Play up! Play up! And play the game!

I'm reading again some of Sidgwick's Methods of Ethics. It's mostly very sensible stuff, clear, interesting, and often right. He's very good, in the main, on pleasure and desire and is refreshingly happy to talk about the complexity of the psychological factors involved. (I reckon this is in part because he was a careful reader of the Philebus and of Aristotle as well as the various more recent people he mentions, but let's leave that aside for now.)

But there are obstacles too. He's long-winded and sometimes boring. And also occasionally lets slip something jarringly pompous and Victorian. Like this (from Book 1 chap. 4 sec. 2):

Take, for example, the case of any game which involves---as most games do---a contest for victory. No ordinary player before entering on such a contest, has any desire for victory in it: indeed he often finds it difficult to imagine himself deriving gratification from such victory, before he has actually engaged in the competition. What he deliberately, before the game begins, desires is not victory, but the pleasant excitement of the struggle for it; only for the full development of this pleasure a transient desire to win the game is generally indispensable. This desire, which does not exist at first, is stimulated to considerable intensity by the competition itself: and in proportion as it is thus stimulated both the mere contest becomes more pleasurable, and the victory, which was originally indifferent, comes to afford a keen enjoyment.

This comes just before the section on the paradox of hedonism. HS does allow that one might conceive a 'transient' desire to win, just because some such desire is a necessary condition of engaging properly in the game. But for HS it is the pleasant excitement of the competition that matters most and any desire for victory must be instrumental to it. Well, this just seems to me to be false: I can imagine all kinds of sportsmen and women whose principal desire is to win the game, who would relish a game that was not a struggle at all. Sure, they don't want to be bored. But a desire for the pleasant excitement of competition whatever the result and a desire for victory that is stimulated only as a result of the excitement in engaging in the contest? I don't find this very plausible. I wonder if the professionalisation of sport and competition is what makes me less sure than HS about this. Is that a shame?

Socrates and intellectual pain

At Philebus 51e–52b, in response to Socrates’ idea that the pleasure of coming to know something is an example of pure pleasure, Protarchus argues that it can be painful to know just in the case that you come to know that you do not know something that you need to know. (A newly known unknown, in Rumsfeldian terms; unknown unknowns are not painful, fortunately.) And coming to know that known unknown will in that case not be a pure pleasure since it is preceded by a painful ignorance.

In those terms, is the Socrates of, say, the Apology in intellectual pain? I was asked this recently and I still am unsure what to say. Well, either he is or he isn’t, I suppose… I don’t think we’re told that Socrates is living a terribly pleasant life but I’m not sure either we are shown him living a painful life, wracked with terrible intellectual distress at the realisation of his ignorance. Perhaps he is an odd case (here as in other matters) and different dialogues will tell different stories about Socrates’ own intellectual achievements. Sometimes he seems rather full of opinions, but on other occasions he stresses that he has no idea at all about what he and his interlocutor are discussing. And when it comes to questions of the affective aspect of intellectual progress, again perhaps he is an unusual case. When the Theaetetus talks about the ‘birth-pangs’ of philosophical discussion (a motif also in the Republic 490a–b) we might remember that Socrates thinks of himself as barren (Tht. 149b). He can bring on these pains in others and, if possible, relieve them; but does not either have to endure them himself or have the capacity to feel the pleasure of them being dissipated.

REF and Classics

HEFCE has just published a consultation document on the new REF (son-of-RAE). You can find it here; comments from HEIs must be in by 16 December. Most important for my interests is that the general aim to trim the number of assessment panels has led to the proposal to merge Classics and Ancient History into 'History, Classics and Archaeology'. The consultation document, p. 47, highlights this proposal:

d. History, Classics and Archaeology – we regard Classics and Archaeology as too small in terms of volume to merit discrete UOAs within the new structure. However, although they would appear to be reasonably cognate with History, this grouping might risk becoming too diverse. Alternative options include separating this into two units (History; and Archaeology and Classics) or combining Classics and/or Archaeology with other UOAs.

Hmmm. Well, I can't easily think of any other UOA ('Unit of assessment') Classics might fit into. But History? And is Classics etc. too small? The same document shows (p.49) that 415 FTEs ('Full-time equivalents') were submitted in Classics, Ancient History, Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies in the 2008 RAE while still proposing a UOA for the REF, 'Area Studies' (inc. e.g. Middle Eastern and African Studies, Asian Studies) with a total of only 571 FTEs based on the 2008 numbers. In lots of ways, Classics is as much an 'Area Study' as it is a historical discipline. But I see the problem: a case might well be made for including what I do in the Philosophy, Theology, and Religious Studies UOA. On the other hand, I think this is a proposal we would do well to avoid.

