
(And while I was browsing I found this wonderful picture on Wikipedia: Der Philosoph Pyrrhon in stürmischer See. It illustrates DL 9.68. The pig looks suitably ataraxic.)
RC: So, it’s the most obvious question to ask really: what exactly is philosophy?
AB: 99% of people who call themselves philosophers are employed by universities, in the UK. And they’re really employed to teach the history of philosophy or the theory of philosophy but they’re not philosophers as such, they’re commentators on philosophy that other people have done, on the whole. My handy definition is just a commitment to logical thinking and reasoning, and that can be directed towards any subject on earth. But it’s all fairly shaky ground, and whether someone is or isn’t a philosopher is always going to be a bit of an ambiguous question.
RC: Do you think it has something of an image problem, concerned with just asking pointless questions?
AB: Yes, a terrible image problem! Most academic philosophers would say that philosophy is pure enquiry into certain abstract questions and we have no responsibility to do the kind of thing that Joe Public expects of philosophy, which is, ‘how do I live?’ Somehow philosophy should be a repository of wisdom and that it should be particularly concerned with the great challenges of life but it doesn’t seem that this is the case.
"Th' best thing about lecturin'," said Ben, "is that a chap can get up an' say aught he pleases an' no other chap can answer him back. I wouldn't be agen' lecturin' a bit mysel' sometimes."From The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett (1911), ch. 26
This won’t take us all the way to understanding the analogy, I think, and I might get round to explaining why in due course. But for now I have a different question.
Gonzalez 1991, 153 [1], notes a similar claim made in EE 3.2 1230b21–1231a26, where Aristotle argues that non-human animals do not see beautiful visible objects as beautiful but rather use their sight so as best to find food, shelter and so on. For this reason he says that they do not take pleasure in what they see per se since, presumably, their sense activity is not complete or perfect in the way that it can be for humans. If seeing is an activity that is most complete when directed at its best object, then such animals do not engage perfectly in seeing in the way that humans can.
I’m off next to look back at the Philebus on pure pleasures, but want to delve further into this human/animal distinction a little first. Does anyone know of any further discussion of this bit of EE?
[1] Gonzalez, F. 1991. ‘Aristotle on pleasure and perfection’ Phronesis 36: 141–59.
Other great British bars appeared in a burst of heroic creativity in the 1920s and 1930s: the Flake in 1920, Cadbury’s Fruit and Nut in 1928, Fry’s Crunchie in 1929, the Aero in 1935, then in 1937 no fewer than three masterpieces, the Rolo, the Kit Kat and Smarties. All British inventions. According to Roald Dahl: ‘In music, the equivalent would be the golden age of Bach, Mozart and Beethoven. In painting, it was the equivalent of the Italian Renaissance and the advent of Impressionism at the end of the 19th century; in literature, Tolstoy, Balzac and Dickens.’I thought the Rolo, for example, was a much more recent invention. Still, things have not always been a series of noble achievements. First, there is the Marathon/Snickers debacle and, perhaps more worryingly, some years ago Mars removed the little cardboard strip from Bounty bars, as lamented by the great John Shuttleworth in the song 'Mutiny over the Bounty' that gives this post its title: