different, that is, to make
one more than one, and thus not one.
Aristotle considers two possible objections to this argument. The first
starts from the observation that many different things exist in respect of one
( ) and the same thing (1006b1418). Thus, some one thing is musical,
white, and a man because all these are in respect of it. If all these count as
signifying one, that is, signifying the man, then all would be one. But, since
musical and white are also included among what is not-man, we would need
to conclude that both not-man and man are indeed one and, conversely, that
one thing is both man and not man.
Aristotle avoids this conclusion by distinguishing what is in respect of one
from what is one: man is one, but white and musical are only in respect of
one because they merely belong to man. What is in respect of one is not
included in the essence of what is one. A property that inheres in something
is not part of its essential unity even though it is united with the thing. The
property belongs to the essence of the not-thing. So the one thing that is man
is not, by being musical, also not-man; for musical belongs to the essence of
not-man. Properties pose a serious threat to the PNC, and they are discussed
repeatedly, in different ways, throughout this section.
The second objection is less serious. Suppose I identify the one thing man
signifies as some x and someone else identifies it as y (1006b1822). If I mean
by man the being of man and the other person means this by not-man,
427
then man would be not-man. However, there is a contradiction here only in

name. The essence of man remains whatever it is as a thing.
The second argument starts by positing that man does not signify something different from not-man (1006b2234). Then their being will not differ,
and the essence of man will be the essence of not-man. Now things that are
the same, like raiment and cloak, have the same formula. So, if the essence of
man and the essence of not-man are one, they will have the same essential
formula. However, Aristotles initial assumption is that they differ, that is,
that the formula of the essence of man is two-footed animal and that this is
one (1006a30-34). He infers here that if something is a man, it will be necessary
that it be a two-footed animal. His reason is, presumably, that, since man
signifies something one, it is not possible for the formula of man to include
anything else without being the formula or not-man. If, though, it is necessary
that something be a two-footed animal, then the same thing could not not be
a two-footed animal. Accordingly, it cannot be true that the same thing both
is and is not a man. But this last sentence expresses a version of the PNC.
Aristotles reasoning here is difficult, but I think his point is that if something is a man, then it must have the formula of man, two-footed animal. If
this same thing were also a not man, it would not have this formula, but a
formula that was entirely different. Inasmuch as that same thing cannot both
have and lack the formula, the same cannot be a man and also not be a man.129
Again, a contradiction cannot be ascribed to a thing because that would entail
giving it a formula other than the one formula it has.
As I said, the last line of this argument (1006b3334) is a statement of the
PNC. There is no other statement of the principle in the text from 1006b14
until 1007b1718, and the latter is followed immediately by , Aristotles
129. My formulation of the argument differs significantly from that of Kirwan, Aristotles
Metaphysics: Books , , and E, 98, and others. First, Kirwan understands arguing
for the PNC to be arguing that there can never be a contradiction (the universal
formulation) rather than arguing for the existence of some case in which the
principle holds, as I think Aristotle argues. Second, his and other accounts make
no use of the unity that the term signifies, whereas mine depends entirely on it.
The text is in accord with my account. Perhaps the reason that this interpretation
is not widely endorsed is that it is quite difficult to give a formulation in contemporary logic where all content is contained in predicates. R. M. Dancy, Sense
and Contradiction: A Study in Aristotle, Synthese Historical Library (Dordrecht,
Holland: D. Reidel Pub. Co., 1975),91, says of this argument that it depends on
the opponents accepting a distinction . . . between something talked about
and what is said about it, . . . , between subjects and predicates. To talk about
something, even to talk about it as a subject, is to predicate something of it; and
predicate logic cannot readily make the distinction Dancy notes, unless it includes
some device to specify the subject, such as the one Russell uses in Principia.
428
standard way of introducing a new argument. Accordingly, most readers take

this entire passage, 1006b141007b18, as a single argument. Thomas Aquinas,
for example, takes what I have labeled as the first argument as a corollary in a
larger argument. He thinks it shows that man does not signify not being a
man; then, he supposes that the opening of what I call the second argument
shows that man and not-man do not signify the same thing. These two
claims, together with the assumption that man signifies one thing, and the
claim, argued in 1007a18, that being a man differs from not being a man
constitute the premises for the brief argument at 1006b2834, a passage that I
include in my argument two. Then, 1007a820 and 1007a20b18 are two arguments that Aquinas thinks answer objections to this argument.130
On Aquinas interpretation, Aristotle offers an unusually lengthy and
complex bit of reasoning. However, the interpretation is problematic on many
counts. First, I cannot see that Aristotle needs a separate sub-argumentthe
passage I have interpreted as the first argumentto prove that man does
not signify not being a man. Aristotle assumes that man signifies one, and
he identifies the one as two-footed animal; but whatever this one would turn
out to be, he would call it being a man. This phrase is simply a placeholder.
The only thing we can say about it is that it does not stand for the essence that
not being a man expresses, namely, not being a man. So that man does
not signify not being a man is an immediate consequence of assuming that
man signifies only one thing, being a man. On the other hand, if Aquinas
is right to think the passage does argue that man does not signify not being
a man, then it is arguing that something cannot also be its contradictory, and
this is tantamount to the PNC.
Second, in order to argue that man and not-man do not signify the
same thing, Aristotle needs to assume that they signify, respectively, the
being of man and the being of not-man, and that these are different; but if
we know that they are different, then we also know that one thing is not the
other, and, again, we have the PNC. (This last would be an argument along
the lines of 1007a120, as we will see.) Third, the argument whose premises
the entire passage is supposed to support turns on the simple idea that what is
necessary cannot possibly not be. The problem is that the text does not prove
the premise that the argument assumes, that man is necessarily a two-footed
animal, nor does this follow from the presumed sub-arguments. To derive
the premise requires an inference from mans actually being a two-footed
Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,93102, 2058, takes this
passage as one long argument, but it is very difficult to see what, in the end, he
takes this argument to be.
429
animal to mans necessarily being a two-footed animal. But in order to make

this inference, we need to know that what cannot be otherwise than what it
actually is is necessarily what it is. But to know this, we also need to see that
it would be a contradiction for what cannot be otherwise to be also possibly
otherwise. Then, we need to know that what is not possibly other is necessarily what it is. That is to say, the claim of necessity already presupposes the
PNC. Hence, the argument from necessity to the PNC is question begging.
If, then, the standard interpretation is correct, we have a brief and dubious
argument resting on multiple sub-arguments that do not really support it and
that, I hold, themselves prove the conclusion of the argument they are taken to
support and do so more decisively than that argument. We need to set aside
this interpretation and, despite the lack of Aristotles customary linguistic
argument markers, recognize distinct arguments in the text.
It seems to me that the reason this course has not been followed is not
because the single argument view is compellingKirwan, for example, refers
to the argument as extraordinarily mystifying131but because the arguments I propose look too simple for a principle as important and contentious
as the PNC. As I see it, once someone concedes that a term signifies one,
he needs to exclude from its reference everything other than that one, and
whatever is encompassed in the one to which it refers cannot be included in
the group of what is other. That is, to say that a term signifies one is to divide
the universe into two mutually exclusive groups. And this is very nearly to
concede that the PNC holds, for the PNC stipulates, in effect, that one thing
cannot belong to both groups. To argue the principle then amounts to blocking escape routes. For example, are the one things properties to be grouped
with it or with the other group? To uphold the PNC requires blocking the
possibility that properties belong to both the group to which their subject
belongs and the other group. We could plausibly view 1006a281007b18 as
one lengthy attempt to engage the opponent and block all his movesthen it
would indeed be a single argument. But such an interpretation would make
it hard to see what Aristotles case rests on.
In what I call the first argument, Aristotle insists that man signify one; in
what I call the second, he argues that if being man and being not-man are the
same, then they will have the same formula, and man and not-man will be
like raiment and cloak, two words for what is one. Raiment and cloak
also serve as Aristotles example in the Physics to illustrate the Heraclitean view
that all is one (A 2, 185b1921), and he refers back to our passage at 1007a57
as having said this as well. That is to say, the alternatives that Aristotle faces
are either that man signifies something one, such as two-footed animal, and
131. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,93.
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nothing else, or that it signifies something one that includes its contradictory.
In the former case, the PNC holds of at least something; in the latter, it does
not. This latter is, again, a characterization of the universe in which there is no
difference between a thing and its contradictorysomething like the universe
we find ourselves in if being is pros hen, and each not-being also is.
In order to reject this type of universe, Aristotle invokes, as I interpret him, the
notion that not-man must signify something more than mere being, something
that makes it different from what man signifies. But is not this point exactly
at issue here, whether there is some nature or essence that is more refined than
being? Perhaps the most that could be said of anything is that it is a being. How
can Aristotle so facilely insist that a world in which whatever is is a being and
nothing else must be dismissed? How, especially, can he say this, when rejecting such a world is tantamount to embracing the PNC, the principle for which
he purports to be arguing? These questions come to grips with what is truly
problematic about the arguments for the PNC, the two discussed so far as well
as the others we will explore: Aristotle seems simply to dismiss out of hand a
world in which the PNC would not obtain. He seems not so much to be arguing
for the PNC as simply rejecting the consequences of its non-existence.
What is so bad about a world without the PNC? One of Aristotles most
fundamental assumptions in this discussion is that there is knowledge. We
saw that he introduces the PNC as the firmest principle on the ground that
all knowledge depends upon it. If he can show that the denial of the PNC
destroys the possibility of knowledge, then he will have a case for the PNC.
If, moreover, the person who denies the PNC needs to assume its existence
in order to deny it, then the principle would be impossible to deny. So there
is more to Aristotles rejection of a world without the PNC than might seem.
It would be a world without knowledge and a world in which one would not
even be able to deny the PNC. Indeed, one could not even deny the existence of
knowledge without, in the claim to know that there is no knowledge, implicitly
invoking the PNC. We would not be better than plants (1008b10-12).
This is a lot to hang on the PNC, and it is not obvious that Aristotle is
right to put so much weight on it or on the assumption that man signifies
something one. The key to understanding these connections is the recognition
that for Aristotle knowledge is always the grasp of some form, this form is
one, and the form that belongs to the knower also belongs to a nature. Now
being has a nature. We saw that its nature is the ousia to which all beings
are related and that this nature resembles somehow the essence shared by
all instances of a proper genus, a genus like animal. It is important that
being can be known by knowing this nature. However, what is known is
not being itself but the ousia, beings ousia, and what we can know of being
is what we can know of ousia. The obvious question is how we know that
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there are any ousiai. Aristotle answers this question implicitly in 2 by

showing that if being is pros hen, some of the aporiai are resolved. His treatment of the PNC represents another argument for ousiai, for a more refined
determination of ousiai. Again, how do we know that there is anything that
has its own proper nature? Aristotles answer, as I understand it, turns on
the necessity of there being something with a greater degree of unity than
the unity associated with being. Aristotle may seem to be assuming such
an entity when he asserts the convertibility of one and beingwhatever is
will also be onebecause he says that one and being belong to every nature
(1003b2225, b3233), for nature suggests that each being is not just one or
just being but has a more determinate character, like two-footed animal.
But convertibility does not presuppose that a nature has a determinate character: it is simply whatever is and is one. And, again, even a non-being is
one in this way. We need something with a greater degree of unity if there
is to be knowledge. Since there is knowledge, and since knowledge is always
a grasp of a formas Aristotle puts it, one is the principle of knowledge
( 6, 1016b2021)there must be a form. This form or essence belongs to
a being, but it is more refined than being and its unity stronger than the
unity that belongs in respect of being. The one thing that man signifies is
a nature or form of this sort.
Aristotle is, apparently, assuming the existence of at least one such nature
in his argument for the PNC. Is the assumption legitimate? The assumption
is necessary if there is scientific discourse. Were every individual merely a
being, we could not ask about man because nothing would be more of a man
than anything else. The ability to differentiate one type of thing from another
presupposes some criterion of difference in their natures. Were things simply
other or different with no specifiable difference in nature, they would
all be the same in respect of being. In this case there would be no nature of
man nor any fine-grained grasp of beings. In order even to deny that there
is knowledge of man, we need to be able to distinguish it from everything
else, and if we can do that, then it has the more refined unity it needs to be an
object of knowledge. To deny the possibility of knowledge without specifying a thing that cannot be known might be to deny the existence of any more
refined unities, in which case our denial itself could only be about beings that
are and are not and, thus, could be no more true than not true. If, on the other
hand, the denial of knowledge acknowledged the existence of more refined
unities that could not be known, we would again be acknowledging the very
feature in things that makes them subject to assertions and, thereby, knowable. Aristotles example of something one, two-footed animal, suffices to
convey the degree of unity requisite for knowledge, even though it is not the
best candidate for the nature man signifies.
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If, though, Aristotles assumption that man signifies one is really an

assumption of an essence that is sufficiently one to be the object of knowledge,
then we should be reluctant to grant it to Aristotle. The existence of essences is
central to metaphysics: Aristotle should be arguing it. If, moreover, his arguments for the PNC depend on the existence of essences, they are deriving a
conclusion that no one could really doubt from a highly dubious assumption.
Let me, again, propose that Aristotles first arguments for the PNC parallel his
argument for there being one science of all the causes in that the conclusion is
more firmly known than any of the premises (cf. 1005b1114). The arguments
for the PNC assume that there is scientific discourse. In order that there be
scientific discourse, there must be at least one essence. Although Aristotle
ostensibly assumes such a nature when he insists on scientific discourse as
the assumption that any opponent of the PNC must make, I think it must be
the real conclusion of the arguments. There could not be knowledge without
the PNC, and the PNC, in turn, rests on the existence of a fine-grained form
that, because it is one and the same, can be the subject of the PNC and, thereby,
knowable. Alternatively, the possibility of knowledge turns on there being
some form to know, and it can only be known because it is not, and cannot
be, what is not the form, that is, because it is subject to the PNC.
So understood, the PNC is an ontological principle. In order that it hold,
there must be at least one form or nature. And if there is knowledge, the
PNC must hold. Hence, there must be some fine-grained form, a nature that
is richer in content, narrower in scope, and more one than the quasi-genus
of being. Indeed, were there not some such nature, we could not speak scientifically about particular things or even deny that we can speak about them.
That the PNC must hold if there is to be knowledge is clear. What emerges
from these two arguments is that the assumption of scientific discourse, that
is, the assumption of a form or ousia, is necessary for the PNC. Since the PNC
cannot be doubted (without conceding it), there must be such an ousia. Insofar
as Aristotles arguments 12 prove that there must be an ousia, they make a
real contribution to the inquiry into being.
5.9.2 Arguments 35: 1006b341008a2
There is some reason to suspect that the PNC does not hold. Consider this bit
of reasoning: A man is white. White is not man. Hence, man is not-man. If the
reasoning is sound, any predication would be a contradiction. In this case, the
problem is that man is white but also not white. Man is white insofar as the
quality white is present in man; man is not white because the essence of man
does not include white. In assuming that man signifies oneand we need
to make some such assumption to have scientific discoursewe are assuming
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that there is some being that is rightly called man and that everything else
is not. Thus, each being is either man or not-man. Then, the case of white is
problematic. At first glance, white seems clearly to fall under not-man. But,
then, to say that man is white is to imply that man is not-man. On the other
hand, if we say that white falls under man, then to say that man is white is
to say that man is man. Further, if white does fall under man, then some of
what is not white must fall under not-man, and saying that man is not white
risks implying that man is not man.
The problem here is to understand the possibility of predication; specifically, to understand why predication does not violate the PNC. A predicate is
closely tied to what it is predicated of. Thus, if man is white, white could not
exist without manor, better, this white that inheres in this man could not
exist without himand if we ask, what is white?, we could well answer that
it is a man (Z 1, 1028a1518). Even if we try to focus on white independently of
man, when we give its essence, we must include that it inheres in some ousia
(1028a3436). This close connection between white and the ousia in which it
inheres threatens the mutually exclusive division of the world into X and X
that is tantamount to the PNC.
Aristotle begins argument three (1006b341007a20) by assuming that being
white differs from being a man. Since being white and being man differ, and
since not-man is much more opposed to man than white, to be not-man must
surely be different from the being for a man (1007a14). We are to understand,
I suggest, that if man and not-man are much more different than man and
white, they are necessarily different. If man and not-man must differ, then, as in
the previous argument (1006b341007a1), it will not be possible for not-man not
to be not-man or, accordingly, for the same thing to be both man and not-man.
Hence, anything that is man does not admit of its contradiction, not-man.
Let me explain this interpretation before continuing with the rest of the third
argument. Immediately, after what I have marked as the second argument,
Aristotle declares that the same argument () also applies to not-man
(1006a3334), and most readers take this to be an alternative version of the
preceding argument. Apart from other difficulties with this interpretation,
the second argument cannot be readily applied to not-man because it uses
the assumption that man signifies one whereas not-man does not signify
one inasmuch as there is no common nature or formula of what is not man
(cf.1006b3537; De Intp. 16a2932).132 My solution is to take the same argument
132. The at 1007a1 is hard to explain if 1006b3334 repeats the conclusion. It is
traditionally thought to support the claim at 1006b28, but that is in the imperfect
tense and should refer to what precedes.
My parsing of the passage into arguments follows the paragraph structure of
Joe Sachs translation at this point. He does not give an explanation.
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to refer only to 1006b2833, the reasoning from the definition of necessity.