Trinity?

Oh. Dear. ITV2 tonight starts a new series, Trinity. You can watch a trailer here.

The website says:

Set in the gothic, oak panelled halls of residence and lecture theatres of the fictional Bridgeford University, Trinity College, the ITV2 eight part series brings a whole new meaning to the phrase "first term nerves".

For over 900 years, Trinity has been an elite playground solely for the über rich and powerful. However, for the first time in its long and illustrious history, Trinity is about to throw open its doors to the (sic) hoi polloi!

As new girl Charlotte and her fellow students settle in, they begin to realise that all is not what it seems at Trinity.

Beneath the glamorous veneer of wealth and privilege lurks a much darker world, ruled by the mysterious Dandelion Club: a select group of over-privileged students used to getting their own way.

Trinity boasts a host of gorgeous (sic), up-and-coming new talent alongside great established names, including Charles Dance, Claire Skinner & Christian Cooke.

I'm not sure whether I can stomach it, to be honest, having seen a few minutes. It's Cruel Intentions meets Porterhouse Blue meets some half-formed idea about UK higher education being more open to people from different social classes. It's real ITV2 stuff. I hope both Trinity colleges have good lawyers on the case already.

Pleasure, learning, and knowing

Back to ancient philosophy. I am still wrestling with an old problem. In Republic IX Socrates claims that the life of the philosopher is the most pleasant and justifies that be an appeal to the fact that only the philosopher will experience the pleasures associated with knowing perfect intelligible and unchanging objects. His soul, itself something immortal and stable, will be properly filled by its proper objects. The problem is that Socrates seems to think throughout that pleasure is a kinēsis (583e9–10) and contrasts the intellectual pleasures of knowing with the bodily pleasures of, say, eating in such a way that it seems most likely that he has in mind the pleasures associated with the process of satisfying a lack, whether bodily or intellectual.

So, once the philosopher has come to know the Forms, will he be able ever again to experience the great pleasures associated with that process of coming-to-know? What will the hedonic life of a fully-fledged philosopher be like? There are various things we can say in answer to this, but I am still not sure that Socrates has much to say on the question whether there are pleasures associated with the possession of knowledge or the active use of knowledge in the way Aristotle can.

I’m working my way again through some interesting comments in Delcomminette’s book on the Philebus. He points to the following brief passage in Republic IX but I’m not sure how precisely it ought to be understood. Here it is:

τὸν δὲ φιλόσοφον, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ, τί οἰώμεθα τὰς ἄλλας ἡδονὰς νομίζειν πρὸς τὴν τοῦ εἰδέναι τἀληθὲς ὅπῃ ἔχει καὶ ἐν τοιούτῳ τινὶ ἀεὶ εἶναι μανθάνοντα; (581d9–e1)

This is part of the argument that shows (tries to show) that in a debate between advocates of three kinds of life – money-loving, victory-loving, and wisdom-loving – although the three will each propose that their own pleasures are the best, we should side with the judgement of the philosophos. Here we are asked to imagine how the philosopher would compare the others’ pleasures with his own. But what are he own pleasures?

Delcomminette comments that here Socrates refers to the ‘plaisir de connaître le vrai tel qu’il est et d’être toujours dans un tel état en apprenant’ (2006, 477). This is in support of his general view that the philosopher is in a state of ‘apprentissage permanent’ since in an important sense knowing (connaître, εἰδέναι) and learning (apprendre, μανθάνειν) are identical. He takes this to refer to the pleasures the philosopher can enjoy even once he has acquired understanding of the Good and so on. It’s not clear to me just how the sentence should be rendered and understood. Griffith’s translation has ‘…the pleasure of knowing where the truth lies and always enjoying some similar sort of pleasure while he is learning it’, which sounds much more like the pleasure concerned is found in the process of learning and that there is no reference here to any pleasure to be had in the possession of knowledge. Grube’s translation has ‘…[pleasure] of knowing where the truth lies and always being in some such pleasant condition while learning’.

