Instead of trying to respond to the different arguments you give, I am going to opt for instead pointing out that I do not take Haslanger to be an authority. She may be an authority for you, but she is not for me, and I don’t find her approach promising. For example, I don’t know why we should accept her dichotomy of how terms are used, why we should take it to be exhaustive, why we should frame the whole question in terms of her taxonomy, etc. At first glance it would seem that she is trying to create a taxonomy of term use in order to answer a contentious societal question about the terms ‘race’ and ‘gender,’ and as I have said recently, I think that trying to set out out general principles on the basis of a controversy is a fundamental philosophical mistake (see <
penultimate paragraph>). Haslanger's taxonomy might be more useful in that limited context.
I would opine that when someone wants to leverage a non-mutual authority on a philosophy forum what they need to do is argue that authority’s arguments rather than appeal to their authority. If you can find a way to give in your own words a “Haslangerian” critique then that would be an appropriate way to bring her into the conversation, but at the moment you are imposing her as an authority. Note too how crucially important her taxonomy is. A metaphysical taxonomy of all the mutually exclusive ways of using terms would be more or less on par with divine revelation, and to put forward such a taxonomy on the basis of authority would require a very powerful authority indeed. My favorite philosophers never even attempted such a feat (i.e. Plato, Aristotle, Aquinas...).
The thread is about Aristotle and I think it is much better to begin with Aristotle. I think he touches on the same sorts of questions in a more natural way. Let me quote the larger context of what I already quoted in EN I.4, although it is also important to read the first three chapters:
Since—to resume—all knowledge and all purpose aims at some good, what is this which we say is the aim of Politics; or, in other words, what is the highest of all realizable goods?
As to its name, I suppose nearly all men are agreed; for the masses and the men of culture alike declare that it is happiness, and hold that to “live well” or to “do well” is the same as to be “happy.”
But they differ as to what this happiness is, and the masses do not give the same account of it as the philosophers.
The former take it to be something palpable and plain, as pleasure or wealth or fame; one man holds it to be this, and another that, and often the same man is of different minds at different times,—after sickness it is health, and in poverty it is wealth; while when they are impressed with the consciousness of their ignorance, they admire most those who say grand things that are above their comprehension.
Some philosophers, on the other hand, have thought that, beside these several good things, there is an “absolute” good which is the cause of their goodness.
As it would hardly be worth while to review all the opinions that have been held, we will confine ourselves to those which are most popular, or which seem to have some foundation in reason. — Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, I.4
EN I.5 directly follows by raising epistemic considerations, not entirely unlike those that you raise via Haslanger. Chapter 6 then begins considering the concrete views of what happiness is.
Indeed, one recommendation is to abandon entirely its common usages in philosophy and substitute eudaemonia. The reason for this recommendation is important: It’s because “happiness” in English is found philosophically wanting. It doesn’t seem up to the job that we’ve asked it to do. — J
I think you are overstating this case. “Eudaimonia” is usually translated into English as “happiness,” and there is a reason for that. Let me quote Jonathan Barnes’ introduction to the Nicomachean Ethics (Penguin) for some similarities and differences:
This natural feeling of dissatisfaction with the chief thesis of the Ethics may be mitigated by a nicer attention to the Greek word eudaimonia. The standard translation, 'happiness', is by no means wholly absurd: it makes sense in most contexts of its occurrence, and it receives some degree of support on general semantic grounds. Yet it is far from adequate as a precise rendering of Aristotle's term. That is quickly shown in an abstract way: happiness, as the term is used in ordinary English, is a sort of mental or emotional state or condition; to call a man happy is (to put it very vaguely indeed) to say something about his general state of mind. Eudaimonia, on the other hand, is not simply a mental state: after setting out his analysis of eudamonia, Aristotle remarks: 'Our definition is also supported by the belief that the happy man lives and fares well; because what we have described [i.e. eudamonia is virtually a kind of good life or prosperity' (1098b21-2). To call a man eudaimon is to say something about how he lives and what he does. The notion of eudaimonia is closely tied, in a way in which the notion of happiness is not, to success: the eudaimon is someone who makes a success of his life and actions, who realizes his aims and ambitions as a man, who fulfils himself. — Jonathan Barnes, Introduction to the Nicomachean Ethics, xxxi-xxxii
I would say that Haslanger’s strongly analytic approach is inappropriate because there is a complex relation here between analysis and synthesis. Happiness is “living well or doing well,” but there is an epistemic quest built into the term insofar as “often the same person actually changes his opinion [about happiness].” Happiness simultaneously represents a unity and a multiplicity. Everyone aims for happiness, and yet they disagree as to what happiness is, or how happiness is achieved, and they at times change their minds.
