The Greek Concept of Virtue

Sally Haslanger

Sally Haslanger is the Ford Professor of Philosophy in the Department of Linguistics and Philosophy at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and holds the 2015 Spinoza Chair of Philosophy at the University of Amsterdam.

Let us begin by looking in a general way at the ancient Greek conception of virtue and morality. Although the various authors we will consider differ considerably in their views about morality, there are a number of core assumptions which they all shared, and within which their views evolved. Many of the assumptions and the debates will be familiar to us; they concern the foundations of moral motivation (why be moral?), the basis for moral obligation (by what authority does morality make demands on us?), and moral epistemology (how do we know what is right or wrong? Can virtue be taught?).

The Greek word for virtue is 'ARETE'. For the Greeks, the notion of virtue is tied to the notion of function (ERGON). The virtues of something are what enable it to perform excellently its proper function. Virtue (or arete) extends beyond the realm of morality; it concerns the excellent performance of any function.  For example the function of a paring knife is to cut fruits and vegetables. A paring knife "has virtues" relative to that function, eg., a good paring knife has the virtue of being sharp, strong, etc. From this it appears that our own broad idea of virtue retains the Greek suggestion that virtue is excellence in performing one's proper function.

In keeping with this broad conception of virtue, human virtue is that which enables a human being to perform well or excellently the proper function of a human being.  We may find it odd to speak of the proper goal or function of a human being; what is the function of human beings? The function of something is linked to what it can do especially well, or what only it can do. For humans, to put the point broadly, this is to live a human life.  So the function of a human being is to live well or excellently the life that we have.  Since to live well is to be happy, one's virtue is what enables one to lead a happy life.

So, on the Greek conception of virtue, a virtuous person is one who has the ability to live excellently, ie., to live a full, productive, and happy human life.  Moral goodness is a kind of functional goodness: goodness relative to our proper purpose or function.  This is only a schematic model and must be filled in by further discussion of what constitutes a distinctively human life, and distinctively human excellence.

Happiness is not only the product of well-living, but it is also what we naturally pursue.  We have as our function a well-lived life, and we are naturally motivated to pursue such a life; this is a life of happiness. In short, happiness is our TELOS, ie., our goal or aim.  On the Greek approach to ethics what is morally right for an agent must contribute to the agent's happiness, for the moral goodness of our actions is necessarily connected to living well.  On this view, one can always characterize what is morally right in a way which reveals it as conducive to the agent's good, or self-interest. (This need not mean that all morality is narrowly self-centered, for it may be essential to my happiness and the goodness of my life that I am able to care for others.)

During Socrates' lifetime, it was usually assumed that there are five cardinal virtues: wisdom, moderation/temperance, bravery, justice, piety.  Popular belief had it that one could have one of these virtues without having the rest.  Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle believed, however, that the virtues are inseparable; if you have one you have them all.

The point of these virtues is that each enables one to perform well in a particular sphere of life, and the virtues together enable one to live a good life as a whole.  Bravery enables one to perform well in situations of danger; justice enables one to carry out successfully one's dealings with the others in a community; having all of the virtues enables one to perform excellently in all aspects of life. Truly living well requires that one have all of the virtues; complete virtue is the key to happiness (EUDAIMONIA).

There are two problems we shall have to address in coming to understand this conception of virtue:

1. Morality requires that we be just. To be just is to honor the claims of others in considering potential conflicts. In some cases, honoring the claims of others will clearly be against one's self-interest. How do we reconcile the claim that justice is a virtue and so (necessarily) leads to my happiness, with the seemingly undeniable fact that sometimes the unjust person who does not treat others fairly ends up happier? (Eg., won't an unjust person who gets more than a fair share of the pie be happier than they would be if the pie were divided fairly?)

2. If all morality is in our self-interest (because morality necessarily promotes our happiness), and we are naturally motivated to act in our own self-interest, why is it that sometimes we perform actions we know to be morally wrong? In other words, how is possible that sometimes we know the right thing to do, and yet go ahead and do the wrong thing? This is known as the problem of AKRASIA or "weakness of will".

Ancient philosophy, Fall 2004, lecture notes

Akrasia

J. C. B. Gosling

Socrates questioned whether one could ever deliberately, when able to follow either course, choose the worse, because overcome by fear, pleasure, etc.—i.e. whether akrasia could occur. In his view any deliberate agent must consider that what they are doing best fits their objectives (what they take to be their good). If seriously overcome, they would not be acting deliberately. What we deliberate (reason practically) about is always what we consider will be the best way to achieve our good. The apparent conflict between reason and passion is rejected: passions are unstable, untutored judgements about what is best; knowledge is necessary and sufficient for bringing stability to our judgements. This sets the problem as (i) how can we act against what reason dictates? And (ii) how can we act against our view of what we take as good? Socrates answered that we cannot.


