Medieval Philosophy – Prof. Dr. Robert C. Koons

http://www.utexas.edu/cola/depts/philosophy/faculty/koons/phl349/syllabus.htm

Lecture # 17: Ethics: Eudaemonism in Boethius and Aquinas

Boethius on the Fact/Value distinction

It is widely accepted in modern philosophy that there is a distinction between facts and values. Facts are
what they are, independent of our attitudes or how we feel about them. Values, in contrast, are things that
we “have”. The values of things in the external world are just the projections upon them of our feelings,
attitudes, desires and aversions. We call things “good” when we like them, “bad” when we dislike them.
There is nothing good or bad in itself, but “thinking makes it so” (as Shakespeare’s Hamlet put it).

In contrast, Boethius argues that what is good (including what is good for us, what is the best thing for us to
do) is a matter of fact, something that we discover, not something that we invent. Following Aristotle,
Boethius argues that all human beings necessarily seek happiness, although they may seek it by different
paths. As I mentioned above, Boethius describes wicked men by means of the analogy of the drunkard who
is seeking his home but cannot find the right path. Humans fail to achieve their proper and natural end of
happiness because they confuse happiness with other things, things which are really just means and not
ends (like wealth, power, health), or things that are just the typical signs and symptoms of the end (like
pleasure or honor).

Oxford philosopher J. L . Mackie (in his Ethics: Inventing Right and Wrong) argued that this Aristotelian
approach doesn’t succeed in overcoming the fact/value distinction. Mackie argued that an Aristotelian like
Boethius must say we ought to seek goodness (as Boethius conceives it), that it would be good for people to
seek goodness. This is, itself, however, just a projection of Boethius’s feelings upon the world. It would be
quite possible for someone to say to Boethius, “I don’t care at all about “goodness” in your sense (attaining
virtue, possessing God, and so on).” For such a person, what Boethius calls “goodness” would have no value
at all, demonstrating that goodness is a projection of our attitudes, not a reality inherent in the objects of our
attitudes.

However, Boethius has, I think, a cogent reply to Mackie. Boethius would deny that must say anything like
“people ought to pursue goodness”, or “it would be good for people to pursue goodness”. Instead, Boethius
is claiming that, as a matter of absolute necessity, everybody does pursue goodness or happiness. We have
absolutely no choice about that matter. Instead, what we can choose is how we go about pursuing happiness,
what paths we take. But, now it is an objective fact which paths will in fact lead to true happiness and which
will not. We can say “you ought to pursue wisdom”, and “you ought to prefer wisdom to the accumulation
of wealth”, and state objective facts, since it is a fact that the path of wisdom, rather than the path of
unbridled wealth-seeking, is the path that leads to the thing that all men want, namely, happiness.

It is true that we may find ourselves unable to agree about exactly what the nature of true happiness is, but
that does not demonstrate that there is not a fact of the matter. We may be unable to reach agreement about
whether a certain kind of tax cut will stimulate the economy or not: that doesn’t mean that there isn’t an
objective fact there to be known.

Boethius on the Non-Existence of Evil

Boethius agrees with Plotinus and Augustine that evil is a privation, a kind of non-being. In fact, he goes so
far as to assert that the wicked don't exist. He didn't mean by this that the existence of wicked people or of
their wicked actions is just an illusion, but rather that insofar as a person exists, he or she is good, and that
wickedness is a way of falling short of the fullness of being.

Boethius argues that wickedness is a form of powerlessness. All human beings of necessity seek the good, as
we have seen, but only righteous people succeed. Wicked people fail utterly to achieve that which they are
truly seeking. To fail to achieve what one is seeking, either through ignorance of its nature or through a lack
of self-control, is to be powerless. Hence, wickedness is simply a form of powerlessness.

To exist is to have the power to attain what one is seeking - so powerlessness is a form of non-existence.
Boethius uses the analogy of the relationship between a corpse and a living human body: a corpse does not
exist (as a single, integrated entity) in the same way that a living body exists. A corpse is really just a mass of
matter that once constituted a thing but is no longer truly a thing at all. In the same way, to the extent that a
human being is wicked, he or she ceases to be a single, integrated human being. An absolutely evil human
being is impossible, since absolute evil would entail absolute non-existence.