It would certainly be interesting if we had an assertion that there is pleasure to be had in knowing, in the sense of the possession rather than the acquisition of knowledge, whether or not we should think of knowing as a state of constant learning. (And, if it is not thus understood, we would have to wonder whether we can reconcile the notion of the pleasure of knowing with the idea of pleasure as a change involving the satisfaction of a lack.) But I suppose I have two difficulties:

1. Does the qualification ὅπῃ ἔχει form part of the object of τοῦ εἰδέναι? In other words, are we told that the philosopher knows ‘where the truth lies’ (which seems compatible with the philosopher not yet knowing the truth) or does the philosopher ‘know the truth’ and it is Socrates who then comments in his own voice: ὅπῃ ἔχει, since he does not himself know?

2. What is the precise meaning of the second part of the conjunction? Are we told that the philosopher is always in such a state when he learns (but can be in other states when he is doing other things than learning) or that as a learner he is always in that sate (that is, he is in a constant state of learning)?

Help?

This space for hire

British TV will now allow product placement in its programming. Shame. The BBC, at least, will remain resolutely ad-free but the days of the shelves of Corrie's cabin being filled by made-up magazines are soon to be no more. Will Newton and Ridley lose control of the Rover's?

I suppose this was coming. And, in one sense, it will make drama shows less odd. It was perfectly reasonable for Mad Men, for example, to include stories of real companies hiring the firm to plug their new products and, much as I love Don and Betty, I did not feel a great urge to go out and buy Heineken because of its prominence in one of the episodes. It would have been a little odd for a show to set out to evoike a certain period, make reference to known events, be styled scrupulously for the time, but not refer to Kodak, American Airlines and the like.

So, I'm happy to join in. From now on I am open to bids for product placement within my lectures and anything I publish. It's pretty easy for me to drop a few brand names into any philosophical examples I use. I could, for example, refer to a particular rail operator when introducing trolley problems... Well, perhaps not that one. But I could wonder about the quale of drinking a particular Scottish-produced fizzy drink (the one made from girders...). Reasonable rates will apply, of course.

Harbingers of doom

Two unmistakable signs today of the imminent beginning of term. First, the names are going up on the room lists at the bottom of each staircase. Some sensible colleges still have them painted on in a nice calligraphic style. (See pictured here the board for Clare's L staircase where I had room L2 in 1992-3; it was very nice but very cold.) Here at Corpus we have moved to the printing of sticky labels. Still, the college will soon be populated again and that is probably a good thing; it seems a bit lifeless during the vacation.

Second, the Cambridge Pocket Diary for 2009-10 has arrived. This is very important because it tells you at a glance such essential information as when the Lent term 'divides' (13 Feb 2010, by the way) and when the Philological Society will be meeting. But... This year it has changed colour, from a nice friendly maroon to a bold black. It's probably something to do with the 800th anniversary thing but it is a change, nevertheless, and therefore probably something bad. (These diaries have been going for some time and are often themselves important relics. See pictured here Wittgenstein's diary showing some important appointments for Lent term 1930 taken from the pages at the Wittgenstein archive). Still, I shall spend some of the afternoon transferring all the bits and pieces I have written in the back of my old diary and filling up the appointments already made for the new term.

In other news, it is now possible (hooray!) to read the story of Betrand Russell's early life and philosophical career in comic book form. (See the Amazon link below.) Thrill as 'through love and hate, peace and war', Bertie 'persists in the dogged mission that threatens to claim both his career and his happiness, finally driving him to the brink of insanity' (as the blurb puts it). Holy set-theory-paradox, Batman! Kapoow!

Screensaver

It's still the school hols so I've not had much brainpower to spare recently. But while I think of something to say here are some good blogs for you to look at:

There I fixed it

The "Blog" of "Unnecessary" Quotation Marks

Whatsyourst8us?

Normal service will resume soon.

Interview with Maria Michela Sassi

I'm reading and enjoying (despite reading it in part in order to write a review) Sassi's new book, Gli inizi della filosofia: in Grecia (Bollati Boringhieri). I've also just found an interesting interview discussing the book with her by Simona Maggiorelli here. (The interview was, I think, published in Left-avvenimenti, 24 July 2009.)

Offprint: Aristotle on Speusippus on Eudoxus on pleasure

Not sure how many people will be interested, but I've just got a pdf offprint of my essay in Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy 36, 2009: 'Aristotle on Speusippus on Eudoxus on pleasure'. You can download it here.

New Professor Layton Game

Not sure I can wait and put it on my Xmas list...

