Revolutionary Aristotelianism Ethics Resistance And Utopia Kelvin Knight Editor Paul Blackledge Editor

Revolutionary Aristotelianism Ethics Resistance
And Utopia Kelvin Knight Editor Paul Blackledge
Editor download
https://ebookbell.com/product/revolutionary-aristotelianism-
ethics-resistance-and-utopia-kelvin-knight-editor-paul-
blackledge-editor-51111222
Explore and download more ebooks at ebookbell.com

Here are some recommended products that we believe you will be
interested in. You can click the link to download.
Virtue And Politics Alasdair Macintyres Revolutionary Aristotelianism
Paul Blackledge Editor
https://ebookbell.com/product/virtue-and-politics-alasdair-macintyres-
revolutionary-aristotelianism-paul-blackledge-editor-49190586
Revolutionary Life The Everyday Of The Arab Spring Asef Bayat
https://ebookbell.com/product/revolutionary-life-the-everyday-of-the-
arab-spring-asef-bayat-46126224
Revolutionary Collective Paul Le Blanc
https://ebookbell.com/product/revolutionary-collective-paul-le-
blanc-46631594
Revolutionary Applications Of Intelligent Drones Mohit Angurala
https://ebookbell.com/product/revolutionary-applications-of-
intelligent-drones-mohit-angurala-46872948

Revolutionary Demonology Gruppo Di Nun
https://ebookbell.com/product/revolutionary-demonology-gruppo-di-
nun-48103312
Revolutionary Transformations The Peoples Republic Of China In The
1950s Anja Blanke
https://ebookbell.com/product/revolutionary-transformations-the-
peoples-republic-of-china-in-the-1950s-anja-blanke-48499282
Revolutionary Time On Time And Difference In Kristeva And Irigaray
Fanny Sderbck
https://ebookbell.com/product/revolutionary-time-on-time-and-
difference-in-kristeva-and-irigaray-fanny-sderbck-48711512
Revolutionary Women Of Texas And Mexico Portraits Of Soldaderas Saints
And Subversives Kathy Sosa
https://ebookbell.com/product/revolutionary-women-of-texas-and-mexico-
portraits-of-soldaderas-saints-and-subversives-kathy-sosa-48777490
Revolutionary Beauty The Radical Photomontages Of John Heartfield 1st
Edition Sabine T Kriebel
https://ebookbell.com/product/revolutionary-beauty-the-radical-
photomontages-of-john-heartfield-1st-edition-sabine-t-kriebel-48806556

Revolutionary Aristotelianism
Ethics, Resistance and Utopia
Edited by
Kelvin Knight and Paul Blackledge
With contributions from
Alex Bavister-Gould
Ron Beadle
Paul Blackledge
Bill Bowring
Timothy Chappell
Russell Keat
Kelvin Knight
Marian Kuna
Christopher Lutz
Piotr Machura
Alasdair Maclntyre
Seiriol Morgan
Cary J. Nederman
Thomas M. Osborne Jr.
Carey Seal
Benedict Smith
@ Lucius & Lucius • Stuttgart

Editors:
Dr. Kelvin Knight
London Metropolitan University
Department of Law, Governance and International Relations
London N5 2AD
[email protected]
Dr. Paul Blackledge
Leeds Metropolitan University
School of Social Sciences
Leeds LSI 3HE
[email protected]
This publication is a special edition of Analyse & Kritik 1/08
http://www.analyse-und-kritik.net
Bibliographic information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek
The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche
Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data are available in the Internet at
http:// dnb.d-nb.de.
ISBN 978-3-8282-0442-3 (Lucius & Lucius)
© Lucius & Lucius Verlagsgesellschaft mbH Stuttgart 2008
Gerokstr. 51, D-70184 Stuttgart
www.luciusverlag.com
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form (including
photocopying or storing or transmitting it in any medium by electronic means and
whether or not transiently or incidentally to some other use of this publication) without
permission of the copyright owner except in accordance with the provisions of copyright.
Applications for the copyright owner's written permission to reproduce any part of this
publication should be addressed to the publisher.
Warning: The doing of an unauthorised act in relation to a copyright work may result in
both a civil claim for damages and criminal prosecution.
Druck und Einband: Rosch-Buch, Scheßlitz
Printed in Germany

Contents
Editorial 1
Maclntyre's Aristotelianism
Carey Seal
Maclntyre and the Polis 5
Cary
J. Nederman
Men at Work: Poesis, Politics and Labor in Aristotle and Some
Aristotelians 17
Kelvin Knight
After Tradition?: Heidegger or Maclntyre, Aristotle and Marx 33
Maclntyre's Thomism
Alex Barrister-Gould
The Uniqueness of After Virtue (or 'Against Hindsight') 55
Thomas Osborne
Maclntyre, Thomism and the Contemporary Common Good 75
Christopher Stephen Lutz
From Voluntarist Nominalism to Rationalism to Chaos:
Alasdair Maclntyre's Critique of Modern Ethics 91
Metaethics
Marian Kuna
Maclntyre's Search for a Defensible Aristotelian Ethics and the Role of
Metaphysics 103
Piotr Machura
Maclntyre's Radical Intellectualism: The Philosopher as a Moral Ideal 121
Benedict Smith
Traditional Moral Knowledge and Experience of the World 139
Seiriol Morgan
Moral Philosophy, Moral Identity and Moral Cacophony:
On Maclntyre on the Modern Self 157

The Critique of Liberalism and Capitalism
Timothy Chappell
Utopias and the Art of the Possible 179
Bill Bowring
Misunderstanding Maclntyre on Human Rights 205
Paul Blackledge
Alasdair Maclntyre's Contribution to Marxism: A Road Not Taken 215
Ron Beadle
Why Business Cannot be a Practice 229
Russell Keat
Ethics, Markets, and Maclntyre 243
Reply
Alasdair Maclntyre
What More Needs to Be Said? A Beginning, Although Only a Beginning,
at Saying It 261
Authors 282