On this view, 1007a14 provide a ground for thinking that something that is
a not man is so necessarily: If being white differs from being man, then being
not-man differs all the more so. If something cannot be both being white and
being man, then it necessarily cannot be both being not-man and being man.
Hence, whatever is not man, is so necessarily.
Presumably, Aristotles motivation here for speaking about being white
( ) and being man ( at 1007a3), in contrast
with being for man ( at 1007a1), is to distinguish the quality white from the man, rather than to distinguish their essences. By itself,
the white ( ) could refer to either the quality or the man that is
white; being white serves to designate only the quality. Aristotle wants to
say that this quality, white, is not the sort of thing that a man is; necessarily it
cannot be man. Since the same could be said of any affection or of any other
ousia besides man, that is, of every not-man, we can infer that every other
not-man is also necessarily not man. Hence, not-man is necessarily not
man, and so whatever is not man is so necessarily.
We are to understand that even if white is predicated of man, white remains
necessarily not-man, and man does not become not-man through this predication because it cannot be necessarily not-man. However, the obvious problem
with the argument is that anyone who says that man is white leaves himself
open to be pressed on the claim. Something can be man and white, and, again,
being white, it will be not-man; so the same thing, Socrates, say, can be both
man and not-man. Indeed, Socrates is an indefinite number of things. So he
is man and not-man in an indefinite number of ways.
As I read the text, Aristotle proposes an answer to this objection at 1007a420.
First, if white means the same as human being, then not just white but every
character that belongs to man will also mean the same, and we are back to
the Heraclitean world where everything alike is being. But, the objector may
say, the objection here is not that these characters mean the same, but that
the same thing is man, white, big, and so forth. Thus, he may continue, if
this thing is a man and white, it is man and not-man, and, thus, a man is not
man. Of course, Aristotle does not want to exclude somethings being a man
and also having multiple attributes (1007a1011). The issue is how to avoid
drawing the conclusion that man is not man. Aristotle suggests a practical
strategy: confine oneself to answering only what is asked about. If one is
asked whether something is a man, answer only yes and do not add that it
is also big and white. Aristotle thinks that the answerer can avoid contradiction simply by refusing to put together the things being a man with its being
white, big, and, thus, a not-man. We are, he seems to counsel, to conceive of
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each character as dividing all beings into two: what has the character and
what does not. Consequently, the question whether something is X or X
has only one answer if the PNC obtains, and so, too, the question whether
it is Y or Y. If the questioner presses the question whether the thing that is
X is or is not also Y, then Aristotle advises the answerer to mention all the
characteristics that belong and do not belong: the infinity of this project will
forestall any discussion and, thereby, the need to agree that X is Y and, so,
also X (1007a1420).
This strategic advice depends on the implicit assumption that every character is independent of the others. A things being X or X is independent of
its being or not being Y, Z, or anything else. All predicates merely happen
to belong (1007a1819). If so, a things being X is not contradicted by its being
Y or Z. This understanding of characters skirts an apparent contradiction, but
only at the cost of making every predicate accidental and, thereby, undermining
the possibility of knowledge. The most we can say is that something happens
to be or not to be X. But the PNC is the highest principle of knowledge, and
knowledge is always true. If what insures knowledges truth undermines the
possibility of knowledge, the principle serves no end, nor could we know it to
be true. Aristotles suggestion that the answerer confine himself to individual
characters may be a successful stratagem for a debate, but it does not answer
the question how predication is possible without undermining the PNC. Again,
the problem is that man is white, but white is not-man. Either all things are
one, in which case the PNC fails, or each character is accidental and, as such,
independent of all others, in which case the PNC can be upheld but only by
conceding that there is no knowledge.
In this context, Aristotles fourth argument (1007a20b18) is particularly
significant. It opens with the claim that those saying this would destroy ousia
and essence. It is unclear whether this refers to the claim that all attributes
are accidental, that there is no dialectic and definition, or, as usually supposed,
that the PNC does not hold. Any of these would destroy ousia and essence.
Aristotles assumption is, once again, that a term signifies something one, but
now he specifies that the one is the ousia of a thing (1007a2526). And he adds
that the ousia is the being for the thing, that is, its essence, and the very thing
that is (1007a2627). Given that the term signifies one, an essence, it cannot
also signify the negation of this essence without signifying more than one.
Aristotle reasons:
And to signify an ousia means that being for it ( ) is nothing
else. But if the very thing it is to be a man is the same as either the very
thing it is to be a not-man or the very thing it is not to be a man, then
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being for it will be something else [besides ousia]. So it will be necessary for them to say there will be no such formula of anything, but all
are accidental. For it is just in this respect that ousia and accident are
distinguished: white belongs to man accidentally because he is white
but [he is] not the very thing white is. If all are accidental, there will be
nothing primary in respect of which things are said, if the accidental
always signifies a predication of some substrate (1007a26b1).
The assumption here is that a term signifies an ousia, and an ousia is just a
things being. If, then, the being of the thing also includes the being of not-man
or the being of everything besides man, then the being of man would include
something besides the ousia.133 It follows that the formula of the things being
would also be the formula of its negation and of everything that is not the
thing:134 such a formula would have to encompass everything. Since there is no
formula of everything, the thing has no formula of its being nor, consequently,
an essence. It follows that all of its characters are accidental, and there is no
primary nature to which attributes are predicated.
Alternatively, the difference between ousia and accident is that the former
is the very thing that it is to be something, whereas the latter could belong
to something else. White is an accident because, although it belongs to man,
the very thing white is does not belong (cf. Cat. 5, 2a1934). If, though, the
PNC does not apply to man, then the very thing that notman is will belong
to the subject, that is, the very thing that man is will not belong. Since the
subject is man, and not the very thing man is, man is like white, an accident.
If, then, nothing belongs without its opposite, everything that belongs will be
an accident. In such circumstances, the subject is no more one character than
its opposite and, accordingly, has no substantial nature.
What is wrong with denying that there is an ousia? Since knowing something is grasping its cause, and ousia is its (formal) cause, without ousia, there
cannot be knowledge or, at least, knowledge of or through its nature. Aristotle
133. According to Kirwans initial interpretation, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , ,
and E, 100, a thing does not admit more than one essential predicate, but here
substance would have two: the very thing man is and the very thing not-man
is. (On his revised interpretation, pp.2068, the argument still requires that an
essential predication be unique, though Kirwan thinks this unsupported.) This
is not right, for both rational and animal are predicated essentially of man. What
Kirwan probably means to say is that nothing can have more than one essence.
134. Dancy, Sense and Contradiction,106, thinks that there is no new argument here
because, as in the first argument (= my first three arguments), Aristotle assumes
that a word signifies one thing, and Aristotle shows that his opponent violates
this assumption. Dancys discussion of the entire fourth argument appears on
pp. 94115.
437
does not give this answer. Instead, he goes on to argue that there cannot
be an accident of an accident; thus, the existence of accidents presupposes
the existence of ousiai (1007b117). Significantly, the reason that accidents
cannot have their own accidents is that accidents themselves inhere in some
substrate (1007b15), and the reason that accidental composites, like white
Socrates, cannot have their own accidents is that they would not form a
unity (1007b10). Putting all this together, we can formulate Aristotles fourth
argument as follows: since there must be ousia to have accidents, since there
are accidents, and since the denial of the PNC would destroy ousia, the PNC
must be affirmed (1007b1618).
By itself, the portion of this argument that argues for the existence of ousia
is not sufficient; it assumes, rather than shows, that the world cannot be just
a conjunction of accidents. However, Aristotles general point is supported by
the doctrine that being is pros hen, with ousia as the hen. If things are called
beings because they are related to ousia, then every being must be so related.
The objection to an accident of an accident is that it seems to have no direct
relation with ousia. Since it is in virtue of its relation to ousia that something
is a being and in virtue of its being that it is one, an accident of another accident would lack being and unity. The same could be said of an accident of a
composite of ousia and accident; and this, I submit, is why Aristotle claims
that an ousia with two accidents lacks unity (1007b10).
Which ousia does this last portion of the argument (1007b116) prove to
exist? Aristotle does not tell us much about it except that it is a substrate for
accidents. Since he is arguing that there are no accidents of accidents, the
ousia here is not that of an accident. It would seem, too, that Aristotle could
not be arguing in the first portion (1007a20b1) that the denial of the PNC
would destroy the ousia of attributes because his argument turns on not
being able to distinguish the things nature from its accidents, and accidents
cannot have their own accidents. However, he mentions here the very thing
white is, that is, its ousia, and his argument is a reductio ad absurdum. Thus,
if white is white and also not the very thing white is, then white is an attribute, rather than the ousia of white. Since this is absurd, white will be the
very thing white is, the essence or ousia of white. In other words, Aristotles
argument applies not only to individuals but to all ousiai, including those
of white and other attributes, because it shows that the denial of the PNC
would make attributes have attributes, an impossibility. His point is not that
the PNC applies to categorial ousiai, but that if the principle does not hold
there would be no ousiai of any sort.
Aristotles fifth argument (1007b181008a2) against denials of the PNC is
also supposed to be a reductio. To deny the principle is, Aristotle argues, to
make all things one. The reason is that to deny the principle is to say that each
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thing that is A is also A. It follows that each predicate and its negation belong
to each entity and that all things are indistinguishable.135 In other words,
what follows is what I call a Heraclitean world. But the denier of the PNC
concedes the existence of scientific discourse, that is, that there is at least one
term man that signifies one thing, a man. In a Heraclitean world the term
would refer to man no more than to any other being. Thus, scientific discourse
would be impossible in a world in which all things are one.
This argument resembles argument two, only there the issue is whether
man and not-man are one. Here, the claim is that the same thing will not only
be man and not-man, but every other pair of contradictory opposites as well.
Aristotles successive arguments have, in fact, made progress toward determining ousia and essence. It is now clear that what the significant term signifies is
distinct not just from its negation, but also from various other possible things
that could be objects of discourse. For something to be known, it must have a
nature that is the very thing it is and that distinguishes it from other beings.
If the PNC fails, every being is alike and knowable only as a being. Indeed,
since the knowledge of being rests on identifying a nature, ousia, that is, in
some way, common to all beings, and since there is no such nature unless it
can be distinguished from what is related to it, without the PNC, there cannot
even be knowledge of being.
The PNC asserts that the same cannot be and not be or that the same
cannot be qualified by contrary attributes together, in the same respect, and so
forth. We can now see that the same here is not just an instance of being; it
is an essential nature or ousia, an entity that is more determinate than being.
To be the same, the nature must be one. In order to refute denials of the principle, Aristotle needs to assume the existence of essential natures. This, we
can now see, is what it is to assume scientific discourse.
Initially, the assumption of scientific discourse seemed innocuous. But as
Aristotle uses it in his arguments, it turns out to amount to the existence of
ousia and essence. How can Aristotle expect those who deny the truth of the
PNC to accept the existence of essences and ousiai? Does the opponent accept
135. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,102, claims that Aristotle here
introduces a stronger version of the principle than what he had used earlier. I do
not think this is right. Aristotle consistently assumes that the PNC asserts that
there is some being for which contradiction is impossible and, consequently,
that the denial of the PNC asserts that there is no being for which the principle
holds, that is, that every being admits of contradictory predicates. Again, anyone
who admits that there is something whose contradictory is not true affirms the
principle. The question of how many such affirmations there are is the question
of the principles scope.
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the principle only because he does not realize what is entailed by it? In the
latter case, Aristotle will attain, at best, a pale victory.136
We see, again, that the order of argument, as it stands in the text, makes
no sense; for what is presented as the key assumption is more dubious than
the conclusion, a principle that is the most certain of all (3, 1005b1112; b1718;
b2223). Moreover, the assumption is more significant than the conclusion for
the overall aims of the Metaphysics: for an inquiry into being and essence, it is
more important to know that there are essences than that the PNC obtains.
Let me propose that Aristotles arguments three to five be read along the
same lines as his first arguments for the PNC and as his arguments for including
various topics in one science. What is presented to us here as the conclusion, the
PNC, is the real premise. There are no genuine doubts about the validity of the
PNC nor about the absurdity of the Heraclitean world that its denial entails. The
problem for Aristotle at this point is to find what he needs to assume in order
to avoid this consequence. For his initial arguments, one and two, he assumed
scientific discourse, and we saw that that was tantamount to assuming the existence of something more determinate than being that could serve as the object
of knowledge. We learned from those two initial arguments that there must be
a nature that is distinct from other beings, and that this nature X, together with
what it is not, X, comprise all beings. The present set of arguments are more
explicitly tied to ousia. Aristotle claims in argument four that to deny the PNC
is to do away with ousia and essence. Since we cannot seriously doubt the PNC,
this counts as an argument for ousiai, and Aristotle supports this point by adding
that accidents require ousiai. We come to see important characteristics of ousia
from this set of arguments: (a) to say of X that it is an ousia is to say that it has
some character that is the very thing it is and whose absence would render it
136. Michael J. Degnan, Does Aristotle Beg the Question in His Defense of the Principle
of Non-Contradiction? Proceedings of the American Catholic Philosophical Association
(1989), argues that the arguments are valid because they work from the assumptions of the interlocutor. That is to say, the arguments have the effect of showing
the interlocutor what he is already committed to. This suggests that an interlocutor
who had thought through his position could dispute them effectively.
Lear, Aristotle and Logical Theory,11314, suggests that Aristotles refutation is
not intended for the one who denies the PNC but for his audience of students.
They are supposed to see that someone who denies the PNC cannot say anything
significant. Yet, Lear recognizes the importance of the assumption of essences
in Aristotles argument (pp. 10911). What, then, is the value of Aristotles inference, even for his students, if it depends on the dubious assumption that there
are essences?
For a different response to the apparent impossibility of arguing for the
principle without assuming it, see Dennis Rohatyn, Aristotle and the Limits of
Philosophical Proof, Nature and System4 (1982):esp. 8283.
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something else and that this character, unlike mere being, distinguishes it from
other beings; (b) to be an ousia is to be more one than to be a being. Aristotles
paradigmatic example is man, and he proposes its essence to be two-footed
animal. In effect, Aristotle uses arguments 35 to refine the object of scientific
discourse and, thereby, to elucidate features of ousia. We could scarcely expect
someone who denies the PNC to agree that such a nature exists, but collectively
the first five arguments show that agreeing to scientific discourse is tantamount
to accepting an ousia or essence.137
Aristotles argument here resembles an argument suggested in Platos
Parmenides:
If . . . a man refuses to admit that forms of things exist or to distinguish
a definite form in every case, he will have nothing on which to fix his
thought, so long as he will not allow that each thing has a character
which is always the same, and in so doing he will completely destroy
the significance of all discourse (135bc).
Plato reasons that since there is (scientific) discourse and since discourse depends
on the existence of form, there must be form. In the Metaphysics what seem
to be arguments for the PNC are really arguments for the existence of form,
Aristotelian form, that is, ousia or essence. Like the Platonic form, it is oneit has
the kind of unity that allows it to be the same and, so, subject to the PNC.
The next set of arguments turn on assertion and denial, as does argument
five. An assertion is contradicted by a denial; so if the PNC obtains for some
thing, everything is either asserted or denied of it. If the PNC does not obtain
of it, then at least one claim is both asserted and denied of it. In argument
six (1008a27), Aristotle reasons that if it is true that something is a man
and not a man, then the contradictories of each of these are also true; hence,
something is not a man and it is not not a man. The former denies that it is
a man; the latter is tantamount to denying that it is not a man or that it is a
not-man. In other words, if a claim and its contradictory are both asserted of
one thing, then both are also denied of it. But if both are denied of it, then it
belongs neither to man nor not-man and, thereby, violates the principle of the
excluded middle (PEM).
137. This analysis of Aristotles arguments differs significantly from the accounts of
his methodology that prevail in the literature. I have focused here on working
through his arguments rather than determining his method. I discuss Aristotles
methodology more generally in Chapter 7.
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This argument is only effective against someone who affirms the principle of
the excluded middle.138 In the previous argument Aristotle suggested that the
reason that people ascribe both contradictories to one thing is the thought that
the thing is, in itself, something indefinite that is potentially both (1007b2529).
He argues there, in effect, for the principle of the excluded middle by claiming
that if the indefinite included its own denial, it would be absurd for it not to
include every other denial (1007b2932). If it contains all denials, then it will
also contain all affirmations, given that the PNC does not hold. The result is
that everything is one and the same. Perhaps, though, someone would distinguish all that is affirmed and denied of the subject from the subject itself.
Then, the subject that was potentially all the characters could have none of
its own. It would be a middle between contradictories, but it would also lack
unity and every other character and would, therefore, be unknowable; it could
not be the subject of scientific discourse, as Aristotle assumes it is. If, then,
argument five excludes this type of violation of the principle of the excluded
middle, Aristotle can draw upon it in argument six. The latter argues that
to assert and deny a character is equivalent to denying a character and the
contradictory character and, thereby, to claiming that the subject is a middle.
Thus, one who denies the PNC would endorse an indeterminate substrate
that is without essence and ousia.
In argument seven (1008a7b2), Aristotle considers an asymmetric failure
of the PNC. He mentions three possibilities: (1) the PNC holds of nothing so
that everything is both man and not-man, white and not-white, etc., and, thus,
whatever is affirmed is denied, and whatever is denied is affirmed; (2) the PNC
holds of nothing because whatever is affirmed is denied, even though not everything denied is affirmed; and (3) the PNC holds of some things but not others
so that some things are either affirmed or denied, but not both (1008a715). In
case (2), there is something, say X, that is denied without being affirmed, and
this denial should be known firmly. If it is, then case (2) would be tantamount
to (3), an affirmation or partial affirmation of the PNC. If, though, the denial of
X is known, the affirmation of its opposite, X is, is more known (1008a1518).
Aristotle does not complete the reasoning; here is how I think it goes: For
everything affirmed, the denial obtains (according to the hypothesis). If, then,
X is affirmed, not X must also be denied, and, again, the affirmation of the
opposite, (X), is yet more firmly known. So even though (2) seems to deny the
138. According to Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E, 103, Aristotle
assumes the PEM in the preceding paragraph (apparently at 1007b2920 and
b3334); he takes what I call argument six to be an appendix to my argument
five. If, however, in argument five Aristotle assumed the PEM to generate the
absurdity that is supposed to follow from denying the PNC, then argument six
would undermine argument five. If denying the PNC led to denying the PEM,
then we would expect those who deny the PNC also to deny the PEM.
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PNC only partially, it does not allow for anything that avoids contradiction; and
if we accept the principle of the excluded middle from the previous argument,
then the contradiction is the assertion of X and X.
At this point (1008a1819), Aristotle acknowledges that even what is denied
would indeed be affirmed, but he suggests that the affirmation and denial might
be said either together or separately (1008a1920). In the former case, every
character is affirmed and denied of every subject and all is one exactly what
we saw in argument five (1008a2027). If, on the other hand, we try to state
them separately, then of any subject, everything will be true, but everything
will also be false. The opponent will admit his own position is false, and the
investigation is not about anything, nor is anything said (1008a2733).
The point of this argument seems to be not only that the attempt to mark off
a realm for the partial application of the PNC fails, that is, to show that case (2)
reduces to (1), but also to show that attempts to affirm contradictions together
or separately fail because they undermine the existence of a subject about which
the claim is being made. Without an ousia, there is no scientific discourse.
Aristotle introduces 1008a34b2 with , his standard marker for a new
argument; but this brief passage seems to be a continuation of the preceding
argument, specifically, a reiteration of (2). It observes that if, whenever the
assertion is true, the denial is false and vice versa, then the PNC would be true.
That is to say, the principle holds of whatever either an assertion or denial
can be made, but not both. It leaves open the question whether there are, in
fact, things of which the principle holdswe can rely on earlier arguments
for thisand which sorts of things they are.
Argument eight (1008b212) considers the problem of asserting a denial of
the PNC. The opponent is taken here to deny that things stand in one way or do
not stand in this way and to hold that they stand in both ways.139 In a line that
makes clear the ontological dimension of the PNC, Aristotle asks, if he has the
truth, what would it mean that the nature of beings is of this sort [1008b35]?
Aristotle continues, even if the opponent did not have the truth but were closer
to it than someone who asserts the PNC, then beings would stand some way,
and this would be true and not, at the same time, not true (1008b57). The
point is that to deny the PNC is to make a claim about the character of being.
But it is impossible to make this claim about the character of being and also to
deny the PNC: one who claims that in every case an assertion and its denial
are true cannot assert that being has a character without also denying this.
But to assert and deny that being has a character is not to say anything. Nor
139. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E, 104, thinks that Aristotle mentions three beliefs. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:271, thinks that there are two,
but sees three possible consequences.
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can anyone think or believe that being is such that the PNC is not true and
also that being stands in the opposite way. A person who attempted to assert
something and its denial at once would be no better than a plant (1008b1012).
He can utter the words, but those words have no significance.
In short, the person who would assert the denial of the PNC is in a fundamentally contradictory position. If he insists that the denial is true, he
ascribes a character to being and so either implicitly concedes that the PNC
does hold or is forced to deny his own assertion. If he does claim not only
that the PNC is false but also that it is true, he says nothing. This argument
depends on assuming that an assertion or denial of the principle must be an
assertion about being or some being, an assumption that previous arguments
have made compelling.
We might suppose that the proper way to deny the PNC is to say nothing
but simply act as though it is false. But this proves difficult to do, as the next
set of arguments show.
How is it possible to behave as though the PNC is false? Aristotle claims here
(1008b1231) that no one stands in this position whether or not he denies the
PNC in words. Whatever he does is one action and not some other action. A
single contradictory action is simply not possible. Of course, one could behave
in one way at one moment and in a contrary way at the next, but this is not a
contradiction. For that, he would need to behave in contradictory ways at the
same time. He cannot both go to Megara and not go. Because he can only do
one thing, what he does do must reflect some judgment that it is better than
the alternatives. The fact that a person chooses an action shows that he does
not believe every action good and bad in the same respects; rather, he must
judge the chosen action better and the alternatives worse. Further, to make
judgments of better and worse, he needs to make judgments about objects, such
as, that one is sweet and the other not. He cannot suppose all such judgments
equally true and false because that would leave him with no basis for action.
If, then, action requires judgment about what is better, and the latter rests on
judgments about things, and these judgments depend on things being one
way rather than another, then every action implicitly affirms the PNC.
This argument, the ninth in Chapter 4, is not introduced with Aristotles
usual marker, and it fits nicely with the eighth argument. Scholars generally
take it as a supplement to the eighth argument. However, there, Aristotles
concern is the incoherence of denying the PNC or, rather, of saying or thinking this denial. Since you cannot say or think it, you also cannot act upon it.
In the ninth argument the reasoning goes in the other direction: since any
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concrete action is determinate, a person cannot act a contradiction and, therefore, cannot think it obtains.
The final argument in this chapter (1008b311009a5) turns on the more
and the less being present in the nature of beings. Aristotle explains that it
is not equally right to say that two and three are not eventwo is not even
because it is not a multiple of twonor equally wrong to mistake four for
five as for a thousand. If claims can be more or less true, there must be some
truth to which they are close or far or, at least, something firm to which we
judge the claim close or far. However, one who denies the PNC denies that
there is any truth that is not also false or any subject close to truth that is not
also not close to truth.
Aristotle presents this argument as if the issue were the accuracy of
mathematical calculation. However, it is in cases of action that we are most
concerned to determine what is closer to or further from the truth. To say that
a calculation is closer to the truth is to judge the act of calculating as better
or worse. So I understand this argument to be about action. If the PNC did
not hold, then all actions would be closer and not closer to the mark. Hence,
again, directed action presupposes the PNC.
Aristotle does not mention the one in conjunction with action, nor does it figure prominently in the preceding set of arguments. However, the consequence
of denying the PNCthat all actions would be the sameasserts, again, the
kind of unity that everything would have without the PNC. The reason that
the unity of everything is an intolerable consequence is that it would preclude
distinguishing one thing from another and, in general, knowing individuals
as anything other than beings. We have seen that the arguments for the PNC
are best understood as arguments for ascribing a stronger unity to individual
beings, the kind of unity that would belong to their essences. Minimally,
this is unity in formula, for this unity obtains when a formula expresses one
essence and the parts into which it could be divided do not. Anything with
an essence would be subject to the PNC.
In sum, although the PNC is the ostensible conclusion of Aristotles arguments, it is more obviously true than the ostensible premises, and it functions,
in effect, as Aristotles real premise. In order to refute denials of the PNC, we
need to assume that a word signifies one thing, an essence or ousia. We need
to assume that there is a one that is different and stronger than the one that
belongs to whatever is a being, a one that belongs to something in respect of
its essence. Because we must make this assumption to refute the denials, and
because the denials must be mistaken, it follows that there are essences and
ousiai. In this way, Aristotle uses the PNC to prove the existence of essences.
The problem now is to determine which beings have essences.
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The textual arguments examined so far show the absurd consequences of the
universal denial of the PNC, the consequences of every contradictions being
true. I have argued that Aristotle really intends these arguments to show
that there must be essences or, more precisely, that there must be at least one
essenceAristotles example is the essence of man. Aristotle affirms the PNC
by showing that it is true in at least one case, and this shows how much his
understanding of logical principles differs from ours, as I noted earlier (5.8).
The PNC extends to things of a certain sort; for, as an ontological principle, it
is itself a kind of entity. Aristotle treats it as if it were a kind of attribute. The
obvious question now is how far the PNC extends. To ask of what things it
holds is to ask, what things have essences?
Just as a single essence refutes the universal denial of the PNC, Aristotle
can refute a partial denial by showing that all beings have essences. We
know, of course, that Aristotle thinks the principle extends universally to
all beings because he uses the universal extension of the axioms of demonstration to justify their inclusion in metaphysics (3, 1005a2223). That each
being has its own essence would be a very significant conclusion. Aristotle
regards the application of the principle to what does not change as obvious;
so he declares several times in 48 (5, 1009a3638; 1010a13; 1010a2535; 8,
1012b3031). To this extent, he agrees with Plato. But, as I noted earlier, Plato
applies the PNC only derivatively to sensibles, whereas Aristotle insists on
its universal extension. Since the PNC is necessary for knowledge, we can
see why Plato holds that sensibles are not properly knowable and Aristotle
that they are. In arguing for the universal extension of the PNC, Aristotle
is arguing for the possibility of knowing all beings. He is refuting Platos
distinction between being and becoming. Thus, he allows the science of
metaphysics to have an absolutely universal scope by recognizing something
in every being, including sensibles, that is not subject to change. This goes
a long way towards resolving the fifth aporia, for it shows that sensibles can
be known on their own. There is no need to be concerned that knowledge
of sensibles will require positing eternal versions of sensible entities, nor
need we worry that, if there are intermediates or forms, these will be known
instead of sensibles. This was a major part of the fifth aporia. Importantly,
because sensibles are knowable, there is no obstacle to including them within
the subject matter of metaphysics.
Why, though, is the PNC obvious in the case of what does not change? How
does Aristotle extend it to what does change? Philip Merlan raises these questions in a pathbreaking article, and he argues that Hintikkas analysis of the
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Greek view of knowledge answers them.140 Hintikka claims that the objects of
knowledge must be unchanging because, for the Greeks, knowledge claims are
temporally indefinite; that is, they include no reference to time. Claims about an
object could be falsified if the object changed. To insure that this did not happen, one could either incorporate a reference to time in the knowledge claim or
make a claim about something that cannot change. Given the character of their
knowledge claims, the Greeks invariably choose the latter course.141 According to
Merlan, the PNC obviously applies to supersensibles because, as unchanging,
they can be the objects of knowledge claims that cannot be contradicted. He
thinks that Aristotle extends the principle to sensible ousiai by recognizing that
they too are permanent and exempt from the flux of time.142
There are several objections to this analysis. First, Merlan does not explain
why Aristotle thinks sensible ousiai are exempt from flux. Individual sensible
ousiai are clearly subject to change. Their essences, though, are unchanging.
But if Merlan means to say that the PNC is being expanded to these essences,
then it would not necessarily apply to claims about individuals. Second, there
is another way of being outside of time that would seem more consonant with
Aristotles formulations of the PNC. Aristotle insists that what is affirmed and
denied must occur at the same time (). Whereas Plato sees a contradiction in Socrates sitting and not sitting, Aristotle would deny the contradiction
unless they occur at the same time. It is not that Socrates is permanent and
exempt from the flux of time but that there are time slices in which he does not
change. In general, in any instant of time, Socrates is unchanging and exempt
from time. To affirm and deny a character of him at the same instant would
be a contradiction, and it is this that the PNC excludes. By excluding contrary
predication only at the same time, Aristotle avoids the need to include references to specific times in the assertion or denial, references that would introduce
other objects and, thereby, undermine the possibility that either claim would
qualify as knowledge. A third problem with Merlans analysis is that the fact
that supersensibles are unchanging removes only one reason the principle
might not apply, but not all reasons. A supersensible cannot change and falsify
a claim about it, but does being a supersensible guarantee that something will
not be internally contradictory? A final problem with Merlans interpretation,
the most serious, is that it does not extend the principle far enough. We know
from Aristotles claim about the universal extension of the principles that the
140. Merlan, Hintikka and a Strange Aristotelian Doctrine. Although I take exception
to part of Merlans conclusion, my discussion here is indebted to it. The question
of the extension of the principle is the right one to ask, and Merlan is nearly the
only one to raise and consider it.
141. See Hintikka, Time & Necessity,64, 68, 7275.
142. Merlan, Hintikka and a Strange Aristotelian Doctrine,98.
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PNC extends universally. Merlan thinks that the principle extends to instances
of the categorial genus of ousia, but it would not apply to all beings. Are qualities and quantities also exempt from the flux of time? In the most obvious
sense they are not. Hence, we need reasons for thinking that they are outside
of time and that this suffices for the PNC to hold of them.
This last issue is particularly pressing because it is the extension of the
principle to all beings that Aristotle is concerned to argue. At best, Merlan
offers a guiding idea that will help explain the principles extension. We still
need the argument. The obvious place to look is Aristotles text. We will see
that Aristotle does argue for universal extension in 5. His argument turns
on removing reasons to suppose the principle would not apply to sensibles.
Let us now turn to that text.

The sources of arguments against the principles applying to sensibles are two,
motion and sensation. First, physicists such as Anaxagoras point to the fact that
sensibles change and take on contrary characteristics (1009a2238; 1010a79).
Since they also assume that nothing comes to be from non-being, they infer
that these contrary characteristics must have existed in the sensible thing all
along. So, in order to change, a thing must already possess contrary characteristics. This appears to violate the PNC. Since, moreover, one of each pair of
contraries is a being and the other is a non-being,143 to have both contraries is
both to be and not to be. So anything that can move violates the PNC.
Aristotle responds to this argument by distinguishing two ways ofbeing:
Being is said in two ways; so that there is a way that something can
come from what is not, and there is a way that that is not possible; and
the same could at the same time be what is and what is not, but not in
the same respect. For it is possible for the same to be, at the same time,
contraries potentially, but not actually (1009a3236).
143. Aristotle does not state this claim explicitly here, but it seems to function as a
premise in his argument. He does say that Democritus assumes that the full
is being and the void non-being (1009a2730), and he had said earlier that all
thinkers trace the contraries back to being and non-being (1004b2733). Since
Aristotle thinks that the argument against the PNC is one that could be made
by any physicist and since he goes on to attack the notion that being has just one
sense, as it would if it referred to one of any pair of contraries, he must be taking
Democrituss position as an instance of the general view that being and non-being
are a pair of contraries that belong to the same substrate. This latter is the position
Aristotle refutes here.
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In other words, one thing could have the capacity to take on contrary characteristics without actually having both characteristics. If a thing does take on
one contrary characteristic, this characteristic has come to be from what is not,
namely, from the substrate that before the change is not actually this character.
On the other hand, the characteristic has come to be from what is: the substrate
that persists and exists potentially as the characteristic. Although it would be
a contradiction for something to be actually white and actually not-white,
it is not a contradiction for it to be actually white and potentially not-white
because the potential for being not-white lies in the substrate. It is, moreover,
only the potential for the absent contraries that the substrate need possess in
order to change. Hence, what changes need not possess contraries.
In distinguishing the potential for a contrary character from the actual
character, Aristotle is drawing on the analysis of change that he advances
in Physics A 78. His argument here is not directed against Anaxagoras or
Democritus themselves but against any opponent who makes use of their
doctrines of change to deny the PNC. Neither Anaxagoras nor Democritus
thinks that there is any coming to be; all change is, rather, rearrangement or
shift in quantitative proportion. It is this assumption that makes them suppose
that the contrary character that something comes to be must somehow belong
to the thing before the change. In other words, Aristotle seems to imagine an
opponent who accepts the becoming of emergent properties and then feels
compelled to claim that, since this property could not come out of nothing, it
must have been present all along, together with its opposite. Aristotle introduces the potential/actual distinction to avoid drawing this conclusion, and
so to undermine a ground for denying the PNC.
Someone who would deny the PNC on this basis would deny that the
principle holds of sensible ousiai. Since these latter come to be, they both are
and are not. Their matter must contain being and not-being within itself, a
contradiction. Aristotle avoids this conclusion by showing that the matter is
potentially being and not-being. If, though, matter is neither of the two actually,
then it would need to be something besides being and not-being. But what
could this be? Aristotle skirts this question by insisting that being is always a
particular nature and that matter either has or lacks this nature. Thus, because
it has some nature, a matter has being before it acquires a form and becomes
an ousia; but in respect of the ousia it comes to be, the matter is initially a notbeing. Thus, coming to be is always qualified: something that already is in
some way comes to be something else. And what becomes is potentially what
it becomes actually.
The point is that it is not just the distinction between actual and potential
that Aristotle deploys here but also the distinction between being one particular
kind of being and another. Were we unable to distinguish what has a particular
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essence from what does not, we would have a world that contained only beings.
If beings were somehow able to change, they would include opposite natures in
their being. Aristotle avoids this conclusion by introducing ousia and essence.
Thus, here too Aristotle shows that what is subject to the PNC is some sort of
ousia. In particular, it is an instance of the category of ousia, and it is subject to
the principle insofar as its change is defined in respect of the potential or actual
existence of its essence.