What is at stake is not Haslanger’s terminological dispute, but rather that, “But when it comes to saying in what happiness consists, opinions differ, and the account given by the generality of mankind is not at all like that of the wise.” It is an argument over man's final end, not an argument over words. The idea is that everyone wants happiness and yet they disagree as to what happiness consists in. It is important to handle the subtle distinction between happiness
per se and what happiness consists in, and not to mistake disagreements over the latter for disagreements over the former. Aristotle is already talking about happiness
per se long before he introduces the actual word, namely by talking about man’s last end (and this is why it is crucial to read the chapters that precede I.4). Aquinas follows Aristotle very closely in his own treatment (
link).
Well, so far as the name goes, there is pretty general agreement. ‘It is happiness,’ say both ordinary and cultured people; and they identify happiness with living well or doing well. — Nicomachean Ethics, I.4 (tr. Thomson)
Now is Aristotle saying, < ∀x(Human(x) → DesiresHappiness(x)) >? He probably does believe this, but he doesn’t commit himself to the claim. Why not? Presumably because trying to place the inductive conclusion beyond dispute is beside the point. If someone wants to dispute the universality of the claim then Aristotle would presumably say, “My book is not for you. Have a nice day.” There is really no point in arguing with them. (I think Aristotle would be much more interested in observing people who do not seek happiness
in their actions. I don’t think there are such people, and I suppose one could argue that this is because they destroyed themselves in their quest to live and do poorly, but that strikes me as farfetched.)
But we could still ask whether such a person is saying something true. Do they want to live well and do well, or not? Probably they do and they are just confused or contrarian. The question is whether they want to be happy; it is not a semantic quibble about whether they are willing to adopt this or that word.
Speakers aren’t (usually) making mistakes. My character Pat doesn’t want to be happy, on either a descriptive or a conceptual understanding of the term. — J
It seems to me that the first problem here is a conflation between real people and fictitious characters, and we’ve been over that before. Fictitious characters are not infallible about their desires. And even if your fictional characters are based on real people, they remain somewhat fictitious insofar as they are not present and available for dialogue. It becomes a kind of argument from authority by proxy, where you speak for someone who is not present and who I am not allowed to contradict.
The second problem is that your claims about your fictitious characters seem incorrect, and that is what I argued in my reply. For example, your fictitious Pat said, “I wouldn't trade one minute of my unhappiness for a fool's paradise of Smiley Faces.” I said:
It sounds like you're asking Pat if he wants to be happy at the cost of naivete, and he says no. Naivete is for him a very pronounced form of unhappiness. — Leontiskos
Pat has obviously interpreted your question about happiness as a question about “a fool’s paradise of Smiley Faces.” He says he doesn’t want that fool’s paradise. Does it follow that he doesn’t want to live well or do well? Surely not. Like Aristotle, he doesn’t think that happiness consists in what others say it consists in.
Now I think there are people who despair of happiness and no longer really seek it, but it does not follow that they do not desire it, and even then they still seek out some small measure of it. I think the more central objection is really the objection that the idea of happiness (or also goodness) is equivocal to the point of uselessness, or as Aristotle says:
However, in the case of human beings at any rate, they show no little divergence. The same things delight one set of people and annoy another; what is painful and detestable to some is pleasurable and likeable to others. — Nicomachean Ethics, 1176a10, tr. Thompson
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Let me comment on just one part of your Haslanger section:
“in our culture” the word is used to pick out certain psychological states — J
Are they saying that they don’t believe psychological ease is enumerated among happy states by language users in our culture? — J
A large part of the problem is that you are preferring a secondary definition of happiness.
Merriam-Webster gives:
- 1a. A state of well-being and contentment: joy
- 1b. A pleasurable or satisfying experience
Contrary to your claim,
eudamonia is not eclipsed in English. In fact something close is still the primary definition of happiness, where wellbeing is involved (1a). There is a more transient and superficial sense (1b) but it is not primary. Long-term, sustainable happiness is still part of the English lexicon. If you wish to talk about happiness as something in the same genus as, “a fool's paradise of Smiley Faces,” then you are preferring an English sense that is both contrary to Aristotle’s term and also is not the primary English sense. This seems to be a quibble over words rather than a substantial objection. In any case, the Aristotelian context of the OP suffices for determining something like 1a rather than something like 1b. It should not be hard to understand what Aristotle means by ‘happiness,’ and his usage is not at all foreign to English speakers.