Populism from an Elite Man

Lasch, Christopher.  The Revolt of the Elites and the Betrayal of Democracy.  New York: W.W. Norton, 1996.

 

Just reflecting on the state of things today; took a recommendation from Ross Douthat (see here).  Yes, Lasch’s text has its limitations (partly from its format, which is a bit of a per accidens stitching-together of articles at some points, especially as you work through the text).  However, I like his vinegar on the whole.  He is an interesting case—coming from rather good stock (a Rhodes Scholar father and a philosopher mother), he breathes a particular kind of populism.  Certainly not the same populism as that which has swept over our nation today.  Nonetheless, a populism that makes some salient points.  I find his narrative more amenable than Vance’s Hillbilly Elegy, which I have glanced at as my wife has been reading it of late.  Perhaps it hits too close to home; I need to read it when she is done… It feels a bit patronizing though.

Lasch, in contrast, is just vituperative—and I think that certain parties need some vituperative reminders that the world of contemporary culture (and contemporary standards of “excellence”) are actually worthless—worthless.  But, then again, my dear Jacques Maritain wrote Antimoderne.  An unfortunate title; but still a worthwhile enterprise in many ways.  We have our own tribalisms today… Lasch lashes out at some of them—though he and I don’t agree on all points.  Still, a worthy read on the whole; prophetic if you remember that it’s 20 years old.  (Then again, that is not long ago—despite what certain superficial journal-peddling academic sophists may tell you.)

Some fun excerpts; my comments are in brackets; bold emphasis added:

“Thanks to the decline of old money and the old-money ethic of civic responsibility [he is not wholly rosy in an early passage, though], local and regional loyalties are sadly attenuated today.  The mobility of capital and the emergence of a global market contribute to the same effect.  The new elites, which include not only corporate managers but all those professions that produce and manipulate information—the lifeblood of the global market—are far more cosmopolitan, or at least more restless and migratory, than their predecessors.  Advancement in business and the professions, these days, requires a willingness to follow the siren call of opportunity wherever it leads.  Those who stay at home forfeit the chance of upward mobility [but not the chance to be wise in stability, an old monastic virtue].  Success has never been so closely associated with mobility, a concept that figured only marginally in the nineteenth century definition of opportunity (cf. ch. 3, ‘Opportunity in the Promised Land’).  Its ascendancy in the twentieth century is itself an important indication of the erosion of the democratic ideal, which no longer envisions a rough equality of condition but merely the selective promotion of non-elites into the professional-managerial class.

Ambitious people understand, then, that a migratory way of life is the price of getting ahead.  It is a price they gladly pay, since they associate the idea of home with intrusive relatives and neighbors, small-minded gossip, and hidebound conventions.  The new elites are in revolt against ‘Middle America,’ as they imagine it: a nation technologically backward, politically reactionary, repressive in its sexual morality, middlebrow in its tastes, smug and complacent, dull and dowdy.  Those who covet membership in the new aristocracy of brains tend to congregate on the coasts, turning their back on the heartland and cultivating ties with the international market in fast-moving money, glamour, fashion, and popular culture.  It is a question whether they think of themselves as Americans at all.  Patriotism, certainly, does not rank very highly on their hierarchy of virtues.  ‘Multiculturalism,’ on the other hand, suits them to perfection, conjuring up the agreeable image of a global bazaar in which exotic cuisines, exotic styles of dress, exotic music, exotic tribal customs can be savored indiscriminately, with no questions asked and no commitments required.  The new elites are at home only in transit, en route to a high-level conference, to the grand opening of a new franchise, to an international film festival, or to an undiscovered resort.  Theirs is essentially a tourist’s view of the world—not a perspective likely to encourage a passionate devotion to democracy” (5-6).

 

“The thinking classes are fatally removed from the physical side of life—hence their feeble attempt to compensate by embracing a strenuous regimen of gratuitous exercise.  Their only relation to productive labor is that of consumers.  They have no experience of making anything substantial and enduring.  [Meditate on this last sentence.  It is a bit over-the-top; but there is a truth to it.]” (20)  Continue on for some other good things on this page if you desire.