The second type of argument against the PNC stems from arguments about
sensation. Since different people sense the same thing as both sweet and nonsweet, Protagoras seems to infer that the same thing has these contrary characters (1009a38b6).144 Similarly, Democritus and Empedocles identify knowing
with sensing, and they think that in sensation the perceiver is altered by the
object. From this, they conclude that sensations are not mistaken. It follows
that contrary sensations of the same object reflect contrary characteristics in
the thing (1009b1215; b3133).
Nonsense, Aristotle responds, there is no disagreement about the sensation
but about whether it belongs or does not belong to a thing (1010b1921). The
wine may seem sweet to some and not sweet to others, but the sweet itself is
unchanged; we always grasp it truly, and sweet must have the nature it has
(1010b2126). My sensing an object as sweet may be an accurate perception of
its form, but it may also stem from a corruption in my nature. In either case, the
nature of the sweet is the same. Again, Protagoras thinks there is a contradiction in two people sensing the same thing as sweet and not-sweet because he
takes sweet to signify the thing that is sweet. Aristotle avoids contradiction
by insisting that sweet refers rather to the character that is sensed. It is this
character that cannot both be and not be. Hence, it is the character that is one
and the same and, so, subject to the PNC.
Importantly, Aristotle proposes to skirt the arguments against the PNC by
insisting that what is subject to them has an essence and is one. The beings that
Aristotle thinks Protagoras takes to be contradictory are sensed characters that
do not fall under the category of ousia. It is, therefore, significant that Aristotle
relies on their each having an essence. Insofar as they have essences, they have
144. Protagoras could avoid saying that the same thing has both characters by identifying
the thing with the sensed object or the sensation. Indeed, the person to whom some
honey is sweet is not tasting the same honey as someone else. It is Plato who claims
in the Theaetetus (165be) that Protagoras is committed to claiming that the same
thing can and cannot be known. 5 draws heavily on Platos treatment of Protagoras
in this dialogue; see, Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E, 105.
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ousiai and, indeed, are ousiaibut only in a very broad sense of ousia that is
akin to, but different from what we saw at work earlier in book . Recall that all
beings fall under a single science because being has a kind of nature, an ousia.
As such, being is a quasi-genus, and each being has a nature insofar as it is a
being. In the first part of , Aristotle identifies ousia as the generic character of
being, but it signifies only that each being has a nature, a feature of all beings. To
talk now in 5 about the ousia in virtue of which a being is subject to the PNC
is not to speak of the ousia that is the generic character common to every being
but of the essence that distinguishes something from other beings. This ousia is
a finer grade, categorial character that makes each being have the particular
nature it possesses and through which it is known.
There is good reason to think that Aristotle does ascribe essences to all
beings, but there are also problems with this idea. First, the essences of beings
that do not belong to the category of ousia include within them the category
of ousia (Z 1, 1028a3436). That means that a complete formula of, say, a color
should include a component indicating that this quality belongs to some ousia.
Hence, no color or any other attribute can be properly one in formula. Since
the subject of the PNC must be one, we can ask whether non-ousiai have sufficient unity to come under the PNC. Evidently, the answer is yes. And the
unity that allows them to be subject to the PNC also allows them to be known
as essences. Consonant with this conclusion is Aristotles including these
non-ousiai among what is one in formula ( 6, 1016b36), but other things are
more one in formula, and ultimately Aristotle takes the essences of non-ousiai
to be secondary on the ground that they owe their unity to something more
properly one (Z 4, 1030a28b13).
Another potential problem is that, as we saw earlier, there are no accidents of
accidents. How could the sweet or the white be subject to the PNC in a significant
way if there is nothing that can belong and not belong to it, inasmuch as nothing
belongs to it? Although accidents do not have accidents, they do have essential
attributes; white, for example, is a color. The PNC stipulates that it could not
also be a not-color. But such generic predications are not what motivates followers of Protagoras to deny the PNC. These latter are, rather, concerned with the
simultaneous presence and absence of attributes, and Aristotle formulates the
PNC to apply to things independently of whether they are predicates or subjects:
something cannot be and not be, at the same time, in the same respect, etc.
Thus, the formulation of the PNC that is best suited to attributes is the fourth:
it is impossible for the same thing to be and also not to be. That is, the PNC
excludes whites being and not being at the same time, in the same way, and
so forth. This formulation accommodates attributes and ousiai equally well.
It is the most general of Aristotles formulations. Even though Aristotle does
not mention it with the others in 3, he uses it to apply the PNC to attributes
(e.g., 1010b15-19). This answers the question I raised at the beginning of this
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discussion about how to apply the principle to ousiai and attributes alike. The
fourth formulation is entirely universal.

The best known argument against the PNC apparently originates with
Heraclitus (1010a1015; M 4, 1078b1217):
Further, seeing that every nature is something moving, and that nothing
is true of what is changing or, at least, that it is impossible that there be
truth of what is changing in all respects and all waysout of this there
blossomed the most extreme belief . . . (1010a710).
The ensuing remarks (1010a1015) mention Cratylus rejection of Heraclitus
claim that one cannot step into the same river twice. Whereas Heraclitus
thinks that, having changed, the river one stepped into a second time would
no longer be the same, Cratylus denies that the river is ever one and, ultimately,
concludes that it cannot even be spoken of as a river. Both think that since
there is nothing that is one and the same, there is nothing to which the PNC
could apply. Hence, the principle does not hold.
Against this extreme version of the argument, it is appropriate for Aristotle
to point to the existence of things that are unchanging (1010a2532) and, thus,
capable of being known. But a more limited version of Heraclitus argument
is endorsed by Plato to show that only sensibles do not admit of knowledge
(Timaeus 28a, 29bc); and Plato, of course, does not dispute the existence of
unchanging things. It is important for Aristotle to deal with Heraclitus argument if he is to maintain that the PNC has universal extension.
Aristotle addresses it as follows:
In respect of this argument we say that . . . that which is losing [a
character] has something of what is being lost, and it is necessary that
it be something of what it is becoming; and in general if something is
destroyed, it will become some being, and if it comes to be, it comes to
be out of something and it must come to be by something, and this will
not continue infinitely (1010a1522).
In other words, change presupposes the existence of forms, forms that are lost
or acquired. Moreover, the acquisition or loss of a form is brought about by
something which itself has the form, and this latter acquires or loses its own
form by still another thing with the form. There are not an infinite number
of such causes. Thus, contrary to what Heraclitus argument assumes, nothing
changes entirely in all respects. Change occurs when some form is given up
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and another is acquired, and it is knowable through the forms acquired or

lost. Hence, change does not imply that contradictions exist together, nor is
change incompatible with knowledge.145
What Aristotle does not say here is that often the loss and acquisition of
the form is regular. Change need not falsify claims about things if the claims
include the regular order of the change.146 Thus, the growth and development
of animals, as well as their decline and decay, follow a determinate and often
well-known path. Because the change is orderly, there is a sense in which it, too,
is always the same. As such, change is subject to the PNC and knowable.
*****
The striking feature of Aristotles arguments against the argument from change,
the argument from sensation, and Heraclitus argument is that they depend
on the existence of essences. His first of these arguments shows that motion
requires a distinction between the nature of the substrate and the nature of
attributes belonging to it. Aristotles response to the argument from sensation
is to insist that each sensible quality have its own form or essence, and he deals
with Heraclitus argument by also insisting that any change, whether substantial
or non-substantial, presupposes the existence of forms or essences.
Aristotles assumption of essences to refute denials of the PNC is familiar
from earlier arguments. But these last three arguments are different because
they require the assumption of specific essencesthe essences of particular
sensible ousiai and of their attributes. Apparently, Aristotle is extending the
scope of the PNC by ascribing particular essences to all beings.
The notion that the person who denies the PNCAristotles opponent
would be willing to grant that all beings have essences is surely absurd. Nor
would he be willing to agree that there is scientific discourse if it entails that
terms refer to these essences. Better, then, to say that, in 5, Aristotle does not
so much argue against denials of the PNC as disable the arguments for denying
it by showing how they could be circumvented. Indeed, this interpretation is
consonant with the emphasis, in Aristotles discussions, on accepting forms
and essences. The only plausible way to make sense of 5 is to accept, again,
that its ostensible conclusion, the truth of the PNC, serves as its real premise.
If some doctrine enables us to avoid denying the principle, it should be true.
In this case the doctrine is that every being has its own essence.
Why presume that the PNC is true? In advancing the three arguments under
discussion here, physicists and Protagoreans deny not only the PNC but also
145. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:276, accepts Bonitzs view that Aristotle does not
reconcile change with the PNC, just the opposite of what I argue here.
146. For a discussion of how the order and regularity of change allows changing
things to be known, see my Aristotle on Knowledge of Nature chapter in Form
and Reason.
453
the existence of change and knowledge of attributes. Were they right, no art,
not even a productive art, could exist; and even if one did, no person could
come to possess it. That there is, for example, an art of working with leather
whose practitioners can give attributes to leather so as to shape it into shoes
shows that change exists and that there is knowledge of some attributes. The
PNC must apply to them. The only reason for acquiescing to the arguments
against the PNC is an inability to explain why they are mistaken. If, then,
Aristotle succeeds in undermining them, we will be right to dismiss them.
If he needs to assume essences of sensible ousiai and their attributes to do so,
these latter must have essences. Does he need to assume essences? Is this the
only way to avoid denying the PNC? Aristotle does not argue for the uniqueness of this solution, but there is a special connection between essences and
the PNC. To know something is, most properly, to grasp what it is, that is, its
essence. Those who deny the PNC deny the possibility of knowledge. It is,
then, important to know that anything that has an essence is subject to the
PNC and, thereby, knowable. Since there is good reason to think that we know
at least some attributes, they must have essences, and this implies that they
are subject to the PNC. Since, then, essences disable the arguments against
the PNC, since there is knowledge of attributes and ousiai, and since to know
something is to grasp its essence or form, attributes and ousiai have essences.
Hence, all beingseven attributeshave essences.
This conclusion is an important achievement. In book Z Aristotle explains
more about what the essences of sensible ousiai and attributes are (e.g., Z 46).
Here in his concern is only to show that they exist. Whereas the first part
of book shows that each being can be known as a being, the upshot of the
lengthy treatment of the PNC is that each being can also be known through its
own essential formula. Each is not merely a being but an essence or a nature,
indeed, a type of ousia.
Earlier, I mentioned Aristotles assertions that the PNC obviously holds for
what does not change. We can now see the reason: such things are obviously
one and obviously have essences. Lacking matter, they have no possibility of
either plurality or change (cf. 8, 1074a3337). Aristotle extends the principle
to sensibles by recognizing that each of them is also one and has an essence.
Clearly, sensibles lack the unity of supersensibles.147 Still, the question is not
147. William R. Wians, The Philosophers Knowledge of Non-Contradiction, Ancient
Philosophy26 (2006):33334, nicely contrasts the knowledge of the PNC that is
prior for us with that which is prior in nature. The philosopher possesses the latter because it depends on immovable substance (pp. 34950). However, Wians
claims that this is the ousia discussed later in the Metaphysics; he probably means
the supersensible unmoved movers. But Aristotle evidently thinks the philosopher
also knows that the PNC applies to all beings, sensible ousiai and attributes alike.
Wians does not address the crucial question of why this is.
454
whether they are one, but whether the unity they have suffices for them to be
known. Aristotles insight is that, though the unity of a Platonic form enables
us to ascribe the PNC to it, a lesser unity will suffice for a thing to be subject
to the principle. Insofar as sensibles have essences, they are one, one instance
of the essence orto use Aristotles 6 classificationone in formula. The
unity each has in virtue of its essence is enough to refute the arguments of the
physicists, the Protagoreans, and Heraclitus. Aristotle has not said that these
essences are eternal, nor even that they are unchanging. For Aristotles argument, they need only be one in the sense of having an identifiable nature.
5.9.6 6: Relatives
The continuation of Aristotles discussion of the PNC in 6 is difficult. On one
hand, his remarks seem still to be addressed to a recalcitrant denier of the PNC
who seeks to affirm Protagoras view; on the other, he is considering the role
of relatives in respect of contradiction and objections to the PNC. For the denier
to insist that the PNC be demonstrated to him is, in a way, to make it relative
to himself, and thereby not an independent principle. Aristotle considers a
denier who insists that perceptions are relative to the perceiver and that that
renders them subject to contradiction because appearances differ to different
people. Further, the denier claims that something may appear to be honey to
sight but not to taste, or even one thing to one eye but something else to the
other. Aristotle can disable these apparent contradictions simply by insisting
on specifying to whom, when, in what respect, and how it appears (1011a2224,
a34b1). Still, someone intent on denying the PNC could attack this defense
by insisting that these perceptions are apparent to the person who perceives
them and, thus, contradictory to the perceiver (1011b13). In order that the perceptions be contradictory to a perceiver, he needs to have them at the same
time; so everything past and future will either not belong to him together or,
alternatively, exist in the present as his, possibly contradictory, memories and
anticipations. Then everything will be relative to his belief and perception,
and nothing in the past or future could come to be without his supposing it
so. If there is a real past and future, not everything would be relative to him
(1011b4-7). However, he would not necessarily be in a position to know this
because all his perceptions exist for him in the present.
The reasoning that undermines this version of the denial is complicated.
I think Aristotle relies on the character of relatives. As I understand it, his
argument here is the following (1011b7-12): If some thing or subject is one, then
it can stand in a relation to something else that is one or determinate, and
the two are correlatives; but when one thing stands in relations to two other
things, it will be a different correlative of each. Thus, if one thing A is both
half and equal, say, half in respect of B and equal in respect of C, then it will
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not be equal in respect of the double, B. That is to say, insofar as two distinct
things are relative to A, A is the correlative to both, but in different ways. If,
then, something is being opined, it will stand in relation to what opines it. If
a man is being opined, then it is related to the thing that opines it, and this
latter will not be the man that is opined but the thing that opines a man. The
same holds of everything that the opiner opines; hence, what opines could not
be identified with anything it opines and must, therefore, lack any identity or
unity. Moreover, the opiner stands in an indefinite number of different relations with the indefinite variety of things he opines. Since he is, thereby, an
indefinite number of distinct correlatives, he cannot be one, again contradicting the initial assumption.148
Aristotle does not elaborate on the argument, but I think his point is that
if the perceiver turns out not to be one but infinite, then his various perceptions will not be contradictory because they are not the perceptions of one
and the same person. In this way, the attempts of the person who denies the
PNC to show that there are contradictions in perception will be frustrated
by the perceivers dissolution into an infinity of perceptions, each relative to
an object, but not necessarily connected with each other. In this argument
Aristotle aims at a different type of reductio against the denier of the PNC.
He grants the denier the claim that everything is relative to the perceiver, but
he uses this to undermine the persistence of the perceiver through distinct
perceptions, the assumption upon which the existence of contradictions in
belief rests. Unlike the preceding arguments where Aristotle shows that there
must be something one upon which the PNC rests, he argues here that there
is nothing one in order to show that no contradictions can occur. His point
is not that the PNC holds vacuously, but that the person who claims that one
perceiving, opining, or knowing stands in a plurality of contradictory relations must reject the unity of the perceiver. If there is no single perceiver, the
same thing cannot stand in contradictory relations. Aristotle has nicely turned
Cratylus denial of unity against itself.
5.9.7 7: The Principle of the Excluded Middle
We have seen that the PNC is tantamount to a metaphysical claim about the
nature of being. The same could be said about the principle of the excluded
middle (PEM), the principle that there is no intermediate between contradictories or, equivalently, that any character must either belong or not belong to a
particular thing (7, 1011b2324). A more literal rendering of this last formulation
148. See Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics 1:28283 and Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics:
Books , , and E,11516 for very different interpretations of this passage. My
understanding profited from Sachs note in his translation.
456
is: it is necessary to affirm or deny one thing of one thing. Whereas the PNC
denies that one thing can both belong and not belong to one, the PEM denies
that one thing can neither belong nor not belong to one. Or, to use an alternative
formulation, the PNC affirms that one thing cannot both be and not be; the
PEM affirms that one thing must be one of these two, that is, that it must either
be or not be (cf. 1011b2627). Aristotles parallel formulations of the PEM and
PNC in terms of one provoke the question whether both principles deploy
the same type of unity: is the one that is presupposed by the PEM the same one
that the PNC requires, namely, the one that belongs to something in respect
of its essence, one in formula? Any doubts on this score should be settled by
Aristotles remarks near the end of the chapter that the starting point for the
refutation of denials of the PEM is definition (1012a2122), for a definition is a
formula of an essence.
Aristotle supplies several arguments for the PEM, but most seem to turn on
the impossibility of imagining alternatives. Something one, an essence, either
exists or does not; what alternatives could there be? Aristotles insistence on the
existence of essences forestalls the type of examples that are currently proposed
as exceptions, examples where the subject to which an attribute is supposed to
belong or not belong does not exist.149 In one argument here, Aristotle reasons
that were there an intermediate among contradictories, it would either (1) be
between the contradictories, as gray is between white and black or (2) be neither of the contradictories, as something that is neither man nor horse. In (2),
the intermediate could not change because change is from, for example, notgood to good or vice versa, and the intermediate is neither. In (1), if there were
change from the intermediate, it would have to be like something that would
come to be white but not from having been not-whitesuch a thing is not
seen (1011b291012a1).150 Thus, neither type of intermediate is compatible with
change. The opponent could deny that there is change apart from rearrangement, as Anaxagoras did, and thereby overturn this argument for the PEM (cf.
1012a2627). But if there is such change, the PEM must be affirmed.
This argument and the others in this section apply equally well whether
the subject is an unchanging being, a sensible ousia, or an accidental attribute.
As I said, Aristotle tells us here that his arguments require that we assume
definitionsand this amounts to assuming essences. Since the PEM extends
as widely as the PNC, we must again infer that each being has an essence.
Aristotle devotes considerably less attention to the PEM than to the PNC.
But this should not surprise us. His aim in discussing the latter is to show
149. See Kirwans discussion, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E, 118. The examples
here are inspired by Russells The present king of France is bald.
150. I suggest that Aristotles claim that a color between white and non-white is not
seen is supposed to be humorous.
457
that each being has an essence. What we need to assume to refute denials of
the PEM is exactly the same: that each being has an essence. If I am right to
say that Aristotles real concern is not with the ostensible conclusions of these
arguments but with what needs to be assumed to arrive at them, then once
he has already examined the PNC, it would simply be redundant to devote
the same amount of attention to the PEM. As it stands, the treatment of the
PEM provides additional support for the conclusion that emerges from the
treatment of the PNC.
The foregoing discussion ties together unity with the PNC and the PEM.
This connection, in turn, raises another problem. If the PNC is a principle of
knowledge, as Aristotle insists it is (1005b1622), then how can unity also be
a principle of knowledge, as Aristotle also maintains?151 (Although the PEM
is an axiom used in knowledge, Aristotle does not refer to it specifically as
a principle of knowledge.) Can there be two principles of knowledge? Part
of the answer is that there are different types of principles of knowledge.
When we know a thing, we grasp the formula of its essence; and this essence
is one in formula. Without essence, there would be nothing to know. Unity
is a principle of knowledge because the thing knownthe essenceis one
(in formula), and the formula through which we know it is indivisible. On
the other hand, from somethings being subject to the PNC, we can infer that
it is one because, as we have seen, only what is one could be subject to this
principle. What we have seen here is that essence has the sort of unity that
allows anything with an essence to be subject to the principle. Hence, unity
links the PNC with essence. Whereas unity is a principle of knowledge in that
what is known is one, the PNC is a principle of knowledge in that only what
is subject to it can be known. That is to say, one is a principle of knowledge in
that it belongs to the essence known to be one in formula, while the PNC is
a principle of knowledge insofar as it excludes all that is not one from what
is knowable.
Consider further the one that appears in formulations of both principles.
The one essence that we know through an indivisible formula is the one
essence of which the PNC holds, the one that cannot both be and not be. What
the PNC tells us is that this one is just what it is and not something else. The
PNC is a negative way of expressing the unity of the thing: each thing is one
essence and not the negation of that essence. In contrast, the positive principle
of knowledge is just the essence, that is, the unity that is grasped through a
single act of the intellect. It is clear that both principles refer to the same unity.
151. See my discussion of one as a principle of knowledge in 2.3.
458
Furthermore, it is now clear why Aristotle can speak of the PNC as belonging
to all beings (3, 1005a2223), as if it were an attribute of some sort. It belongs
to every being because every being is also an essence, and the PNC belongs
to essence because it is, as it were, a way of expressing the unity of essence.
What sort of a thing is the PNC? A cause is a thing, a being of some sort,
but a principle of demonstration like the PNC is not a cause because it is not a
thing. Even so, the principle must be some aspect of things if we can use it to
derive sound inferences about things. It cannot be a proper attribute because
it does not belong to a single categorial genus. That is why it is included in
metaphysics. It does not have any formal content because it does not tell us
what kind of nature a thing has. What it tells us is that the thing has a nature.
Again, the PNC conveys just what the unity in formula correlated with it
conveys, namely, that that to which it belongs is some sort of nature. Thus,
though, the PNC is not properly a thing, in the context of metaphysics it is a
sort of essential character of beings, as is its correlated unity.
Through most of the preceding discussion of the PNC, I have spoken of ousia
and essence in the same breath, as Aristotle often does. I have claimed that the
principle applies to each being because each is one insofar as it has an essence.
Although it sounds strange, we could also say that the PNC applies to each
being insofar as each being is an ousia. Clearly, this is an unusual usage of the
term ousia, but it is consistent with the way Aristotle uses the term here and
in 2. Since the PNC extends universally, so must essence and ousia. In bookZ
Aristotle argues that essence applies most properly to the categorial genus of
ousia and in a lesser way to the other beings (4, 1030a2832). This is clearly a
more restrictive use of ousia and a refinement of the doctrine implicit in book
that every being has an essence of some sort. It would be a mistake to try to read
the refined notion of essence that emerges in Z back into . Here in , an essence
is a nature, a character of greater determination than being; it is that to which
the definition or the what it is ( ) refers. Indeed, Aristotle speaks in the
beginning of as though being has its own ousia and essence, and we have
seen that it is common to every being to have a nature. But having a nature
is not properly a nature, and the natures that individual things have differ from
each other. Aristotle relies on the particular and diverse essences of individual
beings in his treatment of the principles of demonstration. Because every being
has its own essence, and the essences of things in different categorial genera
differ, there is no proper essence common to all beings.
Aristotles notion that the PNC, and also the PEM, belong to essences is
antithetical to our usual way of thinking about logical principles. Although
positivism is no longer popular, we still tend to think of logic as an autonomous
realm that stands apart from the sphere that admits of empirical research. It is
a problem for us to account for the connection between logic and experience:
459
why does logic apply to the world? According to my analysis in this chapter,
Aristotle does not regard logic as autonomous; rather, he hangs logic upon
things, as it were. For this is just what it means to show the principles of logic
to be dependent upon ousiai or essences. Aristotles ultimate principles of logic
are ontological principles. Because he grounds logic in things, the question of
the relation of logic and the world must begin with an account of things and
their principles. Accordingly, it is the science of metaphysics that investigates
the first principles of logic.
The preceding analysis of 48 has focused on the connection between
the PNC and the claim about signifying one thing that Aristotle ostensibly
uses to establish this principle. Although I have left out many details of the
arguments, it should be clear that this unity plays a central role in Aristotles
discussion and that his treatment of the PNC and the PEM also serves to
characterize being as essence. Not only are these principles treated in metaphysics, but their treatment helps to further the central aim of the discipline,
the inquiry into being.

