Skip to main content

The best metaphor for the human soul

Aristotle spoke of the soul as the first activity (activity is an English translation of the Greek word entelecheia--a word made up by Aristotle to signify an activity done for the sake of the doer and which tends to be continuous) of a body suitably organized for life.  There is a metaphor in play here: for an activity is, in our everyday usage, something we do in virtue of our already being alive.  That sort of activity can't be, of course, that which makes us alive.  But I suppose that Aristotle is making an analogy rather than being poetically metaphorical: he sees something in human nature that is difficult to name directly, but which operates like something else for which we already have a name. That is, the soul of a person or other organism is to the body of that person (or other sort of organism) in a manner analogous to how the activity of a person is to their readiness, disposition to act. You still have the problem or paradox that the second term in this analogy--the disposition or readiness to act--presupposes what is to be explained.  I think that problem can be managed, but I want to set aside that problem for now and pursue a different line of questioning regarding this analogy.

What if we specify the activity in that metaphor: what if we look for an activity that best sheds light on what it is that makes us human?  Surely, it should be an activity proper to human beings...

How about the use of words?  For the meaning of words  seem to animate the words themselves (waxing phenomenological or poetic here--not sure which).

And what word or words?

How about asking the question "Why?"  That is, isn't the asking of this word animated, as it were, by a desire that drives a process of inquiry?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Dembski's "specified compexity" semiotics and teleology (both ad intra and ad extra)

Integral to Dembski's idea of specified complexity (SC) is the notion that something extrinsic to evolution is the source of the specification in how it develops. He compares SC to the message sent by space aliens in the movie "Contact." In that movie, earthbound scientists determine that radio waves originating in from somewhere in our galaxy are actually a signal being sent by space aliens. The scientists determine that these waves are a signal is the fact that they indicate prime numbers in a way that a random occurrence would not. What is interesting to me is the fact that Dembski relies upon an analogy with a sign rather than a machine. Like a machine, signs are produced by an intelligent being for the sake of something beyond themselves. Machines, if you will, have a meaning. Signs, if you will, produce knowledge. But the meaning/knowledge is in both cases something other than the machine/sign itself. Both signs and machines are purposeful or teleological

continuing the discussion with Tim in a new post

Hi Tim, I am posting my reply here, because the great blogmeister won't let me put it all in a comment. Me thinks I get your point: is it that we can name and chimps can't, so therefore we are of greater value than chimps? Naming is something above and beyond what a chimp can do, right? In other words, you are illustrating the point I am making (if I catch your drift). My argument is only a sketch, but I think adding the ability to name names, as it were, is still not enough to make the argument seem cogent. For one can still ask why we prefer being able to name over other skills had by animals but not by humans. The objector would demand a more convincing reason. The answer I have in mind is, to put it briefly, that there is something infinite about human beings in comparison with the subhuman. That "something" has to do with our ability to think of the meaning of the cosmos. Whereas one might say"He's got the whole world in His han

particular/universal event/rule

While listening to a recorded lecture on Quine's Two Dogmas of Empiricism, it occurred to me that every rule is in a way, a fact about the world. Think about baseball: from the p.o.v. of an individual player, a baseball rule is not a thing but a guide for acting and interpreting the actions of others.  But this rule, like the action it guides, is part of a concrete individual --i.e., part of an institution that has come into existence at a particular place and time, has endured and  may eventually go out of existence.  The baseball rule, as a feature of that individual, is likewise individual.  The term "baseball rule," on the one hand, links us to a unique cultural event; it can, on the other hand, name a certain type of being.  In this way, it transgresses the boundary between proper and common noun. If there were no such overlap, then we might be tempted to divide our ontology between a bunch of facts "out there" and a bunch of common nouns "in here.&qu