The point of Aristotle's Ethics

Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics is one of the most famous and influential works of ethics in the history of ideas. It has earned this status because of its reflections on important questions: what is virtue? What is the value of friendship? And more. In addition, Aristotle also reflects on the nature of ethical inquiry in the first place.

It’s natural to think that we engage in ethical inquiry — asking questions about what is good, what is bad, what is right, and what is wrong — because we are curious about the answers to these questions. After all, that curiosity leads people to take philosophy classes and read books; it is also at the heart of other branches of philosophical inquiry, such as when we ask about what knowledge is or what a mind is. But Aristotle thinks that the goal of ethical inquiry is not knowledge.

In fact, he thinks that the goal is action instead.

He says so very clearly in the third chapter of the first book of the Nicomachean Ethics: the goal of ethical (and political) inquiry is action.

We should undertake inquiry into ethics because we want to live better lives.

For this reason, Aristotle thinks that young people are not suitable students of ethics. Even if they approach ethics with an eye on living better lives, Aristotle thinks that, fundamentally, they’re just not going to change their ways in accordance with whatever they learn. So, they’re not right for an inquiry that is designed to change our behavior.

As he puts it:

Moreover, since he [that is, the young person] tends to follow his feelings, his study will be futile and useless; for the aim [of ethics] is action, not knowledge (NE I.3 1095a2-3).

Aristotle’s commitment to the point of ethics being action goes that deep. If you’re not willing to change your ways, this investigation is just going to be useless and futile for you. So much for the possibility that you might read the Nicomachean Ethics out of curiosity!

This commitment goes even deeper, too.

That’s because Aristotle thinks that there is a sense in which it’s impossible for knowledge to be the result of this inquiry. I don’t mean that we should be skeptics; I mean that exact, precise knowledge of what’s right and what’s wrong isn’t even possible. So, the idea that we engage in ethics because we want to know goes right out the window.

Aristotle thinks that we need to satisfy ourselves with the level of exactitude and precision that a subject matter allows for. For instance, math allows a very high level of precision and exactitude. After all, if I add up 2.5 and 2, I don’t have to satisfy myself with knowing that the answer is 4-ish. I can know that the answer is 4.5 exactly.

This is not the case with ethics.

Let’s say that I want to know whether it’s cowardly for a person to run away from a robber at a gas station. That’s an important ethical question, really: in such a difficult situation, what should you do? Stand your ground? Or run away?

The problem is that the answer is ‘it depends.’ According to Aristotle, it depends on details that the case, as I laid it out, doesn’t specify. The most pertinent details concern you and the robber. Is the robber armed? If so, with what? Are you armed? If so, with what? How proficient are you with the weapon that you have?

I can illustrate this with an example. If you are a 90-year-old grandma, hiding from the robber is not cowardly. Nobody would blame an old woman for hiding from a robber. But if you’re a soldier armed to the teeth, hiding seems a lot more blameworthy and a lot more cowardly.

So, it looks like it does depend. This dooms anyone who thinks that the answers to ethical questions can be spelled out in precise, exact terms.

If you disagree, reflect on this: is there a duty to stand your ground, or not? We know that Aristotle says ‘it depends’, but if there is such a duty, what should you do if you have a face-to-face interaction with a tyrannosaurus rex? Maybe running away is the right thing to do; it sure seems like it! It seems to make a big difference whether you’re up against a dinosaur or a chihuahua! Aristotle’s position is built on the idea that the difference matters; hence, his view that ‘it depends’.

I’ve been using courage and cowardice in my examples, but the same goes for other ethical questions, too.

Should we give away 10% of our wealth to the poor, or not? Some people might say that there is a duty to do so; others might say that there is not. Aristotle says ‘it depends’. Many people can’t afford to give up 10% of their wealth at all. Meanwhile, others might well be able to give up more than 10% of their wealth. So, once again, what is right depends on details, such as how wealthy you are.

Once again, this dooms any attempt to spell out right and wrong in exact, precise terms.

The best that we might be able to do is say something vague and general along the lines of ‘give away as much money as you can afford to before you stop being able to afford basic necessities’ and ‘stand your ground when there is a realistic chance of succeeding; otherwise, run away’. (But even here, I can see nuances needing to be addressed: give your money away to whom and when? Stand your ground to protect what and whom?)

That’s different from the level of exactitude and precision that we can achieve in math, but that’s not a problem because the goal of ethical inquiry isn’t precise knowledge anyway. It’s action.

And besides, we ought to manage our expectations depending on the level of precision the subject matter permits anyway. As Aristotle says:

The education person seeks exactness in each area to the extent that the nature of the subject matter allows (NE I.3 1094b24-25).

It isn’t realistic to think that we could ever know the answers to ethical questions with a mathematical level of precision. That just isn’t the sort of thing that ethics is. If you want to know whether you should run away or stand your ground, our follow-up question should be: ‘what are the many other features of the situation?’.

If pressed for an answer, it has to be ‘it depends’.

That should disappoint us, Aristotle thinks, only if we mistakenly cling to a view of ethics as an area of research that exists alongside math and other domains in which precision is possible. Ethics isn’t like that. The point is not knowledge.

Douglas R. Campbell is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Philosophy at Alma College. He is the author of An Introduction to the Ethics of Social Media. He is also the host of The Ancient Philosophy Podcast.

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