 

“To refer everything to a ‘plurality of ethical commitments’ means that we make no demands on anyone and acknowledge no one’s right to make any demands on ourselves.  The suspension of judgment logically condemns us to solitude.  Unless we are prepared to make demands on one another, we can enjoy only the most rudimentary kind of common life” (88).  This is repeated, in a way, on page 107.

 

“Respect is not another word for tolerance or the appreciation of ‘alternative lifestyles and communities.’  This is a tourist’s approach to morality.  Respect is what we experience in the presence of admirable achievements, admirably formed characters, natural gifts put to good use.  It entails the exercise of discriminating judgment, not indiscriminate acceptance” (89).

[This is well compared to Sandel’s remarks of late:]

“But individuals cannot learn to speak for themselves at all, much less come to an intelligent understanding of their happiness and well-being in a world in which there are no values except those of the market.  Even liberal individuals require the character forming discipline of the family, the neighborhood, the school, and the church, all of which (not just the family) have been weakened by the encroachments of the market.  The market notoriously tends to universalize itself.  It does not easily coexist with institutions that operate according to principles antithetical to itself: schools and universities, newspapers and magazines, charities, families.  Sooner or later, the market tends to absorb them all.  It puts an almost irresistible pressure on every activity to justify itself in the only terms it recognizes: to become a business proposition, to pay its own way, to show black ink on the bottom line.  It turns news into entertainment, scholarship into professional careerism, social work into the scientific management of poverty.  Inexorably it remodels every institution in its own image” (98).

 

"Market mechanisms will not repair the fabric of public trust. On the contrary, the market's effect on the cultural infrastructure is just as corrosive as that of the state” (101)

 

117-128: Conversation and the civic arts; this is a really good section on the whole.  It gives one a sense of how learning to converse is an art absolutely necessary for being a citizen; and how we have lost this in some important ways.  I’m sure that there are some very interesting thoughts others have had on cognate issues of late, given the pressures of the internet in the 20 years since Lasch wrote.

 

“History has given way to an infantilized version of sociology, in obedience to the misconceived principle that the quickest way to engage children’s attention is to dwell on what is closest to home: their families; their neighborhoods; the local industries; the technologies on which they depend.  A more sensible assumption would be that children need to learn about faraway places and olden times before they can make sense of their immediate surroundings.  Since most children have no opportunity for extended travel, and since travel in our world is not very broadening anyway, the school can provide a substitute—but not if it clings to the notion that the only way to ‘motivate’ them is to expose them to nothing not already familiar, nothing not immediately applicable to themselves” (159).

 

“Until we have to defend our opinions in public, they remain opinions in Lippmann’s pejorative sense—half-formed convictions based on random impressions and unexamined assumptions.  It is the act of articulating and defending our views that lifts them out of the category of “opinions,” gives them shape and definition, and makes it possible for others to recognize them as a description of their own experience as well.  In short, we come to know our own minds only by explaining ourselves to others” (170).

 

“The press extends the scope of debate by supplementing the spoken word with the written word.  If the press needs to apologize for anything, it is not that the written word is a poor substitute for the pure language of mathematics.  What matters, in this connection, is that the written word is a poor substitute for the spoken word.  It is an acceptable substitute, however, as long as written speech takes spoken speech and not mathematics as its model.  According to Lippmann, the press was unreliable because it could never give us accurate representations of reality, only ‘symbolic pictures’ and stereotypes.  Dewey’s analysis implied a more penetrating line of criticism.  As Carey put it, ‘The press, by seeing its role as that of informing the public, abandons its role as an agency for carrying on the conversation of our culture.’  Having embraced Lippmann’s ideal of objectivity, the press no longer serves to cultivate ‘certain vital habits’ in the community: ‘the ability to follow an argument, grasp the point of view of another, expand the boundaries of understanding, debate the alternative purposes that might be pursued’” (172-3).

 

“When words are used merely as instruments of publicity or propaganda, they lose their power to persuade.  Soon they cease to mean anything at all.  People lose the capacity to use language precisely and expressively or even to distinguish one word from another.  The spoken word models itself on the written word instead of the other way around, and ordinary speech begins to sound like the clotted jargon we see in printOrdinary speech begins to sound like ‘information’—a disaster from which the English language may never recover” (175).

 

There are some interesting remarks here about Freud as a moralist of sorts.  It confirms in a vague way things I often think about clinicians in psychology—that theirs truly is a practical knowledge; this is something not reflected on enough, even though it seems obvious enough.  My wife remarks that there can be an aping at scientific objectivity that is not isomorphic to the experience of a clinician.  However, I will leave that unsaid on the whole for fear of misquoting her!  As regards Lasch’s remarks, see 216ff.

 

“What makes the modern temper modern, then, is not that we have lost our childish sense of dependence but that the normal rebellion against dependence is more pervasive than it used to be.  The rebellion is not new, as Flannery O’Conner reminds us when she observes that ‘there are long periods in the lives of all of us… when the truth as revealed by faith is hideous, emotionally disturbing, downright repulsive.  Witness the dark night of the soul in individual saints.’  If the whole world now seems to be going through a dark night of the soul, it is because the normal rebellion against dependence appears to be sanctioned by our scientific control over nature, the same progress of science that allegedly destroyed religious superstition.

Those wonderful machines that science has enabled us to construct have not eliminated drudgery, as Oscar Wilde and other false prophets so confidently predicted, but they have made it possible to imagine ourselves as masters of our fate.  In an age that fancies itself as disillusioned, this is the one illusion—the illusion of mastery—that remains as tenacious as ever.  But now that we are beginning to grasp the limits of our control over the natural world, it is an illusion—to invoke Freud once again—the future of which is very much in doubt, an illusion more problematical, certainly, than the future of religion” (246).

 

Explicative Syllogisms

Some scholastic goodies for those who care to see it.  Dense stuff—but important distinctions regarding what is and what is not a syllogistic inference.  Used this to explain something in a footnote to a forthcoming translation of Fr. Garrigou-Lagrange's Le principe de finalité.

Austin Woodbury, Logic, The John N. Deely and Anthony Russell Collection, St. Vincent College, Latrobe, PA, p.239-241 (n.299-300).

"In every syllogism properly so-called, from one truth is inferred ANOTHER TRUTH.  Therefore, whenever by a syllogism there is not inferred a NEW TRUTH, this is a syllogism improperly so-called.  The syllogism improperly so-called is twofold, to wit: the expository syllogism and the explicative syllogism…  From the expository syllogism must be distinguished the explicative syllogism; whereof, this is an example: ‘Man is mortal.  But a rational animal is a man.  Therefore, a rational animal is mortal.’"

"Here, [the middle term] is universal, and therefore there is a true illation.  Nevertheless, it is not a syllogism properly so-called, because it does NOT infer in the conclusion another truth, i.e. a judgment other than in the premises.  For here, the conclusion expresses the same truth but explicates it BY OTHER CONCEPTS.  For these two propositions, ‘man is mortal,’ and, ‘rational animal is mortal,’ express the same truth, but the latter expresses it by more distinct concepts than the former.  Wherefore, to this is rightly given the name of EXPLICATIVE syllogism."

"In the explicative syllogism, the conclusion is IDENTICAL AS REGARDS ITSELF (quoad se) with the major but NOT AS REGARDS US (non quoad nos); and therefore, there is a formal illation, but not an objective illation.  [He cites here R.-M. Schultes, Introductio ad historiam dogmatum (Paris: Lethielleux, 1922).]"

"OBSERVE that the major [premise] and the conclusion of an explicative syllogism are in THE SAME MODE OF SAYING ‘PER SE’; otherwise, there would be had, not an explicative syllogism but a syllogism PROPERLY SO-CALLED.  In the example given above, both these propositions are IN THE SECOND MODE of saying ‘per se.’  But the case is otherwise with this syllogism: ‘A rational animal is capable of science.  But man is a rational animal.  Therefore man is capable of science.’  Here, the major [premise] is in the FOURTH mode of saying ‘per se’; otherwise, the syllogism would be employed to no purpose.  But the conclusion is in the SECOND manner of saying ‘per se.’  Wherefore this is a syllogism properly so-called."

 

Unedited Notes—ST II-II q.47 a.2 and 3 Prudence as Practical; Prudence and Knowledge of Singulars

Returning to ST II-II q.47…

Article 2: Prudence belongs to practical reason

St. Thomas’s defense of this point is rather brief.  Indeed, notice how he relies on Aristotle’s dictum regarding the prudent man’s reliance upon council.  It will be important to see, however, that counsel is more known to us but it is not the most important aspect of prudence (as has already be hinted).  Indeed, prudence’s command is incommunicable (because it is the FORM OF THE ACT ITSELF).  But in this article, Thomas is brief—counsel is about what is done toward an end; hence, it is practical because it directs the means here and now.

Ad 1: Here, Aquinas notes that prudence is wisdom for man, though not wisdom absolutely; it is wisdom about human affairs.  I think that it is important to reflect on the fact that prudence is a kind of wisdom, though lacking.  This helps to guide moral philosophy—which ultimately is subordinated to prudence (though they are formally separate affairs for a number of good reasons).  The wisdom of practice is found in HE OR SHE WHO IS GOOD.  This domain is not small either.  It pertains to all of culture, which is the order CREATED BY PRACTICAL REASON.

Ad 2: He notes here that all thought falls under prudence EXECUTIVELY but not FORMALLY; the specification of speculative reason is what is NECESSARILY TRUE; (this also helps one to understand how moral philosophy is different from prudence); One can read the first two chapters of Simon’s Practical Knowledge to great benefit on this matter

Ad 3: Notice here that he follows Nicomachean Ethics 3.3 regarding the fact that prudential matters HAVE NO FIXED WAY IN ACHIEVING THE END.  M.D. Philippe notes well how art differs in this regard (and how it is easy to confuse the two).  See L’activité artistique, vol.2.  Even when it comes to masterpieces, the desire to imitate shows that people sense the repeatability of the procedure.  (Hence, Bach discovers the art of the fugue, others follow in his wake; alas, often without the depth of perception in these matters; nonetheless, they are following a much more fixed pattern than one finds in prudential counsel)  Again, see Philippe’s excellent essay on this.

Notice how he contrasts the case of speculative reason with practical reasoning; the former gives birth to logic—a speculative art; however, there is no “speculative prudence” because there are no fixed rules;  one must not push this point the wrong way.  He is speaking of prudential command—not the moral essences involved in practical reason.  But, one understands well that one is not being speculatively prudent when one is being speculatively practical.

 

Article 3: Prudence Takes Awareness of Singulars

A remark before—annex a discussion of reflex concepts; an important topic under-addressed by Thomists.  See Woodbury’s notes on the matter for an introduction

The whole matter here is due to the fact that prudence is about application to action.  Thus, universal principles must be applied to singular, concrete actions.  [This is why prudence itself demands moral philosophy to strengthen its own grasp of universal principles (grasped by synderesis but differently used in each case?—see Simon’s remarks on Syndereis in his Critique of Moral Knowledge)]

Ad 1: Notice that this pertains to speculative reason primarily.  The way that reason grasps the singular for moral matters is different.  The cogitative power is involved, however, in both cases.  See, in addition to Woodbury, Daniel De Haan’s article on this.  There are two different sorts of reflex concepts involved—because they are two different sorts of knowing.

Ad 3: Indeed, here we see the very point adumbrated in my remarks to ad 1; prudence is in the intellect (practical intellect) as its principle subject; however, it extends to the cogitative power (here called “the interior sense”), which is perfected by memory (which stores intentions that are produced in the cogitative power).   On this, see Daniel De Haan, Woodbury, and Klubertanz

Moral Knowledge—Prudential and Philosophical (Yves Simon)

This is a favorite theme for me—one on which I intend to write at length some day.  Maritain has some very similar things to say, and, to be honest, a fair understanding of this matter would help to clarify MUCH in currently controverted discussions of moral matters.  What holds primacy in moral matters is prudence's command—hence, too, the virtues that rectify prudence with regard to the ends to be pursued.  However, we cannot address this here—as well as the important role played by our insight into first moral principles (i.e. synderesis).

In any case, Thomists tend to overlook the fact that moral philosophy is a kind of reflective science—not in the sense that logic is reflective (upon the relationes rationis that are called "second intentions") but in the sense (truly reflective) that moral philosophy reflects upon the scientific ordering found in the warp and woof of MORAL ACTION—its principles and properties.  Speculative knowledge (e.g. natural philosophy, chemistry, biology, pure mathematics, metaphysics, etc.) looks to an order that is independent of the human will (essentially, though perhaps accidentally dependent upon it, as in the case of new molecules created by our technical skills).  Moral philosophy reflects on THE ORDER FOUND IN HUMAN FREEDOM—i.e. the order that has been ordered by prudence (or, alas, imprudence) in the will's elicited and imperated acts.

Okay, now the quotes from Simon, which are very important:

Yves R. Simon, Freedom and Community, ed. Charles P. O’Donnell (New York: Fordham University Press, 1968), 144n13:

As far as action is concerned, what matters primarily is fulfillment, not explanation, and it is within an adherence firm enough to insure fulfillment that the search for explanation must be pursued... The man of practical wisdom well knows that what matters is to do what is right rather than to understand why it is right.  He also knows that what ought to be done is not really done unless it is brought into existence according to the mode proper to a rational agent...  Practical wisdom [i.e. prudence] itself requires that the science of ethics enlightens the minds of men.

On this topic, one should also consult the following in Simon's Practical Knowledge:

  • Fulfillment and Explanation (p.26-38)
  • Comments on Aristotle's remarks at the beginning of Nicomachean Ethics (p.44-47)
  • Comments on prudence and moral science as practical knowledge; but be sure to see remarks noted later on p.70 (p.50-51)
  • A very important brief point on p.51: "But moral philosophy does something that no purely theoretical science does.  It is concerned with problems of right and wrong use."  He then goes on in p.52-55 to describe the ways that moral philosophy retains the synthetic character of practical knowledge.
  • The sections on p.57-68 carry this forward in a very interesting way, in particular in his discussions on the role of judgment and concept in practical discourse
  • On p.69-70, after noting that a right prudential judgment can be speculatively wrong (a theme he uses often but one that can be found in Garrigou-Lagrange, for instance), he notes that moral philosophy is different.  In this, he almost stresses matters to the opposite point of what he has said heretofore: "In moral philosophy, a proposition that fails to agree with the real state of affairs is irretrievably false and bad; there is no redeeming feature in it.  Either it is true or it is false that some acts are wrong by essence and can never be justified.  Either moral virtues are interdependent or they are not.  If they are not, the proposition that they are is philosophically false, bad, misleading, obnoxious in every possible respect.  The truth of moral philosophy is, primarily and purely and simply, a theoretical truth.  It is a relation of conformity between what the intellect asserts or denies and what is really united or separated in the world of things.  [However, here is an important qualification:] But, as already suggested, the theoretical truth of moral philosophy, far from excluding its being true by conformity with right desire, strictly demands that it should enjoy such conformity, which is practical truth.  Consider, again, the proposition that some actions, like jealousy, admit of no just mean because they are wrong by essence.  Such a proposition certainly agrees with right desire, and a man of good character, no matter how ignorant he may be of moral philosophy, will keep away from such actions, and never dream of a moderate does of jealousy which would be the proper mean between excess and defect.  Any proposition of moral philosophy that would not agree with right desire would be immoral and false.  But, within moral philosophy, this truth by agreement with right desire is a pure consequence of theoretical or unqualified truth.  It is not characteristic of moral philosophy; it does not belong to it in strict appropriateness.  Insofar as truth by conformity to the real state of affairs is described as the truth of the theoretical intellect, and truth by conformity to right desire as the truth of the practical intellect, moral philosophy is the work of the theoretical intellect.”  [The claim is pretty strong.  I continually think that speculatively practical truth has its own unique constitution.]
  • He continues on p.70 with some good remarks about the hazy status of most arguments that claim to be moral philosophical; this continues on into the next section as well
 

 

 

Unedited notes—ST II-II q.47 a.1: How Is Prudence Cognitive? (Some related texts included)

Of Prudence, Considered in Itself (ST II-II q.47) and related texts

These notes are taken from Aquinas, ST II-II q.47.  They are meant to be summaries and are based on my own current reflections.

Article 1: Prudence is in the Intellect

Basing himself on a remark by Isidore of Seville, Thomas notes that prudence gives us a way of seeing from afar, obviously speaking metaphorically.  It is a cognitive activity—“to obtain knowledge of the future from knowledge of the present or past”; it is “done by a process of comparison.”  Notice the fact that prudence enables us to see the future—indeed, as we will see, it enables us to COMMAND the future to come into existence by molding human liberty.  (Command is the primary act of prudence, as we will see.)  It is about setting human freedom in right order.  (Hence too, PRUDENCE HELPS TO BRING THE NATURAL LAW INTO EXISTENCE, for ordering pertains to law.)