The analysis of book that I have proposed in this chapter is not easy. If it is
right, the book treats being by means of one, and its apparent conclusions mask
the real aim of the arguments, the establishment of the ostensible premises.
Aristotle emerges here as intent on explaining how being can be treated by
one science and justifying that explanation by showing that all beings have
essences. The subject of the science that treats being qua being is a peculiar
type of ousia: being that is treated as if it were an essence. This view of being
differs from what comes later and from what is generally recognized as standard Aristotelian doctrine.
Following out the argument of book has indeed taken us over unfamiliar
paths. Yet, we need not be disturbed if we can understand why Aristotle may
espouse the views he does in book and if we can see that these claims about
being and one represent preliminary remarks that Aristotle, after further
inquiry, refines, but does not refute, later in the Metaphysics. Book uses the
unusual expression being qua being as a placeholder to speak of the essence
of being before determining what it is, and it assumes that each being has its
own essence. These are claims that must be more finely hewn later, but book
manages to put them to use even in this rough form.
In this chapter I have tried to show Aristotle at work using ideas to resolve
problems. The tools at hand are being and one, and it is the peculiar character
of metaphysics that they also happen to be the material to work upon. The
460
work Aristotle does, his process of argumentation, may well seem strange
to us; yet, understood through being and one, it is peculiarly Greek. This
picture of Aristotle at work differs from the usual view where being at
work means testing hypotheses and then discarding or modifying them.
The work we have seen here consists of resolving aporiai by introducing new
doctrines and resolving further aporiai by refining those doctrines. This is
the work of inquiry, the pursuit of a problem through a series of steps that
hone and refine.
At first consideration, beings seem to have so little in common that they
cannot be treated by a single science. Were this the case, there could be no
science that considered the highest principles and first causes of all things.
Hence, Aristotle introduces the notion of a pros hen genus and ascribes it to
being. It follows that all beings share a kind of common generic nature; Aristotle
calls it simply ousia and speaks as though this nature of being belonged to
each being, but it, too, remains a placeholder. Insofar as being has a nature,
being is one. The features it has as such allow it to be the subject of a single
science, the science of being qua being. And, with this nature, being admits
of per se attributes. What is crucial is that being have a nature, and being
qua being refers to it, whatever it will turn out to be. However, if this nature
were merely to be some single type of being, then all beings would not be
subject to the PNC and would, therefore, not be knowable. In order to affirm
the PNC, Aristotle further determines the character of being: each being is not
only a being; it has (or is) its own proper essence. And this essence is the being
of the thing or, as Aristotle puts it, the being for it. With this result, we see
that the nature common to every being, that is, being qua being, is simply
its having some sort of essence. This common feature is not, though, a common
essence shared by all beings. It is a way of treating being: this way is to treat
being qua being, that is, as an ousia, though it is not properly an ousia. Thus,
being qua being has been delimited but not completely; it remains to determine what the essence or, rather, essences are. The central books distinguish
the essences of certain beings as more properly essences than others (e.g. Z
1, 1028a2936; 4, 1030a2832), and eventually book introduces still another
distinction among these essences (cf. 8, 1074a3537).
Even with this surprising characterization of being, most of the doctrines
we have seen in are very familiar. What my analysis enables us to do is to fit
them into a coherent exposition. By examining the role of one in book , we have
come to see how argues for these doctrines. Instead of a disjoint collection
of doctrines, we see that the book is beautifully organized into an extended
argument. The recognition of this argument gives us a handle through which
to interpret and understand the content of these difficult doctrines. Aristotles
exposition of them here is often too brief to avoid doubts about their meaning,
461
but once we see the role that they play in his arguments, we have external
parameters within which to interpret the doctrines. In general, each must be
understood in such a way that it can serve as the premise of one of Aristotles
arguments. We have seen that often these arguments address aporiai that are
one/many problems, that the arguments depend on something about a one
or a one and a many, but that the doctrines that resolve the aporiai need not
be doctrines of unity. Thus, Aristotle argues, in effect, that each being must
have an essence and be subject to the PNC and that being as a whole falls
under one science even while its parts are treated by many particular sciences.
One/many problems serve as the argumentative context for doctrines that
are more far reaching. We cannot appreciate these doctrines or wrestle with
them until we understand the one/many issues that Aristotle introduces the
doctrines to resolve.
CHAPTER
Book Again
At the end of 2, Aristotle lists some of the per se attributes of being qua being
that metaphysics must treat: contrary, complete, one, being, same, other,
prior, posterior, genus, species, whole, and part (1005a1118). He treats these
attributes in book as follows: contrary, same and other in 9; complete
in 16; one in 6; being in 7; prior and posterior in 11; genus in 28;
whole in 26; part in 25. Species does not receive its own discussion, not
because Aristotle neglects it but because he treats it as a kind of part in 25
(1023b1719,2225). Thus, the evidence is clear and compelling that book
contains the treatment of essential attributes whose inclusion in metaphysics
book justifies. Moreover, its position immediately after Aristotles treatment
of the axioms of demonstration, whose inclusion in metaphysics also justifies, is entirely appropriate.
Why, then, have scholars persisted in treating this book as a dictionary
whose inclusion in the Metaphysics is accidental? One answer is probably
rooted in the character of the book itself. It consists of a series of chapters each
. The inclusion of being in the list of attributes might seem inappropriate especially
to those who identify being qua being as being or a way of treating being. We
can recall that Aristotle includes a things genus among its per se attributes (An.
Po. A 4, 73a3437) and that being is a sort of genus.
. Alexander, In Aristotelis Metaphysica Commentaria,344.3345.20. One person who
thinks that is where it belongs and that it is systematic is Thomas Aquinas,
Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle,V. L.1:C 749. He thinks has three
parts: Chapters 15 examine senses of terms that signify causes, Chapters 615
examine senses of terms that signify the subject or parts of the subject of the science, and Chapters 1630 examine senses of terms that signify the properties of
being qua being. All these could count as what belongs to being qua being per se;
see Aristotles discussion of the various ways things are said to belong per se in
An. Po. A 4, 73a34b24.
. External support for taking as an out of place dictionary has been garnered
from Diogenes Laertiuss referring to a book about things said in so many ways
or by addition in his list of Aristotles works (Lives 5, 23 in: Diogenes Laertius,
Vitae Philosophorum,321.10 ). Thus, Moraux, Les Listes Anciennes,73, identifies this
book with and claims that there is no internal necessity for its position in the
metaphysics between books and E. Although he thinks belongs to dialectic
rather than metaphysics, he notes that the Metaphysics refers to it several times
under a title similar to what Diogenes Laertius gives it. Jaeger, Aristotle,203, also
463
464
Book Again
of which is devoted to the ways a term, or sometimes more than one term,
is said. I argued in Chapter 2 that the ways a term is said are not formulae
expressing meanings of the term but things that are called by the term. Even
so, the discussions of individual terms seem, at first glance, to do little more
than catalogue the different types of things to which the term is applied.
The things called by two of these terms are discussed in far more detail and
in what is more obviously a properly metaphysical way later. The entirety
of the central books, books E- on my reckoning, explore the ways being
is said, and all of book I is devoted to the ways one is said. In comparison
with these treatments, Aristotles discussions of being and one in 6 and 7
seem piddling, even though the former serves as his starting point for the
central books (E 2, 1026a33b2). Aristotles longer treatments of being and one
encourage the supposition that all of book merely catalogues things called
by terms and is, thus, mostly peripheral to the main themes of metaphysics.
Moreover, many of the things discussed in are not mentioned in as attributes of being qua being.
What is most significant about book is not its content but the possibility
of treating beings that do not belong to a single category. Consider, again,
the picture of Aristotelian science that we get in the Posterior Analytics. One
science knows one genus. Since some genera are species of others, we get
a network of embedded sciences, each devoted to demonstrating essential
attributes of the nature shared by instances of its subject genus. Since being
is not a genus, there is no proper generic science of being, though, as we
saw, it can come under a science because being is pros hen and, therefore, a
kind of quasi-genus. This means that characters that belong to more than
one categorial genus fall under metaphysics. It is for this reason that the
thinks that book is a misplaced dictionary. Additionally, s not being included
in what appears to be another version of , , and E in book K counts as more
external evidence that it does not properly belong among these former books;
Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,122. (Oddly, though, when Kirwan
refers to this discussion in his second edition, he speaks of it as showing that
earns its place in the Metaphysics, p. 202.) There may, though, be other reasons that
K does not discuss . Reale, for example, proposes that functions as a practical
and didactic means of making succeeding discussions easy and can, therefore,
be omitted from Ks summary, Reale, The Concept of First Philosophy,344.
. Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,122. In his Introduction to
Alexander, On Aristotles Metaphysics 5, trans. W. E. Dooley (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell
University Press, 1993),2, 129 n. 5, W. E. Dooley claims that s treatments of
mutilated, falsehood, and thesis have little relevance to metaphysics. This is not
right. Falsehood is a way of being or, rather, not being; mutilated and position,
both discussed in 27, are connected with unity. Quite a few of the other things
discussed in come up again in book Is treatment of one.
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465
treatment of the PNC is included in metaphysics. The per se attributes of

being qua being also belong to more than one categorial genus and, so, fall
under metaphysics, as we saw.
The question is, how does metaphysics know these attributes? That is, what
does it know about them? If it were a proper science, we would expect it to
demonstrate them or to use them as middle terms to demonstrate something
else. That clearly does not happen in , and we can see why. Although we now
know that every being has, in addition to its being, some essence, there is no
common essence that all essences share and from which the essential attributes
of all essences might be demonstrated. There is no essence of essence, nor
could there be any other real character common to all because every essence
and every character falls within some one categorial genus. What, then, are
we to make of the attributes of being qua being? They are not real characters.
So, what are they?
Later, in Metaphysics I, Aristotle contrasts the essence of fire with the essence
of element (1052b914). Fire is an element; but they are not the same because
fire is a thing and a nature, and the term element signifies something that
is the primary constituent of something else. Just as element refers either
to fire or this latter definition, the essence of one ( ) could be
said of certain things, or it could be something closer to a word (1052b57).
Similarly, 3 distinguishes several different kinds of elements. First, there are
the elements of speech, the constituents into which it is divided that cannot
be further divided; these are the letters (1014a2731). There are also elements
of bodies (1014a3135) and elements of geometric proofs (1014a35b3), and
universal genera and differentiae are called elements by analogy (1014b314).
Common to all of these is that the element of each is the first constituent in
each (1014b1415).
This last remark repeats what I 1 had identified as the essence of element,
an essence that is closer to a word. Evidently, the other elements mentioned
in 3 are things. Since these things, especially the last group, cut across
categorial lines, they are not real natures. What we have in this chapter are
. See Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle,V. L.1C: 749.
However, Aquinas thinks that book is devoted to defining terms (see C 750).
Reale, The Concept of First Philosophy,342, argues that is a preliminary examination of the terms which the inquiry of the successive books makes use of as well
as examines.
. This manner of speaking might seem to suggest agreement with Avicenna who
famously claims that being is added to essence as a sort of accident. Avicennas
interpretation was a central issue in medieval philosophy. I cannot do it justice
here, but my discussion of the relation of being and ousia in should forestall
this conclusion. There ousia and essence emerge as additional determinations of
being. Being signifies what all essences have in common.
466
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various sorts of things that serve as elements: letters, bodily parts, mathematical proofs, and constituents of definitions are all called elements by virtue
of some similarity to fundamental constituents. Aristotles remarks are clear
enough; what puzzles is the ontological status of element.
To answer this puzzle we need to recall what has emerged from the treatment of the PNC: each being is some sort of ousia because it has an essence.
As such, each being has a formula that is composed of constituents. Hence,
insofar as being is a genus, element is a per se attribute of each being. That is
to say, every being, we can now see, has elements, namely, the constituents of
its formula. However, this is an extended sense of element based on an analogy with what are more properly called elements (1014b36). These proper
elements, again, fall under multiple genera and seem to be only analogically
related. What Aristotle is giving us in 3s treatment of the various elements
is an account that seeks, in vain, for real natures shared by the different things
and comes up with only a weak analogy. In order to be able to consider these
things together and to grasp their similarities and differences, Aristotle needs
to treat them as the subject matter of a single science. This move is sanctioned
by, on the one hand, the argument of the opening chapters of that all beings
constitute a kind of genus and, on the other, the arguments of the books final
chapters that each being has an essence. What results from this discussion is,
however, only plurality and weak analogy. Like the essence of one, the essence
of element is closer to a word. Ironically, then, there is some justification for
calling s treatment of it and other items a dictionary.
Still, other discussions in book reach slightly more substantial conclusions. Aristotle is able to reduce the four things said to be ousia to two,
substrate and form (8, 1017b2326). (When he discusses ousia later, in Z 3, he
adds universal and genus to these two1028b3336.) He identifies first and
proper ways that nature (1015a1315) and necessary (1015b1112) are each
said, and he recognizes a proper definition of the first potency (1020a46).
These first ways are things (a) in relation to which or (b) through analogy with
which other things are called by the same term. Thus, the primary nature
is the ousia that has within itself a principle of motion qua itself, and it is (a)
in relation to this principle that the generation of growing things, the part
from which the motion occurs, the source of the motion, and the material of
the moving object are all called natures. It is (b) through analogy with this
ousia that any ousia, including the ousia of an attribute, is called a nature in
respect of its essence. Similarly, Aristotle identifies the primary necessary
as the simple, and what is necessary in this way is sometimes the source of
necessity to other things (1015b911); but here Aristotle also identifies an
essence of necessary, what cannot be otherwise, in respect of which all other
necessary things are called necessary (1015a3335).
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467
Significantly, the idea of a primary instance, in relation to which other

things are called by some term, recalls the pros hen doctrine of being. Like
the subject matter of metaphysics, the metaphysical attributes, among which
Aristotle mentions being, cut across categorial lines. In a strict and proper
science, Aristotle would be demonstrating per se attributes of a genus, and
each of these attributes (or, as in the case of odd and even, one of a pair of
attributes) would belong to each instance of the genus. Given that no proper
genus is the subject of metaphysics, the attributes it studies will generally
not belong to each instance of its subject matter. The only way to know these
attributes is to connect them with each other or with the particular types of
beings to which they belong.
My contention is that Aristotle comes to know these attributes, to the extent
possible, by identifying their primary instances, that is, the type or types
to which each of the other types of instances are related, and by sketching
essences that are common, if only by analogy, to each type. If this is right,
his identification of the primary instances of metaphysical attributes serves
as the counterpart to what would, in a proper science, be the identification of
an essential nature in respect of which attributes could be demonstrated of
a genus. He aims to know the metaphysical attributes through their relation
to a primary instance, just as he aims to know all of being through its relation to a primary instance. In metaphysics, primary instances substitute for
generic natures.
With this insight, we can see what Aristotle is seeking in , and its individual discussions become intelligible. We can also explain why this book
contains treatments of ousia, quality, quantity, and relation that differ from
those of the Categories. In the latter work, these are highest genera, and the
Metaphysics sometimes takes them to be genera (e.g., I 2, 1054a 419), that is,
proper kath hen genera. However, in each case book includes a way these
are said that extends beyond these narrow generic lines. Thus, he includes, as
one way ousia is said, the parts that delimit a body and on whose removal
the body is destroyed, such as, planes, lines, and numbers (1017b1721) and,
as another way, the essence whose formula is a definition (1017a2526). The
former is not merely a Pythagorean and Platonic way of speaking; Aristotle
regards mathematicals as ousiai in a way, as we have seen. And the latter is a
usage that extends to every being (Z 4, 1030a2832). Likewise, one way quantity is said is anything that can be counted or measured ( 13, 1020a810),
but instances of every categorial genus can be counted or measured (e.g.,
. Ross, Aristotles Metaphysics, 1:312, 325, recognizes that ousia and quality
extend here beyond the bounds of strict genera, but he does not recognize its
significance.
468
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N 1, 1088a414). A differentia of an ousia is called a quality (1020a33b1);

but since every being has such a differentia, this type of quality extends as
widely as being. Another type of quality is that in motionless things and
mathematicals that is present in their ousia but not in their quantity (1020b28).
Aristotle seems to be saying that that in, for example, six that is not quantity,
that is, what the six is six of, is quality. If this is right, then quality extends
here to what can be counted, that is, to all beings. In any case, it is clear that
mathematicals are included under this type of quality. We have seen earlier
(2.5) that some relations described in 15, namely, same, like, and equal, also
extend to all beings. In sum, then, what appear to be alternative treatments
of categorial genera are treatments of beings that extend more widely and
must, therefore, be per se attributes of being.
If there is an objection to the interpretation of I am now advancing, it will
be that these individual discussions often do not identify a primary instance,
and even where they do it does not account for all other instances, as we have
seen. I do not think that this is an objection so much as a fair assessment of
the results of many discussions in . That is to say, Aristotles efforts to connect all the things called by a particular term are notable for the degree to
which they fail. The overwhelming result that emerges from each discussion
is plurality and disconnection. My contention is that this is a positive result.
That there is, for example, no nature common to all elements, except a weak
analogy, implies that element does not constitute a distinct subject genus. Its
treatment thus falls under metaphysics, rather than another science with universal scope, and what metaphysics can know of it is its irreducible plurality.
This is the important point to emerge from Aristotles discussion of element.
Likewise, none of the metaphysical attributes has sufficient unity to be treated
independently in its own science.
The exception to this conclusion is being. Aristotle identifies four per se
ways it is said in 7, and the central books show that all these are related to
one type of being that is primary in all ways. The things said to be have a
unity that the things that are to be attributes belonging to being qua being do
not. Book s discussions show individual attributessuch as same, element, and genusto be irreducibly plural; and, in so doing, they convey
what we can now see to be a principal feature of these attributes: their lack
of independent intelligibility. These metaphysical attributes belong to the
essences and ousiai that book s discussion of the PNC showed all beings to
have. These essences are not common characters, but insofar as each is one,
they are intelligible together. The metaphysical attributes that belong to them
lack common features through which they might be grasped. They are, thus,
. Halper, One and Many in Aristotles Metaphysics: The Central Books,22729.
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469
both collectively and individually, irreducibly multiple. To the degree that

they are pluralities, they remain unintelligible. Book , on my interpretation,
is dedicated to knowing these attributes to the extent that they can be known
as well as to showing how little they can be known.
CHAPTER
Metaphysics: Universal or Special
The main problem that Aristotle faces in the opening books of the Metaphysics
is whether there is a science of metaphysics. It is not obvious that the characteristics that this science would have to have can be possessed by a single
science. On the other hand, since the existence of knowledge of beings requires
first causes, since there are first causes, and since these causes are, unlike other
causes, eternal, there should be a science that knows them and, through them,
all else. To prove that such a science exists is Aristotles task in the opening
books, and he announces his success in the first sentence of book , an assertion
that is actually the conclusion of arguments that follow. Other philosophers
have also sought to show that metaphysics is possible; Kant famously argues
that we have a priori knowledge of objects of a possible experience. For him,
the possibility of metaphysics hinges on showing that our faculties must
contribute something to objects of experience. For Aristotle, the possibility of
metaphysics turns on finding a subject matter for the science. A metaphysics
should know all things, insofar as possible; hence, it requires that all beings
belong to its subject matter. But there can be no strict Aristotelian science that
has as its subject all beings; for to be the subject matter of a science, they would
need to possess sufficient unity to be known by a single formula, but, sharing
no common nature, they lack this degree of unity. Thus, the problem of the
existence of metaphysics is a problem of unity: how could all beings and all
the topics that must fall under a science of the highest causes have sufficient
unity to be treated by one science?
Aristotle poses this problem in various ways in A-: he asks in regard to
each topic that needs to be included in the science whether it can be treated in
one science or must fall to many. If the topic falls under one science, there can
be a metaphysics; if it must fall under many, there cannot. The central scholarly
problem in the literature about Metaphysics A-, indeed, the central scholarly
problem of the entire Metaphysics, is variously formulated as the questions of
whether metaphysics is: a science of what is common to all beings or a science
of the highest causes; an ontology or a theology; a universal metaphysics or a
471
472
special metaphysics. These three questions are not precisely equivalent, but they
all spring from the problem that Aristotle himself addresses, namely, whether
there is a metaphysics at all. The scholarly formulations of Aristotles problem
do not come to grips with this issue. Consequently, even though scholars have
carefully combed Aristotles text to find his answers, they have not recognized
that he addresses the issue directly and resolves it. We cannot find him announcing either the issue or his having resolved it, but then he rarely provides readers
with signposts to help them through the intricacies of arguments. To see the
problem, we need to consider carefully the entire argument of A-. To understand Aristotles solution, we need to see that the problem is one of unity, the
unity of a subject matter and the unity of the science that treats it.
No other Aristotelian science besides metaphysics considers its own existence. The others begin by assuming the existence of their subject genera (E1,
1025b716). They each aim first to define their subject genus properly and then
to demonstrate per se attributes of it, attributes that belong to instances of the
genus in respect of its generic nature. Metaphysics cannot begin from a subject
genus; its subject, all beings, does not constitute a genus. Nor can it, lacking a
common generic nature, demonstrate attributes of its subject genus. Instead, the
first task of metaphysics must be to show that it has a subject matter and, in this
way, to prove its own existence. Thus, metaphysics deals with itself. The problem
of the possibility of metaphysics is a metaphysical problem, and it follows that
the method of resolving it must be part of the method of metaphysics.
The point of these reflections is that what has seemed a problem to scholars
with Aristotles exposition of metaphysics should be viewed as a problem
within metaphysics. And the method that Aristotle uses to address it also
belongs to metaphysics. That method is the aporetic method that we have
seen consistently at work in the Metaphysics. Aristotle lays out strong arguments on both sides of an issue and then introduces a doctrine that resolves
or undermines the apparent contradiction. We have seen that the aporiai that
Aristotle sets out in Metaphysics B all arise from the assumption that the object
metaphysics knows, the cause, is one. The difficulty is that there are multiple
ways to be one, and objects of metaphysics seem to be one in conflicting ways.
As I have said, the problem of the possibility of metaphysics is also a unity
problem. The issue here is whether the beings that must be treated by this
. See the introduction to Chapter 5 and notes 12. Most Anglo-American commentators seem to think that these issues are equivalent; see, for example, Kirwan,
Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E, 77. But to ask whether metaphysics is the
science of what is common or of the highest causes is to ask about its subject matter, whereas to ask whether metaphysics is an ontology or a theology is to inquire
about the way in which the subject matter is to be studied: is it to be treated as
simply being or as related to some first cause?
473
highest and most universal science are sufficiently one to be treated by one
science. In the rest of this chapter, I will extract the results of the preceding
discussions and show how they address and resolve the problem of the possibility of metaphysics. First, I shall characterize the picture of the method that
emerges from the preceding analyses, then I shall summarize how Aristotle
uses that method to resolve the aporiai, and finally, I shall sketch the nature
of metaphysics. One caveat: although metaphysical method involves unity
and although the problem of metaphysics is a problem of unity, what emerges
from the science is not primarily a doctrine of unity. Unity, like Wittgensteins
ladder, is thrown away once it serves its function. But, unlike the ladder, unity
remains the only way we can conceive of the discipline.

Most recent discussions of Aristotelian method take their start from
Nicomachean Ethics H 1, 1145b27. There Aristotle maintains,
It is necessary, as in other cases, to set out the phenomena (
), and after first working through the difficulties (),
in this way to show (), if we can, all the common opinions (
) concerning the affections or, at least, most and the most authoritative of them. For if the difficulties are resolved and the common opinions
remain, these latter will be sufficiently shown (1145b27).
As the discussion that follows this passage makes clear, here the phenomena
are common opinions, though elsewhere the former term may refer to the
facts. The reason it is necessary to set out the common opinions first is that
the difficulties arise from conflicts among common opinions or between facts
and common opinions. Because Aristotle begins from what is commonly said
and because he apparently aims to preserve common opinions, his method
seems to bear affinities with contemporary ordinary language philosophy.
Aristotle has seemed to many to be extracting the wisdom embodied in ordinary speech and to be defending that wisdom from apparent contradictions.
. G. E. L. Owen, Tithenai ta Phainomena, in Aristote et les Problmes de Mthode,
8486; reprinted in Aristotle, ed. J. M. E. Moravcsik, pp. 16871; and in Articles
on Aristotle. 1. Science, ed. Barnes et al., pp. 11315. Nussbaum, The Fragility of
Goodness,24445, denies that there is a difference between facts and opinions.
This passage was quoted and discussed at the beginning of Chapter 4. I discuss
the method and the pertinent literature in more detail there.
474
Martha Nussbaum even credits Aristotle with insight into the primacy of
language for philosophy: she thinks he realizes that to examine the facts is to
examine the way we describe the facts. The assumption that many scholars
think they share with Aristotle is that what is widely said to be is generally
true. The method, so understood, is called the method of common opinion
or saving the phenomena.
It is the apparent similarity of Aristotles method with contemporary philosophical methods that has, I think, led scholars to misunderstand common
opinions and their role in the method. The details of my analysis of Metaphysics
A- suggest a two-pronged corrective. First, if Aristotle were merely setting
out the way his community or other philosophers view the world, there would
be a certain arbitrariness to the views, a cultural bias, we might say. Instead,
the positions that he examines in books A and represent what he takes to
be the range of objectively possible positions. They are positions that would
need to be examined whether or not any philosophers had actually advanced
them. Consider the following: (1) even though no philosophers advance earth
as the material cause, Aristotle makes a case for it (A 8, 989a1518); (2) no
other philosopher advances final causes, but Aristotle mentions them here (7,
988b616); (3) his description of the discovery of efficient causes shows that
he thinks objective difficulties were at work: As they were proceeding in this
way, the thing itself ( ) made a path for them and led them to
search (A3, 984a1819); and finally, (4) taking unity as a mark of a cause has an
objective basis in the nature of cause inasmuch as any cause that is a plurality
must itself have a prior cause. There is no doubt that Aristotle is setting out
common opinions in books A and , but they are not mere opinions because
they express the way things are; and they are not common in the sense that all
people or, even, all the wise hold them. Indeed, the opinions Aristotle sets out
here conflict with each other, and Aristotle ascribes different ones to different
philosophers. And some of what apparently falls among common opinions
are not held by any other philosophers! Aristotles account of the capacities
of the soul in the De Anima explains why our perceptions are generally true:
he thinks that we are able to grasp forms that exist in things. Because of this
cognitive ability, common opinions express, in large measure, the way the
world is. Hence, common opinions are not merely what people generally
say; they accurately express forms that exist objectively in reality. It is just this
objectivity that makes conflicts between common opinions signify apparent
conflicts in the nature of things.
. See Nussbaum, The Fragility of Goodness,24445. At issue, is not the philosophical
question of whether or not we can examine facts independently of language, but
the question of whether Aristotle ascribes such a primacy to language.
475
The second corrective that emerges from the preceding analysis is a precise understanding of how Aristotle resolves the aporiai. It is significant that
Aristotle insists on the importance of going through the difficulties (at B 1,
995a24b4 and in N. E. 1045b27, quoted above). Evidently, working through
the difficulties is part of the method of resolving them, and we have seen why
this is so. The difficulties are antinomies. By showing that certain assumptions
lead to these antinomies, Aristotle proves indirectly that at least one of these
assumptions is wrong. If, then, he can introduce a doctrine that resolves the
apparent contradiction, and if he can make it clear that no other doctrine will
resolve it, he has an indirect argument for the doctrine. We have seen that
this is the way that Aristotle argues for the principal doctrines he introduces
in Metaphysics A-. In order to introduce a new doctrine to resolve an aporia,
Aristotle needs to be able to rely on the truth of the bulk of the doctrines
that generate it. This is what I think he means when he says in the quoted
passage that the common opinions should be preserved and that, if they are,
they are sufficiently shown. If the new solution is consistent with common
opinions, then it removes objections to those opinions and, thereby, shows
the latter to hold.
If this is right, then it is somewhat misleading to say that Aristotles method
in the Metaphysics is to draw out conflicts among common opinions. He does
use a common opinion of the wise to generate the aporiai, but common opinions mainly function as side constraints on a new doctrine introduced to
resolve an aporia. Faced with an antinomy, Aristotle could reject any number
of assumptions to avoid it. However, he insists on finding and modifying the
assumption that plays a role in generating both sides of the antinomy while
preserving as many common opinions as possible. For example, the assumption that one science knows one genus generates both sides of the first aporia;
for Aristotle uses it to reject a single science of causes on the ground that they
do not all belong to all things, but also to reject many sciences of the causes on
the ground that multiple sciences would have claims to be primary and things
in one genus would fall under multiple sciences. By expanding what a genus
is and, consequently, its type of unity, Aristotle undermines the arguments on
both sides. As I said earlier, Aristotle does not demonstrate that his resolution of
an aporia is unique, but he makes a case for his resolution implicitly by finding
the assumption that generates arguments on both sides of the aporia and then
modifying it in such a way as to preserve common opinions. More importantly,
that this modification also preserves the character of his sciences and their
principles while skirting aporia constitutes Aristotles case for it. So this first
metaphysical aporia is not generated by clashes between common opinions, as
Owen, Nussbaum and others have supposed. Nor are most of the others. As
we saw in Chapter 4, what generates the aporiai is that the common opinion
476
admits of multiple but conflicting interpretations, all of which seem to be true.