Aristotle and others following him thought Socrates ignored the obvious facts. They contrasted reason and pursuit of the good with motivation by passion. This involved denying the Socratic view that all deliberate action is aimed at what the agent considers best: I can take a meringue because I want it, without thinking taking one the best thing for me to do. There grew up a tendency to ally virtue with the exercise of reason, in opposition to passion with its relatively short-term considerations: and to see akrasia as a moral problem, the question of its possibility as one for ethics.

In the Middle Ages account had to be given of how the Devil, without passion, could deliberately go wrong. Aquinas tried to account for this as an error of reason, Scotus saw it as a case of the will freely choosing a good, but one which it should not choose. Passion-free akrasia was on the map.

In the twentieth century R. M. Hare saw a problem arising because he considered that in their primary use moral judgements express the agent's acceptance of a guiding principle of action : if they are not acted on, how are they guiding? To account for akrasia he tried to devise a notion of psychological compulsion compatible with blame. Donald Davidson sees the problem as more generally one in philosophy of action: can we give an account of intentional or deliberate behaviour which allows of deliberate choice of an action contrary to what deliberation, whether moral or not, favours? The limitations to morality and conflict with passion have been dropped, but the contrast of reason with something less long-term or comprehensive retained.

Davidson retains the assumption that akratic behaviour is irrational in being contrary to what in some sense the agent considers at the time that reason requires—contrary to an all-things-considered or better judgement—and in contravention of a principle of practical reason, which he calls the principle of continence, which enjoins us always to act on such judgements. These judgements, which always have ‘more reason’ on their side, also are generally seen as contrasted with a narrower and more short-term view. Attempts to characterize such judgements have not been successful. There are insuperable problems with all-things-considered judgements; but talk of better judgement only secures the tie with reason if it collapses into talk of all-things-considered judgement.


In fact the puzzle, if there is one, arises even where a contrast between reason and something else is hard to make out: Hamlet is an interesting case. It arises because the agent seems in a way to favour a course which he then does not take, without apparently ceasing to favour it. Neither passion nor short-term considerations are an essential factor. What is puzzling is unforced action against apparently sincere declarations of opposition to it.

The views mentioned earlier treat the problem as one of how we can act against reason. A difference between animals and humans has been thought to be that the latter have a natural tendency towards what they reason to be their good, enabling them to resist passion. This is a rational faculty, the will , which is either always responsive to reason, in which case weakness is always a defect of reason; or always aims at some good, but is able to reject the one reason proffers, in which case akrasia is seen as weakness of will.

That reason does not always dictate intentional action seems to follow from the fact that if there is no common standard for judging between two objectives, or there is, but reason cannot determine that one is to be preferred to the other by that standard, then the agent (the will) must be free to choose either way. If, in the case of wrongdoing, there is no overarching standard for choosing between the moral good and some other objective, then the will has to choose between standards, without the help of reason. The will may be overcome by passion (be weak), but in the absence of passion is just evil when it chooses the worse course.

This view of the will can be demoralized by attaching it to long-term objectives generally, or to reflective choice. Yet there are many problems in the whole project of postulating such a rational faculty, which is an unstable structure built too rapidly on some familiar idioms and supposed requirements of experience.

Mr J. C. B. Gosling "Akrasia" The Oxford Companion to Philosophy, Oxford University Press 2005.

*Also see this, this, and this on Akrasia in this blog.

Socrates' point of view on Akrasia

According to Socrates (470 BC-399 BC), akrasia (also see) is practically impossible for an agent cannot knowingly take an action against her better judgement. This is particularly manifest in Protagoras 345d-e:

“[S]imonides was not so ignorant as to say that he praised those who did no evil voluntarily, as though there were some who did evil voluntarily. For no wise man, as I believe, will allow that any human being errs voluntarily, or voluntarily does evil and dishonorable actions; but they are very well aware that all who do evil and dishonorable things do them against their will.”

Socrates believes that moral weakness cannot occur in the presence of knowledge. In his opinion, a knowledgeable person wouldn’t comply with anything other than her knowledge. According to Aristotle, Socrates “[thought that] it would be strange if when knowledge was in a man something else could master it and drag it about like a slave.” (1) Hence, the agent who acts against her better judgement only proves her ignorance. According to Socrates, the person who engages in actions which are clearly contrary to her best interest must have mistaken beliefs. That is to say, the agent intends to act, in a sense, according to her best choices but she is simply mistaken about what is best for her.

Example

Jack is in his exams period. In ten days he has to hand in four final papers; every hour is precious to him. Alice, his beautiful classmate, calls and invites him for a glass of wine to her cozy apartment. Jack accepts her offer without any hesitation because he finds it quite pleasant to have a glass of wine with the prettiest girl in his class.