You will see, however, that there are VERY important ways that the will is involved in prudence

ad 1: Love moves to the act of prudence; indeed, we will see that the causality of will and intellect are related in important ways (causae sunt invicem causae); see Garrigou-Lagrange in Dieu; also, Maritain in Existence and the Existent

ad 2: Here, he discusses the relation between counsel and choice; one should go back to ST I-II to read at length what is said there in the general treatment of the acts of the practical intellect

ad 3: Prudence is not related to thought only but to action; he differentiates this from art, though we need to be careful here, for art is still in an operative habitus; however, it is more about judging than about commanding, hence it is not directly about the actual effectuation of activity.  To this end, we need to visit ST I-II q.57 a.3-6

 

(Aside: ST I-II q.57 a.3: Art is an intellectual virtue)

Art = “the right reason about certain works to be made”; it is important to note that it is practical—it is directive of something NEW TO BE FORMED AND SHAPED IN THE WORLD

It is different from prudence because it depends upon the WORK TO BE MADE—it is the GOOD OF THE WORK that is the GOOD OF ART; hence, as Maritain well notes, there is a battle often between art and prudence; Art requires the artist to bring his or her will into line not with the fitting good of human life but the fitting good of the art in question—YET, NONETHELESS, the artist must be a GOOD MAN in addition to being a GOOD ARTIST; there are some profound things in Art and Scholasticism on this topic.

Notice, though, again: IT IS AN OPERATIVE HABIT

It is akin to SPECULATIVE HABITS in that it is primarily QUALITATIVE in nature, giving the artist an APTNESS TO WORK WELL but not RECTITUDE IN APPETITE.  (Hence, a great artist can even sin against his artwork, to show his or her excellence; likewise, a great artist can bring forth great beauty and not sin against art but, nonetheless, sin against being a man.)  Simon treats this well; they are also treated in ad 1 and 2, though regarding ad 1 (and the unfailingness of art as such), see Maritain in Art and Scholasticism (I believe)

 

Ad 3 Has some interesting points regarding liberal arts—but one must be VERY careful in these matters.  Rational order is not the same as technical order.  Likewise, one needs to make careful precisions regarding the mathematical disciplines.  To be honest, the liberal arts are sometimes studied in an “art-ish” way and sometimes in a speculative way (i.e. by resolution to principles); this likely specifies two different formal objects.  (The treatment of logica docens vs. logica utens only partially addresses this distinction; Aquinas develops on the point, but one really should consult the later Thomists to get better clarity.  Notes are available to those interested.)  One needs to consult numerous texts on this and also note that Aquinas just may not have given us more than a lot of little droplets on these topics.  (Cf. Tedesco’s work on this in Italian and English.)  Also, note Aquinas’s words: “On the other hand, those sciences which are not ordained to any such like work, are called sciences simply, and not arts. Nor, if the liberal arts be more excellent, does it follow that the notion of art is more applicable to them.”

 

(Aside: ST I-II q.57 a.4: The distinction of prudence and art)

This is very important.  M-D Philippe, in L’Activité Artistique, vol. 2 has some excellent remarks that supplement some of the more standard accounts.

 

Notice—Qualitative aptness and aptness for use (Simon: Existential readiness)

Art only provides the first one; it doesn’t perfect the will.

He bases the reason on the definitions of art and prudence: The reason for this difference is that art is the "right reason of things to be made"; whereas prudence is the "right reason of things to be done."  Prudence is immanent in a way that art is not—art passes out into the thing that is made.  (This is important in discussions of esse morale, which is first executively in the will so directed, then derivatively in the external reality enveloped in the various acts, though prior in apprehension—causae sunt invicem causae; one must parse these matters very carefully.  One should see ST I-II q.19 and 20; Ripperger’s treatment; Sokolowsk’s reflections are helpful in Moral Action; Woodbury’s notes deserve to be published—YET AGAIN; Lehu summarizes)

Okay, now returning to the article in question—THIS IS AN IMPORTANT TEXT REGARDING THE NEED FOR RECTITUDE OF WILL FOR PRUDENCE TO FUNCTION.  THIS IS BECAUSE THE ENDS ARE NEEDED, AND AS WE WILL SEE, THEY WILL COME FROM THE MORAL VIRTUES

BECAUSE THE THING ITSELF TO BE MADE is the measure of art, the will need not be rectified.  Hence, the standard example of sinning against art willingly.