Nor is it right to suppose that Aristotles main concern in the Metaphysics is
to preserve common opinions. The common opinions he discusses most are
those of the wise, and he does not hesitate to take exception to their views even
though some truth lies within them. In general, his aim is to use the common
opinions to support his own doctrines. Uniquely Aristotles, these latter are
not common opinions. In short, from what we have seen in Metaphysics A-,
Aristotles principal concern is not defending common opinions but finding
doctrines, generally new doctrines, that resolve the difficulties. These doctrines
show common opinions to be correct only indirectly, by removing contradictions that, unresolved, would call them into question.
One of the most surprising features of my account of the aporiai in Chapter 4
is how unwilling Aristotle really is to challenge the assumption that, I argued,
is implicit in all of them, namely, that a cause must be one. He takes this to be
an authoritative common opinion. The problem is how to interpret it. Since
the cause is what is known by the science, the unity of the cause seems to be
tantamount to the unity of the sciences subject matter. This interpretation
generates the first group of aporiai, aporiai 15, which are mostly resolved in
book . But we also learn in this book that the subject matter of metaphysics
is not the same as its cause: the subject matter includes whatever is related
to its cause. (In other sciences, the subject matter is a proper genus, and its
cause is the generic nature each instance shares. Ideally, the cause serves as
the middle term of a syllogism demonstrating attributes of a genus.) Hence,
in metaphysics, the assumption that a cause is one can also be interpreted to
apply more narrowly to the cause, in contrast with the subject matter. This is
the interpretation of the common opinion that Aristotle explores in books A
and . It generates aporiai 69 which are resolved in books E-. Aporia 10 also
arises from the assumption that a principle is one (see 4.3), but it is resolved
along with the final group of aporiai, 1115, in books I-N. These latter consider
candidates for first principles, most of which are advanced as principles
because of their unity.
In short, on my analysis the key common opinion whose varying interpretations generate the aporiai is that a cause is one. Aristotle makes clear
in Metaphysics A that his predecessors also assume that a cause is one, and,
as he presents them, they think that the problem of the one and many is the
central issue in metaphysics. This alone is a sufficient reason for Aristotle to
. That the solution to an aporia is a new doctrine is not unique to metaphysics. After
recounting the aporiai that Aristotle introduces with a methodological passage from
N. E. H 1, Aristotle notes, the solution of an aporia is a discovery (2,1146b78).
. I suggested earlier (4.3), without proof, that the assumption that a principle is one
also contributes to the tenth aporia.
477
endorse the common opinion that a cause is one and to explore for himself
the problem of the one and the many.
But there is another, more important reason for Aristotle to explore this
issue: the problem of the one and the many is inherently bound up with the
existence and nature of metaphysics. A highest science is the only science
there is or, if there are others, it is prior to them. Asking whether there is a
first science that stands above the others already demands that we consider
the relations between the one highest science and the many other sciences.
Since each of these many sciences would have to have its own subject matter, we must also ask whether metaphysics has its own subject matter and
what that subject matter would be. On the other hand, insofar as it is the
highest science, metaphysics must somehow include the other sciences and
their subject matters within its scope. And that raises the question of what it
could add to what these other sciences know of their subjects. Metaphysics
is problematic; for it is not clear that there is anything it could add to what
particular sciences know of their subjects, nor that there is anything that
it could know apart from what is known by the particular sciences. We
can pose the problem of metaphysics in terms of the one: on one hand,
there could not be a science of all things unless they are all one, but if, on
the other, they are one, then how could there be many particular sciences?
Again, in order for metaphysics to exist, all things must have some unity;
in order for other sciences to exist, all must be many. In this way, questions
about the existence of metaphysics are inevitably tied to questions of the
unity or plurality of all things and the unity or plurality of the sciences.
Since metaphysics must, as we said, consider its own existence, it must treat
problems of one and many.
In investigating whether the topics it ought to treat fall under one or many
sciences, Aristotles metaphysics is doing explicitly what any metaphysics
must do; namely, considering whether it can have a subject matter or whether
the topics it ought to treat belong to other sciences. Thus, the problem of the
subject matter of metaphysics is tantamount to the problem of the relation of
metaphysics to the other sciences. And, in investigating the latter, Aristotelian
metaphysics is investigating itself and its own possibility. In short, the problem
of the one and the many, the problem of the relation of metaphysics to other
sciences, and the problem of the possibility of metaphysics are all the same
problem. Aristotle addresses all of them by addressing the question whether
its subject matter is one or many.
. These are the terms in which Plato raises the problem of metaphysics. See, for
example, his extended discussion in the Charmides (170a175a), a dialogue that
many continue to suppose not to be about metaphysics.
478
It is well-known that Aristotles metaphysical aporiai often begin from

Platonism. It is also well-known that, in drawing up the aporiai, Aristotle
argues against what appears to be the position that he develops in the Posterior
Analytics. As we saw in the first chapter, these facts have spurred much speculation about Aristotles development. But we have now seen that these aporiai are
one/many issues, and that the one/many problem is intrinsic to metaphysics.
We need to ask whether the aporiai are also intrinsic to metaphysics. Consider
the content of the Platonic positions Aristotle argues against as he draws out
the aporiai. Platonism, as he understands it here, supposes that all is ultimately
one and known by a single science (cf. A 7, 988b15); it excludes the existence
of any particular sciences. On the other hand, the notion that all beings share
nothing in common but that different genera are treated by distinct and selfsubsistent sciences is a position that Aristotle himself seems to endorse in
the Posterior Analytics. So both Platonism and Aristotelian science loom in the
background of the aporiai. And they would do so whether or not Aristotle was
acquainted with Platos philosophy or had himself formulated an account of
scientific knowledge. Book B considers the historical positions because they
provide the logical alternatives in respect of which Aristotle formulates the
problematic of metaphysics or, better, in relation to which metaphysics considers its own possibility. Either there is one science of all things or each being
is known by a unique science and there is no metaphysics. These positions
delimit the possibilities. Aristotle would need to consider them whether or
not they had been previously defended.
Thus, it is a mistake to think of the metaphysical aporiai as problems that
Aristotle happened to have been troubled by at one stage of his career. Rather,
these problems are as intrinsic to metaphysics as problems in mathematics
are intrinsic to mathematics. Every discipline has its own set of problems,
problems that anyone investigating it would encounter. The metaphysical
aporiai Aristotle draws up in book B are such problems, despite formulations
that could suggest otherwise. In failing to see this, scholars have failed to
understand the aporiai and their solution.

Aristotles metaphysics determines its own nature by showing the nature of
the subject it treats. In order to explain how Aristotle accomplishes this in
the opening books of the Metaphysics and to explain further how the method
works, I collect together, in this section, earlier results about the aporiai and
their solution in book . The preceding argument is so long, complex, and
detailed that this summary is worthwhile despite the necessity of repeating
what we have already seen.
479
The first aporia is whether all the causes fall under one or many sciences.
Since metaphysics is supposed to know all beings, to the extent possible,
since a science knows attributes that belong per se to each instance of its
subject genus, and since not all causes belong to each being, all the causes
should not fall under the one science of metaphysics. On the other hand, if
they fall under many sciences, each science will have some claim to be called
metaphysics because metaphysics is a science of first causes, and each cause
seems to be the first cause. The first argument in 2 shows that all the causes
can come under one science that treats all beings because being is a pros hen
genus and because a pros hen genus can be known by one science. Attributes
of a genus in the strict sense, a kath hen genus, belong to each instance of the
genus in respect of the single generic nature it possesses; attributes of a pros
hen genus belong to instances of the genus only if they are related to them,
and different attributes are related differently to different instances and, in
general, are related to different instances. Causes are attributes of some sort.
If, then, the subject matter of metaphysics, that is, all beings, constitutes a
pros hen genus, then the fact that not all causes belong to each being would
no longer be an obstacle to including all the causes in the science, assuming,
that is, that each cause is related to the primary natures in the genus. Since
this solves the problem and since there seems to be no other way to solve
it that also preserves common opinion, it must be right. Thus, being must
be pros hen, the causes are related to the primary being, and metaphysics is
the science of primary beingpresumed to be ousiaand all that is related
to it (1003b1519).
The second aporia asks whether or not the principles of demonstration can
fall under the science that treats the first causes of ousia. The arguments against
one science of causes and principles are: (1) if all principles were included in
one science, they would not be able to be used by all the other sciences, and
(2) if there were one science of axioms and ousiai, everything would be demonstrated by one science. On the other side, if the principles of ousiai and the
principles of demonstration fell under different sciences, each science would
have a legitimate claim to be the first. To resolve this aporia Aristotle needs to
explain how the demonstrative principles can fall under metaphysics while
still being used by other sciences. Unlike the four causes, all the principles are,
or could be, used by all the sciences. Not all causes belong to every being; that
is why they are or are related to primary being. In contrast, all the principles
must apply to each being; thus, they could not be merely related to primary
being. If the principles are per se attributes of each being, then they will fall
to each science that treats each being. In this way, the principles will fall not
only under metaphysics but also under all the particular sciences because
each of the latter treats some being together with its per se attributes. Now in
order for the principles to be attributes of each being, each being must have an
480
essential nature (1006a28b34); for insofar as something has an essence, it can

be one in formula. Consider the way that Aristotle formulates the principle of
non-contradiction: it is impossible for one and the same thing to be and not
to be (3, 1005b2930; 4, 1006a1). Clearly, only what is one and the same can be
subject to such a principle. Something with an essential nature will have the
requisite unity. On the other hand, something that is one merely because it is a
being would not have the requisite unity, for Aristotle declares that even what
is not is (2, 1004b10). This is not to say that the latter claim is a contradiction;
what Aristotle means is that something that is in a way also is not in another
way. It is the something that is and is not that saves Aristotles claim that
what is not is from being a contradiction, for this something can be and
not be in different ways. Were there no something, that is, were there no
substrate here, the two contrary predicates would be present together and
nothing could prevent contradiction. Thus, to affirm the PNC Aristotle needs
things that persist as one and the same through change, essences. The PNC
applies to each being provided it has an essence. The reason that metaphysics
does not demonstrate all attributes (the apparent consequence of including
the principles in one science) is that a demonstration requires not only the
principles but also a subject genus and its per se attributes. Now metaphysics
treats all the genera and attributesit treats all beingsbut it treats them
insofar as they are beings (qua being). The science of mammals, for example,
demonstrates essential attributes that belong to mammals insofar as they
are mammals, that is, in respect of the essential generic nature of mammal;
the science of metaphysics also treats mammals, but it can demonstrate only
what belongs to them insofar as they are beingsand this is what belongs to
them insofar as they have an essential nature, but not what belongs to them
insofar as they have some specific nature, like that of being mammals. Indeed,
the essential attributes of mammals are themselves beings and belong in the
subject genus of metaphysics. Hence, the demonstrative principles fall under
one science that does not demonstrate all attributes.
The third aporia is the question whether one or many sciences study all the
ousiai. Again, if there were one science that studied all the ousiai, one science
would demonstrate all their attributes. If, on the other hand, there were many
sciences of ousiai, which would be the first science? All ousiai must fall under
one science if there is to be a metaphysics. But rather than simply arguing
for the one science alternative, Aristotle needs to explain how one science of
all ousiai can leave room for particular sciences to demonstrate attributes of
particular ousiai. His argument for the resolution is complex. First (argument
two of book), since there is one science of the quasi-genus being, this science
should also study the species that fall under this genus. Second (argument
three), each of these species is also associated with its own unity, and can be
481
ordered on the basis of its degree of unity. Third (appendix), the species of
being are just the ousiai. In other words, Aristotle shows that all ousiai can be
included in one universal science that studies being if the ousiai are the species
of being. (Here the term ousia does not refer to the categorial genus of ousia
but to any being with a nature, a usage that is surprising and unusual, but
consistent with the arguments for non-contradiction and with the rest of book
and with 8, 1017b2326.) Metaphysics would thus treat all ousiai. The reason
that metaphysics does not demonstrate all the attributes of these ousiai is that
one ousia is first and the others follow, just like in mathematics (1004a39).
The branches of mathematics are successive: their subject matters, the unit, the
point, the line, and so forth, form a sequence of things with lesser degrees of
quantitative unity ( 6, 1016b2331). Each branch demonstrates per se attributes
of its subject, and the results of prior branches are used in posterior branches.
Just as one science of mathematics is compatible with distinct branches and
does not demonstrate all their attributes, so too one science of metaphysics or, as
Aristotle calls it here, philosophy is compatible with particular sciences that
treat successive ousiai, and it does not demonstrate their attributes. Moreover,
there is some reason to think that ousiai are indeed successive: they, like the
mathematicals, are each one in different ways. Following out the parallel, we
would expect the primary ousia to have characteristics shared by all other
ousiai, just as the unit is used in all other branches of mathematics. In this
way, a universal science that treats all ousiai (by treating the first ousiacf. E1,
1026a2732) is compatible with the existence of particular sciences that also
treat these ousiai and their attributes. Thus, the second and third arguments
of 2 work together to refine the idea of a generic science and its relation to
its species in a way that allows the resolution of the third aporia.
The fourth aporia asks whether the science that investigates all ousiai also
investigates all their per se attributes. The problem is that if there is one science
of ousiai and attributes, then there will be demonstrations of essences. If, on the
other hand, the attributes and ousiai fall under many sciences, there will be a
science that treats just the attributes; but how could a science treat only attributes? Discussing this aporia in Chapter 4, I proposed that the demonstrations
. This reason that metaphysics does not demonstrate all the attributes of all ousiai
is different from the reason metaphysics does not demonstrate all attributes that
we saw in Aristotles solution to the second aporia. There, metaphysics knows
ousiai as beings, that is, as having essences of some sort, but does not know their
specific essences. Here, the idea is that metaphysics will know the specific essences
of the first ousia but not of the others. Thus, in answering the second aporia, we
must see that metaphysics does not know the specific nature of some essences,
whereas in answering the third, we see that metaphysics does know the specific
nature of some essences but not all. These claims are compatible.
482
of essences should be understood as demonstrations of mathematical characters,

for these have essences. Aristotles discussion in supports this interpretation
because it takes mathematicals as ousiai of some sort, just as book Bs exposition of the aporia does. (It is hard to imagine book Bs exposition of the fourth
aporia being written without the discussion of book in mind; and, conversely,
the discussion of helps us to understand what is problematic in this aporia.)
The paradox is that although mathematicals are ousiai, they are also per se attributes of other mathematicals (e.g., lines are attributes of solidsAn. Po. A 4,
73a3437) and of sensible ousiai. How can there be entities that are attributes
of ousiai but have their own natures and even their own attributes? Only ousiai
should have attributes (Cat. 2b15). If, then, metaphysics is able to demonstrate
some mathematical attribute, it will also be demonstrating an ousia; and since
metaphysics includes all beings within its subject genus, we will not be able
to say that it does not treat the attribute it demonstrates as a subject, as we
might say that the science of solids does not treat the lines it demonstrates as
subjects. Since, then, there are per se attributes that are also ousiai, some ousiai
will be demonstrable.
Since, as we saw in discussing the preceding aporia, Aristotle thinks that
the order of ousiai parallels the order of mathematicals, this paradox of demonstrable ousiai extends beyond mathematicals. Moreover, we have also seen in
discussing the PNC that metaphysics treats all beings as if they had essences,
that is, as ousiai. Since some of these ousiai in this broad sense will be per se
attributes of instances of the categorial genus of ousia, and since such attributes
can be demonstrated, there will be demonstrations of ousiai. Furthermore,
the per se attributes belonging to any being must themselves also be beings
and therefore, as such, also ousiai. So, again, there will be demonstrations of
ousiai. In sum, since each being has an essence and since some beings can be
demonstrated, there will be demonstrations of essences. But essences are not
supposed to be demonstrable.
Aristotle offers us a complex set of arguments (arguments foursix of
book) that, I think, work together to resolve the fourth aporia. First (argument four), since the opposites (privation, contrariety, and relatives) are each
defined in relation to some one, that is, a single nature, the science that treats
this one nature also treats the opposites. In this way all the opposites, as well
as everything related to them within a genus, fall under one science. Second
(argument five), Aristotle argues that just as one science studies number qua
number and its proper attributes, so too one science studies being qua being and
its proper attributes. The proper attributes mentioned in this fifth argument
are same, contrary, and onejust the attributes that the fourth argument had
included as opposites or related to opposites. Apparently, we are to understand
these opposites as attributes belonging to being qua being, parallel to the
483
attributes belonging to number qua number. These latter are per se attributes
whose definitions include the definition of number (cf. Posterior Analytics A
4, 73a37b3). Likewise, each opposite is defined through some one, that is, an
individual being; so it is, indeed, analogous to the attributes of number. But
there is also this important difference: unlike the attributes of number, the
attributes of beings are themselves instances of the genus to which they
belong. This result shows that being is not properly a genus and that the science of it cannot be conceived exactly along the lines that Aristotle sets out in
the Posterior Analytics. Unlike strict genera, the quasi-genus of being includes
entities defined through other entities that are also instances of it. Aristotles
third step (argument six) in the answer to the aporia is to distinguish between
the science that treats all beings and the sciences that treat particular beings.
Aristotle argues: since contraries are led back to one and many, and since all
are contraries or composed of contraries, all beings fall under the one science
that treats one and many. On the other hand, any particular contrariety would
have its own nature and be the principle of its own genus (1004b31); it would
fall under a particular science.
How do these arguments resolve the fourth aporia? First, they show us how
to understand the attributes treated by metaphysics. The attributes of any
particular being are just its opposites (contrary, privation, relatives) and all
that is related to them. This is important because on the surface the notion of
attributes of being makes no sense at all; again, the problem is that the attributes of being must themselves be beings. The fourth-sixth arguments show
that the attributes are other beings, but other beings that are related to what
they are attributes of. Now any particular contrariety falls to a particular
science; metaphysics is concerned with the contrarieties that belong to all
beings, that is, with contrariety itself, and opposition, plurality, and the like.
These are, somehow, attributes of all beings, and they, together with particular
contrarieties, are led back to one and many. As Aristotle says,
And it is because of this that it is not the geometer who investigates
what is a contrary, complete, one, being, same, or other, except from
hypothesis (1005a1113).
The geometer considers the round and the straight; to the metaphysician these
are instances of complete contrariety; but complete contrariety is a character
that belongs, as well, to other beings, and it is as such that the metaphysician
considers round and straight. Since neither complete nor contrariety is an
essence, the metaphysician considering them does not risk demonstrating
essences. Complete, contrariety and other attributes of beings are known
by being led back to one and many, that is, to beings; and it is the task of
484
metaphysics to show what these relations are. That is to say, metaphysics

does not demonstrate the attributes it treats because these attributes do not
have categorial natures; instead, it traces them back to the individual beings
to which they belong. This tracing is what we find in Aristotles treatments
of contrariety and other, as well as the other attributes in book : instead of
seeking common characters of the manifold types of things that are instances
of these attributes, Aristotle usually elucidates their primary instances and
connects other instances with what is primary. My claim is that this leading
back of attributes to a primary instance does duty for the demonstrations of
attributes Aristotle seeks in strict, kath hen sciences. Hence, even if the attributes have essences in some loose sense, metaphysics does not demonstrate
them so much as ground them in beings.
Further, as we saw in the appendix, the sciences and their subject matters are
successive. Aristotle suggests here that being is pros hen while one is successive
(1005a1011). Each particular science deals with a particular being, and each
particular being is one in a different way. Metaphysics is first because it treats
one and its contrary; and it is universal because all other contrarieties are led
back to it. It is pros hen insofar as it includes all the contraries. The other sciences
treat particular ones. The results of metaphysics apply to the particular sciences
that treat particular ones, and the existence of metaphysics does not destroy the
possibility of particular sciences that know particular contraries.
The fifth aporia also arises from the assumption that one science treats one
genus, but it inquires into what the genera are. In particular, it is concerned
with whether or not there are forms and mathematical intermediaries, and
this is a question about how many genera of ousiai there are. Aristotle has
much to say about mathematics in book ; he often uses its subject matter to
elucidate that of metaphysics. However, because being is not a proper genus,
he cannot discover the number of genera into which it is divided or the number of ousiai by examining beings nature. To put this point more generally,
Aristotle shows in book that there must be ousiai but not what these ousiai
must be (cf. B 2, 997a35b3; cf. 997b2526). Aristotles introduction of the idea
of successive sciences in resolving the third aporia makes way for genera of
ousiai besides sensible ousiai. On the other hand, the issue in the fifth aporia is
whether sensibles can be known: because they are changing, sensibles appear
to be unknowable unless they are grasped through mathematicals or forms,
but neither can they be properly known through these latter ousiai. Aristotles
extension of the PNC to all beings undermines the arguments that generate
the fifth aporia because in order to be subject to the PNC, sensibles must have
essences and, thereby, be knowable in themselves. As such, sensible ousiai, as
well as all other ousiai, fall within the subject genus of the science that knows
all things. Aristotle must still consider whether mathematicals and forms are
485
distinct genera of ousiai, and this discussionin books , M, and Nmust

wrestle with issues Aristotle sets out in aporia five. But these later books focus
on whether mathematicals and forms of the sort posited by Platonists exist as
ousiai, the problems posed in aporiai twelve and thirteen, rather than whether
or not sensibles are known through them, the main problem of aporia five.
In sum, book resolves the first five aporiai of book B by undermining or
refining the assumptions upon which they rest. The chief assumption is that
one science treats one genus. The rest of the assumptions also concern the
nature of the subject matter of a science. My contention is that the force of the
arguments of book is not in their conclusion, that the science of all beings is
one, but in the characteristics that all beings must have to be the subject matter
of one science; in particular, they must belong to a single genus with an essential nature, demonstrative principles, and per se attributes. The oneness of the
science is nothing more than its existence; we know from book that there are
first causes and, thus, that there should be a science (or knowledge) of them.
Since we know already that the science should exist and since its existence
is contingent upon its being one science that treats the topics that must fall
under it, we know at the start that there is one science of the various topics
under consideration here. The problem is that the subject matter does not lend
itself to treatment by one science in the way both science and subject matter
are usually understood. Thus, we face a contradictionthe first five aporiai
outlined in book B are just different manifestations of the same contradiction:
there must be a metaphysics, but such a science cannot exist. Let us suppose
that there is one and only one doctrine or set of doctrines that removes this
contradiction. Provided that it does not lead us into more serious problems, it
must be true. In general, aporetic method is a way of arguing for the doctrines
that resolve contradictions. Because a contradiction cannot hold, to set out the
contradiction along with the doctrines that uniquely resolve it is to argue for
those doctrines. Aristotle presents his resolutions of the first four aporiai as a
set of arguments in book for the one science position. I have argued here
that the real force of these arguments is to justify the doctrines that serve as
their ostensible premises. This reading is entirely consonant with Aristotles
insistence in the Posterior Analytics that all inquiry assumes the conclusion
and seeks the middle term of a syllogism (B 1, 90a57), that is, its premises.
Moreover, scholars have invariably recognized that the doctrines that are
functioning as Aristotles premises are the interesting and significant doctrines of . My claim is that by identifying the role these ostensible premises
play in justifying one science conclusions, we can see how Aristotle is using
the aporiai to argue for doctrines that most readers have taken him merely to
posit: being is pros hen, being has genera, whatever is is one, each being has
an essential nature, and sensibles can be known.
486
Someone might object to my interpretation because of the richness of