Danny's Dad

A friend is Chief Executive of the Fatherhood Institute, a UK think-tank devoted to issues of fatherhood and parenting. They have been looking at representations of fathers, particularly in popular dramas, and how they might project or reflect particular expectations and conceptions of the role. We ended up talking recently about the portrayals of fathers in the children's books we are both currently reading to our respective kids. A lot of the time, particularly in more modern picture books, there aren't many fathers shown at all.

Perhaps the authors are concerned to move beyond the kind of family you see in something like The tiger who came to tea, a kindly enough Dad who comes in from work and sorts out the problem of having no food left in the cupboard -- the tiger has eaten it; he has also drunk 'all Daddy's beer' -- by taking the family out for a meal. Or perhaps it is just a general aversion to portraying a mother + father + children kind of family in case it simply does not match the reality of much of their hoped-for readership.

Whatever the reason, we found it a bit tricky to come up with some great Dads. The best I could manage is Danny's Dad in Roald Dahl's Danny, the champion of the world: he's loving but still very paternal and blokey, even dangerously so. (The picture above shows Jeremy Irons and his sone Samuel who played Danny and his Dad in the film.) But even there there is the thought that he has acquired this role because of the loss of Danny's Mum. Can anyone help out with some others, preferably Dads who are still part of a more or less complete family unit but are not absent, uninterested, made to appear like idiots, too stern, or in some other way not very positively described?

Giggle

This, from Laurie Taylor's THE column, made me giggle. Sad, I know.

Three injured in 'pain' riot
-

Police cars raced to our campus on Monday in response to an emergency call from the convenor of this year's Annual Conference of Physicalist Philosophers.

According to witnesses, a fracas involving several dozen delegates broke out in the conference hall during a paper by Professor D.W. Grimping on the manner in which physicalism could readily dispose of the issue of qualia raised by such states as feeling pain and seeing red.

As Grimping neared his conclusion on the merits of supervenience physicalism, it seems that an organised cabal of unregistered phenomenologists rose to their feet and began to chant in unison: "phenomenal nature is not exhausted by functional role".

Delegates who moved to eject the troublemakers were met with blows from rolled-up copies of the conference abstracts and shouts of "this is what pain feels like" and "now you know what seeing red really means".

Speaking to The Poppletonian, the convener of the conference, Doctor L.G. Thinginess, expressed his regrets for the violence. "Most phenomenologists", he insisted, "are perfectly happy sitting around quietly examining their own structures of feeling. It's only a minority who seek to impose those feelings on others."

Our Corporate Director of Conference Hospitality, Janet Teesmade, confirmed that there would be an investigation into the incident and that careful consideration would be given to any future conference applications from philosophers. "Without taking sides in the present dispute, it does rather seem that these physicalists get under other people's skin by not getting under other people's skin."

Admissions timing

Next week the college will find out the exam results of all those students who have 'conditional offers' to come as undergraduates in October. Some will not quite get the required examination grades and will miss out. The college therefore has to make slightly more offers than it wants places filled. All in all, there is a degree of uncertainty about the process that might better be removed.

There is another problem with making admissions offers before examination grades: some people will do better than they or their school expected. They might not have applied to universities with generally higher conditional offer grades but then discover too late that they might have had a shot. In a new report, the Sutton Trust makes a compelling argument that maintained school students are more likely than independent school students to fall into this category and not have applied to a course they turn out to have good enough grades for. (You can read the full report here as a pdf file.)

Of course, things are a little more complicated, mostly because getting the right grades is not a sufficient condition for entry. But even so there is clearly an important point here based on confidence. You have to be in it to win it... Some pupils, perhaps encouraged by home and school, will take a punt on a course even if they are not sure that their grades will be good enough. Others will be discouraged. And on the present system you have to apply before you know your final grades.

The Sutton Trust suggests that the timetable might be altered so as to make applications based on final grades, that is to say that university applications might be delayed until after the final school exam results. I can imagine admissions tutors turning purple at the thought of trying to arrange everything between mid-August and early October even if they might know immediately how many people are going to turn up on day one. So perhaps the university term has to be delayed, say until January. Not sure about that: what can we find for all these eighteen-year-olds to do between August and January?

