Philosophy of Nature

Nature. The term "physics" is derived from the Greek term physis which

Aristotle analyses in the Metaphysics, V, 4. There he points out that the term
had first meant the process of being born, then the principle of that process, and
then had been extended to signify the principle of any change whatsoever. It is
this third sense that is operative in the Physics and, in the second book of that
work, Aristotle undertakes to define it by comparing it with art. Things, he
begins, are either natural or artificial. We say that animals, their parts, plants,
fire, air, earth and water exist by nature, that is, are natural products. What we
mean is made explicit by contrasting such things with works of art. A pair of
shoes is not a natural product. The thing that distinguishes what exists "by art"
from that which exists "by nature" is that the latter has the principle of its
change within itself. Nature consequently can be defined as follows: it is the
principle of motion and rest in that to which it belongs primarily, per se and not
accidentally. By calling nature a principle, Aristotle leaves the way open to
understanding it as an active or passive principle of the change, that is nature
may be a power to act or a power to be acted upon. By saying that nature is a
principle of motion and rest, Aristotle is alluding to the view he does not argue
for here that things have a natural place in the universe: when they are in that
place they are naturally at rest. By saying that it is a principle in the moved
thing, Aristotle is contrasting nature to art. By calling nature a first principle,
Aristotle is suggesting that change can be called natural not necessarily with
respect to a compound as such, but with reference to a component of it.
Now we have already seen that the components of natural compounds are, for
Aristotle, matter and form. Thus we should expect that both these will save the
definition of nature, and this is precisely what Aristotle goes on to show. The
change of something may be described as natural either with respect to the
matter of which it is composed or with respect to its form. To indicate what this
means in a very general way, let us notice that death may be natural to man
because of matter, and reasoning and immortality because of form. Aristotle
gives several arguments to prove that form is more deserving of the apellation
nature than is matter. The discussion of the second chapter of book two turns on
the difference between physics and mathematics, a point we discussed earlier.
The effect of the opening considerations of the second book is to establish the
meaning of "physical things" (ta physica) in a way that connects with the
analyses of the first book. We now have a fairly clear idea of what it is of which
we seek scientific knowledge, a knowledge which is had through causes.
Now that we have established these distinctions, we must proceed to consider
causes, their character and number. Knowledge is the object of our inquiry, and
men do not think they know a thing till they have grasped the 'why' of it (which
is to grasp its primary cause). So clearly we too must do this as regards both
coming to be and passing away and every kind of physical change, in order that,
knowing their principles, we may try to refer to these principles each of our
problems. (II, 3, 194b16-23)
This sets the stage for the analysis of causes into four types, each of which will
be a principle of explanation in physics. The material cause is that out of which
something is made and which remains as a component of the result. The
examples are from art: bronze is the material cause of the statue. The formal
cause is that which is expressed in the definition of the thing. For example, if we
are asked what a statue is, we would say, not bronze, but bronze shaped in such
a way. The efficient cause is the primary cause of the change; e.g. the sculptor
who makes the statue. The final cause, that for the sake of which something is
done, is also a cause. Why does one exercise? To be healthy. This is the end or
purpose explaining why one is sweating in the gym. It can be seen that a
physical thing can be explained in terms of one or all of these four causes.
Moreover, each type of cause can be designated in several ways. In terms of
prior and posterior (distinguished according to universality) we may designate
the efficient cause of health as, respectively, the trained man or the physician. A
cause may be designated accidentally as when we say Polycitus is the cause of
the statue, since it happens that the sculptor is named Polycitus. Finally, causes
can be either actual or potential causes of their effects. The physicist's interest in
the four causes is described thus by Aristotle.
Now, the causes being four, it is the business of the physicist to know them all,
and if he refers his problems back to all of them, he will assign the 'why' in the
way proper to his science -- the matter, the form, the mover, 'that for the sake of
which.' The last three often coincide; for the 'what' and 'that for the sake of
which' are one, while the primary source of motion is the same in species as
these (for man generates man) . . . (II,7,198a21-27)
The form or essence of the generated things is that for the sake of which the
process took place and the moving or agent cause is of the same species as its
effect in natural generation. Aristotle has much to say of finality in nature, but
before looking at that doctrine, we must say something about the discussions in
Chapters Four through Six on accidental causes.