This underscores the point we discussed last time: the inescapability and ineluctability of the pursuit of
objective goodness. If a human being were really to say this and truly mean it: "Yes, a truly good, fully
human life would involve virtue, but, so what? I don't care a whit for living a fully human life," the person
would utterly cease to be a human being, and so cease to be something to which the pronoun "I" could
possibly apply. To turn from the objective good is to commit a kind of metaphysical suicide. It is literally an
unsustainable position.

Aquinas on Value and the Will

I. Aquinas on the nature of value

Aquinas’s account of value (the good) is quite similar to that of Boethius. Both would deny that value is
something that we create through our choices, or that value is something merely subjective, in the sense that
whatever appears to be good to someone is automatically good to or for them. For Aquinas, our minds do
not create value: they respond to it. The human will cannot be the ultimate source of value or purpose:
thewill’s function is to choose means that are appropriate for its end. The will cannot choose its own ultimate
end, since all choice presupposes a fixed end as its criterion or standard.

Everything in nature naturally moves toward its own natural end, or telos. This is true even of inanimate
matter, like the elements of earth, water, air and fire. Fire does not, of course, literally desire or choose to
rise, but it does nonetheless have a natural movement toward a natural end (in this case, a natural place). It
sometimes thought that this “teleological” (end-oriented or purposeful) view of nature was permanently
replaced by a purely mechanical view of nature in the 17

th

and 18

th

centuries, with the discovery of Newton’s

laws of motion, the atomic approach to chemistry, and the field theory of electromagnetism. However, this
replacement thesis is not uncontroversial: a number of prominent physicists and philosophers of science
(including the great quantum physicist Max Planck) have argued that modern physics is still thoroughly
teleological. The Aristotelian model of elements’ moving toward their natural place has been replaced by
various version of a principle of least action or cosmic laziness: particles invariably take that path which is,
in a very precise sense, the shortest or easiest path. This sort of least-action principle lies at the foundation of
every major physical theory in the last three hundred years, including Newton’s mechanics, Maxwell’s
theory of electromagnetism, Einstein’s theory of relativity, and modern quantum mechanics.

In any case, Aquinas sees human action as simply a special case of the universal phenomenon of things
moving toward their natural ends. To discover what sort of life is “best”, in the sense of being a life that
involves fully realizing the natural end of human action, is, therefore, an objective, scientific task. It isn’t a
matter of opinion or arbitrary choice, and it isn’t something that could vary from culture to culture, or from
time to time. In fact, to understand what a human being is, to understand the nature of human beings, one
must discover the natural end of human beings. The telos or end of humans is the central, organizing fact
about human nature.

Aquinas calls the natural end of human life “happiness”, which corresponds to Aristotle’s conception of
“eudaemonia”. Like Aristotle and Boethius, Aquinas argues that we have no choice about whether or not to
seek happiness: our will is, of necessity and by its very nature as a human will, concerned exclusively with
the pursuit of happiness. The function of the will is simply to choose means that are likely to lead ultimately
to this one, fixed end.

Each kind of thing has its own peculiar natural end. The end of fire is to reach the natural place of fire (above
the air and below the lunar sphere). The end of an animal or plant is to grow and mature, reaching its adult
form and successfully reproducing itself. The end of a human being is “happiness”, the perfect fulfillment of
human nature. It might seem, then, that Aquinas is a kind of pluralist or relativist about value: there is no
such thing as value or goodness as such, but only good-for-fire, good-for-oak-trees, good-for-squirrels, good-

for-humans and so on, with each of these kinds of “goodness” or value having nothing nothing in common
with the others, except formally, that is, nothing in common except that each is the natural end of the
corresponding kind of thing.