Maybe. The chairman of the Sutton Trust summarises the report as follows:

This research shows that even with the right grades in the right A-level subjects, thousands of state school students each year do not apply to the most academically selective degree courses. [1]

The timing issue is just one possibility. Another possibility, which the Sutton Trust also points out, is to tackle to confidence problem head on. Indeed, I like to think that much of the university's admissions and outreach programmes are designed to do just that. If in doubt and if the course offered is the course you want, then make the application. More people are getting 3 As than before [2], after all, and if the potential reward is big enough then give it a go. But this is also not just a problem for the universities to solve. Schools too ought to bear some of the burden of encouraging their students to apply to the best universities whatever the timetable for applications.

[1] The report, p. 21, gives the appropriately more nuanced: 'The evidence suggests that low application rates are a considerable factor in the relatively low entry into selective research universities from state maintained schools and from FE colleges. This research is not able to identify why application rates are lower: whether decisions not to apply to such institutions are due to poor advice and information or low aspirations, or whether they are simply the result of well-informed choices to apply elsewhere in the Higher Education sector. To determine this would require a study of young people’s decision making around choice of HE study.'

[2] Yes, I know Cambridge is going to move to a A*AA offer from next year. No one really knows what effect that will have so we'll have to just wait and see...

De mortuis nil nisi...?

News of a person's death is spread very rapidly via the internets, and some recent cases have set me thinking about the tributes that are often posted in response. I'm not so interested in obituaries as such, if what is meant by an obituary is a considered and rounded attempt to sum up a life and a person. Obituaries can often be somewhat critical of the subject, even if they are generally couched in respectful terms. I'm interested instead in the kind of tributes and posts that say how much the recently deceased person meant, what they stood for, how much they will be missed and so on. These are generally, I'm sure, very sincere. But that seems to me to make it even more of a shame that the person concerned is not there to hear the esteem in which they are held. So why don't we tell people while they are still alive the sort of attitudes we have towards them as revealed in these tributes? (Academics, in particular, tend to be rather guarded in their personal praise towards people and colleagues in particular who are still alive but genuine and warm in the tributes to people when they have died.)

I don't think it matters that these tributes might, given time, often be tempered with qualification or matched with criticism of the person. It still seems interesting to me that we do have these genuine positive estimations of people but tend not to voice them or not to feel licensed or motivated to voice them until faced with the news of that person's absence.

Perhaps we think it best to wait until the end of a life before summing up its achievements and impact. The Solonic thought has its merits but, as Aristotle would no doubt point out, seems rather over-careful.

Perhaps we think if we really did disclose these positive attitudes to the person concerned they would somehow be damaged by them, made conceited, made embarrassed or otherwise compromised. I suppose this is in part true also but if so it seems to me to be unfortunate too.

Perhaps we ourselves would be embarrassed to disclose these affections to the person concerned. It would be a kind of opening up analogous to the risk involved in declaring romantic affections or sexual desire for another.

Then again, these tributes are a kind of public and communal activity. Posting a reminiscence on a website or sharing a story at a memorial is a shared practice of reinforcing certain positive traits we might like to encourage and aspire to ourselves.

What would it be like if we did tell people these things while they are still around to appreciate the high esteem with which they are held? (There are cases that are comparable -- awards of one kind or another, perhaps the tributes that appear in academic Festschriften, for example. But these are often couched in a kind of formulaic language that perhaps make them safer. If you come across anything too gushing in such a volume it does jar a little.)

Welcome to the new age of patronage

You might have thought that twelve years into a Labour government we might have seen a degree of progressive social change. Yes and No. Social mobility is down, for example. This is something that it extremely bad news for universities, particularly ones which are committed simultaneously to admitting the very best and brightest students as undergraduates and also want to ensure a range and diversity of educational backgrounds for its intake. (By the way, the latter of these is something which the university wants to do anyway and it does not need government urging to take this seriously.  What it does need is a government intent on making sure that educational opportunities before 18 are such that students from various backgrounds have a fighting chance of making the necessary standards for admission.)

But now there is something new to make me shout at the telly. Channel 4 is not the most reliable of social indicators, I realise, but a new programme starting tonight, How the other half lives is perhaps the most depressing thing I have heard for some time.  An affluent middle-class family takes on a poor family and helps them out in a series of direct acts of beneficence.  What's wrong with that?  It's just like those scheme where you sponsor a child in the developing world, except now you get to drive up to their flat and see how very very grateful they are.  Aaaargh!  Wrong wrong wrong.  Who chose which family was going to be grateful and deserving enough?  What happened to the notion that poor people are entitled to state aid, free from prejudice and the contingency that it might be taken away on a whim if little Alexandra suddenly fancies horse-riding lessons instead?  The idea should be that certain people are entitled to aid and that other people are required to share some of their wealth to do so.  Making it personalised, while perhaps offering a veneer of direct effectiveness, wraps up what ought to be a matter of principle in a cloak of forelock-tugging and self-satisfied feelings of 'having done something important'.  Just take Christine and Charlie from episode one and tax them more, perhaps just a little bit.  They can keep their gardeners and so on.  They evidently have some money they do not need and are in some sense committed to social change so I don't see why they would mind.  Not much of a human interest documentary in that, I suppose, but I'd rather have blank screen for an hour than be offered this.