Aristotles text: Aristotle seems to present several arguments for including
the same topic in one science. The only way an argument could support its
premises is if they alone justified its conclusion and we knew the conclusion
to be true, but this is not the case if there is more than one argument for the
same conclusion. The apparent redundancy of in proving that all beings
fall under metaphysics seems to undermine my attempt to read these arguments indirectly.
I have tried to skirt this problem by showing how all the arguments work
together to solve the aporiai. If I am right, there is no redundancy here. Since
all are necessary to resolve the aporiai, all the ostensible premises must be true.
At least, this is what we are supposed to infer. But the limitations of Aristotles
method are obvious. The reader must wonder whether some other doctrines
would resolve the aporiai while preserving the common opinions and whether
the doctrines that Aristotle advances do not generate still larger difficulties.
Unless Aristotle can insure that all possible alternatives have been explored
and that his solution will not run into contradictions, any doctrines that he
justifies by means of this method must remain tentative.
Perhaps Aristotle is aware of the tentative results of his method. It is often
said that what we see in Aristotles writings are not the scientific deductions
that a reader of the Analytics might expect but the exploratory gropings of a
philosopher at work. Behind this remark is the assumption that the tentative
character of the corpus is a sign of its being an unfinished work and, perhaps,
also the notion that metaphysical conclusions must remain tentative. I have
been pursuing here another explanation for the form that Aristotle uses to
present his work. Rather than making a case for his position, as a contemporary philosophical paper might, Aristotle is engaged in a philosophical
inquiry whose aim is to arrive at and support the true position. His method
is perhaps akin to the heuristic methods mathematicians use to discover theorems and proofs. Often, they look to prove particular cases or narrow classes
before tackling the general class; and just as mathematicians can verify (or
disprove) their insights by producing calculations or proofs (as Socrates does
in the Meno 82d83c), the metaphysician supports his doctrines by showing
that they resolve aporiai. The difference is that the metaphysician is not eventually able, even after finding the principles he seeks, to present the kind of
demonstration that the mathematician is. Although metaphysics deals with
. Ackrill, Aristotle the Philosopher,12,10,12, emphasizes the dynamic and probing
character of Aristotles method; he thinks the treatises show him at work examining and refining philosophical hypotheses. This notion of Aristotles method
governs the volumes in the Clarendon Aristotle series that Ackrill edited.
487
the highest and most certain truths, those truths upon which all else depends,
we cannot know them with anything like the certainty we would want. But
Aristotle thinks this a deficiency of our minds rather than the subject ( 1,
993b711). On the other hand, the details of the science of being qua being make
clear the limited degree to which all beings can be known by metaphysics.
Aristotles achievement is to show, against obstacles, that they can be known
even to this degree. If this is right, Aristotles metaphysical inquiry will always
be tentative: it straddles the barely intelligible and the hyperintelligible. His
inability to be certain about it is consonant with its character.
It might be objected that to speak of Aristotles philosophical method
as tentative is inconsistent with his own contrast between philosophy and
dialectic ( 2, 1004b1826). He criticizes dialectic for merely trying to know
what philosophy does know. In this passage Aristotle points to the failure
of dialecticians to grasp ousia; their mistake is to treat attributes without the
ousiai to which they belong. Standard Aristotelian sciences demonstrate per se
attributes of ousiai. The opening books of the Metaphysics do not assume ousiai,
but Aristotle is concerned here with whether there is an ousia for metaphysics
to study. This is, as we have seen, part of the problem of finding the subject
matter of metaphysics. If we need an ousia in order to have knowledge, we
cannot speak of knowledge before the ousia is discovered. Thus, Aristotles
method of arriving at and characterizing the ousiai to be studied in metaphysics can only be dialectical. It does not proceed by syllogistic demonstration.
But it differs, at least in the opening books of the Metaphysics, from other uses
of dialectic because it shows that there must be ousiai without showing what
these ousiai are. It leads only to knowledge that they are.
How could it lead to any knowledge? The method that I ascribe to Aristotle
resembles the method of dialectic that Socrates uses in Platos dialogues; the
aporiai function as the elenchus does. Both serve to set up problems. But Socrates
conclusions are negative or, at best, tentative.10 Why does Aristotle think that
he has arrived at something stronger? In the literature there are three general
approaches to answering this question. Because none is compatible with the
. Although Terence Irwin, Aristotles First Principles,50, refers to Aristotles method as
dialectic, he is concerned with explaining how Aristotle attains objective results
by examining opinions. More on how he addresses this issue in my text.
10. Sometimes Socrates claims to have proven things, but they are not answers to
his what is X? questions. On this issue and the elenchus, see Gregory Vlastos,
The Socratic Elenchus, Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy1 (1983):2758, and,
in the same issue, Gregory Vlastos, Afterthoughts on the Socratic Elenchus,
Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy1 (1983):7174. Vlastos asks how the Socratic
elenchus could have been supposed to establish truths. Aristotles aporetic method
has parallel difficulties for which I here propose a solution.
488
detailed understanding of the Metaphysics opening books that has emerged

from my analysis, I need do no more than mention them here. Irwin proposes
that Aristotle justifies first principles by what he calls strong dialectic. Thus,
he argues that Aristotle proves the truth of the PNC on the ground that even
those who would deny it must presuppose it in order to deny it.11 Apart from
other problems, Irwin does not explain Aristotles more problematic notion that
rational discourse needs to refer to some ousia and essence. Alternatively,
Martha Nussbaum sees the principle as intrinsic to our linguistic practice and,
hence, because we cannot consider the world apart from our experience of it
and speech about it, as the principle of all that is.12 Thus, she relies on the idea
that we cannot speak of the world apart from our perception of itbecause
that, too, would be a perception of the worldto infer that the world is as we
perceive it. What follows more plausibly is that we cannot say anything about
the world apart from our perception and, therefore, cannot know if the PNC
or other principles hold of it. A third position is that we know the PNC and
other principles to be true by an intuition of the sort that Aristotle describes in
Posterior Analytics B 19. Thus, Alan Code denies that Metaphysics 38 proves
the truth of the PNC and maintains, instead, that it shows certain features of it,
11. Terence H. Irwin, Aristotles Discovery of Metaphysics; in Aristotles First
Principles, 18788, he claims that the PNC is a principle we could not give up
without ceasing to take part in rational discourse about how things are. In order
to assert its denial, one must assume there is a subject of which contradictories
are predicated, but to make this assumption presupposes that the subject is not
its opposite and, thus, that the PNC applies to it. Hence, rational discourse presupposes the PNC. Apparently responding to Codes criticism (Irwin, p. 550 n.
18), Irwin emphasizes that rational discourse is about things, and Irwin contrasts
this realist conclusion with Nussbaums account (p. 550 n. 19). He writes:
Aristotle does not make it clear what PNC is necessary formeaningful thought or speech, discourse about subjects, or discourse about
how things areabout the sorts of subjects presupposed by science.
But the third focus best suits the place of the argument in the science
of being (p. 188).
He is right to say the discourse that presupposes the PNC is scientific discourse.
However, unless Irwin supposes that the conditions for our rational thought about
things are also transcendental conditions of things, the most that his argument
supports is that we cannot help thinking that the PNC is true; it is insufficient
to show that the PNC is objectively true. The interpretation I will propose in my
text has none of the implicit Kantian overtones of Irwins.
Kirwan, Aristotles Metaphysics: Books , , and E,204, endorses Irwins view. For
a sympathetic exposition of Irwins position, see Ian Hamilton Bell, Metaphysics as
an Aristotelian Science, International Aristotle Studies (Sankt Augustin: Academia
Verlag, 2004),9097.
12. Nussbaum remarks on the similarity between Aristotles account and Hilary
Putnams internal realism, Nussbaum, The Fragility of Goodness,254, 482 1n.34.
489
such as its being the firmest of all principles and necessary for all discourse.13
If we do not know the principle through argument, we must, apparently, know
it through intuition. The problem here is, first, we can intuit forms (De Anima
5, 430a1920), but the PNC is not a form. Second, however simple intuition
is, the process through which we come to intuition is not. Posterior Analytics B
19 concerns only the intuition of simple terms; Metaphysics A 1 propounds the
same process but takes it as far as knowledge of causes. If intuition requires
a complex preparation, it will not be helpful to invoke it unless we also can
spell out this process.
The answer to the question of how dialectical discussion justifies knowledge
that has emerged in the preceding pages is simpler than these proposals and
more plausible as a solution, even if the textual obstacles are formidable. In
working through the aporiai, Aristotle is effectively eliminating possibilities.
He is showing why the subject matter cannot be one or many causes, why it
cannot include or not include the demonstrative principles, and so forth. If he
can eliminate all the possibilities but one, he has a solid argument for that possibility. We can recall Descartes method of achieving certainty by removing
all possible grounds of doubt: sense deception, dreaming, and an evil deceiver.
Aristotle is now nearly universally supposed to be an unsystematic thinker.
This assessment needs to be challenged because we have seen here that his
text is carefully structured, closely reasoned, and often addresses problems
in the order they are posed. That he interchanges the positions the fourth and
fifth aporiai occupy in B 1 when he draws them out in B 2 has suggested to
some that the order is not important, but we should notice that in its initial
formulation aporia five concerns ousiai and is thus more properly connected
with aporia three and that, when he draws it out, aporia five becomes a broader
question about subject and principles and, thus, a bridge to the aporiai of the
second group.
My proposal is that Aristotle follows a systematic order in laying out
and resolving the aporiai through which he intends to eliminate alternative
solutions. In book A Aristotle develops a schema that he uses to eliminate
alternative accounts of the causes simply by showing that they fail to take
all the causes into consideration. It is clear that the science of highest causes
will have to know all the causes to decide which is the highest, and so it is
clear that the obstacles to a single science must be overcome. By working
13. Alan Code, Metaphysics and Logic, in Aristotle Today: Essays on Aristotles Ideal of
Science, ed. M. Matthen (Edmonton, Alberta: Academic Printing and Publishing,
1987),145: Reflection on the elenctic argument (i.e., the meta-elenctic argument)
is designed to show that the mere possibility of significant thought and discourse
requires adherence to this principle. See also, Code, Aristotles Investigation;
Bell, Metaphysics as an Aristotelian Science,88.
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through the first set of aporiai, Aristotle shows not only the character that
the science must have, but also the character of the objects it treats. We might
think, again, of a mathematician who solves a problem by progressively
determining the characteristics of the solution. So, too, Aristotle delimits the
subject matter of metaphysics. His arguments are not difficult to grasp in
themselves. Rather, what is hard to understand is the science that can meet
all the specifications that emerge. This science is indeed a strange one. Its
intrinsic implausibility as a science actually supports my interpretation of the
mechanism of progressive determination through which Aristotles inquiry
arrives at it. In short, Aristotle has organized his inquiry so as to impress
upon us both the necessity of resolving the aporiai in the way he proposes
and the impossibility of alternatives.
As described here, the method of doing philosophy displayed in Metaphysics
A- is at least as profound as alternative accounts of Aristotelian method.
Indeed, it is a method that should commend itself to current philosophers
because it uses criticism of other positions to arrive at contradiction and the
latter to achieve constructive results. As I understand him, Aristotle uses
contradictions systematically to support doctrines that provide a unique path
out of apparent contradiction.
In sum, all the aporiai addressed in the opening books ask whether some
topic falls under one or many sciences. Such questions all fall under the rubric
of the one/many problem, as I have defined it here. That Aristotle addresses
one/many questions in metaphysics is neither an accident nor an artifact of
his time. Such questions must be fundamental to any science that would stand
above other sciences. Hence, the problem of the one and the many is a problem
with which metaphysics must deal. It is also a problem that is fraught with
seeming contradictions. By advancing doctrines that skirt these contradictions, Aristotle argues, in effect, for the doctrines. Thus, although one/many
problems define the metaphysical problematic, solutions include doctrines of
essences and ousiai that seem to have little connection with the problematic
from which they spring.

Aristotle characterizes metaphysics in two ways in books -: it is the science
of first principles and highest causes and also the science that studies being
qua being. This dual characterization suggests the question that has dominated
scholarly discussion of Aristotelian metaphysics: is metaphysics most properly
the science of all of being or the science of a particular being, namely, the first
being or first cause? Book is often supposed to be a source for the broader
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view of the science and its subject matter and book for the narrower view. But
both introductory books (A and ) concern causes and contribute to the search
for a first cause of all beings; book B explores difficulties not only about all of
being, but about the first principles and causes; and book , the principal text
for scholarly discussions of being, also mentions the importance of recognizing
the supersensible (1010a13; a3235). So the opening books of the Metaphysics
already present loci for the traditional conflict. They also suggest a solution. As
the first two chapters of book A explain, the first principle is the principle of all
beings, and the wise man knows all things as far as possible. Aristotle supposes
here that the wise manor, as we would say, the metaphysicianknows all
beings by knowing their first principle or cause and that this cause or, as we
see later, these causes will themselves be some beings.
Just how one science can know all beings through their first causes is problematic because of Aristotles understanding of the sciences. We have seen
how Aristotle surmounts this problem and includes all the causes within the
scope of one science even though they do not belong to all beings. The question now is, why is it that to know the causes in such a science is to know all
beings? In a typical Aristotelian science, the subject matter is a genus, and
the cause is the genus essential nature. This latter is the essence of each individual in the genus, and it is in respect of this essence that each of them is an
instance of the genus. Hence, to know the cause is to know each instance of
the sciences subject matter, and from this cause it is possible to demonstrate
the genus essential attributes. In the case of being, though, where no proper
nature belongs in common, the cause obviously cannot be a nature shared
by all instances. (This is the reason that the aporiai about metaphysics subject
matter are distinct from the aporiai about its causes.) How, then, is being to
be known by grasping the cause? It is important to see that the character and
kinds of beings cannot be derived from the cause. What we see in the opening
books and repeatedly throughout the Metaphysics is the opposite movement,
namely, Aristotle tracing beings to their causes. He finds the primary nature
where another science would have found a common nature. We are supposed
to know beings through their causes, but all we can learn from the cause of
this pros hen genus is the ways that other instances of the genus depend on
what is primary. Thus, we cannot demonstrate other beings from their first
cause. We must come to know these beings in some other way.
In the preceding section, I summarized the arguments for unity; let us
now extract the features of being that emerge from these arguments. First and
foremost, being is pros hen: everything that is said to be is related to a primary
being. Aristotle suggests that this primary being is ousia, but in book he gives
this term an extremely broad sense. Here, it does not refer to the categorial
genus of ousia; it means essence, and every being has some sort of essence.
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Second, because it is pros hen, being is a genus, of a sort. This generic or quasigeneric character of being is important in explaining how being constitutes
the subject matter of a science, but it has not been sufficiently appreciated.
Third, this genus of being has species (in some extended sense of species).
These seem to be the categorial genera. Further, just as each being is one, each
instance of a species of being is also a type of one: the species of one correspond to the species of being. Fifth, the opposites are defined through unity
and are attributes of beings. In this way, being qua being can have attributes;
and since these attributes must also themselves be beings, beings are either
contraries or composed (in some sense) of contraries. Finally, non-contradiction
holds of or, better, belongs to each being because each being has an essence.
All these are what we could call structural features of the quasi-genus being.
Each indicates a way that being is organized.
What do these features tell us about the nature of being? Although Aristotle
sketches the sort of structure that being must have, he does very little in book
to expound the particular components of that structure. All beings can fall
under one science if they are related to a primary being, but Aristotle does not
describe in detail just what the primary being, ousia, is nor how all beings are
related to it. All the species of being and the species of those species can fall
under one science, but what are those species? What are the various species
of one? In each case Aristotle identifies the structure without identifying its
components. Further, none of these structures is ascribed to being as a result
of a detailed examination of its component parts. They are, rather, structures
that being must have in order to be treated by one science, structures that we
know it has because it is treated by one science. They show us how being can
be one without showing us precisely what its nature is.
In showing this unity of being, Aristotle is arguing not just for the existence of a science that knows it, but also for there being such a thing as being.
There is no question that particular things exist or that we would call them
all beings, but Aristotle needs to show that they are more than an unconnected collection. We might have thought them such and thought being
a mere name because being is not a proper, kath hen genus. There is nothingor, at least, no beingthat all beings share. If, though, it is meaningful
to say that particulars are individual beings that fall under a science of all
beings, then all beings must share something in common, even if it is only
that each has a nature. Thus, the being of the subject matter of metaphysics,
that is, the being of being, hinges on its unity. This unity is, in turn, shown by
finding structures within being, structures that allow being to be the subject
of one science. Hence, to show that being is one is to show that it is. The six
arguments in 2 show the unity of beingeach concludes that some topic
belongs to one sciencein order to show that being is treated by one science.
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These arguments are also showing implicity that being is something; but,
again, they do not show what nature it has.
It seems, then, that Aristotles concern in book is with what he terms in
the Posterior Analytics the is it question (B 1, 89b2425; 2, 89b3738). He does
not address the what is it question until book E.14 The separate treatment
these questions receive in the science of metaphysics is surprising because
Aristotle claims in book E that it belongs to the same thought to make clear
that it is and what it is (1, 1025b1617). But there he speaks of the particular
sciences, sciences that start from the essence they each treat, taking it from
sensation or on hypothesis (1025b1012). Metaphysics alone cannot begin
from its subject matter; for it must show that its subject matter is. As I put it
earlier, only metaphysics is concerned with the being of its subject matter.
Again, Aristotle shows that being is by showing that it is one: it is beings
oneness that makes it be. It is, then, not accidental that being and one are, at
once, the subject of metaphysics and characters that this subject must have.
This reflexivity of the subject matter of the science of being qua being is a sign
that it constitutes a distinct branch of metaphysics.
One way to understand why the is it question receives a separate treatment in metaphysics is to reflect on this sciences difference from Aristotles
particular sciences. In particular sciences, such as zoology and arithmetic,
there is no difference between grasping the essential nature of the genus
to be treated and grasping the subject matter of the science: the essential
nature is the subject matter. The is it question asks whether some subject
exists, and the what is it question asks what its essential nature is. So long
as the subject is its essential nature, these two questions can be answered
together; for in showing what the essential nature is, one shows as well that
it is. But in a science that treats a pros hen, the subject differs from, and is
broader than, the essential nature. Here the what is it question inquires
into the primary nature, whereas the is it question is concerned with not
only the primary nature but all that is related to it. Our subject is being. As
I said, book addresses the is it question, is being?, by showing that all
beings possess sufficient unity to be treated by a single science. The what is
it question, what is being?, is answered not with a common nature but by
elucidating the nature to which all beings are related, namely, ousia. Thus,
the is it question concerns all of being; the what is it question concerns
only the primary instance of being, for this alone is the nature of being.
Whereas the opening books are concerned with delimiting metaphysics
entire subject matter, the central books of the Metaphysics inquire into the
nature of being. Thus, the difference in perspective between book and
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the central books, so often taken to indicate Aristotles inconsistency or his

development, is intrinsic to metaphysics because of the pros hen character of
its subject. Again, we see this difference in perspective among the aporiai:
whereas some aporiai concern the unity of the subject matter, others concern
the unity of its principle. The unity of being differs from the unity to which
all beings are related, the hen of the pros hen.
This justification for Aristotles separation of the is it and what is it
questions in metaphysics suggests another justification that is both more
profound and more in line with the inquiry in book . To put it briefly, it is
only when Aristotle has answered the is it question for being that he can
pursue the what is it question, and his pursuit of the latter amounts to a
kind of continuation of his inquiry into the former. The inquiry into the is
it question turns on showing all beings to be one, and this unity depends
on another, prior one, the one that belongs to ousia. Let me sketch why an
examination of the unity of being leads inevitably to the unity upon which it
depends, the one that belongs to ousia.
First, the unity associated with being is a generic unity because each thing
is one being: each is an indivisible instance of the quasi-genus being. We can
infer this from Aristotles claim that a genus is a whole insofar as each instance
of a genus is one; for example, each animal is one animal ( 26, 1023b2932).
Similarly, each being is one being (see 5.7). Hence, being behaves as a whole,
and it should be a genus. We might object that, unlike animal, there is no
common nature that all beings share. However, Aristotle notes that one and
being are the same nature by following each other ( 2, 1003b2225) and that
neither adds anything to a nature (1003b3033). We saw earlier that these
claims belong to the argument that includes one and its species in metaphysics because of their association with being and its species. Hence, he means to
say that for something to have a nature is already for it to be a being, and as a
being, it is one, that is, one being. In any case, being and the one that extends
as widely as being are already contained within each nature. In an exactly
parallel way, animal and the unity correlative with it are also contained within
each animal nature. And here the one correlative with animal is to be one
animal, that is, to be an indivisible instance of the genus animal. Again, each
individual human nature contains within itself the genus animal as well as
the one that belongs to each instance of this genus; so, too, this individual
nature contains within itself being as well as the one that belongs to each
being. None of theseanimal, its one, being, its oneadds anything to the
nature. Since, then, being is exactly analogous to animal, the one associated
with being ought also to be generic unity.
This argument might still be challenged by those who think that Aristotles
claim that one and being follow each other asserts the convertibility of two
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transcendentals, being and one.15 In my view, this transcendental interpretation is incompatible with Aristotles remark that neither one nor being adds
anything to a nature (1003b3033) because this latter implies that both are
somehow already within the nature, and transcendentals could not be so.
Thus, the being that belongs to a nature in respect of what the nature is
does so as a universal genus, and the one that also belongs to this nature
does so because it belongs to each being. Both one and being depend on the
natures essence and, consequently, on its having another unity that is more
proper to itself and, thereby, more one. Again, just as Socrates is one animal
because he is one man, so, too, is he one being because he is one man. Since,
then, being is one because it is pros hen, the hen in respect of which something
is a being and one will be the nature that contains being and one within itself.
This nature that is and is one is also the primary nature to which all beings
are related, ousia. And we need to determine what this nature or ousia is and
why it is one before we can fully account for the unity of being. So it is that
Aristotles consideration of the is it questionan inquiry into the unity
of beingleads to a consideration of the what is it questionan inquiry
into ousia and its unity. In short, to understand the unity of being we need to
understand the unity of ousia.
We can see this transition taking place in book . The opening arguments
assert the unity of being; the final part of the book focuses on the unity of an
essence. As noted earlier, Aristotles ostensible arguments for the principle of
non-contradiction in the last chapters of actually show that each being must
have the unity of essence, for only if each being is one and the same in this
way can it be said not to be its contradictory or to be qualified by contradictory
predicates; that is, only a being that is one can be subject to the principle of
non-contradiction. The unity of being is a generic unity; the unity of essence
is one in formula (cf. 4, 1006a31b4). All beings share in the generic unity
of being, but this unity does not suffice to make a being subject to the PNC
and, thereby, knowable as a being. Since the PNC applies to all beings, every
being has an essence and is, thereby, one in formula. But beings differ from
each other because their formulae differ. So each being is one in the same way,
that is, as a being; and each is also one in formula insofar as it has its own
distinct formula and nature. This existence of distinct natures makes possible particular sciences that are distinct from metaphysics. More importantly
for us, these distinct natures are also treated in metaphysics but through an
inquiry that is quite different from the inquiry into being that we have seen
in the opening books. The transition from being to ousia, that is, from is it?
15. A view held by Martin, An Introduction to General Metaphysics, and Brthlein, Die
Transcendalienlehre,198204.
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to what is it? that is initiated in book , is completed in the central books of

the Metaphysics. It is a transition from treating all essences together as beings
to treating them as distinct kinds.
Understanding the opening books requires knowing where we are in the
inquiry. My proposal is that these books carry out the first stage of metaphysical inquiry. Aristotles answer to the question of how metaphysics knows all
beings and also their causes is not the same at this stage of the inquiry as it
will be at subsequent stages. The science of being qua being that Aristotle
announces at the beginning of book seeks to know all beings together
through the nature in respect of which they are beings, and this nature is
their cause. The being and unity of all beings depend on their all being alike
insofar as each has some nature, even though the natures they have differ.
Later, in the central books, Aristotle will consider what these distinct natures
are and trace them to a primary nature; and in the final stage of inquiry, he
arrives at a still higher cause. It is not that he changes his mind, but that the
process of inquiry is multi-leveled. We have now completed the first level, and
are consequently able to see what has emerged as well as why the next step,
the inquiry into what being is, is necessary.
Importantly, in book the nature in respect of which beings are beings,
that is, the nature of being qua being, is shown to be ousia or essence. Hence,
ousia and essence are internal characters of every being. Most readers picture
the relation of being and its primary instance in as two concentric circles,
the outer representing being, the inner representing the categorial genus of
ousia, analogous to the way that healthy is more inclusive than health because
it includes what is related to health. It is assumed that ousia is the categorial
genus and that what makes being wider in scope is its containing the other
categorial genera besides ousia.16 Thus, on this view, the subject of metaphysics
is being qua being, that is, the categorial genus of ousia, and the other categories
are its per se attributes. Aristotle does not exclude this picture, and it aptly
expresses the relation between ousia and the other categories in the central
books and the relation between the unmoved movers and all other beings in
Metaphysics . However, our concern here is what the proshen doctrine means
16. This approach goes back at least to Thomas Aquinas treatment of pros hen as
analogy of attribution, Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of
Aristotle,IV. L.1:C 534-42; V. L.8: C 879. Aquinas realizes that a pros hen extends
beyond a single genus and thereby takes its unity as a kind of one by analogy.
Since, though, Aristotle applies what is one by analogy to a four-term analogy,
whereas a pros hen depends on an analogy between three terms, Aquinas identifies
the pros hen as a distinct type of analogy. Applied to being, the doctrine implies
that other categories are analogous in so far as they are ascribed to ousia and that
being always refers to what is numerically one, categorial ousia.
497
in the inquiry in Metaphysics . There is no evidence that being stands to ousia in

this way in book , and this book makes good sense only if this is not what the
doctrine asserts. Again, Aristotle introduces the doctrine without explaining
it, just as he introduces being qua being as a placeholder. My contention is
that it acquires an interpretation and that that interpretation differs in different parts of the Metaphysics. These variations in meaning are deliberate and
compatible, but the possibility of the science of all beings that Metaphysics
aims to justify requires a distinct and distinctive interpretation.
Consider, again, Aristotles description of what is related to ousia in 2,
1003b610:
For some are said to be beings because they are ousiai, others because they
are affections of ousiai, and others because they are ways into ousiai, or
corruptions, or privations, or qualities, or productive or generative of ousiai
or of what is said in relation to ousiai, or else denials of any of these or of
ousiai. Therefore, even what is not we say to be what is not (1003b610).
Earlier (5.3), I proposed that this passage can be understood as referring to the
different ways that being is said and as implicitly suggesting the priority
of ousia in each, a point that Aristotle argues in the central books. Narrowly
understood, the ousia that is prior in all the ways of being is the intersection
of what is prior in each way, and in the central books we find this to be the
form or essence of ousia, that is, the form of an instance of the category of ousia.
However, broadly understood, the ousia that is prior in all ways of being is the
conjunction of the ousiai that are prior in each way of being. In its immediate
context, this passage is referring to the latter; it is speaking more generally of
anything with an ousia, or essence, in any category. After working through
and discussing , we can see that these relations to ousia are also discussed
in : Only qualities and affections could be categories; they are discussed in
14 and 21, respectively, but their scope there extends beyond the categorial
genera with the same names. Privations and denials are types of opposites
(10, also 22); they are present in every category. The extremes of corruptions and generations (10, 1018a2022) belong to all four categories in which
there is motion (cf. Physics A 7, 1) as do, likely, the ways into ousiai that
Aristotle mentions among the prior and posterior in motion (1018b1921).
Finally, the false is discussed in 29, and it too extends to multiple categories. The point is that what book describes are, mostly, not other categories
that are supposed to be related to the category of ousia. They are, rather, the
attributes of being qua being that Aristotle describes in arguments 46 in
2, the attributes that are led back to a one and many that somehow span
all the categories. Again, they are not attributes in the strict sense in which
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two-footed is an attribute of man but in the much broader sense in which a