However, Aquinas’s metaphysics provides a basis for a deeper unity among these different ‘goods’. God is
not only the first cause of creation: He is also the ultimate end or purpose for which things exist. Thus, every
created thing shares an ultimate purpose: that of “glorifying” God, expressing, in a unique way, God’s
excellence and perfection. Each things accomplishes this, in the end, simply be existing. Remember
Aquinas’s doctrine of the nobility of being: existing is the perfection of perfection. A thing glorifies God by
simply existing, and it glorifies God to the greatest possible extent by existing to the greatest possible extent
permitted by its own essence. So, to exist well is simply to exist fully. Every thing aims, in so far as it can, at
absolute existence. Of course, God himself is absolute existence, so everything aims at imitating God. God
is the paradigm or exemplar of all goodness. Being good and simply being are not two separate realities: to
be good is simply to be. Goodness is being, being considered as the end of things.

This provides Aquinas with a new basis for the traditional doctrine (which we’ve already seen in Augustine,
Boethius and Pseudo-Dionysius) that evil is privation or non-being. If goodness is being, then evil must be
non-being. Evil has no real being, although it does have logical being.

II. Aquinas on The Good and the Right

Ethics is the science of value, of what is intrinsically good. Morality is concerrned with the distinction
between right and wrong actions. Some philosophers have argued that the two are separate and
independent branches of philosophy. Aquinas takes the two to be connected, since he takes the first
principle of morality to be: pursue what is good, and avoid what is bad.

Like Socrates, Plato and Aristotle, Aquinas takes morality to consist in the acquisition of moral virtues, stable
dispositions or character traits that enable human beings to live good lives. However, living morally is not
merely a means to living well (to the good life), it is an essential component of living well. No one who lives
an immoral life can live well, no matter how favorable or pleasant the consequences of his action must be.
Vice is its own penalty. As Plato and Boethius argued, to be wicked and unpunished is even worse than to
be wicked and punished, since the wickedness of the unpunished is unchecked, depriving the life of the
wicked person of any real value.

Similarly, virtue is its own reward, or, more precisely, living virtuously is its own reward. Plato thought that
simply being virtuous was sufficient to give one a good life, but Aristotle thought to live a good life one
must be free to put one’s virtue into practice throughout a complete life. Consequently, for Aristotle,
poverty, imprisonment, and the misfortune of belonging to a bad society or having bad friends could
deprive one of the opportunity for happiness. Aquinas took a middle position: he agreed with Aristotle that
one must be able to practice virtue, not merely possess it, but he believed that the highest virtues (faith, hope
and love) could be practiced in any circumstances whatsoever.

Since human beings are rational, human happiness consists in a life lived according to rational principles.
This means that the virtues needed for a good life are primarily concerned with reason, consisting either in
the ability to think clearly and correctly, or in the ability to put one’s rational thought into practice
successfully. Aristotelians recognized one purely intellectual virtue, philosophical wisdom, and four moral
virtues: practical wisdom (or prudence), justice, courage, and self-control (or temperance).

Both Plato and Aristotle wrestled with the question of whether the good life for man consists simply in the
pursuit of scientific and philosophical knowledge (the “contemplative life”), or whether, in addition to this, a
good life also required that one live as a good father, husband, friend and citizen (the “active life”).
Probably the best interpretation of both Plato and Aristotle is that they thought that both were needed, but
that the contemplative life was higher and more important.

The Aristotelian conception of happiness was explicitly this-worldly, and tailored to what we know about
the capacities of the human mind. There is no need for an afterlife, since human happiness can be fully
realized in this life. No one can achieve complete comprehension of the causal structure of the world, since
this is clearly beyond the capacities of the human mind (as we see it embodied in this world). However, we

can achieve a very real and significant degree of philosophical and scientific understanding of the world,
including a great deal of astronomy and natural theology. We should, Aristotle, learn to be content with
what is possible within the limits of human nature, since it is illogical to want to be what one cannot be (i.e.,
and angel or a god).

This this-worldy focus of Aristotle means, of course, that there is a great gap between the content of
Aristotle’s morality and the religious ethic expressed by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus’ focus is on
our place within the Kingdom of God (the “City of God”, as Augustine put it). The idea that we should turn
the other cheek and love our enemy, or that we should rejoice at the prospects of imprisonment or death for
the sake of our faith, would make no sense from Aristotle’s point of view. Hence, this gap poses a critical
problem for a Christian like Aquinas who seeks to reconcile Aristotle’s philosophy with Christian theology.

