The analogy of being is an indisputable point of Aristotle’s philosophy. Virtually all Peripatetic scholars agree that he affirms ontological pluralism—the proposition that being cannot be predicated in a univocal sense. It is the goal of this article, however, to shed light on another possible interpretation of Aristotle, namely, that his philosophy allows for the univocity of being.
To begin, I will elaborate on the distinction between univocity and analogy. In the Prior Analytics, Aristotle distinguishes between three uses of language: equivocal, analogical, and univocal statements. His point is this: consider a man named Fred. Fred enjoys baseball; it is his passion. When Fred comes home to his wife and says he used a bat to hit the ball during the ninth inning, he is not saying he bludgeoned the mammal Chiroptera to death. Nevertheless, bat is the word we use for both the animal and the sporting equipment. This is an example of equivocity: the term “bat” can be used in two different ways, despite the two having nothing in common with one another.
An analogical use of language, however, is a little trickier. Now consider a medicine, perhaps an ointment of some kind. The ointment—when applied in moderate amounts—is said to be healthy, because it is the cause of health. Yet it is not healthiness itself. Indeed, the health of the human body is separate from the health of the ointment—one is health considered as health, and the other is merely the cause of health as such. This is what Aristotle means by an analogical predication: health can be predicated of both the ointment and the body, yet in different ways.
Finally, Aristotle addresses univocal predication—the everyday use of language. When I say that I, Tyler Gnade, am a man, and that my father is a man, I mean that both of us share an aspect of our identity: manness.
Now that analogy, equivocity, and univocity have been explained, it is pertinent to clarify what Aristotle means by “being.” This is not a simple question; entire books have been written on this single topic. Roughly, however, Aristotle uses being as “that which is.” This is the sense of being handed down to him by Parmenides and Plato. Being, therefore, is just whatever is. It is the source and principle of intelligibility in the world. As such, being exhausts everything that is. Anything that exists, inasmuch as it is something, participates in being.
Therefore, when Aristotelian scholarship talks about the “analogy of being,” it refers to the position that being is used in multiple senses for different things. The being of a horse is different from the being of a man; the being of a rabbit is different from that of a dog, and so on. Indeed, Aristotle argues:
“Unity is nothing apart from being; and if, further, the substance of each thing is one in no merely accidental way, and similarly is from its very nature something that is:—all this being so, there must be exactly as many species of being as of unity.” (Aristotle, Metaphysics IV, 7, 1003b10–15)
Aristotle seems to suggest here that being is said in as many ways as there are individual things. Yet, to hold such a position is to vitiate the unity of being. Indeed, Aristotle refers to being as the “highest genera” on multiple occasions, implying that being is above species (Aristotle, Metaphysics Z, 4, 1028a20–30).
As such, this could plausibly represent a contradiction in Aristotle. How can being have a potentially unlimited number of determinations as species and still be the highest genus—beyond any determination into different ontological categories? Indeed, each of Aristotle’s ten categories themselves are determinations of being; being qua being, according to Aristotle, cannot itself be a determination.
There is yet another problem: some thinkers have recognized the difficulty entailed by analogical predication, since there must be something univocal about the concept being predicated in order for it not to collapse into complete equivocation. Thus, Aristotle’s “analogy” seems to collapse into either univocal or equivocal predication—an unwanted conclusion, to be sure. Yet paradoxically, Aristotle also seems to endorse this approach:
“So, too, there are many senses in which a thing is said to be, but all refer to one starting-point; some things are said to be because they are substances, others because they are affections of substance…” (Aristotle, Metaphysics IV, 2, 1003a33–b6)
If being has many senses, yet is used with reference to one “starting-point,” it seems plausible that Aristotle is affirming something genuinely common between beings—namely, their being as such. Could Aristotle be saying that being is used in different ways according to its various determinations? Of course, a horse is different from a man; it has a different essence. Yet they both participate in similitude on account of their being.
Now, we have to be careful in navigating the exegetical waters. Not only is analogy the putative view of almost all scholars, but there is also strong evidence for it in the Aristotelian corpus. I am by no means claiming that my interpretation is the only—or even the correct—way of viewing Aristotle’s works. That would be a foolhardy project. Yet with careful distinctions, and when evaluated from the standpoint of Platonism, I believe it is at least conceivable that Aristotle’s philosophy is compatible with the univocity of being.
The most important aspect of my interpretation of Aristotle is something he would have no doubt been aware of: Plato’s Divided Line. In Republic Book VI, Plato—through Socrates—argues that only a philosopher is fit to rule, since he alone grasps the Forms: perfectly intelligible realities from which all knowledge is derived. As such, Plato distinguishes between different kinds of intelligibility. He argues that being as such is perfectly intelligible, since all thought is in reference to something—namely, to some being. Socrates further distinguishes that not all reality is perfectly knowable:
“Now take a line which has been cut into two unequal parts, and divide each of them again in the same ratio: the lower sections will represent the visible world, and the upper the intelligible. Then compare the subdivisions in respect of their clearness and lack of clearness, and you will find that one section in the visible world consists of images. By images I mean, first, shadows, and then reflections in water and in solid, smooth, and polished bodies... The other section will consist of the originals of these images, that is, the animals around us, and all plants and the whole class of manufactured objects.” (Plato, Republic VI, 509d–510a)
These four equal subsections represent the levels of intelligibility: conjecture, belief, discursive thought, and knowledge. For Plato, whatever is and whatever is intelligible are coextensive—that is to say, being is knowledge, and knowledge is being. This is a radical idea—especially with respect to modern metaphysics. Yet it is this very formula that also ensures that the gradients of knowledge correspond with gradients of reality. Reality, therefore, is a gradient of that which is intelligible in itself (intellect or Nous, according to Plotinus) and that which is intelligible only on account of another. Things that are intelligible on account of another—per aliud—possess “less” reality than that which possesses intelligibility by itself, namely, being.
This view, when applied to Aristotle, can begin to account for the analogy of being. Indeed, substance—that which exists per se—is Aristotle’s primary metaphysical category. It is that in which everything else inheres, namely, accidents. In this sense, therefore, substance has being per se. As such, everything that is exists insofar as it receives its being from substance. Even on standard readings of Aristotle, accidents have being in a lesser, improper mode. Indeed, being is only predicated of them secundum quid.
It stands to reason, then, that Aristotle’s analogical predication can be reduced to univocal predication. This is because—just like in Plato’s Divided Line—Aristotle’s reality is a gradient. God, pure substance, is the most intelligible. He is thought thinking itself, the very essence of intellection. As such, everything that is participates in its being from this primordial cause, according to Aristotle. Thus, when Aristotle says that being is used in many senses, could he mean that the modality of being is used in many senses? It seems like a reasonable possibility.
On this account, a horse and a human are both beings, and thus participate in being as such, yet simultaneously partake in different determinations. The commonality—and the basis for analogical predication—is their unity qua beings. Indeed, it is silly to say the being of God is the same as the being of man, for God is immutable and fixed in his form, while an individual man is changing and transitory. It follows, then, that God and man share in different modalities of being: God as the source of activity and thus activity itself, and man in a participated, lesser mode.
This line of reasoning does not refute the traditional account of Aristotle’s analogical view of being, but it does invite reconsideration. If being is predicated in many ways, yet always with reference to one principle, then perhaps the multiplicity of beings reflects not a fragmentation, but a gradated unity. Aristotle may not have fully embraced univocity in the strict sense, but his metaphysics—especially when read through the lens of Platonic intelligibility—leaves open the possibility that being, at its core, is spoken of in one way.
Wow, this a great insight, Tyler. Way to go!