Chance and Fortune. We say that some things come about by chance, and
Aristotle wants to investigate our reasons for doing this to see if we are speaking
of a real cause. It is important to realize that Aristotle is concerned with chance
as cause, something evident in our use of the phrase "by chance." Aristotle first
notes a surprising range of opinions on chance. Some deny its reality and claim
that anything ascribed to chance can be ascribed to a determinate cause.
Meeting an old friend does not come about by chance but because one went to
the market place and ran into him. Moreover, the early natural philosophers did
not list chance as a cause, though some, like Empedocles, assign things to
chance as to a cause. Indeed, some who do not attribute to chance the formation
of lesser entities, say that the heavenly sphere is a result of chance. Finally,
there are those who believe chance to be real but mysterious, inscrutable and
beyond our ken. Since some things always come about in the same way,
whereas others occur in a certain fashion only for the most part, there are some
rare occurences as well. It is this last class of events that we ascribe to chance.
In arriving at an analysis of chance in the natural realm, Aristotle proceeds by
analysing chance in human affairs, what we would call fortune or luck. Very
briefly, his teaching is this. Something can come about by chance only where
there is an agent acting for an end. Thus, if on the way to the store I find a ten
dollar bill, I would call myself lucky, the beneficiary of good fortune. In other
words, I am ascribing the finding of the money to chance. What now of the first
objection Aristotle recorded? Someone might say that I am guilty of fuzziness
when I ascribe such an occurrence to chance; there is a determinate cause of the
event. If I had not gone to the store, I would not have found the money; since I
went to the store, I found the money. This objection is extremely useful, for it
forces us to ask what kind of cause of my finding the money going to the store
is -- that it is the cause is evident enough. But if we observe that going to the
store does not usually have as its result my finding ten dollars, we are in a
position to say that this is not a determinate cause of my discovery -- a
determinate cause produces its effect always or for the most part (or at least,
intentionally; the pole vaulter does not always or usually surpass his previous
feats, but when be does it would not be advisable to congratulate him on his
luck until he has laid aside his pole). The event ascribed to chance comes about
rarely, outside the intention of the agent, and is good or evil for the agent. Now
the regularity in nature suggests intention; freaks of nature suggest that chance
is a real cause in the natural order. The universe, then, is not a concatenation of
necessary occurrences for Aristotle. There are things that come about by chance,
an element of caprice and unpredictability; moreover, it would make no sense to
say that obviously ordered things come about by chance, since this would mean,
not that there is no purpose, but that in pursuing one purpose nature accidentally
brought about another. In other words, chance in nature, as Aristotle has
analysed it, makes sense only against the background of nature as purposive.
Finality. Arguments against finality seem to be as old as arguments for it and
Aristotle commences his discussion of nature as purposive principle by setting
down objections to this view. Why can't we say that things simply come about
by necessity and, rather than say that rain falls so that the crops will grow, say it
rains because vapor rises and condenses and falls as rain, with the growth of the
crops as an incidental effect of this necessary chain of events? So too we need
not say that some teeth are for tearing and others for chewing, but that, simply
given the teeth we have, it happens we find them useful for various purposes of
ours. Aristotle's rejection of these objections are straightforward. Why should
we ascribe to chance what comes about usually or normally? "If then, it is
agreed that things are either the result of coincidence or for an end, and these
cannot be the result of coincidence of chance, it follows that they must be for an
end." (II, 8, 199a3-5) This view that nature acts for an end suggests the kind of
necessity we may expect in our explanations of natural events.
But in things which come to be for an end, the reverse is true. If the end is to
exist or does exist, that also which precedes it will exist or does exist; otherwise
just as there, if the conclusion is not true, the premiss will not be true, so here
the end or 'that for the sake of which' will not exist. . . If then there is to be a
house, such-and-such things must be made or be there already or exist, or
generally the matter relative to the end, bricks and stones if it is a house. But the
end is not due to these except as the matter, nor will it come to exist because of
them. (II, 9, 200a19-27)
Motion. Having defined nature as a principle of motion, Aristotle must
determine what motion is if he is to have a proper understanding of the subject
of physics. The discussion of motion will carry him on to allied subjects:
infinity, place, void, time. We shall give a brief exposition of what Aristotle has
to say concerning motion and then indicate his doctrine on the allied notions.
Motion is defined by Aristotle as the act of what exists in potency insofar as it is
in potency. To understand this definition, we must make a threefold division of
things into those which are wholly in act, those which are only potentially, and
those which are midway between these extreme conditions. What is only
potentially is not in movement; e.g., the seated man is standing only potentially.
So too what is wholly in act is not in motion; e.g. the man, having stood up, is
actually standing and that's that. The act of getting up out of the chair is motion
and it is identified by contrast with the extreme states of potency alone and act
alone. It is an imperfect act: one who is getting up is not wholly in act, i.e., not
actually standing, nor wholly in potency, that is simply seated, but somewhere
in between. Motion, therefore is not the potency of something existing in
potency nor the act of something existing in act, but the act of something
existing in potency just as such, where "just as such" indicates the relation of the
imperfect act to further act. The thing existing in potency alone, e.g., the man
seated, can be seen as in potency to two acts: the imperfect act which is motion
and the perfect act which is the term of the motion, standing erect.
Related Notions. Since motion involves the continuum and this is said to be
infinite, Aristotle goes on to define infinity. "A quantity is infinite if it is such
that we can always take a part outside what has been already taken."
(III,6,207a7-8) Infinity is always potential, it is that which is always further
divisible. Aristotle argues against the possibility of an actual infinite. The
physicist must define place as well, if only because locomotion, change of
place, is the most general and common kind of motion. Place is the innermost
motionless boundary of the container (IV,4,212a20-1) As to the void, Aristotle
rejects it. Time he defines as the number of motion with respect to the before
and after. (IV, 11, 219b1-2)
In the fifth book of the Physics, Aristotle divides motion into its species,
locomotion, alteration, augmentation and decrease, motions in the categories of
place, quality and quantity, respectively. He then discusses the unity and
opposition of motions. In the sixth book, he discusses the quantitative parts of
motion.
In the last two books of the Physics, Aristotle discusses the Prime Mover. That
such a mover exists is proved by appeal to two truths: whatever is moved is
moved by another and there cannot be an infinite series of moved and moving
things. Thus there must be a first unmoved mover if motion is to be explained;
Aristotle proceeds here on the assumption that motion is eternal and has not had
a beginning. The Prime Mover is shown to be without parts or magnitude.
Having arrived at an entity which is immobile and incorporeal, Aristotle has
encountered a being which does not as such fall under the scope of natural
science. As we will see, it is this proof that something immaterial and immobile
exists that permits Aristotle to say that "being" need not be taken to mean
mobile being alone; in other words, there is a possibility for another science
whose subject is being as being. That science is First Philosophy, what has
come to be called Metaphysics, and in discussing it, we will examine Aristotle's
notion of a Prime Mover. Treatises Consequent on the Physics. We saw earlier
Aristotle's concern for orderly procedure in natural science. This attention
to method is not confined to the materials of one work, but applies as well to the
relation of the various works to one another. In this wider perspective,
the Physics presents doctrine presupposed in the other natural works and is thus
prior to all the rest. In this introductory work we find a general analysis of
motion, a comparison of types of motion, and so forth. It is in terms of types of
motion that the later works can be seen to be divided, and since there is an order
of priority and posteriority among the species of motion, there is also an order
among the works concerned with them. It has been proved in the Physics that
local motion is the first and most common motion; thus, in On the Heavens both
heavenly and terrestial bodies are treated insofar as they are subject to local
motion. Subsequent motions, that according to quality and that according to
quantity, are thought not to be common to every natural thing: alteration, taken
as ordered to generation, is confined to terrestial things and On Generation and
Corruption is concerned with such things from that viewpoint. The discussion of
the transmutation of the elements (fire, air, earth and water) is continued in
the Meteorology. Augmentation and decrease, looked upon as following the
taking of nourishment, lead to the discussion of living beings, a discussion
commenced in On the Soul and carried on in On Sense and the Object of
Sense, On Memory and Reminiscence and in the many works on animals. The
whole sweep of Aristotelian natural doctrine thus appears as a movement from
general truths which cover natural things indiscriminately to determinate,
concrete statements about natural things in their specificity. We must here
satisfy ourselves with a few remarks on his general treatise on the soul.
The Soul. Aristotle begins his discussion of the nature and properties of the soul
by indicating the desirability and value of possessing such knowledge as well as
the difficulties which face one who would ask of soul, what is it? There is no
one method to be followed when one is seeking knowledge of essence as there
is one method for demonstrating properties. What we must ask is what genus
contains soul; whether soul is a substance, quality or something quantitative, or
something else; further, we must ask if it is something potential or actual.
Moreover, we must be careful to ask whether soul can be defined in general
without regard to its species, or whether we must from the outset seek the
definition of a determinate type of soul.
We must be careful not to ignore the question whether soul can be defined in a
single unambiguous formula, as is the case with animal, or whether we must not
give a separate formula for each sort of it, as we do for horse, dog, man, god (in
the latter case the 'universal' animal -- and so too every other common predicate
-- being treated either as nothing at all or as a later product). (I,1,402b5-9)
Again, if there are parts of the soul, should these be considered before or after
soul itself? A question also arises concerning the mode of defining the passions
or affections of soul, since it seems necessary to include the body in such
definitions. "That is precisely why the study of the soul must fall within the
science of nature, at least so far as in its affections it manifests this double
character." (403a27-8) Before turning to his own answers to these and allied
questions, Aristotle polls his predecessors to see what they had to say on the
subject of soul, a survey that occupies the remainder of the first book.
When he turns to the task of defining the soul in the second book, Aristotle
begins with a number of divisions. First, he points out that there is a threefold
sense of "substance:" matter, form, and the compound of the two. Furthermore,
matter is potentiality, form actuality. Finally, actuality is of two sorts,
exemplified by the possession of knowledge and the use of knowledge. Now the
most obvious instances of substance are natural bodies and of these some have
life, others do not. A sign that a body is living is self-nutrition or growth. Thus,
living natural bodies are substances in the sense of compounds of matter and
form.
But since it is also body of such and such a kind, viz. having life, the body
cannot be soul; the body is the subject or matter, not what is attributed to it.
Hence the soul must be a substance in the sense of the form of a natural body
having life potentially within it. But substance is actually. and thus soul is the
actuality of a body as above characterized. Now the word actuality has two
senses corresponding respectively to the possession of knowledge and the actual
exercise of knowledge. It is obvious that the soul is actuality in the first sense,
viz. that of knowledge as possessed, for both sleeping and waking presuppose
the existence of the soul, and of these waking corresponds to actual knowing,
sleeping to knowledge possessed but not employed, and, in the history of the
individual, knowledge comes before its employment or exercise. That is why
the soul is the first grade of actuality of a natural body having life potentially
within it. (II,1,412a16-28)
The soul is the substantial form of the living body; for this reason, body is
described as that which has life potentially. The genesis of the living thing is a
substantial generation and cannot be the addition of life to an already constituted
body as if this were the addition of an accidental determination. Soul is the first
actuality of living body, determining it as to whatit is.
Aristotle goes on to say that the body which has life potentially is an organic
body; a diversity of parts is required for the diversity of vital functions.
Aristotle's procedure indicates that he is in effect answering several of the
questions he posed at the outset of the first book. The soul is substance in the
sense of form furthermore, it is something actual, indeed the first act of living
body. To the question as to whether soul in general can first be defined,
Aristotle is answering in the affirmative. "We have now given an answer to the
question, What is soul? -- and answer which applies to it in its full extent."
(412b10) Finally, the soul is considered before its parts.
Having given a definition of the soul, Aristotle wants to explain it and to do this
he returns to his distinction of natural bodies into those which are living and
those which are not. How do we come to say that some bodies are living?
Obviously, because they manifest life. but this is done in a variety of ways, and
if any of them is present it suffices to say that a body is alive. "Living, that is,
may mean thinking or sensation or local movement and rest, or movement in the
sense of nutrition, decay and growth." (413a23-5) The soul is that whereby the
living thing performs any and all of these operations, but their diversity suggests
parts or faculties or powers of soul and these faculties are related as prior to
posterior. Thus, self-nutrition can not only be considered apart from other
powers or faculties, it can also exist apart in the sense that some living things
possess only this grade of life. When living things also possess the power of
sensation, we say that they are animals, and among the faculties of sense, touch
is the most basic, since any animal must have this at least. Thus, self-nutrition
enables us to group plants and animals, possession of touch enables us to group
all animals together. The power of thinking sets the human soul apart from other
animal souls. There are three species of soul, then, the plant, the animal and the
human, and of each of them the definition of soul given at the outset can be
predicated univocally. Nevertheless, when we turn to the species of the soul, we
notice that there is a certain order among them; the human soul has the
capacities of the animal soul and more besides; the animal soul has the
capacities of the plant soul and more besides. The most basic type of soul,
consequently, is the plant soul. Aristotle likens the relations among the species
of soul to those obtaining among the species of figure: the triangle is contained
in the square, etc. (414b20 ff.)
The remainder of the second book is occupied with the discussion of the
nutritive power and the external senses, sight, hearing, smell, taste and touch. In
the third book, Aristotle speaks of internal senses. The common sense is that
which accounts for sensible awareness of the differences among the objects of
external sense. As St. Thomas puts it: "We know the difference between white
and sweet, not only with respect to what each is, for this is done by intellect, but
also with respect to a diverse immutation of sense and this can only be done by
sense." (In III De Anima, 1.3, n. 601) Imagination is the internal sense whereby
we have sensory awareness of objects no longer present to the external senses.
The highpoint of On the Soul is reached in the discussion of that faculty with
which the soul knows and thinks. Aristotle first compares intellection with
sensation and then makes this important statement.
Thus that in the soul which is called mind (by mind I mean that whereby the
soul thinks and judges) is, before it thinks, not actually any real thing. For this
reason it cannot reasonably be regarded as blended with the body: if so, it would
acquire some quality, e.g., warmth or cold, or even have an organ like the
sensitive faculty: as it is, it has none. It was a good idea to call the soul 'the
place of forms' though (1) this description holds only of the intellective soul,
and (2) even this is the forms only potentially, not actually. (III,4,429a22-9)
An indication of the difference between sense and intellect is found in the fact
that our ability to see can be impaired by an object too bright whereas when
mind concentrates on what is more knowable it is afterwards more able to think
of objects less intelligible: "the reason is that while the faculty of sensation is
dependent upon the body, mind is separable from it." (429b4-5) It is the
realization that intellectual activity is independent of body that leads Aristotle to
the assertion that the intellective soul is immortal and eternal.
And in fact mind as we have described it is what it is by virtue of becoming all
things, while there is another which is what it is by virtue of making all things:
this is a sort of positive state like light; for in a sense light makes potential
colors into actual colors. Mind in this sense of it is separable, impassible,
unmixed, since it is in its essential nature activity . . . Actual knowledge is
identical with its object: in the individual, potential knowledge is in time prior to
actual knowledge, but in the universe as a whole it is not prior even in time.
Mind is not at one time knowing and at another not. When mind is set free from
its present conditions it appears as just what it is and nothing more: this alone is
immortal and eternal . . . (430a14ff.)
Aristotle speaks of two intellectual faculties: the agent, here compared to light,
and the passive, that which actually becomes what it knows. Since the activity
of each is separable, not involving the body, the soul of which they are faculties
survives death.
This passage is extemely difficult and the interpretation we have given of it
would be rather generally contested. In the Middle Ages Aristotle's doctrine of a
passive and agent intellect, the separability of each, and whether they are
faculties of the human soul will be points of great contention. Whether one
accepts or rejects the view that Aristotle demonstrates the immortality of the
soul in the third book of On the Soul, it is clear that neither in that work nor in
any other treatise does he undertake to discuss the status of the human soul as
separated from the body.
In Chapter Six of the third book, Aristotle establishes the two-fold operation of
intellect he had presupposed in On Interpretation. Mention must be made of the
famous Aristotelian remark that the soul is in a way all things, since existing
things are either objects of sensation or thought. He stresses the dependence of
intellection on sensation, and teaches that intellectual activity always involves
concomitant imaginative activity.
If it is accepted that Aristotle proves in On the Soul that the human soul does
not perish at death, we find two instances in natural philosophy where thought is
led to the reasoned realisation that there is an existent separable from matter and
motion: the Prime Mover and the intellectual soul after death. It is against the
background of these discoveries that Aristotle is able to go on to speak of a
speculative science which has as its subject being as being, a phrase that
suggests that his interest is no longer confined to being as mobile. Of course, it
would make little sense to speak of being as being if this were tantamount to
being as mobile: there would be no distinct science of it. Before turning to an
examination of Aristotle's doctrine contained in the books of the Metaphysics,
we must first consider his practical philosophy.
The main sources for this exposition of Aristotle's practical philosophy will be
the Nicomachean Ethics and the Politics. As essays in practical philosophy,
these two works will be seeking knowledge which is ordered to doing, to human
action. It is always from the viewpoint of its relevance for action that we must
consider the procedure of Aristotle in practical philosophy; the study of ethics
and politics should not be considered something of interest for its own sake.