III. Nature and Supernature

Aquinas’s solution to this gap is to postulate two distinct “natural” ends for human beings: a “natural”
natural end and a “supernatural” natural end. (Aquinas doesn’t actually use these ugly phrases, but I’m
going to argue that they have a point in clarifying what Aquinas is saying.) Our natural end corresponds
almost exactly to “happiness” or “eudaemonia” as Aristotle conceived of it: a complete life, between birth
and death, lived according to our natural reason. Our supernatural end consists in nothing less than the
direct vision of the very essence of God, involving thereby our taking part in the divine nature (including
our enjoying everlasting life). The supernatural end is something very like the state of “becoming a god”
that Aristotle argued would be an illogical thing for a human being to aspire to.

Many theologians (especially Eastern Orthodox and some Protestants) have argued that this is exactly where
Aquinas’s theology takes a fatal turn into error. They argue that human beings have only one “natural” end:
the vision of God (the “beatific”, or blessed, vision). There does seem to be something illogical, given
Aquinas’s own metaphysics, in supposing that one and the same kind of thing (i.e., human beings) could
have two distinct ends. To give us a new end, wouldn’t God actually have to annihilate us and replace us
with a new, more god-like kind of being? But, in what sense then could it be the same person existing both
before and after the transformation? As Aristotle argued, if a man is annihilated and replaced by a god, it
makes no sense to say that the man has benefited thereby. Far from benefiting, the original man has simply
ceased to exist.

I think this objection is based on a misunderstanding of Aquinas. Aquinas makes very clear that it is human
beings, as we ordinarily exist, who have the supernatural end of seeing God as their ultimate, natural end.
This is clear in Aquinas’s discussions of happiness in the Summa Theologica, especially part I-II, Q2.A8 and
Q3.A8. Human beings have a natural, open-ended curiosity. As soon as we become aware of something, we
want to know its cause. Once we discover the cause, we want to know the cause of that cause, and so on.
Obviously, this curiosity cannot be satisfied until we know the first cause of everything else. Furthermore,
once we know something, we want to to know the true essence or nature of the thing. So, we’ll never be
satisfied until we know the essence of God (the first cause). But, we cannot know the essence of God by
means of our ordinary powers of sense and reason. So, human happiness must consist in experiencing an
elevation above those powers.

This fact doesn’t, however, exclude the possibility that the human end might also include earthly happiness
(in the form imagined by Aristotle). Just as Aristotle thought of human happiness as being a complex end,
including both fulfillment of the contemplative life and of the practical life, Aquinas sees human happiness
as an inclusive end, with both “natural” and “supernatural” components. And, just as contemplation was
the highest and most important component of happiness for Aristotle, so too the beatific vision is the
ultimate perfection of human happiness for Aquinas.

Still, in what sense is the beatific vision a “supernatural” end, if it is required to fulfill the deepest desires
embedded in human nature? Aquinas says that it is supernatural in three senses (adapting what he says
about why the theological virtues are “theological” in I-II, Q67 A1): (1) the object of the end is God himself,
not any natural thing, (2) the capacity to reach this end is infused into us by God himself (by an act distinct
from God’s creating and sustaining our human nature), and (3) the way to the end is not made known to us
except by the Scriptures (i.e., we cannot know how to reach this end by our natural reason).

In ST I-II, Q5 A5, Aquinas uses a statement of Aristotle’s as an analogy to help clarify this point. In the
Nicomachean Ethics (3,3), Aristotle says that “what we can do by our friends is done, in a sense, by
ourselves.” In other words, there are certain capacities (like the capacity to participate in a real friendship)
that in one sense an individual human being has by nature, and in another sense he does not have it. I don’t
have the intrinsic capacity to participate in friendship, since I cannot do so without the help of other people
(willing and able to act as my friends). However, I do in a certain sense have the natural capacity to
participate in friendship since, when I do so with the help of my friends, I am exercising a certain capacity
through my friends. In a similar way, I lack the intrinsic capacity to see God, since I cannot see God unless
God chooses to give me such a vision. However, in another sense I do have such a capacity, since God is
willing and able to do this for me, and my own nature (as created by God) foreshadows this divine grace,
since it contains a “God-shaped vacuum” (to use Blaise Pascal’s phrase) that only God can fill.