things privation or contrary is its attribute because it is defined through the
thing. In this broad sense of attribute, every being can have attributes, and
ousia indicates the nature of any being.
This conclusion does not rely on a convoluted reading of 2s description of
the ways that things are related to ousia (1003b610). On the contrary, no reader
who was not influenced by the literature would suppose that this passage is
speaking about other categories relation to the category of ousia. Aristotles
emphasis here is on the way that an ousia comes to be and ceases to be, and
the opposites figure prominently. Instances of the genus of ousia do not come
from their oppositesthey do not even have opposites. It is more properly
natures that exist in other categoriessuch as white/black, hot/cold, and so
forththat come to be destroyed into opposites.
Moreover, on the concentric circle interpretation, the science that studies
being qua being and its per se attributes would be the science of the categorial genus of ousia and the other categorial genera. Instances of these other
categories do, of course, belong to ousiai, but they are accidents rather than
per se attributes. The supposition that other categories are per se attributes of
ousia is disconcerting, and they are not what Aristotle mentions as attributes
in 2 or, for the most part, explores in . Again, Aristotle does discuss quality, quantity, and relation in , but he makes a point of telling us that each of
these extends well beyond categorial bounds: among qualities, he mentions the
differentia (14, 1020a33b1), and species in all categories are defined through
their differentiae; quantity includes anything that is countable (1020a89),
including instances of any genus (cf. N 1, 1087b331088a14); and among relatives Aristotle mentions same, like, and equal (15, 1021a1014) and defines
them as, respectively, one in ousia, one in quality, and one in numbernone
of which seems confined to the category of relative. It is difficult to assimilate
these discussions to the ways Aristotle usually characterizes quality, quantity,
and relation, but it seems clear that Aristotle is not talking about categorial
genera that belong to the categorial genus of ousia.
Again, Aristotle famously declares that whatever is is also one because
being and one make clear the same nature (1003b2225). The nature that
they make clear is not confined to the categorial genus of ousia. This nature
is the essence of each being, and it is in respect of this essence that each being
could be called an ousia. If every being is an ousia in this broad sense, then
the per se attributes of ousia are not the accidental categories but characters
of some sort that can belong to any being, characters that, like complete and
privation, occur in multiple categories and are led back to one and many. These
characters are, in some very broad sense, negations of essence. Every being
has an essence, but each sensible being must acquire and eventually lose its
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essence, and the processes of loss and acquisition depend on the essence. The
deprivation or negation of this essence is still a being and, thereby, counts as an
essence. Thus, white has an essence, but so does its privation, black. Insofar as
black is a privation of white, it is a per se attribute of white; but it is also a being
in its own right. In general, what belongs to a being per se is not something
that is other than beingthere is nothing besides beingbut, rather, what
depends on the beings essence. We could gather this from Aristotles examples
of per se attributes of being: same, contrariety, being, one, and so forth. These
characters do not belong exclusively to one genus. They do not fall under one
category because they do not have a particular categorial nature of their own.
Yet, all of them depend upon and are understood through essences. Aristotle
must be thinking about some such negations when he adds that even what is
not also, in some way, is. To the extent that a contrary negates an essence, it is
not; but in negating the essence, the contrary is also defined through it and,
therefore, is. If this is right, then when he speaks in 2 of what is related to
ousia, what Aristotle has in mind are the per se attributes of all beings. They
are also, somehow, instances of the genus of being and known as such by
the science that knows being, but they are also known by metaphysics as per
se attributes of beings. This dual role of some beings would be impossible
in another science, but it is necessary for a science whose scope includes
everything. Since, then, all beings have essences, what is related to them are
also beings, though they are treated as attributes in respect of what they are
related to. In the science of being qua being, the circles of subject matter and
per se attributes are not concentric but coextensive.
On the other hand, it is just because every being does have a nature or
an essence that it is hard to understand why Aristotle emphasizes other
beings relations to ousia. Is not the extended sense of ousia sufficient to
include all beings in one science? Why call being a pros hen genus if every
being is an ousia?
The immediate aim of the pros hen doctrine of being is to explain how there
can be a science of all the causes if all do not belong to each being. Aristotles
examples in book B, mathematicals, lack final and efficient causes. The usual
supposition is that mathematicals do not need to have all the causes because
they get included in metaphysics as per se attributes of the categorial genus
of ousia. The obvious problem is that not all ousiai have all the causes either;
eternal ousiai also lack efficient and material causes. As I understand Aristotles
solution to this aporia, the subject genus of the science is ousia in the broadest
sense, and this science is pros hen because not all causes belong to each ousia.
That is, it is the causes, or some of them, that are related to some ousiai. That
is why Aristotle emphasizes the way into ousia, the privation of ousia, and
generally what is connected with motion as among what is related to ousia
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(1003b610), and it is also why he claims that the philosopher must seek the
principles and causes of ousiai (1003b1719). Again, the subject of metaphysics
is ousia in the broadest sense, and because ousia is a pros hen genus, not every
cause must belong to every ousia.
Further, this understanding of the way that takes being to be pros hen
explains how the totality of beings can have per se attributes, and it makes
metaphysics more closely resemble other pros hen sciences. The doctor, by virtue of his knowledge of the primary instance of healthy, that is, health, is able
to advise on the signs of health and the health of a climate. But on the usual,
concentric circle reading of the pros hen character of being, the metaphysician
knows ousia but neither what is related to it nor how any of the relations stand.
On the view advanced here, metaphysics has per se attributes that it knows,
just as medicine does.
Even if each being has an essence, the essences of ousiai in the narrow
categorial sense are prior to the essences of other beings. Aristotle makes
this point in Z 1 when he claims that these essences are prior because other
essences are known through them and that these other essences contain the
essences of (categorial) ousiai (1028a31b2). There, it is clear that the essences
from categorial genera other than that of ousia are related to essences from
this categorial genus. So the categorial genus of ousia is clearly primary. I have
been arguing here that this is not the priority to which Aristotle refers when
he says in 1 that there is a science of being qua being and what belongs to it
per se. If this is right, the concentric circle view of the relation between being
and ousia applies to the central books but not to the opening books where
being and ousia extend equally.
It is, perhaps, a nice confirmation of my analysis of book that Aristotle
does not explicitly say that ousia is one in the opening chapter of book Z. He
had shown in that every being is one in formula and has an essence. In Z 1,
he claims, as I said, that the essences of ousiai are prior because they are constituents of the essences of the others. That makes them, by the criterion of 6
(2.2.1), more one in formula than other beings. Further, Z 1 characterizes ousia
as (1028a1112). The latter phrase indicates that an ousia
is one in number.17 So Aristotle effectively distinguishes the higher degree of
unity that belongs to ousia from the unity possessed by other categorial essences
(cf. 4, 1030a28b12). The former phrase, (what is), signals Aristotles
interest in the what is it question and his identification of the answer to this
question with the determination of ousia (1028a1618; 1028b24). The chapter
ends by asserting the necessity of investigating the what is it? of this sort
17. See Cat. 3b10 and Halper, One and Many in Aristotles Metaphysics: The Central
Books,3334.
501
of being, that is, the what is it? of the what is. This is a clear statement of
a rather different sort of reflexivity at work in the central books.
There is one crucial question that remains for us: how can we understand
the ousiai that are the hen of beings pros hen in book ? What does metaphysics grasp when it grasps them? We have seen that introduces the doctrine
without explaining what ousia is, and that we learn from the discussion of the
PNC that every being is an ousia and essence of some sort. The character that
is common to all beings is simply having an essence or a nature. In respect
of this nature, each being is and is one. But this common character has no
categorial content because there is no one essence that all beings have. Still, as
minimal as it is, this character suffices to render being a kind of quasi-genus
and, hence, the subject of metaphysics. If this is right, then that every being
has an essence is true only in a way. More properly, essence is not a common
character; and to study it more deeply, it is necessary to understand essences
in their own right. As I have said, Aristotle takes up the study of essences
in the central books, and what happens there presupposes the results of
and continues its inquiry into the unity of being. So although book treats
essence and ousia as if they were all the same, it also makes possible their
further treatment in the central books, as I said. In arguing for essences, book
is arguing that individual beings have natures whose characters are more
refined and determinate than mere being. Yet, unlike being, these individual
natures are not common. Hence, by showing that there are distinct essences,
book provides the foundation for the particular sciences that treat them.
The book does not tell us what these sciences are, nor does it demonstrate the
ousiai they treat.
Still, in the process of giving metaphysics its subject matter, the arguments
of book show that ousiai exist and thereby provide the subject matters for
the particular sciences. It is just this sense of providing the subject matters of
particular sciences that I think Aristotle has in mind in E 1 when he contrasts
metaphysics with the particular sciences. A particular science marks off some
particular being, some part of the subject matter of metaphysics, and demonstrates its attributes (1025b712). Particular sciences can take these beingsor
ousiaifrom sensation or by hypothesis because their existence or being has
already been examined in metaphysics.
If all this is right, then there is an ontology in the Metaphysics but of a radically different sort than what has been supposed. Aristotelian ontology is not a
treatment of what is most universal and most empty of content, namely, being
and one. Still less is it a treatment of transcendentals, nor a science that studies all beings but no particular being. Instead, ontology is just the treatment
of being that Aristotle presents in Metaphysics and . Ontology shows that
being is and is one because each being has some sort of essential nature. As
502
an ousia in this extended sense, being has per se attributes that are known by
metaphysics. As such, ontology, the science of being qua being, has many of the
marks of other Aristotelian sciences. However, it is also a branch of metaphysics
because as we explore more deeply the causes of being qua being, we are led to
the inquiry into essences that we find in the central books, the second stage of
Aristotles Metaphysics. In inquiring into all beings, ontology seeks first to show
their unity. But, as we saw, the unity of being depends upon particular beings
that are one in a stronger sense. Thus, ontology leads to further metaphysical
inquiry into more primary beings, ousia in a narrower sense.
This difference in perspective between the inquiry into being and the
inquiry into ousia has a parallel in a discipline that Aristotle often mentions
to illustrate metaphysics, mathematics. In Metaphysics he characterizes the
subject matter of mathematics in two ways that are analogues of the two
characterizations of the subject of metaphysics. Since mathematics cuts off a
part of being (1003a2425), mathematical entities are (a) beings. But Aristotle
also claims that the parts of philosophy, among which is mathematics, each
treat (b) an ousia (1004a24). A bit later, he speaks of number qua number and
its proper attributes (1004b1013). Insofar as number qua number has its own
attributes, it must be some sort of ousia. Likewise, later in the Metaphysics, he
describes the mathematician as studying an ousia like man, not qua man but
qua solid or qua indivisible (see M 3, esp. 1078a2330; K 3, 1061a28b3). As we
saw, he means to say that mathematics studies (a) the quantitative attributes
of ousiai even though mathematicians treat these attributes as if they were
separate and, therefore, as (b) ousiai.
In short, he speaks of mathematicals as ousiai with their own attributes, but
also as attributes of ousiai. Although both ways of speaking of mathematicals
are legitimate, Aristotle argues that they are not truly ousiai but attributes;
otherwise they would be principles. From the perspective of metaphysics, it is
a mistake to think that mathematicals are ousiai. Nevertheless, the mathematician typically treats his subjects as if they were ousiai. From the perspective
of metaphysics, separate quantity, such as number qua number, is a fiction,
but it is harmless as long as it is confined to the discipline, for nothing false
results from this assumption (M 3, 1078a1421; cf. An. Pr. A 41, 49b3437 and
An. Po. A 10, 76b3977a3). Yet, it is only the mathematicians perspective that
allows him to demonstrate mathematical theorems.
In Aristotle refers to number qua number to illustrate being qua being:
both are taken to be ousiai that underlie attributes (1004b817). Can we, then,
infer that being qua being is also a harmless fiction? Yes, from the most proper
metaphysical perspective: being is no more of an ousia than number, though
both can be treated as if they were ousiaithat is, as separatewithout causing
falsehood. Book s approach to metaphysics resembles the mathematicians
503
approach to mathematics: treats being as if it were a distinct entityindeed,

it seeks to show that being is by showing that it is oneand it seeks to demonstrate beings proper attributes. As progresses, Aristotle makes a case for each
beings having an essence and, thereby, its being an ousia of some sort. Thus, he
shows, in effect, that every being can be treated as an ousia. On the other hand,
the subject matter of metaphysics can be more accurately described in a way
that parallels the metaphysicians description of the subject matter of mathematics: the essences of some beings depend on and include the essences of others,
namely, essences in the category of ousia. This latter is the approach to being
that Aristotle takes in the central books. As Aristotle examines being in book
, he comes to see the structures that give it unity and, thus, its dependence
upon the narrower sense of ousia, the category of ousia. Just as mathematicals
are most properly attributes of instances of the category of ousia, so too beings
are most properly dependent on instances of this category. Again, the science
that studies being qua being ultimately gives way to the science of ousia.
Still, the science that treats being qua being achieves results that are at least
as important as the science of metaphysics. It teaches us that all beings have
essences, that they have per se attributes in respect of their essences, and that
the PNC applies to them. These results continue to stand even when metaphysical inquiry has progressed to a new stage; indeed, they make the next
stage possible, as I said.
My aim in this book has been to delimit and explore this science of being
qua being. Even though it is the first stage of metaphysical inquiry, it has an
integrity and content of its own. It is the failure to appreciate the character
of this science of being qua being that has made much of Metaphysics -
a mystery to scholars, and, conversely, we have seen here how nicely the
Metaphysics opening books fit together once we grasp the character of this
science. And grasping the character of the science has been possible because
the problem of the one and many that I have taken as my theme is more than
just an interesting issue: it is Aristotles own problem. Thinking through the
problem in the text makes seemingly disparate passages fall nicely into place.
Also necessary for grasping the science has been the idea of an inquiry that
develops sequentially by stages. It is this latter that opens the possibility that
being qua being might not have the same meaning in as it does later.
What, then, is being qua being in ? We saw that Aristotle uses it as a
placeholder to signify the nature of being, whatever that nature should be.
As I have noted repeatedly in this section, Aristotle declares that whatever is
is also one because being and one make clear the same nature (1003b2225).
The nature that they make clear, the essence that is and is one, is not confined
to the categorial genus of ousia; every being has a nature or essence. In its most
straightforward meaning, being qua being signifies the nature of being,
504
whatever that would turn out to be. The first step in the identification of this
nature is its characterization as nature. Again, what makes something a being
is its nature or essence, and to be is to have a nature. Thus, each being is at
once a nature and a being.
This dual characterization of the subject matter of metaphysics also suggests
a way to think about the question whether the Metaphysics is an ontology, a
theology, or both. Metaphysics - make general claims about all beings and
their per se attributes. They aim to show the being and unity of being and
one. This reflexivity marks off a stage of metaphysics that could be called an
ontology, even if it does not conform to the usual pictures of this science.
However, a chief lesson of this stage is that ousia is primary, and this leads to
the next stage of inquiry. The central books inquire into the nature of being,
the what is it? of being. But the nature of being, that is, the ousia of being,
is just ousia or nature, as we have seen. Hence, the inquiry into the nature of
being is an inquiry into the nature of ousia, and this latter is tantamount to
the ousia of ousia. The nature that is primary in all schemata of being is form
or actuality, but since, among sensibles, these exist only with matter, they
require the existence of a form or actuality that can exist independently and
serve, somehow, as a cause of the composite. Thus, although the first stage of
metaphysical inquiry is a kind of ontology, pursued to its completion, ontology
becomes theology. Whereas the two ways of conceiving the subject matter of
mathematicsas ousiai and as attributes of ousiaireflect an irreconcilable
divergence between mathematics and metaphysics, the two conceptions of
the subject matter of metaphysics reflect two stages of a single metaphysical
inquiry. Pursuing the analogue of the mathematicians perspective, that is,
an investigation of being qua being, we arrive at the more proper metaphysical perspective, the science of ousia in which being is a mere attribute. The
persistent claims that ontology and theology are irreconcilable stem from a
failure to grasp the peculiar character of metaphysics.
How, though, could two distinct and seemingly incompatible perspectives
be so closely connected? Aristotle insists that to know is to know the cause.
What could it mean to know the cause of all beings? As I said, ordinarily the
cause would be the generic nature, but the cause of being is the one being to
which all other beings are related, ousia. So endeavoring to know all beings
leads us to knowledge of ousia. But ousia, here, is simply essence. It is one
only in its being an essence, but divergent in its content or nature. Since we
cannot come to know being without grasping that content, and since exploring this content leads us back to ousia in the narrower categorial sense, one
task of Metaphysics A- is to show why an inquiry into being must lead us to
the study of the category of ousia. In seeking the unity of being, Aristotle has
found another, stronger unity, that of ousia, upon which it depends, and this,
505
in turn, depends on a still higher cause, the category of ousia.

In sum, whatever is a being is also one, but both being and one belong to
something by virtue of the things nature, its ousia. This nature has a stronger
unity than the unity that is associated with being; this unity is the hen of the
pros hen. The problem of how being can be one is resolved by finding this
other unity. Thus, Aristotle addresses a problem about unity, and he resolves
it by finding a more refined unity. Ultimately, this unity also depends on a
still higher unity. However, books A- show that something else is more fundamental than unity. Something is and is one because of its nature. Aristotles
examination of the unity of being shows why it is necessary to posit the existence of this nature, for without it, all would merely be and be one, and there
would be nothing further to know. In other words, metaphysics cannot stop
with a grasp of the unity and being of being. It requires a narrower unity, the
unity of essence. Each being must have an essence.
It is often said that, for Aristotle, to be is to be something. As I have argued
here, that each being has an essence ought to be taken as more than just a
slogan. It is supported by the doctrines that Aristotle introduces to resolve the
metaphysical aporiai. Moreover, it is just this notion of being that enables what
begins as an ontology to become an investigation of ousia. Thus, again, the
opening books of the Metaphysics begin an inquiry into being that culminates
in the later inquiry into ousia and first movers. As we grasp being, we recognize the need for a narrower treatment of ousia: ontology pursued becomes
the science of ousia and, ultimately, theology. To be is, thus, not merely to be
something but to be something that exists as such without anything else. We
can understand this development only by considering the manifestations of
the one/many problem through which Aristotle effects it.
It is evident that the doctrine of being I am ascribing to Aristotle is not easy.
In contrast, the notion that being qua being is simply being or, alternatively,
that it is ousia are both relatively simple. We might expect an argument for an
interpretation to show its relative simplicity. I have been stressing the complexity of being and metaphysics. Moreover, although there is scarcely any
text in Aristotles corpus that has received more attention than the opening
of Metaphysics , the interpretation argued here has not been seriously considered in the extant literature. Finally, the interpretation proposed here requires
acknowledging that being qua being is just barely intelligible, in contrast with
other interpretations that take it to be not only Aristotles highest principle
but identical in meaning throughout the Metaphysics.
All this should work against my interpretation. Yet, I suggest that it
counts in my favor, especially the last point. It has generally been assumed
that Aristotles account of being will be transparently intelligible. But why
should it be? Being is at the lowest rung of realityit is just barely the object
506
of science and, as such, it should be barely intelligible. My understanding of

being qua being makes clear the limited intelligibility of being and allows for
the possibility of attributes of the sort Aristotle describes in 2 and book .
Being is the object of a science that seeks to know that being has an essence,
and the essence that it has enables it to be known. Only, this is an essence that
is not a real essence, but something that is more like a similarity or analogy.
The type of intelligibility I am ascribing to being is not adequate, but for this
very reason, when we try to grasp it more carefully, as we must, we are led
to higher causes.
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INDEX
A
Accident. See Being, said in many
ways, accidental/essential
Accurate,
as characteristic of knowledge,
xvi, 164, 165, 16667, 346,
348n, 355
arguments for form, 18486,
18695
demonstrations, 284
Ackrill, J. L., 34, 54, 56, 138, 276, 486
Actuality, xxvii, 8, 13, 17, 30, 45, 54,
756, 7980, 94, 96, 151, 205,
269, 282, 299, 320, 329, 388,
408, 504
Addition, 62, 101102, 106, 11214,
16667, 463
Alexander of Aphrodisias, 32, 111,
115, 12123, 138, 18485,
18788, 190, 198, 222, 231,
24950, 26465, 296, 326,
32930, 33234, 34142,
35556, 421, 46364
Allen, R. E., 407
Analogy, xxvii, 13, 18, 13640, 142,
14445, 148, 150, 244,
302303, 46568, 496, 506
Anaxagoras, 20, 169, 171, 179,
44748, 456
Anderson, J. F., 145
Annas, J., 218
Anscombe, G. E. M., 407, 425
Aporia, xxvii, 911, 1516, 4850,
202203, 20515, 270
aporetic method, 11, 18, 211, 262,
282, 28586, 286, 289, 303,
306307, 332, 472, 485
one, 22021, 22729, 303307,
34344
two, 221, 229
three, 221, 230, 33233, 35253
four, 22021, 23334, 318, 353
five, 23538
six, 70, 24548
seven, 248, 252, 25556

eight, 25658
nine, 25758
ten, 25860
eleven, 26162, 26566
twelve, 263, 266
thirteen, 26364, 267
fourteen, 26769
fifteen, 269
Apostle, H. G., 113, 120, 201, 326, 330,
346, 354
Architectonic sciences, xi, 15, 1415,
38, 195, 220, 221, 278
Artifacts, 85, 978, 123, 193
Asclepius, 308
Attributes
accidental, 64, 73, 86, 11314,
148, 456
essential, 16, 59, 6465, 68, 90, 221,
22932, 234, 30912, 38586,
46366, 480, 491
one science of all, 9, 23334, 383,
39293, 48081
Aubenque, P., 21112, 308, 314
B
Bck, A., xli, 335, 408
Balme, D. M., 108
Barnes, J., 57, 196, 275, 281, 290, 297,
317, 409, 412, 473
Brthlein, K., 47, 319, 326, 329,
33334, 33839, 381, 495
Becoming, 45, 445, 448, 45152
Being
attributes of, 12, 16, 294, 30810,
31819, 37279, 39294,
46369, 48184
cause(s) of, 162, 19698, 199,
201202, 491
inquiry into. See Inquiry, in
metaphysics, into being and
ousia
not a proper genus, 226, 254, 265,
397, 464
515
516
Index
and one, 68, 2629, 4648, 83,

125, 12829, 14345, 15152,
33339, 36768, 401405,
47980, 49295
and ousia, 10, 1920, 23, 131, 304
305, 30810, 31921, 32326,
34146, 48081, 496505
as principle of metaphysics, 245,
24952, 262, 265
as pros hen, 51, 62, 125, 297303,
305307, 479, 49192
qua being. See Being qua being
said in many ways, xii, 17, 464
accidental/essential, 7375,
8082, 9192, 292
categorial, 7678
potential/actual, 5475, 78
true/false, 7882, 19698
as subject matter of metaphysics,
3, 8, 12829, 169, 23738,
295296, 395401, 47173,
49091
as a transcendental, 335
Being qua being, xxviii, 29097,
30726, 502506
attributes of, 1213, 30910, 315,
37279, 46365, 48283,
49798
as method of study, 31012
as ousia, 10, 20, 29091, 301302,
30826, 37374, 383, 49697
as placeholder, xxxv, xxvii, 10, 290,
301302, 314, 323, 39798,
45960
and principles of demonstration,
39094
as progressively determined,
32526, 397401
Bell, I. H., 488
Benardete, S., 15556, 166
Body, as ousia, 9698, 263, 266
Brentano, F. C., 74, 320
Brinkmann, K., 163
Brown, L., 73
Brumbaugh, R., 215
Burnyeat, M., 36, 39
C
Categories, 5960, 63, 68, 72, 300, 339,
382, 467
Category (categorial genus), xxvii,
xxviii, 13, 17, 21, 5758, 67, 69,
7179, 144, 14849, 30910,
31921, 324, 390, 496499
and one, 12022, 33940, 402
of ousia. See Ousia, as a category
Causes, four Aristotelian, xv, xxviii,
xxxii, 14, 17, 153, 16566, 169,
17879, 201, 220, 227, 234,
239, 293, 304305, 479
efficient, 66, 68, 161, 16970, 172,
173174, 176, 17879, 193, 194,
199, 201, 221, 22728, 258,
304, 366, 474, 499
final, 6667, 15758, 161, 163, 179,
193, 194, 195, 199, 200, 220,
222, 22728, 304, 474, 499
formal, 66, 17479, 19394, 199,
22022, 322
material, 16973, 174, 175, 176, 177,
178, 179, 193, 194, 198, 199,
202, 220, 258, 474, 499
number of, xv, 2123, 16979,
18788, 189, 191, 198, 232,
26566, 351
Common opinions, xxviii, 4950,
21213, 27577, 28183,
28687, 47377
Composites, 2, 11214
accidental, 17, 73, 8081, 85, 869,
902, 109, 12123, 437
material/natural, 13, 17, 85
essential, 90, 109
Continuity, xxxi, 14041
of motion. See Motion, as one by
continuity
and one, 9299
unity of composites, 12529
and same, 146
Convertibility of being and one, 47,
33340, 396, 404, 417, 431,
49495
Cherniss, H. F., 467, 18485, 187, 189
Cleary, J. J., 215, 26263, 266
Index
Code, A., 406, 412, 424, 48889