Socrates’ analysis: Socrates would probably say that although Jack is a mature university student, he only has a short vision when it comes to pleasure. He doesn't have an accurate grasp of what is truly good for himself. He chooses the immediate pleasure over the long term pleasure because the short term pleasure is, probably, more accessible to him. Jack knows that every hour counts for him and that he really should have stayed home to study. He, nonetheless, engages in Alice’s project. In Socrates’ view, had Jack really known what was best for himself, he would have stayed home.

Conclusion: In the above example Jack is, theoretically speaking, aware of his actual situation in a sense. However, he lacks practical wisdom or phronesis (φρόνησις). Note that lack of knowledge in practical wisdom, according to virtue ethics, necessarily involves ignorance of what is truly good. After all, Socrates would say, Jack’s act comes from his ignorance. Hence, we cannot really say that he voluntarily engaged in wrongdoing. A natural assumption, then, is to conclude that Socrates’ remedy for such individuals as Jack is to acquire phronesis to prevent future undesirable state of affairs.

(1) Aristotle, NE, 1145b 22-25

Aristotle's point of view on Akrasia

Aristotle believes that akrasia (also see) is one of the three moral states that should be avoided. (1) Aristotle construes akrasia as a sort of softness which is neither identical with virtue nor wickedness. The akratic person is aware of the fact that what she does is bad and blameworthy, she nonetheless does it as a result of passions. Contrary to Socrates, Aristotle asserts that there are people who have some knowledge and judge rightly, they nevertheless behave in an undesirable manner. (2) Aristotle finds Socrates’ claim against observed facts and draws a distinction between two kinds of knowledge to tackle the Socratic stance. Aristotle asks: “if [the akratic] acts by reason of ignorance, what is the manner of his ignorance?” (3) He attempts to answer Socrates by creating a fine nuance in the definition of knowledge. Aristotle further mentions that the akratic person had, before committing an akratic act, an ethically correct dispositional belief about that situation. (4)

Aristotle continues his discussion of akrasia by dividing it into two general categories: impetuosity [προπέτεια] and weakness [ἀσθένεια]. (5) The appetite or strong desire for anger and pleasure may lead respectively to impetuosity and weakness. Note that the strong desire for pleasure and anger are among the passions that Aristotle employs to exemplify akrasia in Book VII of Nicomachean Ethics. Hence, Aristotle recognizes that the akratic is under severe influence of his passions. This is particularly manifest in this passage:

“But there is a sort of man [the akratic] who is carried away as a result of passions and contrary to the right rule-a man whom passion masters so that he does not act according to the right rule…” (6)

The person suffering from impetuosity doesn’t usually reason nor deliberate before her akratic act. Aristotle describes such individuals by way of analogy:

“Anger seems to listen to argument to some extent, but to mishear it, as do hasty servants who run out before they have heard the whole of what one says, and then muddle the order”. (7)

One who suffers from weakness, in contrast, reasons correctly and deliberates before acting, however he doesn’t perform according to his better judgement. George, in my first example, appears to suffer from this kind of akrasia.

Thus far, in this section, I have roughly explained how Aristotle construes akrasia. I also mentioned that passions play a motivating role in akrasia. According to Aristotle, although passions cannot overpower knowledge, they may result in a ‘simultaneous intellectual failure’. (8) The akratic agent, in effect, fails to grasp the ‘minor premise’ of the practical syllogism.

Notes

(1) Aristotle, NE, Book VII, 1145a 15-17. The other two moral states that Aristotle mentions in this passage are vice and brutishness.

(2) ibid, 1145b 21

(3) ibid, 1145b 29

(4) This is in accordance with George’s situation. (page 4 of this paper, lines 6 to 9)

(5) Kraut briefly talks about this in 'Aristotle's Ethics', The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.

(6)Aristotle, NE, Book VII, 1151a 20

(7) Aristotle, NE, 1149a 25

(8) M. C. Nussbaum, Love’s Knowledge, p. 79. The content of the next section is mainly based on Nussbaum’s arguments in her book.

Akrasia

Akrasia [ἀκρασία] is often translated as incontinence. It is the phenomenon which in ordinary language is usually referred to as weakness of will. Akrasia is said to be a deficiency of character. An akratic person usually has a good grasp of what is good and has the right kinds of ends in mind. The akratic may even give one or two good moral advices to those who are in need of advice, but she ultimately doesn’t see the main point and often acts against her better judgement. Someone suffering from akrasia possesses the ability of good reasoning, but she yields to temptation and doesn’t proceed according to her good reasoning. She is usually under severe influence of her impulses and passions [πάθος] . An akratic person, according to Richard Kraut, “experiences passions that conflict with his rational choice [and] that gives in to feeling rather than reason more often than the average person”. (1) The akratic shouldn’t be confused with a self-indulgent person. Although the self-indulgent and the akratic are both wrong when it comes to pleasure, they are wrong in different ways. The akratic agent is mainly weak, however the self-indulgent is generally considered as a type of bad person.

(1) Richard Kraut, "Aristotle's Ethics", The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.