Editorial
This special issue is composed of revisions of papers originally presented at a
conference on Alasdair Maclntyre's Revolutionary Aristotelianism: Ethics, Re-
sistance and Utopia, hosted by the Human Rights and Social Justice Research
Institute at London Metropolitan University from 29th June to 1st July 2007. In
publishing them, Analyse & Kritik demonstrates a continuing interest in Mac-
lntyre's work which began with an important symposium on After Virtue in
1984, 6(1). Now republished in a third edition, After Virtue remains central to
the understanding of his work in several of the papers below (Duckworth 2007;
as some papers deal with Maclntyre's theoretical development, reference is also
made to different editions). As in the earlier symposium, Maclntyre responds
in a way that clarifies and extends his past arguments, his present position, and
his relation to rival theories of moral, social and political practice. As the title
of his response suggests, much more remains to be said on the subjects that are
opened here.
The first group of papers refer, in ways that Maclntyre commends, to his
characterization of his philosophy as part of an 'Aristotelian' tradition of enquiry.
The origins of this tradition are illuminatingly located by Carey Seal in the
ethos
of the Greek polis. Cary Nederman, a leading historian of political thought,
carries Aristotelianism into the Middle Ages, demonstrating how the tradition
was progressed and democratized through the excision of Aristotle's aristocratic
disdain for manual workers. Similarly, Kelvin Knight argues that Maclntyre's
further development of the tradition helps it to rebut Heideggerian critique.
Maclntyre specifies that his Aristotelianism is 'Thomistic', and this is the
subject of the next group of papers. In an interpretation of Maclntyre's own
development that he vigorously contests, Alex Bavister-Gould argues that his
turn to Thomism represents a break from the argument of After Virtue. Thomas
Osborne advances a Thomist defence of modern states against Maclntyre's moral
critique of modernity, whereas a robustly Thomist defence of that critique is
mounted by Christopher
Lutz.
The third set of papers begins with another interpretation of Maclntyre's
philosophical development from After Virtue onward, in which Marian
Kuna
explains the continuity in Maclntyre's increasingly explicit acceptance of an
Aristotelian metaphysics. A more novel case for the centrality of theoretical
philosophy to Maclntyre's practical philosophy is proposed by Piotr Machura.
Both Seiriol Morgan and Benedict Smith elicit important clarifications of Mac-
lntyre's philosophical position.
Smith does so by comparing his position to that
of John McDowell, Morgan by challenging his critique of modern moral agency.
Maclntyre's critique of characteristically modern theory and practice is the
concern of the final five papers. Timothy Chappell argues that Maclntyre is
wrong to reject liberalism's account of radical disagreement, because such dis-
agreement is less peculiar to modernity than Maclntyre contends. Bill Bowring

2 Editorial
argues that the bases of many rights in popular struggles for social justice affords
grounds for the critique of capitalism, and this is an argument to which Mac-
Intyre accedes with an alacrity that some may find surprising. Paul Blackledge
points towards a reengagement with the idea that workers might possess the re-
sources for socialist resistance to capitalism through a preliminary anti-critique
of Maclntyre's mature critique of Marxism, in response to which Maclntyre of-
fers an affirmative account of his present relation to the tradition of which he
was once a leading British protagonist. A clarificatory paper by Ron Beadle, the
leading practitioner of a Maclntyrean empirics, argues that modern corporate
management, because it necessarily prioritizes external goods, can never satisfy
the criteria for what Maclntyre calls a practice. Finally, Russell Keat proposes
market socialism as a third way between the capitalism that Maclntyre opposes
and the politics of local
community for which he continues to argue.
Other papers from the conference are published in a special issue of Philos-
ophy of Management 6(3) (edited by Ron Beadle and by the target of Beadle's
critique here, Geoff Moore), and in a book, Virtue and Politics (edited, like this
issue, by Paul Blackledge and Kelvin Knight), including Maclntyre's opening
address to the conference. The event has been declared the first conference of
an International Society for Maclntyrean Philosophy. The second annual ISMP
conference will be at St. Meinrad in Indiana, and future conferences are planned
at University College Dublin and ISM University, Vilnius. The kind of interest
in Maclntyre's work that has been sustained by Analyse & Kritik looks set to
grow.
Kelvin Knight, Paul Blackledge

Maclntyre's Aristotelianism

Analyse k Kritik 30/2008 (© Lucius & Lucius, Stuttgart) p. 5-16
Carey Seal
Maclntyre and the Polis
Abstract: This paper traces Alasdair Maclntyre's account of the development of the
Greek polis as presented in A Short History of Ethics, After Virtue, and Whose Justice?
Which Rationality?. The paper argues for the centrality of Aristotle's conception of po-
litics as an architectonic art to this account. It explores the foundations of Maclntyre's
presentation of moral rationality in Homer and offers the poems of Hesiod as an aid to
understanding Maclntyre's view of the post-Homeric crisis in Greek ethics. Aristotle
is then invoked to show how Maclntyre represents the polis as a classical response to
that crisis.
Accounts of the development and nature of the Greek polis are central to the
histories of ethics offered by Alasdair Maclntyre in three of his books: A Short
History
of Ethics, After Virtue, and Whose Justice? Which Rationality?. This
paper locates the cumulative account that emerges from those books1 in the
larger context of Maclntyre's historical picture of moral tradition and in par-
ticular argues for the importance of the Aristotelian conception of politics to
understanding the way in which Maclntyre presents the history of Greek ethics
in the archaic period. Its contention is that the following passage from Whose
Justice? Which Rationality? presents a historical thesis that serves as the orga-
nizing spine for Maclntyre's treatment of Greek ethics before, during, and after
the rise of the polis:
"The only form of community which could provide itself with such a
standard [one that could adjudicate among different sorts of excel-
lence] would be one whose members structured their common life in
terms of a form of activity whose specific goal was to integrate within
itself, so far as possible, all those other forms of activity practiced
by its members and so to create and sustain as its specific goal that
form of life within which to the greatest possible degree the goods
of each practice could be enjoyed as well as those goods which are
the external rewards of excellence. The name
given by Greeks to
this form of activity was 'politics' and the polis was the institution
whose concern was, not with this or that particular good, but with
1 It is not my intention to minimize the ways in which Maclntyre's views, including his
view of the polis (see Kelvin Knight's remarks 2007, 178-179) have changed over the years. I
concentrate here on those features I regard as common to the three accounts.

6 Carey Seal
human good as such, and not with desert ot achievement in respect
of particular practices, but with desert and achievement as such."
(Maclntyre 1988, 33-34)
This paper aims to show how Maclntyre builds his history of Greek ethics in
such a way as to demonstrate the necessity of the polis for the resolution of
the problems posed by the loosening of the social bonds depicted in the Homeric
epics. This history falls into three stages: the Homeric (the social world represen-
ted in Homer's poems about the heroic past), the archaic, and the classical (the
world of the developed polis). The paper traces Maclntyre's historical argument
through these stages and examines how he articulates them with one another,
with the purpose of showing how these articulations reinforce the conception of
the polis's function advanced in the quotation above. Along the way, it consi-
ders the threat posed by rival accounts of Homeric ethics to Maclntyre's broader
historical claims and proposes that the non-Homeric literature of the archaic
period, and the writings of Hesiod in particular, can help us better understand
Maclntyre's account of the reasons for the rise of the polis.
The striking metaphor that opens After Virtue famously draws a parallel
between the moral conditions of modernity and the states of scientific
knowled-
ge that might prevail after a catastrophe had wiped out natural
science, states
in which "those contexts which would be needed to make sense of what they [the
'scientists' of the post-catastrophic world] are doing have been lost, perhaps ir-
retrievably" (1981, 1). The intellectual context that Maclntyre believes is needed
to make sense of the concepts deployed in modern moral philosophy is, of cour-
se, the account of the virtues provided by Aristotle. Maclntyre makes clear his
agreement with the widespread scholarly view that Aristotle's ethical theory is
in turn securely founded in the
social and political conditions of the Greek polis.
"Aristotle," he writes, "takes himself not to be inventing an account of the virtues,
but to be articulating an account that is implicit in the thought, utterance and
action of an educated Athenian." (147-148) But this commitment to developing
and formalizing prephilosophical ethical notions presses us to ask which notions
exactly qualify as raw material for this process. Does the "thought, utterance
and action of an educated Athenian" of the fourth century form
a consistent and
unified whole, one whose tacit presuppositions can be elicited from that practice
and formulated as moral theory? Maclntyre's comments elsewhere suggest both
affirmative and negative answers to that question. On the one hand, he speaks
of Aristotle's view of the human being as "rooted in the forms of social life to
which the theorists of the classical tradition give expression" (1981, 58-59). The
"classical tradition" is here conceived as unitary, and its theorists give philoso-
phical shape to the standards defined by a particular set of social forms. We
have to counterpose to this idea of a classical tradition in ethics Maclntyre's
statements about the moral diversity of fifth- and fourth-century Athens, which
in his account is characterized by widespread controversy that comes about, he
writes, both "because one set of virtues is counterposed to another" and "also
and perhaps more importantly because rival conceptions of one and the same
virtue coexist" (133). In Whose Justice? Which Rationality? he writes that "we

Maclntyre and the Polis 7
inherit from the conflicts of the social and cultural order of the Athenian polis a
number of mutually incompatible and antagonistic traditions concerning justice
and practical rationality" (1988, 13). Classical Athens thus exhibits similarities
with Maclntyre's modernity, in which exponents of rival moral traditions futilely
dispute ethical questions using a vocabulary whose referents have become mul-
tiple and irreconcilable. How far this similarity extends is a question that must
be answered in reconciling this picture of democratic Athens with the idea of
a classical tradition as the foundation of Aristotelian virtue theory. What dis-
tinguishes what we might call the Greek modernity of the "classical tradition"
from the radical moral incoherence of post-Enlightenment modernity? An ans-
wer to this question must begin with a discussion of the origins of the moral
conflict particular to the developed polis, origins that lie, for Maclntyre, in the
disintegration of the heroic morality given expression in Homer's poems.
In the Iliad and Odyssey, Maclntyre maintains throughout all three of the
books under discussion, moral evaluation is inseparable from factual description
that employs predicates denoting such qualities as bravery and kingliness. "The
alleged logical gulf between fact and appraisal," he writes in the Short History
of Ethics, "is not so much one that has been bridged in Homer. It has never been
dug. Nor is it clear that there is any ground in which to dig." (Maclntyre 1966,
7) Furthermore, there is for each social role, in the society depicted by Homer,
"a clear understanding of what actions are required [... ] A man in heroic society
is what he does" (Maclntyre 1981, 122). Moral disagreement, then, is limited
to questions about the extent of the particular excellences to be ascribed to an
individual, not about the effect of those excellences on our evaluation of him.
Furthermore, the list of expected excellences is fixed by the social position of the
individual under evaluation. "Morality and social structure are in fact one and
the same in heroic society," Maclntyre writes (1981, 123). This view of Homeric
ethics draws on the work of Moses Finley, whose sociological analysis of the Iliad
and Odyssey sought to make apparent the
degree to which economic and social
relations in the world depicted by the poems constitute a unified whole, within
which all moral evaluation takes place (Finley 1954). In this world in which the
circulation of goods took the form of gift exchange founded upon relations of
kinship and guest-friendship, "the heroic code was complete and unambiguous,
so much that neither the poet nor his characters ever had reason to debate it"
(Finley 1954, 115). Maclntyre, in his chapter on heroic society in After Virtue,
reiterates the Finleyan view thus: "There is only one set of social bonds. Morality
as something distinct does not yet exist. Evaluative questions are questions of
social fact." (1981, 123) There was indeed, in this conception of Homeric society,
discussion of points of fact or tactics, but disagreement about the good there
could never be, since no such independent concept could be extricated from the
social structure within which all forms of human activity were embedded.
So much of Maclntyre's subsequent argument about the polis depends upon
this picture of heroic society that it might be worthwhile to examine some of the
controversy Finley's views have generated and to test Maclntyre's conclusions
about Homeric morality against some passages in the poems that have been foci
of resistance to those views. Several areas of investigation suggest themselves. We

8 Carey Seal
might review junctures at which the heroic standards of evaluation outlined by
Finley seem to be superseded by a different code with an entirely different social
perspective; Joseph Bryant points out
that "the swineherd Eumaeus, Odysseus'
loyal servant [... ] though a slave, is given the epithets dios ('divine' or 'godlike')
and esthlos ('noble' or 'good') on several occasions (XIV.3; XV.301; XV.558)
and is said to lead an agathos bios, a noble or 'good life' (XV.491)" (1996,
482 n.10). This question is muddied by mention of Eumaeus' royal birth (Od.
15.413), but it would be difficult to show how his life as a swineherd involves
the heroic excellences for which such descriptions are generally awarded. It was
Finley's practice to attribute to interpolation during a later, 'Hesiodic' age
those
passages in the poems, particularly in the
Odyssey, that raise difficulties for his
interpretation (see particularly 1978, 44-45 and 97), and such may have been
his view of these passages. Finley's view of practical reasoning in Homer, a view
central to Maclntyre's use of the poems, has likewise been challenged, most
persuasively by Malcolm Schofield (1986), who takes exception to Finley's claim
that "never in either the Iliad or the Odyssey is there a rational discussion, a
sustained, disciplined consideration of circumstances and their implications, of
possible courses of action, their advantages and disadvantages" (Finley 1978,
116). Taking as his text an improvised council of war between Agamemnon,
Nestor, Odysseus, and Diomedes (II. 14.27-134), Schofield argues (1986, 246-
250) that the description negated in Finley's denial matches what the Greek
leaders are actually shown to do. It might appear that if Schofield is right about
the character of this debate it becomes difficult to sustain Maclntyre's claim in
Whose
Justice? Which Rationality? that "means-end reasoning in the Homeric
poems has, compared with later times and places, a restricted function" so that
"in a secondary way they [agents in the poems] derive conclusions about what to
do next, but they are able to do so only because they already know independently
of their reasoning
what action it is that they are required to perform" (Maclntyre
1988, 19). One way to reconcile Schofield's argument with Maclntyre's would
be to concentrate on an aspect of the debate to which the former gives little
attention, namely the reasons adduced by Agamemnon for his "characteristically
disastrous" (Schofield 1986, 249) proposal to save the Greek ships from imminent
Trojan threat by putting them out to sea. He introduces this suggestion as
follows:
"It is no doubt sure to be dear to Zeus of exceeding might that the
Achaeans should perish here without renown, away from Argos. For I
knew it when he willingly helped the Danaans, and I know now when
he exalts them like the blessed gods, and has bound our strength and
our hands. Come, let us all obey, as I bid." (II. 14.69-74)2
Agamemnon rests his plan on a particular kind of knowledge claim, a claim to
be acquainted with the will of Zeus. Hugh Lloyd-Jones has argued (1971) that
this deity's function from the Iliad on is a morally regulative one, in which the
2 The text used of the Iliad is that of T.W.Allen (Oxford, 1931). Translations throughout
are my own unless otherwise noted.