Cohen, S. M., 406
Colle, G., 229
Contraries. See Opposites, contraries
Cook Wilson, J., 25354
Cornford, F. M., 30, 407
Crivelli, P., 79, 82
D
Dancy, R. M., xli, 73, 427, 436, 486
Definition, xxix, 6070
belongs to what is one, 16
and ousia, 55
proper vs. secondary, 5960
Differentia, xxix, xxxvi
and contrariety, 13435, 36062,
368, 38283
no differentiae of being or one,
249, 397
proper differentia, xxxii
relation to essence, 77, 366, 498
ultimate differentia, xxxiiv, 17,
110, 322
and unity, 14143, 25051
Degnan, M. J., 407, 439
Dcarie, V., 314
Descartes, R., 37, 164, 289, 489
Demonstration, xxix, 42, 16869, 273
elenchic, xxix, 40910, 424, 487
in metaphysics, 213, 28085,
296297, 306, 406n, 484,
48690
of ousiai. See Ousia, demonstration
of
principles of, xix, xxxii, 9, 11, 16,
21, 206, 212, 220, 221, 223,
22930, 271, 391, 398, 406,
458, 463, 479
scientific, xxxiii, 5960, 225, 232,
245, 480
Developmentalism, xi, xl, 3234,
3536, 37, 39, 4142, 207208,
210, 211, 216, 272, 277, 308,
342, 381n, 478, 494
Dyad, xv, 2, 13, 21, 17678
Diogenes Laertius, 35, 463
Dring, I., 33, 209
517
E
Elders, L., 129, 130
Eleatics, 11
all is one, xvi, 20, 53, 129, 216, 217,
219, 270, 274
one, as the principle, 11, 17072
Elements, xxix, 6971, 100, 102, 242,
26769, 29395, 318, 46568
doctrine of. See Plato, elements
doctrine
intelligible, 194, 21718, 24548,
252, 25960
material, 104, 140, 179, 24548
Empedocles, 20, 169, 171, 174, 179,
25860, 449
Essence. See also Form and Ousia
belongs to every being, 45253
cause of being, xxxviii
cause of ousia, 30, 131
necessary for the PNC, 42325,
43032
as ousia and actuality, 89, 13
primary in sensible beings,
131, 320
F
Fine, G., 184
Form. See also Essence and Ousia
arguments for the existence of,
43240
cause of being, xxxviii
cause of unity in an ousia, 17, 18,
30, 131
as ousia and actuality, 89, 13
primary in sensible beings, 17,
131, 320
transcendental, 36
Fowler, H. W., 567
Frede, D., 225
Frede, M., 32, 39
G
Generation and destruction, 17073,
179, 334, 382
Genus
kath hen (proper) genus, xxix,
298302, 356, 398, 479, 492
518
Index
as matter, 108109, 134, 233, 25455

pros hen genus, xxxii, 10, 62,
297307, 313, 31821, 32325,
387, 398, 41718, 437, 460, 479,
49192, 499500
and one, 4647, 119, 125, 14445,
339, 36364, 370, 402, 484,
49495, 505
subject matter of one science, xvii,
6, 24, 25, 134, 190, 227, 228,
229, 234, 236, 237, 239, 271,
272, 274, 286, 300, 303, 305,
306, 326, 328, 337, 345, 356,
393n, 464, 475, 484, 485
Gilson, E., 44, 46
Good, 21, 22, 25, 27, 13738, 200, 227,
254, 303n, 443, 456
and science, 34, 165
H
Hadot, P., 40
Halper, E. C., xxxvi, 18, 24, 45, 55, 77,
79, 80, 82, 85, 94, 10810, 120,
131, 141, 168, 197, 201, 257,
311, 320, 361, 403404, 406,
468, 493, 500
Heath, T. L., 166
Heraclitus, 169, 414, 418, 420, 45152,
454
Hintikka, J., 225, 236, 268, 414, 416,
44546
I
Identity of indiscernibles, xiv, 14849
Inquiry
Greek modes of, 7, 4041
in metaphysics, xi, xxxviixxxix,
19, 2628, 29, 3031, 4142,
176, 195, 202, 239, 321, 323,
324, 405, 415, 432, 439, 459,
48687, 501
details of metaphysical inquiry,
18, 72, 118, 169, 356, 490
into being and ousia, xviii, 10, 13,
20, 28, 47, 56n, 72, 110, 196,
290, 294n, 296, 31718, 325
into causes, 176, 202, 239, 293
into one, 151, 152
as progressive delimitation,
xxxiii, xxxviii, 8, 20, 164, 325
26, 352, 374, 397401, 45960,
490, 494, 495497, 501505
scientific, xxx, xxxiii, xxxiv, 8,
2425, 49, 296297, 306, 485
Intermediates
between contraries, xxviii, 456
between highest and lowest
genera, 250
mathematicals between forms and
sensibles, xvii, xviii, 11, 16,
23538, 263, 445
Irwin, T. H., 34, 557, 59, 61, 163, 208,
21213, 277, 281, 297, 406,
42324, 48788
J
Jaeger, W. W., 33, 356, 45,
106, 110, 132, 146, 175, 182,
19596, 207209, 214, 264,
326, 334, 344, 359, 463
K
Kahn, C. H., 73
Kant, I., 36, 152, 163, 290, 471
Kirwan, C.,
on , 13, 290, 292, 296, 30812,
31517, 32627, 33336, 338,
341, 355, 363, 38081, 389,
393, 472
on , 8081, 83, 88, 90, 935,
103104, 107, 111, 113, 116,
11920, 12526, 132, 136, 138,
140, 464
on demonstrating all attributes,
393
on the PEM, 456
on the PNC, 40910, 412, 418, 422,
424, 42729, 436, 438, 44142,
449, 455, 488
on qua locutions, 31012, 318
on a two-place interpretation of
one, 107, 116
on the unity of composites, 88, 90,
935
Klein, J., 133
Knowledge (=science)
accurate. See Accurate
Index
standard structure, 16061, 272,

295297, 487
theoretical, 196, 208n, 34143, 353
contrasted with practical,
productive, 282, 285
Krmer, H. J., 177
Kung, J., 58, 73
L
Lear, J., 290, 311, 410, 423, 439
Leibniz, G. W., 148, 149
Logic,
based on ontology, xxii, 112,
149, 321, 392, 405, 41213,
416420, 442, 44554, 459
contemporary, 14749, 408, 427n,
45859
principles of. See PNC and PEM
Loux, M., 47
Lukasiewicz, J., 409
M
Madigan, A., xli, 205, 207, 216, 258,
265, 268, 355
Mansion, A., 290, 308, 314
Mansion, S., 209, 211, 354
Martin, G., 47, 495
Mathematicals, 5, 228, 234, 263, 266
67, 304, 312, 315, 325, 342,
348, 35051, 372, 37678, 383,
385, 468, 48285, 502503
Matter, 94
as candidate for ousia, 17
and efficient cause, 17374
and form, 13, 17, 115, 119, 125
and the genus. See Genus, as
matter
intelligible matter, 132
material cause, 16973, 194, 198,
201
not generated, 256
and Platonic form, 17678
as potentiality, 448, 453
proximate matter, 85, 105, 115
and unity, 128, 130, 13638, 142,
14550, 17072, 173, 243, 246
Matthews, G., 5758, 61, 8889,
14748
Mavrodes, G., 411
519
Merlan, P., 23, 43, 45, 47, 253, 308,

325, 342, 381, 399, 414, 416,
44547
Metaphysics
demonstrations in, 296
existence of, xvi, xvii, xviii, xix,
2, 3, 7, 8, 9, 1416, 25, 26, 38,
51, 58, 153, 164, 169, 201202,
205, 210n, 213, 221, 224, 233,
23538, 269, 277, 289, 291,
292, 293, 297, 299, 321, 324,
326, 340, 374, 381, 393n, 395,
401, 418, 471, 472, 47778,
48485, 492
method of, 4850. See also Saving
the Phenomena
and one/many problem. See One/
Many Problem
intrinsic connection, 19
as ontology or theology, xxii, xxiii,
10, 1213, 5152, 29091, 348,
399n, 47173, 501502
and particular sciences, xii, 25,
24, 25, 38, 51, 103, 16263,
217n, 22829, 233, 234, 271,
27879, 316n, 32223, 33032,
342, 346, 351, 353, 378, 385
86, 387, 39192, 393n, 394,
400, 461, 477, 479, 48081,
483, 484, 493, 495, 501
possibility of, xv, xvii, xl, 1213,
1516, 160, 223, 22627,
22829, 23841, 28990, 293,
353, 405, 471, 47273, 477,
478, 497
reflexivity of, xix, xxii, xxxvii, 3,
16869, 325, 400401, 472,
477, 493, 500501, 504506
stages of, xix, xxxi, xxxvii, xxxviii,
8, 14, 16, 19, 20, 42, 169,
21516, 309, 313n, 31415,
321, 324, 325, 388, 398, 399,
496, 502504
Middle term, xxx, 41, 16162, 197,
296297, 306, 476, 485
Moraux, P., 35, 463
Motion, xxx, 22, 200201. See also
Generation and destruction
520
Index
as cause, 170, 17274, 17879, 193,

227, 466
as one by continuity, 9299, 12729,
141, 218
as plurality, 17
and the PNC, 447, 452
N
Natorp, P., 205, 214, 308
Neoplatonism, 2, 4344, 46, 353
Nicholas of Cusa, 410
Nicomachean Ethics, 3, 5, 49, 210, 254,
281, 473
Non-being, 75, 320, 379, 38485,
41720, 431, 447
Nussbaum, M. C., 49, 55, 88, 208, 210,
27576, 28182, 424, 47375,
488
O
One
ambiguity of meaning, 19, 21617,
21820
different from being, 6, 19, 2930,
4547, 151
essence of one, xiv, xxix, xxxi, 13,
18, 3031, 69, 111, 13135,
14244, 145, 147, 14951, 317,
340, 379, 46566
grammatically possible
interpretations, 3031
inquiry into, 18, 3031
one- and two-place usages, 8386,
106107
one itself, xiv, xxxi, 14, 24, 26, 27,
28, 29, 30, 44, 105, 143, 167,
172, 176, 177, 180, 183, 194,
195, 198, 202, 203, 217, 218,
232, 233, 241, 248, 26162,
26566, 267, 270, 274, 368, 379
one qua one, 372, 379, 387, 401
said in many ways, 19, 28, 83131
accidental one, 8692, 11923
continuity, 9299, 11925, 12931
one in substrate, 11925
sensible substrate, 99105
generic substrate, 105110
one in formula, 110118, 12931,
140
whole, 12529, 131

primary and secondary, 11825
One/Many Problem, xi, xii, xv, xxxi,
xxxv, xxxix, xl, 114, 2031,
25, 2930, 477, 503
in the aporiai, 15, 19, 28, 50, 202,
205, 206, 21314, 279, 490
and the causes, 179, 205206
forms of, 2324
intrinsic to metaphysics, 17, 19,
2527, 169, 280, 478
and the literature, 4348
as method of metaphysics, 714,
1819, 2425, 50, 158, 16264,
179, 216, 351, 461, 505
obstacles to considering the
problem, 2729, 45
and opposites, 365, 369, 380,
38485, 38788, 402, 483
and other issues, 4852
and the PNC, 426
Opposites, xxxi, 292, 35471, 37475,
37879, 38687, 401, 497499
contraries, 22, 623, 645, 106,
13435, 178, 22728, 35770,
37988, 402, 48284, 492
denials, 187, 31920, 35456, 497
possesion/privation, 64, 127,
13435, 31920, 35465, 369,
37981, 386, 497499
relatives, 339, 36266, 369
Ousia
in accidental composites, xiii,
xxviii, 73, 8692
and accidents, xxvii, 36566, 437,
450, 467, 500
as actuality, 17, 78
and analogy, 18, 13738, 144
as being and one, 335341,
404, 498
and being qua being, xxxvii, 10,
29091, 301302, 30826
body, see Body, as ousia
as a category, xxviii, xxx, xxxi,
xxxii, xxxv, xxxvii, 89, 10, 12,
13, 17, 21, 74, 75, 7678, 182n,
320, 376, 382, 398, 399, 496n
prior to other categories, 17, 83,
321, 324, 500
Index
prior to its constituents, 83

as a cause, 13, 67, 298, 305, 322
composed of contraries, 37985,
388, 402
demonstration of, 23335, 37678,
385, 386, 388, 48184
as an essence or nature, 16, 55, 423
of being, 331, 333, 400, 43032,
450, 458
explained, 459460, 501
of some particular being, 10,
16, 17, 132, 146, 357, 372, 376,
37778, 38586, 44950, 467
of every particular being, xxxvi,
10, 323, 340, 36566, 36869,
37379, 393, 397, 420, 450,
45253, 466, 468, 491
the essence or nature of ousia,
xxxvi, 105, 382, 500501
formula of (=definition), 55,
63, 65
indivisible in formula, xiii,
112118, 128, 140, 247
the existence of, 418, 419, 43032,
437, 440, 444, 484, 487,
501, 505
unchanging ousia, 41314,
445, 451
hierarchy (succession) of ousiai,
33133, 34453, 388
identity of (same), 147, 149
number of, xvii, 21, 22, 23, 23538,
32930, 48485
as the object of metaphysics
in general, xxxvxxxvi, 6, 39, 45,
206, 216
as determined through
metaphysics, xxiii, xxxiii,
xxxviii, 10, 17, 19, 20, 323,
399400, 405, 43032, 460,
493496, 502505
and one/many, 14, 19, 23, 24, 25,
2728, 29
per se attributes of, xix, xxvii,
xxviii, xxxvi, 220, 221,
23334, 35390
as a placeholder, xviii, xxxvii,
11920, 298, 314, 324, 460
and Platos forms, 18195, 218n, 255
521
primary, 6, 9, 13, 14, 18, 30, 131,

26170, 346, 351, 399, 481
in the Categories, xxxiii, 63
in the Metaphysics central
books, 8082
unmoved movers as, 13, 14, 30,
342n, 402n
and principles of demonstration,
xix, 206, 39095, 405, 459, 479
the PNC, xx, xxi, 12, 212n, 407n,
41518, 42325, 43032,
432440, 444, 44547,
44849, 45051, 452
in a pros hen, xviii, xxviii, xxxvii, 10,
51, 62, 144, 298, 319n, 356, 364,
397, 398, 402, 479, 496498
said in many ways, 466
sensible/non-sensible ousiai, 22,
39, 239
sensible nature, xxx, xxxvi,
9699, 298, 466
and scientific discourse, 435, 438,
440, 442, 452, 48889
in subject matter of metaphysics,
9, 21, 206, 220, 221, 22526,
23038, 240, 271, 292, 294n,
3045, 34153, 48081
as subject or substrate, xxxi, xxxiii,
59, 110, 174, 353, 367, 371, 372,
376, 433
as a this, xxxii, 59, 244, 500
treated as ousia, xxviii, xxxi, xxxvi,
12, 160n, 234, 312, 315,
32224, 344, 372, 383, 503
and truth, 79
unity of, 6, 17, 18, 2324, 27, 46,
11925, 131, 137
Owen, G. E. L., 58, 61, 88, 138,
18788, 285, 473, 475
Logic and Metaphysics, 33, 36,
46, 5455, 20810
Tithenai ta Phainomena, 4950,
20810, 27577, 28184, 473
Owens, J., xii, 6, 3132, 43, 45, 6066,
153, 159, 16566, 207, 209,
21516, 227, 231, 242, 244,
249, 289, 29194, 302, 308
309, 313, 316, 32829, 338,
341, 343, 346, 348, 351, 399
522
Index
P
Parmenides, 129, 170, 17273, 400
Pasquale, G., 416
Patzig, G., 196, 290, 308
Pinter, H. 425
Physics (Aristotles work), 28, 53, 66,
85, 9294, 96, 12930, 21617,
299, 303, 382, 400, 420, 429,
448, 497
Physics (the theoretical science), 217,
224, 226, 303, 310, 34243,
348, 400
Plato
Academy (Platonism), xxxvii, 5,
2425, 33, 4344, 21011, 248,
389, 478
dialogues
Charmides, 481
Euthydemus, 4
Gorgias, 4, 278
Ion, 4, 278
Meno, 230
Parmenides, 20, 24, 30, 46, 49, 81,
184, 240, 368, 407, 444
Phaedo, 21, 45, 175, 275, 420
Philebus, 20, 45, 157, 163, 166
Republic, 4, 21, 41012
Sophist, 20, 21, 45, 275, 407, 428
Symposium, 221, 275
Theaetetus, 24849, 453
Timaeus, 193, 411, 455
elements doctrine (one/dyad), 2,
13, 21, 4344, 45, 17677, 191,
198, 232, 26566, 342, 382
forms
criticism of, 18096, 21720,
23536, 259
as first principles, 26165, 279
as objects of knowledge, 16667,
27375, 279
and the PNC, 407, 416, 440, 445
unity of, 4, 9, 4548, 17478,
21720, 24243, 27375
Plotinus, 2, 44, 351
Politis, V., 213, 286, 416
Popper, K., 83
Potentiality, xxxi
and actuality, 5456, 7475, 78, 81,
85, 26769
and motion, 199

and matter. See Matter, as
potentiality
and the PNC, 44749
Priest, G., 425
Primary
and one, 13, 18, 23, 47, 55, 11925,
246, 337, 36370
primary instances, xxxi, xxxii,
1214, 70, 304, 315, 390,
46768, 484
Principle of excluded middle (PEM),
xxxii, 290, 406, 421, 441,
45557
Principle of non-contradiction
(PNC), xxxii, 9, 1112, 16,
5152, 371, 378, 39394,
48889
applies to what is one, 42025
arguments (ostensibly) for, 42544
extension to all beings, 406407,
41220, 44547, 484, 495, 503
arguments against universal
extension, 44752
formulations of, 40712
as a principle of knowledge,
45759
and relatives, 45455
as a way of arguing for essences,
290, 45254, 45961, 480,
495, 501
Pros hen. See also Being, as pros hen
and Genus, pros hen
as an analogy, 14445, 3023,
49697
Protagoras, 44951, 452, 454
Pythagoreans, 24, 31, 170, 17475,
17980, 265, 317, 381
R
Reale, G., 153, 205, 216, 266, 308, 343,
346, 354, 393, 46465
Rist, J., 34
Rohatyn, D., 439
Rorty, R., 108
Ross, W. D., 93, 101, 115, 119, 130, 132,
153, 295, 330, 393, 442, 452,
455, 467
Index
on aporiai, 49n, 205, 218, 222, 223,

227, 229, 233, 242, 247, 249,
250, 251, 253, 254, 259, 264,
265, 283, 354, 393
being as a genus, 397
being qua being, 308
on book , 153, 201
categorial genera, 363
causes, 175
convertibility of one and being,
333, 334, 335, 336, 338
criticism of forms, 182, 184, 186,
187, 188
genus is univocal, 300
on non-contradiction, 421, 442,
452, 455
on one as transcategorial analogy,
137, 140, 146
one is pros hen, 47
one science knows one genus,
326, 328
on opposites, 336, 354, 35556, 361
parts of philosophy, 341, 344,
346, 348
on per se attributes, 74, 295, 317, 397
on the unity of the summum
genus, 24951, 25354
ways being is said, 7475, 79
ways one is said, 86, 93, 99, 101,
110, 111, 113, 115, 119, 12021,
131, 132, 137, 140, 146
S
Sachs, J., xli, 41, 113, 182, 348, 355,
433, 455
Said in many ways (pollachos
legomena), 5360, 6066
Same
attribute of being, 1213, 70, 328,
367, 37173, 37879, 381, 391,
394, 463, 482, 483, 499
contrary to other, 361
said in many ways, xiii, xiv, 74,
8384, 86, 8889, 9091,
14549
in substrate, 102104, 334
in form or formula, 184, 189, 427
in genus, 25354
in generic substrate, 106108
523
and the PNC, xx, xxi, xxxii,

407411, 41418, 420, 42324,
434, 438, 440, 444, 44950,
451, 480
as relation (identity of ousia), 147,
149, 33940, 374, 468, 498
as apparent pros hen, 36365
sameness, 84, 123, 146, 147, 14849,
259, 339, 371
series of, 136
as species of one, 33637, 358, 359,
362, 366, 369, 378, 401
unity of a plurality, 259
Save the phenomena, xviii, xxii,
xxxiixxxiii, 4950, 21014,
281, 28184, 28586, 47378
Schwegler, A., 11920, 132, 308, 341,
351, 354, 421
Scientific questions (is it? and, what
is it?), xxxv, 8, 13, 17, 70, 74,
76, 405, 493496, 500, 504
Separation
criterion of ousia, 10, 98, 26162,
314, 321
and unity, 79, 180, 256
Sextus Empiricus, 40
Shields, C., 56, 305, 31819
Simple beings, xxx, 103, 134n, 165,
166, 167, 186, 466
bodies, 104, 105, 109, 123, 131
as what is most true, 79, 82
as one, 246, 256
Smyth, H. W., 336
Sorabji, R. R. K., 71, 196, 409
Species, xxxiii
as objects of science, 15861,
23132, 32733, 36062,
48081
and one, 13, 106108, 11117,
13640, 24144, 24958,
26364, 33641, 36869,
404, 492
and ousia, 63, 18283, 23132,
32931, 33233, 34950,
48081
Substrate, xxxiii. See also Ousia, as
subject or substrate
generic, 105110, 24648, 266, 273,
404, 423
524
Index
material, 99105, 12529, 202,

24648, 382, 38687
and one, 91, 99105, 105110, 115,
12125, 12529, 140, 17173,
24648, 357
as ousia, 17, 59, 73, 76, 119, 149, 302,
314, 373, 376, 437, 466
Stokes, M. C., 46, 93, 98, 130
Syrianus, 44, 329
Szlezk, T. A., 177
T
Thom, P., 418
Theology, as a science, 10, 20, 29293,
47172, 504505
Thomas Aquinas, xxvii, 32, 9495,
97, 116, 121, 14445, 15455,
185, 196, 198, 201, 266, 296,
302303, 330, 333, 33536,
338, 381, 428, 463, 465, 496
Three-component analysis, 19, 606,
6871, 7778, 99, 110, 14243,
390
See also Said in many ways
Treptow, E., 228
transcendentals, doctrine of, xxxvii,
47, 148, 319, 33335, 399, 404,
49495, 501
truth
and knowledge, 224, 276, 285, 435
and metaphysical method, xxiii,
xxviii, 11, 37, 40, 50, 21113,
275n, 27677, 282, 28485,
286, 289, 353, 392, 395396,
476, 485, 48690
as objective, xvi, xxxiv, 1415,
7879, 19698, 199, 200, 201,
202, 444
standard of truth, xxviii, 3940,
42, 27677, 38182, 390
truth conditions, 334n, 414n, 419,
420, 424, 442, 451
and unity, 82
as a way of being, xii, 13, 17, 7475,
7879, 80, 8182, 151, 320,
329, 408n
U
Universals, xxxiv
and causes, 16265
as generic principles, 24856, 303
as object of knowledge, 2526, 134,
156, 15862, 165, 16769, 225
and one, 8788, 10510, 19091,
24344, 403404
as an element, 246, 46566
in formula, 11518, 12324, 130,
21718
as a principle, 25657, 269
and ousia, 18, 131, 24344, 26162,
466
distinguished from form,
18283, 19091, 195
and the PNC, 413, 41720
Unmoved mover, xxxiv, 304, 322, 348
primacy of. See Ousia, primary,
unmoved movers
unity of, 1314, 27, 145, 415
Upton, T. V., 412
V
Vlastos, G., 487
W
Ward, J. K., 319
Wedin, M. V., 407
White, N. P., 83, 146, 148
Wians, W. R., 453
Wiggins, D., 147
Witt, C., 79
Wittgenstein, L., 29, 277, 425, 473
Woods, M. J., 257
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One and Many in Aristotles Metaphysics

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One and Many in

Las Vegas | Zurich | Athens

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

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Chapter 1 The Problem and the Method

Chapter 2 The Ways of Being One

Chapter 3 The Principles of Metaphysics: Books A and

3.2 The Number of Causes: A 37

Chapter 4 Book B: The Aporiai

Chapter 5 Book : The Unity of Being

5.9.3 Arguments 68: Contradiction in Speech

Chapter 6 Book Again

Chapter 7 Metaphysics: Universal or Special

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Analytical Table of Contents

ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS

1.4 The Literature

ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS

ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS

2.2.6 Aristotles Summary (1016b611)

ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS

3 Chapter 3 The Principles of Metaphysics: Books A and

ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS

ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS

4.2 The Unity of the Subject Matter

ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS

4.5.2 The Assumption about Unity

ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS

ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS

5.7 Being and One

ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS

ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS

5.9.7 7: Principle of the Excluded Middle

ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS

7.2 The Subject Matter of Metaphysics

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Division. The Platonic mode of arriving at definition is to

being said of something else. (3) In Z 6 Aristotle describes something as primary

A differentia uniquely associated with the genus it

this ( ) This is often the distinguishing mark of ousia, but Aristotle

that we find in the opening books of the Metaphysics, especially in and , is

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The Problem and the Method

The Problem and the Method

formulations, but it is enough for now to understand it as the question whether

The Problem and the Method

The degree of unity is critical. Insofar as metaphysics treats all things, at

The Problem and the Method

The Problem and the Method

narrowing the scope of what is known and relegating it to a single science.

The Problem and the Method

The Problem and the Method

be to the contemporary scene where subjects are rarely demarcated precisely

The Problem and the Method

by itself, can often be read in multiple ways. Although I cannot decisively

The Problem and the Method

The Problem and the Method

doctrines is the doctrine of being. Aristotle sets it out piecemeal in book by

The Problem and the Method

All this must appear highly implausible. I am not aware of another