Ad 1 is interesting and potentially problematic; it must be referring to art IN GENERAL; however, it should be read as leaving room for specific kinds of art.  There are MANY, MANY formal objects…

Ad 2 According to subject and matter, they are like.  Indeed, they are “about things that may be otherwise than they are.”  (Indeed, the inventiveness of man shines in art and prudence.)  However, AS VIRTUES, art is more speculative.  (This has some profound implications, as Maritain has shown.)

Ad 3—Read this in conjunction with discussions of imperfect prudence; in particular, notice how he moves back and forth between art and “prudence” when considering these kinds of non-ultimate ends; the ambiguity is important though

 

(Aside: ST I-II q.57 a.5: Prudence is a most necessary virtue for human life)

He focuses here on choice; command is most important.  Here, though note this—two things needed for choice’s rectitude:

1.     Due end

2.     Something ordered to that end

Virtue provides the first—This is why it is a TRAVESTY that Thomists don’t just play out this dynamic carefully.  We’ll see the same point when we get to ST II-II q.47 a.6-7.  The interplay of LOVE OF THE FITTING GOOD and the DIRECTION TO THAT GOOD is very profound.  Here is the heart of Thomas’s treatment of the moral life if rightly treated.

Ad 1: Notice again the focus on the fact that the good of art is found IN THE WORK MADE.  We have such deep respect for the man who sacrifices himself for art, even if that respect is not moral.

Notice the immanent activity of prudence; some other things in here that are standard but good reiterations on the distinction between art and prudence

ad 2 Remarks about receiving counsel from others; One should write an entire study just on the psychology of counsel and judgment in moral learning / development

INDEED—AS MORAL REASONING PASSES MORE AND MORE TOWARD THE AFFECTIVE ELECTION AND COMMANDING OF ACTS TO BE DONE, ONE INTERIORIZES THE CONSEL OF OTHERS.  THE PEDAGOGY OF LAW IS SAVED FROM BEING EXTRINSIC PRECISELY BECAUSE A PRUDENT MAN WILL ASK FOR COUNSEL WHEN HE KNOWS THAT HE DOES NOT HAVE ALL THE DETAILS, SO TO SPEAK.

Ad 3: This is an utterly important locus for the discussion for PRACTICAL TRUTH AND SPECULATIVE TRUTH.  Indeed, one could make related remarks regarding PRACTICAL SIGNS and SPECULATIVE SIGNS.  Note, that the TRUTH OF DIRECTING is different also for ART and PRUDENCE.

Speculative truth: Conformity between intellect and thing (read Simon / Maritain / esp. Woodbury if you want to understand this correctly)

(Because of contingent matters involved in practical intellection…; few ever felt this point as did Maritain, Simon, and also, Garrigou-Lagrange; cf. Cajetan, also, various commentaries on this point in Cajetan, who felt these problems deeply against Scotist pressures)

Practical truth = Conformity with right appetite

And it is primarily DIRECTIVE; only then do we quasi-reflectively explain it in signified act.  A full phenomenology of this would help to eliminate many problems experienced by Thomists regarding practical knowledge and moral science.

            More could be said regarding the relationship between artistic-truth and moral-truth; As always, see Simon in particular

 

(Aside: ST I-II q.57 a.6: Euboulia, synesis, and gnome)

Here, we have an important inkling regarding the role of command in prudence; indeed it is command that gives the fullest character to the nature of prudence.  To understand prudence, you must understand that it is always undertaking an inquiry into a command.  Notice how St. Thomas makes counsel and judgment matters of the speculative intellect (since counsel is a kind of inquiry); however, command is “proper to the practical intellect, insofar as this is ordained to operation”—an interesting point; yet, nonetheless, counsel and judgment ARE concerned with things to be commanded, so the rectitude of will involved in the latter flows over the first two acts.   Perhaps, we could say: counsel and judgment / choice pertain to practical INTELLECT whereas command pertains to PRACTICAL intellect

But that is me interpreting this interesting passage. 