One who would listen to discussions of what ought to be done, take copious
notes and commit these to memory, without applying this knowledge to his own
actions would be like one who expects to get well, not by doing what the doctor
prescribes, but by listening attentively and remembering everything he is told.
(cf. Ethics II,4,1105b13 ff.) One does not become good by philosophizing, but
by performing good actions; the hope, of course, is that the considerations of
practical philosophy will facilitate the choice of the correct course of action.
Somewhat the same point is made in the first book of the Ethics(1095a5) when
Aristotle observes that the young are not apt students of moral philosophy. The
young in heart, whatever their age, pursue now this object, now that, as passion
directs. We might object that no one needs moral philosophy more than the
immature, but Aristotle will reply that, since such persons are indisposed with
respect to action and the end of moral science is not knowledge but action, its
study is vain and unprofitable for them. What is it that the properly disposed
student has that the immature lack which enables the former to profit from
moral philosophy? Moral science, Aristotle notes, in common with every
discipline, must begin with those things which the student knows and of which
he is a good judge. But the things with which the moral philosopher is
concerned are good and just acts and the recognition of these as such requires a
special disposition on the part of the student, a disposition that the science
presupposes and does not confer. We will see later that Aristotle does not deny
that there is a sense in which the morally immature man can learn ethics, but its
true import, which is not for knowledge but for action, will be lost on such a
student. It is against this background that Aristotle makes the following very
important methodological remark.
Now fine and just actions, which political science [Aristotle's generic name for
moral philosophy] investigates, admit of much variety and fluctuation of
opinion, so that they may be thought to exist only by convention, and not by
nature. And goods also give rise to a similar fluctuation because they bring harm
to many people; for before now men have been undone by reason of their
wealth, and others by reason of their courage. We must be content, then, in
speaking of such subjects and with such premisses to indicate the truth roughly
and in outline, and in speaking about things which are only for the most part
true and with premisses of the same kind to reach conclusions that are no better.
(Ethics, I,3,109b15-23)
As practical knowledge, moral philosophy is directed to action, to singular
actions, as to its term; because the circumstances in which we act and we as
agents vary considerably, the generalizations of ethics and political science,
both premisses and conclusions, will be unable to achieve a perfect fit with
action. Nevertheless, since such knowledge, though remote and tentative, is of
some value when we must decide, its pursuit is justified; we notice once more
that the justification comes on the side of a disposition to make use of this
knowledge. The unsatisfactory character of practical philosophy just as
knowledge makes the pursuit of it for its own sake, and not for the sake of using
it in action, an endeavor of little moment.
If Aristotle insists again and again that the doctrine of the Ethics and Politics is
only probable, more or less likely, and so forth, we must not think that he is of
the opinion that convention and custom are the only rules of action and that
nature has no role to play. We saw how Plato, faced with the question as to what
man ought to do, turns immediately to ask what man is. Practical norms must be
anchored in knowledge of man's nature. (Cf. Ethics, V,7) I So too, in the first
book, Aristotle will ask, what is man's proper function? The answer to this
question presupposes knowledge of what man is. Before turning to that
discussion, however, we must first say a word on the relation between ethics
and politics.
We have already alluded parenthetically to the fact that "political science" is
synonymous with moral philosophy for Aristotle. His reason for this usage is to
be found in his contention that man is naturally a political animal. This
statement has no more alarming purport than that man, inevitably, is born into a
society: that of the family since a man must have parents; that of a community
of families, since men are better enabled to survive if there is a division of labor.
"Naturally," in the statement "man is naturally a political animal," obviously
does not mean that states are natural products in the way trees are. Rather, man's
nature suggests the state, since the individual cannot achieve human perfection
easily if at all in a solitary condition. The formation of the state follows, then, on
the pursuance of the goal suggested by man's nature. If man is part of various
communities, these communities or wholes can possess ends which are not
simply the end of the individual taken as such; but, because the family and the
state are the kinds of whole they are, their parts, individuals, can have ends or
goals which are not those of the whole as such. This, as we have already seen, is
the basis for the division of practical philosophy into ethics, economics and
politics. Politics, since it is concerned with the common good of citizens, is
preeminent in the practical order, and its direction of various activities to an end
has more the nature of wisdom. For this reason, as terminal and preeminent,
politics lends its name to the whole of practical philosophy.