Maclntyre and the Polis 9
god "defends the established order {dike) by punishing mortals whose injustices
disturb it" (27). His favor and displeasure, then, are not the simple product of
whim, but rather expressions of the all-encompassing divine justice that Macln-
tyre refers to when he writes that "the use of the word 'dike', both by Homer
and by those whom he portrayed, presupposed that the universe had a single
fundamental order, an order structuring both nature and society, so that the
distinction which we mark by contrasting the natural and the social cannot as
yet be expressed" (1988, 14). Agamemnon withdraws his proposal after a heated
challenge from Odysseus, who avers that moving the ships to safety will erode
morale (II. 14.83-108). He does not directly contradict Agamemnon's claim to
know what Zeus intends, but instead refers to the Greek warriors as those "to
whom Zeus has given to carry painful wars from youth to old age, until each of
us dies" (II. 14.85-87). He thus founds his attack on Agamemnon's plan upon
a parallel claim to understand Zeus's decrees. The claim that it is by the will
of Zeus that the Greeks toil endlessly in war serves only to neutralize Agamem-
non's theological argument, though; Odysseus' positive alternative derives its
argumentative propulsion from the statement that removing the ships is a tacti-
cal blunder that will issue in the fulfillment of the Trojans' wish that the Greeks
be destroyed (14.97-99). This debate, then, is apprehensible both in Schofieldi-
an and in Maclntyrian terms: it is indeed a rational discussion in which various
courses of action are weighed against one another, but it is also clear that this
means-end reasoning is "restricted" in Maclntyre's sense of not providing an ans-
wer
to the question "What am I to do?" (Maclntyre 1988, 19). We should note,
though, that although the answers to that question do lie securely beyond the
scope of the reasoned debate in Book XIV, they are, first, very broad answers
indeed ("Yield to the will of Zeus", "Prevent the Trojans from gaining victory")
that are not immediately linked to a course of action but rather admit of sever-
al plausible means of attainment and, second, are multiple in a way not fully
compatible with the heroic code as conceived of by Finley and Maclntyre. The
conflict between Agamemnon's
alleged knowledge of Zeus's will and Odysseus'
reassertion of the heroic imperative to achieve success in battle is, as we have
seen, not a direct one, because Odysseus deflects Agamemnon's claim about Zeus
with one of his own, but it remains true that the discussion is transacted with
reference to two different norms whose hierarchical relation to one another is not
clear.
How grave an obstacle this multiplicity of ends presents to Maclntyre's his-
torical thesis depends on the outcome of a related question on which Schofield
challenges Finley, that of the normative nature of the heroic code by which
Homer's chief characters live. Schofield's quarrel here is with Finley's assertion,
quoted above, that the heroic code in Homer is "complete and unambiguous" and
his related claim, quoted by Maclntyre in his chapter on heroic society in After
Virtue (1981, 122) that "the basic values of society were given, predetermined
and so were a man's place in the society and the privileges and duties that follo-
wed from
his status" (Finley 1978, 117). Schofield first notes that euboulia, or the
quality of dispensing good counsel, is a heroic virtue in the Iliad, "regarded as a
pre-eminent excellence of kings and heroes" (1986, 229). Its practice, that is, falls

10 Carey Seal
entirely within the scope of the heroic code as defined by Finley. Next Schofield
argues that "a commitment to euboulia already imports into the heroic code the
possibility of a conflict of values" because "being reasonable must imply being
ready to give weight to any considerations which deserve to be given weight.
And how can anyone tell which these are until one has thought about them? It
is a crucial assumption of and about rationality that one cannot: that there is
or may be more to discover than one yet knows" (1986, 237). It is important to
note that with this assertion the work of Schofield's argument is done and the
examples that follow are strictly superfluous, since the conception of rationality
he assumes here is entirely incompatible with Finley's historicist conception of
Homeric ethics and, once accepted, forecloses the possibility of preserving that
conception. It is also not susceptible of reconciliation with Maclntyre's view
that in heroic society "all questions of choice arise within the framework; the
framework itself therefore cannot be chosen" (Maclntyre 1981, 126). Let us then
examine the set of scenes in the Iliad proposed as an example by Schofield to
see what conclusions we can draw about the nature of the rationality at work
there.
Several times in the Iliad Hector is admonished by his comrade Polydamas,
whom the poet credits with the virtue of euboulia when he says that Polydamas
"devised good counsel" (II. 18.313). Polydamas twice advises Hector to refrain
from battle, the second time (II. 18.254-283) after Achilles has returned to battle.
In each case, Schofield points out, "Polydamas' talk is all of advantage and
safety and never of honour" (1986, 241). His argument in the council is that the
Trojan army can be safe inside the city,
but not on the plain where Achilles now
poses a renewed menace. His argument thus puts survival above the opportunity
to demonstrate heroic virtue in combat. In Finley's conception, prudence is a
quality that lies outside the Homeric code and in potential opposition to it. To
put prudential considerations above those of heroism is, according to Finley, an
ethical failing in the world of the Homeric poems (Finley 1978, 117-118). The
counsel of Polydamas is scornfully rejected by Hector and the other Trojans,
but after a series of reversals Hector comes to repent of his obstinacy in an
extraordinary speech:
"Oh alas, if I enter the gates and the walls, Polydamas will be first to
lay reproach upon me, he who bade me lead the Trojans towards the
city, in the course of this deadly night, when godlike Achilles arose.
But I did not obey. Indeed it would have been much better. Now
when I have destroyed the host by my recklessness, I am ashamed
before the Trojan men and the Trojan women with their flowing
robes, lest some man baser than me say, Hector, trusting in his own
force, destroyed the host. So they will say: but it was much better, as
far as I was concerned, either to go face to face with lethal Achilles
or to die myself gloriously in defense of the city." (II. 22.99-110)
Hector retrospectively acknowledges the Tightness of Polydamas' counsel; that
is, he accords him the virtue of euboulia. It is true that his reasons for doing
so are couched in the language of honor, in that they center around Hector's