Eubolia: Perfecting counsel; deliberating well

Synesis: Judges on a common law (akin to how dialectics—cf. Topics—inquires into all matters)

Gnome: Bases its judgment on Natural Law (as proper principles)—We will revisit this in ST II-II q.51 a.4; it will have some VERY important implications regarding our KNOWLEDGE OF THE NATURAL LAW, a topic with which Maritian struggled valiantly though only coming to the edges of the full solution, I think.

The treatment of Synesis and Gnome is taken from ad 3

Ad 2: As regards my interpretation of the relation of the various acts (and being careful about the “speculative” component), this complete response should be read: “Judgment about what is to be done is directed to something further: for it may happen in some matter of action that a man's judgment is sound, while his execution [i.e. command] is wrong. The matter does not attain to its final complement until the reason has commanded aright in the point of what has to be done.”

Bartolomé de las Casas, In Defense of the Indians

Bartolomé de las Casas,  In Defense of the Indians, trans. Stafford Poole (DeKalb, IL: Northern Illinois University Press, 1992).

As always, I am a touch behind (and have been reading other things).  However, taking notes is not always advantageous to the busyness of life... However, as I cited this elsewhere, I thought it would be edifying.  I am convinced that a true Thomistic treatment of art must be a Philosophy of Making.  M.-D. Philippe had some good points to say about this but, alas, he succumbed also to the temptation that always faces the philosopher—talk about the loftiest realities.  The best place to start is not in the fine arts but, instead, in the mechanical arts.  They are all around us.  Alas, though, philosophers are always marked by their aristocratic tendencies—and their slightly snobbish detachment from day-to-day realities.  However, this is merely accidental... A product, likely, of being professors and children of professors....

(Be sure to see my note at the end of the quote, however.)

From chapter 4:

Furthermore, [the natives] are so skilled in every mechanical art that with every right they should be set ahead of all the nations of the known world on this score, so beautiful in in their skill and artistry are the things this people produces in the grace of its architecture, its painting, and its needlework.  But [Juan Ginés de] Sepúlveda [against whom Bartholomé is arguing] despises these mechanical arts, as if these things do not reflect inventiveness, ingenuity, industry, and right reason.  For a mechanical art is an operative habit of the intellect that is usually defined as “the right way to make things, directing the acts of reason, through which the artisan proceeds in orderly fashion, easily, and unerringly in the very act of reason.”*  So these men are not stupid, Reverend Doctor.  Their skillfully fashioned works of superior refinement awaken the admiration of all nations, because works proclaim a man’s talent, for, as the poet says, the work commends the craftsman.  Also, Prosper [of Aquitaine] says, “See, the maker is proclaimed by the wonderful signs of his works and the effects, too, sing of their author.”

* Note: The translator of the text notes that this seems to be a "very free or erroneous citation" of Aristotle's Posterior Analytics.  Actually, it is a slight mistake by the original author, who use the definition of logic provided by Aquinas in his commentary on Aristotle's Posterior Analytics.  The full context from which this is taken reads (in Fabian Larcher's translation):

As the Philosopher says in Metaphysics I (980b26), 'the human race lives by art and reasonings.' In this statement the Philosopher seems to touch upon that property whereby man differs from the other animals. For the other animals are prompted to their acts by a natural impulse, but man is directed in his actions by a judgment of reason. And this is the reason why there are various arts devoted to the ready and orderly performance of human acts. For an art seems to be nothing more than a definite and fixed procedure established by reason, whereby human acts reach their due end through appropriate means.
Now reason is not only able to direct the acts of the lower powers but is also director of its own act: for what is peculiar to the intellective part of man is its ability to reflect upon itself. For the intellect knows itself. In like manner reason is able to reason about its own act. Therefore just as the art of building or carpentering, through which man is enabled to perform manual acts in an easy and orderly manner, arose from the fact that reason reasoned about manual acts, so in like manner an art is needed to direct the act of reasoning, so that by it a man when performing the act of reasoning might proceed in an orderly and easy manner and without error.