From the front line

Things I have learned so far from our holidays:

1. The Roman Baths in, er, Bath are great (I mean the museum is great) and have a nice audio guide with different stories for kids, adults, people who want to listen to Bill Bryson etc.  You can flip between them, which R appreciated when she got fed up with actors pretending to be Romans.

2. Wookey Hole is a lovely and exciting set of caves spoiled by an overpriced and very random not-any-theme-I-can- discern park attached.  It does have a ye olde halle of mirrors, though, which was quite fun.  The 'restaurant' was dire, however, and I get v. annoyed at the assumption in lots of these places in the UK that kids will eat only chips accompanied by some sort of reformed and fried 'meat' product.  We were told we couldn't have anything else in a child's portion.  Why not?

3. What counts as an 'A' road is geographically very variable.  Our sat nav is quite confused and counts as a junction things that are just very big bends in the road.  I swear there was a note of panic in her voice this afternoon.

4. S and I are ploughing through a box set of Mad Men season 1 in the evenings.  I'm loving it; not sure yet if I find Donald Draper totally evil or someone I really want to be.

O tempora!

This from today's Grauniad had me scratching my head for a bit. It's from an article (well, really one of those 'Point'/'Counterpoint' things[1] about toplessness (the young French are less keen on it than the older generation, apparently):

I'm just saying that it's a bit of a coincidence that a sartorial (or anti-sartorial) habit – a cultural more, if you will – makes them look sophisticated and gets them an all-over tan at the same time. It's all very convenient.

I couldn't construe the aside, '- a cultural more, if you will - ' because I was reading 'more' as the comparative (many, more , most...) It took me ages to work out that it is supposed to be the singular of 'mores' (as in 'o tempora! o mores!). Oh dear.

[1] Of which the best example ever is here.

Old

My birthday today, and I am very much now in the second half of my 30s. A good day, though, because first of all I was given a Lego Darth Vader TIE Advanced to make (as pictured). (I've also just discovered this site which has a pretty comprehensive list of all the Star Wars Lego sets released so far...)

Then I went to town with S to buy a new guitar. I've had a classical guitar since I took lessons when I was at school but I now also have a nice metal-stringed acoustic number/ I will have to build up a repertoire now of tunes with which to embarrass the kids.

Nothing ancient philosophical to report just yet but I have been toying with some of the testimonia on Xenophanes in Aristotle's Rhetoric, mostly on the topic of Xenophanes' notion of piety. I'm still working those ideas through for now but I might have something to post here soon, mostly requests for assistance as usual.

Pleasures

I've just found this interesting entry in the Suda (eta 97):