Maclntyre and the Polis 11
expressed fear that he will with justification be spoken ill of by someone of
inferior social
standing. Schofield argues, though, that we must pay attention to
the sources of this imagined disgrace: "losing men could not be a matter of losing
face unless human life was regarded as precious in itself' (1986, 243). Hector's
standards for assessing his own behavior here, then, take "advantage and safety"
rather than honor as their evaluative axis, as do the standards he supposes his
fellow Trojans to employ. Unless we believe that Hector and his community have
jettisoned the moral framework shown to guide them throughout the poem, we
must be prepared to accept Schofield's reversal of Finley's claim that the
heroic
code is "complete and unambiguous": "if narrowly defined in terms of honour,
it is far from complete, but if it is more liberally construed, it is plainly not
unambiguous" (Schofield 1986, 239). That is, we either must accept that the
heroic code endorses the entertainment of prudential considerations for their
own sake, or we must allow that the heroic code does not demand the entire
allegiance of the hero or supply an end toward which he should strive in each
situation conceivable within his social role, but rather that it can be supplanted
by a variety of other considerations, among which the hero chooses on the basis
of even broader moral principles not reducible to a heroic code.
Schofield's solution is to introduce a distinction derived from Stoic ethics
between the'goal' of an action and its 'intended result'. The intended result
of warfare is, for Hector, the
preservation of Troy, but its goal, the aim of its
excellence, is the accumulation of heroic honor (243). This distinction enables
Schofield to retain Finley's sociology of Homeric ethics while accounting for tho-
se passages, like the speech of Hector quoted above, in which concerns that seem
foreign to the morality sketched out by that sociology seem paramount. This
way of explaining Homeric morality allows for a dimension of conflict largely
unaddressed by Finley, that between goal and intended result. It is this tension,
Schofield contends, that imparts to the Iliad its tragic character. We might gau-
ge the extent of Maclntyre's distance from what Schofield calls "the currently
popular reading of the Iliad as a tragedy" (245) by the rarity with which Macln-
tyre uses "tragedy" or its derivatives to describe the poem or its characters in the
three books under discussion.3 His reading of tragedy, typified by his statement
that "the Sophoclean self transcends the limitations of social roles and is able
to put those roles in question, but it remains accountable to the point of death
and accountable precisely for the way in which it
handles itself in those conflicts
which make the heroic point of view no longer possible" (Maclntyre 1981, 145),
locates what is distinctive about the genre in the quality of conflict he ties to
the social character of fifth-century Athens and thus is cautious in identifying
archaic anticipations of what is genuinely tragic about tragedy.
The foregoing is not to suggest that Maclntyre is insensitive to the role played
by moral conflict in the Iliad. "There are already in the Iliad", he writes, "tensions
between what arete requires and what dike requires" (Maclntyre 1988, 26). Three
features of this statement, however, minimize the conflict that Schofield and like-
minded readers are anxious to emphasize. The first is the adverb "already", which
3
I am indebted to Alex Bavister-Gould for pointing out to me that this tendency is not
absolute; see page 157 of After Virtue.

12 Carey Seal
paints such conflict as proleptic of a later era rather than integral to the poem
itself. The second is its situation in Maclntyre's text after the statement that
"the Homeric poems themselves in the various chronological layers represented
therein give expression to an ongoing history of conceptual change" (Maclntyre
1988 26). This developmental view has
the effect, again, of rendering conflict
marginal or accidental, in a manner parallel to Finley's assignment of 'Hesiodic'
provenance to passages that seemed to
him at odds with the dominant morality
of the poems. Third, we should note that the sort of conflict acknowledged here
and that treated by Schofleld are quite distinct from one another. For Schofield's
concern is not with conflict between arete and dike so much
as with conflict
interior to the concept of arete itself. He characterizes the disagreement between
Hector and Polydamas as between the
pursuit of heroic excellence on the one
hand and on the other that excellence in good counsel that can, indeed must,
test the moral ends of the heroic code against considerations that are entirely
extraneous to it.
If this sort of clash between moral codes each of which enjoys no secure claim
to predominance is, for Maclntyre, foreign to the spirit of the Homeric poems,
it is prominent in his subsequent history of Greek ethics. Maclntyre's account
supposes, then, a sharp discontinuity between the social and moral world of
Homer's poems and the very different world of the Greek polis. The nature of
this rift, and the ways in which it serves in Maclntyre's history to
generate a need
for the institutions of the mature polis, is perhaps best made clear by reference
to Hesiod, an author little mentioned in the three books under discussion. His
poems, though, can help us fill in for ourselves some of the elisions in the account
of the polis those books supply.
If
we were to extend to encompass Hesiod the main line of Maclntyre's ar-
gument in Whose Justice? Which Rationality? about the conflicts basic to the
polis, we could note his treatment of the two different sorts of eris, strife, in the
Works and Days:
"For one [sort of strife] causes evil war and contention to wax, being
hard-hearted. No mortal loves her, but they honor grievous
Strife
under compulsion by the will of the immortals. The other murky
Night bore first, and the son of Cronos, seated aloft and dwelling in
the ether, placed her in the
roots of the earth, and she is much better
to men. She rouses even the shiftless man to work. For a man desires
to work when he looks upon his neighbor, a rich man who is eager to
plough and sow and to place his house in order. Neighbor is envious
of neighbor as he vies for wealth. This Strife is good for men." (Op.
14-23)4
We have here a distinction between two kinds of striving, that which consists
in the cultivation of genuine excellences and is thus beneficial and that which
involves no practices that are ends in themselves, only the attainment of external
goods by violence. It is these two sorts of rivalrous zeal, one to shine by standards
4
The text used of the Works and Days is that of Friedrich Solmsen 1970.

Maclntyre and the Polis 13
internal to a practice and one to acquire external goods without reference to
those standards, that will be canalized during the formation of the polis into the
two sorts of cooperation, one aiming at excellence in particular practices and the
other at the goods of effectiveness, that Maclntyre identifies as grounding the
competing moralities of classical Athens.
Controversy about the relative values of these excellences themselves is pro-
minent in Hesiod as well, though. Walter Donlan writes that "Hesiod's notions
of ability and success (arete) and of the good man have no reference at all to the
heroic conception of these. Arete consists in being a successful farmer; the good
man (agathos aner) is one who is capable, efficient, prudent and cooperative wi-
thin the narrow sphere of the agrarian life" (1980, 33). It is in this gulf between
the world of Homer and that of Hesiod5
that we should locate the origins of the
"classical tradition" of which Maclntyre writes, and it is here that we find so-
me clarification of Maclntyre's view of that tradition as simultaneously coherent
and riddled by fundamental and irreconcilable disagreement. In Hesiod, arete
is transformed from heroic excellence to excellence in a particular art, that of
farming. Once the idea of excellence assessed by standards internal to a practice
is carried from the pursuit of honor into other pursuits, the way is opened for the
profusion of excellences in diverse practices that in Maclntyre's view lies at the
center of the classical moral tradition culminating in Aristotle: see, for example,
his statement in the 1998 preface to the Short History of Ethics that "whenever
such practices as those of the arts and sciences, of such productive and practical
activities as those of farming, fishing, and agriculture, of physics laboratories
and string quartets and chess clubs, types of
activity whose practitioners cannot
but recognize the goods internal to them and the virtues and the rules required
to achieve those goods, are in a flourishing state,
then Aristotelian conceptions
of goods, virtues, and rules are regenerated and reembodied in practice" (1998,
xviii). We should note at the same time that this generalization from the he-
roic ideal, in which a single martial way of life defined goodness, to a variety of
other excellences raises the question of which of these sorts of excellence, each
grounded in a particular social role, defines the best sort of life. We can see
this consequence in Hesiod's poems, which are vexed by the question of which
kind of life enjoys priority
over the others. This concern is most clearly visible
in Hesiod's discussion of the power of the Muses in the Theogony:
"Whomever
of god-nourished kings the daughters of great Zeus honor
and see being born, on his tongue they pour sweet dew and honeyed
words flow from his mouth. All the people look to him as he settles
causes with straight judgments. He who speaks steadily straightaway
puts an end deftly even to a great quarrel. For on account of this
are kings sensible, because they easily accomplish restitution when
the people are deprived of good sense in assembly, winning them
over with soft words. They propitiate him as a god with honeyed
5 Without making any judgment as to which poet preceded the other, we can note that
for Hesiod the heroic age described by Homer is chronologically prior to that about which he
writes, Op. 156-173.

14 Carey Seal
reverence when he comes upon a struggle, and he stands out among
the assembled. Such is the holy gift of the Muses to human beings.
For from the Muses and far-shooting Apollo men who are singers and
players of the lyre come upon the earth, and kings are from Zeus.
But he is blessed, whomever the Muses love. Prom his mouth flows
a sweet voice." (Theog. 81-97)6
"Contrary to tradition", Hermann Frankel writes of this passage, "Hesiod has so
far expanded the sphere of the Muses as to embrace the power which governs the
words of a wise king who issues just decisions." (1962/1973, 107) The Muses, to
whom Hesiod claims a privileged connection (Theog. 22-35), here dispense the
gifts not just of poetic inspiration, but also of political flourishing. The arts of
government are converted into an auxiliary branch of the verbal arts in which
Hesiod claims mastery. Each sort of human excellence, now given the sort of
autonomy restricted in heroic morality to the characteristic excellence of the
aristocratic warrior, seeks to become not simply autotelic but architectonic as
well, to have the contributions made by arts and practices other than its own
defined
as dependent upon and organized by that art of which it is the realization.
Maclntyre writes that by the time of classical Athens "the conception of a virtue
has now become strikingly detached from any particular social role" (1981, 132-
133). Hesiod gives us the opportunity to watch this process of detachment in
progress and to observe its wider moral ramifications.
This anarchy is the necessary background to Maclntyre's presentation of
the moral landscape of the mature classical polis. Rivalry
among different arts,
irresolvable in their own evaluative terms, is contained by politics, identified by
Aristotle as the architectonic master
art that organizes the others:
"It [the chief good] would seem to belong to the most authoritative
art and that which is most truly the master art. And politics appears
to be of this nature; for it is this that ordains which
of the sciences
should be studied in a state, and which each class of citizens should
learn and up to what point they should learn them; and we see even
the most highly esteemed of capacities to fall under this, e.g. strategy,
economics, rhetoric; now, since
politics uses the rest of the sciences,
and since, again, it legislates as to what we are to do and what we
are to abstain from, the end of this science must include those of the
others, so that this end must be the good for man." (EN 1.1.2, 1094
a26-b7)
Maclntyre makes this function of the polis as an arena for the political master
art clear when he writes that for the classical Athenian "the milieu in which the
virtues
are to be exercised and in terms of which they are to be defined is the
polis" (1981, 135). The polis contains and regulates the plural virtues and, by
giving hierarchical order to their practice, defines a moral order that is coherent
but not monolithic. Germane here is Peter McMylor's caution that "Maclnty-
re's argument is fundamentally misconstrued if it is assumed to rely on upon a
6 The text used of the Theogony is that of M. L. West 1966.

Maclntyre and the Polis 15
seamless organic moral unity lodged in the past" (1994, 39). As we have seen,
Maclntyre does indeed construe Homeric morality as something fundamentally
very close to that unity, but the classical tradition he invokes incorporates a
diverse array of moral views, often radically at odds with one another, and that
tradition flourishes in the polis precisely because the invention of politics offers
the possibility of reconciling moral diversity and moral order. McMylor goes on
to note that for Maclntyre the key point about this tradition and indeed about
premodern ethics generally is that "these views were embodied in communities,
perhaps competing communities, that within themselves shared a common con-
ception of what the pursuit of the good life was [... ] [W]hat all these forms had
in common was an ability to link the individual via a socially defined role with
the pursuit of human goods." (1994, 40) Such roles can vary widely in flexibility
and in ability to accommodate moral innovation; we have seen that Maclntyre
believes the heroic role of Homer's protagonists to be sharply limited in both
respects. To the moral structure of the polis, however, his account assigns the
capacity to allow for fundamental differences in outlook without collapsing enti-
rely or abdicating its function of connecting the individual to the pursuit of the
good. Once we understand the role of politics in organizing autotelic excellences,
we can see why Maclntyre lays such great stress on two aspects of Athenian life
that seem superficially at odds with one another: on the one hand its heavy use
of such agonistic social forms as the popular assembly, the law court, and the
tragic stage, in which utterly divergent conceptions of the good are in various
ways allowed to make opposed and irreconcilable moral claims on the Athenian
citizen, and on the other hand the city's function as "a guardian, a parent, a
teacher, even though what is learnt from the city may lead to a questioning of
this or that feature of its life" (1981, 133). The centrality of politics to Athenian
experience permits the safe flourishing of an entire range of excellences under the
organizational penumbra of the city's shared political life. The classical moral
tradition Maclntyre seeks to define turns out to be, in the most radical sense, a
political tradition, one whose characteristic contradictions can be accommodated
only within the sheltering confines of the polis.
Bibliography
Bryant, J. M. (1996), Moral Codes and Social Structure in Ancient Greece: A Sociology
of Greek Ethics from Homer to the Epicureans and Stoics, Albany/NY
Donlan, W. (1980), The Aristocratic Ideal in Ancient Greece: Attitudes of Superiority
from Homer to the End of the Fifth Century B.C., Lawrence/Kansas
Finley, M.I. (1978), The World of Odysseus (2nd ed. 2002), New
York
Frankel, H. (1962), Early Greek Poetry and Philosophy: A History of Greek Epic, Ly-
ric, and Prose to the Middle of the Fifth Century, translated by Moses Hadas and
James Willis, New York
Knight, K. (2007), Aristotelian Philosophy: Ethics and Politics from Aristotle to Ma-
clntyre, London
Lloyd-Jones, H. (1971), The Justice of Zeus (2nd ed. 1983), Berkeley
Maclntyre, A. (1981), After Virtue: A Study in Moral Theory, Notre Dame
—
(1988), Whose Justice? Which Rationality?, Notre Dame