Ἐκ τῶν Πλωτίνου. Ἡδοναί, λύπαι, θάρρη, φόβοι, ἐπιθυμίαι,
ἀποστροφαὶ καὶ τὸ ἀλγεῖν, τίνος ἂν εἶεν; ἢ γὰρ ψυχῆς, ἢ χρωμένης
ψυχῆς σώματι ἢ τρίτου τινὸς ἐξ ἀμφοῖν. διχῶς δὲ καὶ τοῦτο. ἢ γὰρ
τὸ μῖγμα ἢ ἄλλο τι ἐκ τοῦ μίγματος. Ὅροι ἡδονῆς, αʹ λεία κίνησις,
βʹ ἢ γένεσις εἰς φύσιν αἰσθητή, γʹ ἢ ἄλογος διάχυσις, δʹ ἢ ἐνέργεια (5)
τῆς κατὰ φύσιν ἕξεως ἀνεμπόδιστος, εʹ ἢ τὸ παρακολουθοῦν τέλος
ταῖς τελευταίαις ἐνεργείαις. ἐκ τούτων τῶν ὅρων ἰσχύει τις ἀνα-
σκευάζειν καὶ κατασκευάζειν, ὅτι ἀγαθὸν ἡ ἡδονή, καὶ ὅτι μή. Ἡδονὴ
δέ ἐστι λεία κίνησις, πόνος δὲ τραχεῖα κίνησις. καὶ τὴν μὲν εὐδοκη-
τὴν πᾶσι ζῴοις, τὸν δὲ ἀποκρουστικόν. ἡδονὴν μέντοι τὴν τοῦ σώμα- (10)
τος, ἣν καὶ τέλος εἶναι, οὐ τὴν καταστηματικὴν ἡδονὴν τὴν ἐπ’
ἀναιρέσει ἀλγηδόνων καὶ οἷον ἀοχλησίαν τέλος εἶναι φασί. διαφέρει
δὲ τέλος εὐδαιμονίας. τέλος μὲν γὰρ εἶναι τὴν κατὰ μέρος ἡδονήν,
εὐδαιμονίαν δὲ τὸ ἐκ τῶν μερικῶν ἡδονῶν σύστημα, αἷς συναριθμοῦν-
ται καὶ αἱ παρῳχηκυῖαι καὶ αἱ μέλλουσαι. εἶναί τε τὴν μερικὴν (15)
ἡδονὴν δι’ αὑτὴν αἱρετήν, τὴν δὲ εὐδαιμονίαν οὐ δι’ αὑτήν, ἀλλὰ
διὰ τὰς κατὰ μέρος ἡδονάς. Ἡδονὴ δέ ἐστιν ἄλογος ἔπαρσις ἐφ’
αἱρετῷ δοκοῦντι ὑπάρχειν. ὑφ’ ἣν τάττεται κήλησις, ἐπιχαιρεκακία,
τέρψις, διάχυσις. κήλησις μὲν οὖν ἐστιν ἡδονὴ δι’ ὤτων κατακηλοῦσα,
ἐπιχαιρεκακία δὲ ἡδονὴ ἐπ’ ἀλλοτρίοις κακοῖς, τέρψις δὲ οἷον τρέψις, (20)
προτροπή τις ψυχῆς ἐπὶ τὸ ἀνειμένον• διάχυσις δὲ ἀνάλυσις ἀρετῆς.
ἔστι δὲ περὶ ἑκατέρου μέρους τῆς ἀντιφάσεως συλλογισμὸς ἔνδοξος.
ὅτι μὲν ἀγαθὸν ἡ ἡδονή, δείκνυσιν ὁ συλλογισμὸς οὗτος• οὗ πάντα
ἐφίεται, ἀγαθόν• τῆς ἡδονῆς δὲ πάντα ἐφίεται• ἡ ἡδονὴ ἄρα ἀγαθόν.
τὸ δὲ μὴ εἶναι αὐτὴν ἀγαθὸν ὁ τοιοῦτος• τὸ ἀγαθὸν ἀγαθοὺς ποιεῖ• (25)
ἡ ἡδονὴ ἀγαθοὺς οὐ ποιεῖ• οὐκ ἄρα ἡ ἡδονὴ ἀγαθόν. ἡ ἡδονὴ τοίνυν
ἐστὶ κίνησις λεία• ἐνέργεια δὲ ἀτελὴς πᾶσα κίνησις• μηδὲν δὲ ἀγαθὸν
ἀτελές• ἡ ἡδονὴ ἄρα οὐκ ἀγαθόν.

This is the translation from the Suda online:

From the writings of Plotinus. [Pleasures,] pains, recklessness, fears, aversions and to feel pain of mind, to what do they belong? For they belong either to the soul or the soul making use of the body or a third thing composed of both. This latter can be understood in two senses, too: for it is either a mixture or some other thing resulting from a mixture. Definitions of pleasure: 1, a smooth movement; or 2, a perceptible process of generation toward nature; or 3, an irrational relaxation; or 4, an unhindered activity of a natural condition; or 5, an end following the complete activities. Taking these definitions as a starting point, one is able to support and to overthrow the thesis that pleasure is a good and that it is not a good. Pleasure is a smooth movement but distress is a rough movement; and while the former is well-pleasing for every animal, the latter is repulsive. They say that the bodily pleasure that is also an end, is not a pleasure pertaining to a state, the one consisting of taking away of pains of mind, such as freedom from disturbance; they say that bodily pleasure is also an end. The end is different from happiness, for the end is particular pleasure but the structure consisting of particular pleasures with which we measure past and future pleasures, is happiness. And particular pleasure is worth choosing by itself, but happiness is not worth choosing by itself but by particular pleasures. Pleasure is an irrational elation over what seems to be worth choosing. Under it are arranged fascination, joy at another's misfortune, enjoyment, relaxation. Now fascination is a pleasure which fascinates one through one's hearing sense. Joy at another's misfortune is a pleasure at someone else's bad things; enjoyment, as a turning, is a certain conversion of the soul towards the dissolute; relaxation is the dissolving of virtue. There is an acknowledged syllogistic argument of the contradictory position concerning each part "of the thesis whether pleasure is a good or is not a good". The following syllogistic argument shows that pleasure is a good: the good is that at which all things aim. All things aim at pleasure. Therefore, pleasure is good. On the contrary, the argument that shows that pleasure is not a good is the following: the good makes men good. Pleasure does not make men good. Therefore, pleasure is not a good. In fact, pleasure is a smooth movement, but every movement is an incomplete activity. However, no good is incomplete. Consequently, pleasure is not a good.

It's clearly a 'bricolage' (is that the term?) of bits and pieces from various authors and the online Suda entry (here) does a good job of pointing to the various places in Plotinus, the Cyrenaic doxography of DL 2, and Aristotle where the various parts can be found in their original context.

What I think is very interesting, however, is this comment after the list of 'definitions' of pleasure:

ἐκ τούτων τῶν ὅρων ἰσχύει τις ἀνασκευάζειν καὶ κατασκευάζειν, ὅτι ἀγαθὸν ἡ ἡδονή, καὶ ὅτι μή.

Taking these definitions as a starting point, one is able to support and to overthrow the thesis that pleasure is a good and that it is not a good.

Perhaps someone out there who knows the Suda better might be able to help me out. It looks to me as if the list of 'definitions', all of which have some decent philosophical pedigree, is being offered as a kind of toolkit for dialectical tussles.

The closest I can find is Aristotle Topics 120a6-31 in which 'pleasure is good' or 'pleasure is not good' are taken as examples of theses which can be rejected because they have not been properly specified. It is not clear immediately whether what is meant is that 'all pleasures are good' or 'some pleasure is good' and so on. The point here, however, does not turn on what the nature of pleasure is taken to be (although in dialectical exchanges this might well turn out to be a relevant piece of information). Also interesting are the arguments in lines 22-26 of the Suda entry which demonstrate that it is possible to argue on both sides of this question.

Pro: What everything aims at is the good; everything aims at pleasure; so pleasure is the good.
Con: The good makes men good; pleasure does not make men good; so pleasure is not the good.

The 'Pro' argument is recognisably Eudoxan (see NE 10.2). The 'Con' argument can be found in Alexander's commentary on the Topics (In Top. 2.26-9 and elsewhere (pp.28, 77, 262).

The closest parallel of all is in Anon. Expos. Ars. Rhet. 743.7-16 Walz. But I don't know anything about this text or its supposed date. Can anyone help? Here it is:

ἔστι δὲ προβλήματα διαλεκτι-
κὰ καὶ ὧν εἰσιν ἐναντίοι συλλογισμοί· ἀπορίαν γὰρ ἔχει,
πότερον οὕτως ἔχει ἢ οὐχ οὕτως, διὰ τὸ περὶ ἀμφοτέρων
εἶναι λόγους πιθανούς. τὴν γὰρ ἡδονήν ἐστι καὶ ὡς ἀγα- (10)
θὸν συλλογίσασθαι, καὶ ὡς κακὸν, καὶ ἀμφότερα διὰ
λόγων πιθανῶν· ὅθεν ἀπορεῖν ἐστι, ποτέρῳ ἄν τις προσ-
τιθείη. καὶ κατασκευάζεται μὲν, ὡς ἀγαθόν ἐστιν, οὕτω.
τῆς ἡδονῆς πάντα ἐφίεται· οὗ δὲ πάντα ἐφίεται, ἀγα-
θόν· ἡ ἡδονὴ ἄρα ἀγαθόν. πάλιν ἐστὶ δεῖξαι, ὡς οὐκ (15)
ἀγαθὸν, οὕτως· τὸ ἀγαθὸν ἀγαθοὺς ποιεῖ· ἡ ἡδονὴ ἀ-
γαθοὺς οὐ ποιεῖ· ἡ ἡδονὴ ἄρα οὐκ ἀγαθόν·