16 Carey Seal
—
(1998), A Short History of Ethics: A History of Moral Philosophy from the Homeric
Age to the Twentieth Century (2nd ed., 1st ed. 1966), Notre Dame
McMylor, P. (1994), Alasdair Maclntyre: Critic
of Modernity, London.
Schofield, M. (1986), Euboulia in the Iliad, in: Classical Quarterly 36, 6-31; Reprinted
in: Cairns, D. L. (ed.) (2001), Oxford Readings in Homer's Iliad, Oxford, 220-259

Analyse k Kritik 30/2008 (© Lucius & Lucius, Stuttgart) p. 17-31
Cary J. Nederman
Men at Work: Poesis, Politics and Labor in
Aristotle and Some Aristotelians*
Abstract: In Book 3 of his Politics, and again in Book 7, Aristotle makes explicit his
disdain for the banausos (often translated 'mechanic') as an occupation qualified for full
civic life. Where modern admirers of Aristotle, such as Alasdair Maclntyre, have taken
him at face value concerning this topic and thus felt a need to distance themselves from
him, I claim that the grounds that Aristotle offers for the exclusion of banausoi from
citizenship are not consistent with other important teachings (found in the eighth book
of the Politics as well as in several of his other writings) about the nature of poesis
('productive science', which is the form of knowledge characteristic of the so-called
'mechanical arts'). I further support this claim with reference to the role played by the
mechanical arts within the Aristotelian framework of knowledge that one encounters
in medieval European thought between the twelfth and the fourteenth centuries, with
particular reference to Hugh of St. Victor, John of Salisbury, and Marsiglio of Padua.
0. Introduction
One of the greatest challenges facing
recent thinkers who wish to recuperate
Aristotle's moral and political philosophy for a contemporary audience has been
the exceedingly exclusionary, some might say 'elitist', qualifications that he de-
manded for achieving practical virtue.1 Women, slaves, barbarians and banausoi
(a term often translated 'mechanics') need not apply, according to Aristotle, be-
cause their natures and/or occupations disqualify them from full participation
in civic affairs. Only free, adult, Greek males of leisure and at least moderate
wealth possessed the conditions of life necessary in order to learn and practice
the moral virtues and to engage as citizens ruling and being ruled in turn. Given
modern predilections for both natural and political equality, and thus for a far
more inclusive view of moral and political life, Aristotle's position would not
appear to be very congenial to the concerns of current philosophy as well as
practice.
Consequently, some modern Aristotelians have sought to explain away or di-
minish the significance of Aristotle's exclusions by ascribing them to cultural
*
I wish to thank Eugene Garver and Kelvin Knight for their very helpful comments on
this paper and useful suggestions for its improvement.
1 A valuable appraisal of the recent revival of Aristotelianism in political theory is offered
by Wallach 1992. See also the contributions to Tessitore (ed.) 2002.

18 Cary J. Nederman
prejudices or blindness that he shared with his times. On this account, there is
nothing inherent in Aristotle's own philosophy that warrants or requires exclu-
sion.
Hence, what he says concerning the moral and political capacities of free,
adult, Greek males of leisure and wealth can be extended to apply equally to
all human beings, regardless of gender, race, ethnicity, or
occupation. Alasdair
Maclntyre, for one, has adopted a version of this thesis in several of his impor-
tant books. Discussing the problem at greatest length in Whose Justice ? Which
Rationality?, Maclntyre declares that
"the claim that in the best kind of polis the distribution of public
offices and the honoring of achievement will be in accordance with
excellence, that is, with virtue, is independent of any thesis about
what kinds of persons are and are not capable of excellence. What
Aristotle's invalid arguments direct our attention to is that in the
best kind of polis the participation of women or of artisans would
require a restructuring of their occupational and social roles of a kind
inconceivable to Aristotle himself [...]. What therefore remains so
far at least unscathed in Aristotle's account of the best kind of polis
is the thesis that a political constitution which is designed to promote
the exercise of virtue in political life will need to concern itself with
the occupational structure of the polis."2
If Maclntyre is correct, then we should be able to detach Aristotle's theory of
distributive justice from his account of the virtues in such fashion as to permit
all of his excluded categories of citizens to realize their faculties and capacities
in a manner congruent with the moral purposes for which the civic body exists.
Where Aristotle (wrongly, Maclntyre contends) presumed that the excellences of
women and banausoi were worthless to the ultimate ends of the polis, one may
still be a perfectly coherent Aristotelian and subscribe to the view that such
groups do indeed contribute to the overall good of the community. This is what
I take Maclntyre to mean by his assertion that the polis can and must revalue
'occupational and social roles' in a more inclusive manner.
Is Maclntyre right? The question of the status of women has been taken
up by various feminist theorists, whose work I do not need to recapitulate here
(see Freeland 1998). Likewise, much has been said regarding Aristotle's views
on slavery.3 In the present paper, I propose to concentrate on the question of
whether 'mechanics' may be included in the just Aristotelian political order in a
way that remains consonant with fundamental features of Aristotle's philosophy.
In my view, there is an additional dimension, unnoticed by Maclntyre, to the
occupational revaluation of banausoi that he advocates. This factor stems from
Aristotle's own organization of the realms and domains of human knowledge.
As Maclntyre accurately insists in several of his books, it is necessary to set
Aristotle's account of moral and political life in the context of his distinction
2 Maclntyre 1988. See also Maclntyre 1981, 158-160 and Maclntyre 1999, 6-7.
3 For instance Smith 1991,142-155; Frank 2005, 26-32. Eugene Garver very recently shared
with me an unpublished paper entitled "Aristotle's Natural Slaves: Incomplete Praxis and
Incomplete Human Beings" that does much to unravel the questions surrounding this topic.

Men at Work: Poesis, Politics and Labor in Aristotle 19
between theoretical or contemplative virtue and practical or active virtue (see
Maclntyre 1989, 91-93; 1990, 111). Each realm depends upon different forms
of knowledge: the former seeks universal first principles for their own sake;
the latter aims at particular precepts of action for the sake of something else,
namely, eudaimonia. Aristotle believes that both are necessary for full human
flourishing, albeit in different ways: he posits an ordering between them, such
that the exercise of active virtues is a necessary but subordinate condition for
the acquisition of theoretical excellence. As Maclntyre properly acknowledges,
the acquisition and use of practical intelligence, phronesis, is a worthy pursuit
because it simultaneously confers eudaimonia and makes possible the 'higher'
satisfactions afforded by episteme, theoretical inquiry. As Maclntyre concludes,
"[although Aristotle does indeed contrast the episteme of universals with the
particularity of phronetic concerns, the two are clearly linked." (1989, 93)
What Maclntyre, curiously, does not appear to recognize is that Aristotle's
division of knowledge throughout his corpus is actually tri-partite: in addition
to the theoretical and practical realms of
inquiry, Aristotle talks repeatedly
and at length about 'productive' science (poesis).4 This is not an insignificant
omission, I think, because the 'productive' domain of knowledge is precisely
that which guides the activities associated with the 'mechanical arts'. In order
to understand adequately the difficulties attendant upon Aristotle's insistence on
the 'practical' incompetence, and thus political exclusion, of banausoi, I contend
that we must investigate this third classification of the sciences. I hold that
Aristotle's attitude in the Politics and elsewhere toward 'mechanics', to the
extent that it represents a conventional and uncritical contempt for the manual
trades, stands in tension with his systematic organization of human knowledge.
If true, this claim supports a far stronger and more compelling reason than
Maclntyre imagines to suppose that one may adopt a genuinely Aristotelian
stance favoring the inclusion of 'mechanics' into the life of wisdom and hence
moral and political virtue. In sum, I identify a conceptual struggle internal to
Aristotle's own thought that opens the way to Aristotelian inclusiveness. Nor
do I think that this is mere hermeneutical cleverness (some might say 'trickery')
on my part. Rather, it is telling that many medieval readers of Aristotle, who
were familiar with his general systematization of knowledge well before they had
access to the Politics or the Nicomachean Ethics, adopted essentially the same
position, jettisoning his exclusion of 'mechanics' from public life on largely the
same grounds that I do.
In the present paper, then, I first turn to the writings of Aristotle himself in
order to examine more carefully his arguments about both the alleged incapaci-
ties of banausoi and the nature of the 'productive' sciences in order to highlight
the tension that I have located. Thereafter, I investigate some features of the
medieval reception of Aristotle by authors who refused the conclusion that the
exercise of the mechanical arts is incompatible with the possession of practical
intelligence and virtue, and consequently with political engagement.
4
My position in what follows shares some common features with that of Knight 2007, esp.
16-34, although it will become apparent that we disagree on many specifics of interpretation.

20 Cary J. Nederman
1. Aristotle
As I have mentioned already, Aristotle's Politics leaves no doubt that in a well-
ordered or just regime, the status of citizen would only be accorded to those
whose arete (excellence, virtue) qualifies them to participate fully in office-
holding and the functions of ruling. He admits that constitutions do indeed
vary concerning who is to be admitted into citizenship: democracies including
all (or at any rate most) free males born of citizen parentage, oligarchies estab-
lishing more stringent limitations on citizenship. But he declares that his concern
is not merely to engage in the descriptive enterprise of determining citizenship
in a relative sense; he is instead interested in defining 'citizen in the strictest
sense', that is, those individuals who are competent to exercise the civic rights
associated with judicial and official tasks.5 While civic excellence is not iden-
tical to personal virtue, individuals who possess both—that is, who are both
good citizens and good men—will tend to coincide in the best constitutional
arrangements (1276bl6-1277b33). For this reason, the citizen can never be a
"mechanic," since the menial laborer necessarily lacks the excellence associated
with just judgment and wise rule.
"It must be admitted that we cannot consider all those to be citizens
who are necessary to the existence of the polis [... ] In ancient times,
and among some nations, the artisan class were slaves or foreigners,
and therefore the majority of them are so now. The best form of
polis will not admit them to citizenship; but if they are admitted,
then our definition of the excellence of a citizen will not apply to
every citizen, or every free man as such, but only those who are
freed from necessary services. The necessary people are either slaves
who minister to the wants of individuals or mechanics and laborers
who are the servants of the community." (1278a2-12.)
Aristotle reaffirms this position in his discussion of the ideally best regime in
Book 7 of the Politics. There he distinguishes the 'citizens' properly speaking—
whom he terms the 'parts' of the polis and who discharge the properly political
functions of defense, religious worship, and deliberation—from the 'conditions'
of the polis, whose responsibility is to meet its physical needs by engaging in
farming, craftsmanship, and commerce. He argues that
"since we are speaking here of the best form of
government, that
is, the one under which the polis will be happiest (and happiness,
as said before, cannot exist without excellence or virtue), it clearly
follows that in the polis that is best governed and includes only men
who are just absolutely, rather than just relative to the principle
of the constitution, the citizens must not lead the life of artisans
5
Aristotle, Politics 1275a3- 20. In general, English translations are based on the versions
found in Richard McKeon (ed.), The Basic Works of Aristotle, New York: Random House
1941, although I have occasionally modified them in consultation with the Greek texts of the
works of Aristotle published in the Loeb Classical Library edition.

Men at Work: Poesis, Politics and Labor in Aristotle 21
or tradesmen, for such a life is ignoble and inimical to excellence."
(1328b32-41)
Thus, in his ideal regime, those who earn their living necessarily possess the
status of outsiders within their own community. They would not be the same as
slaves or foreigners, in the sense that they could presumably own property and
determine the conditions of their own labor; but for all intents and purposes,
their status would otherwise not be much different from the unfree and the alien.
What justification does Aristotle offer for such exclusion from the commu-
nity? Two main arguments stand out. First, practitioners of the mechanical
arts necessarily lack the free time that he regards to be crucially important for
a perfected civic life. "Citizens being compelled to live by their labor have no
leisure," he asserts. (1292b26-27) Leisure is required for citizenship both because
it permits citizens a full opportunity to participate in all aspects of community
activity and because it
affords the chance to acquire the moral and intellectual
qualities indispensable for wise rule. "Leisure", Aristotle observes, "is necessary
both for the development of excellence and the performance of political duties."
(1329al-2) The man of leisure, as he says in the Nicomachean Ethics, stands a
better chance of obtaining excellence and happiness than does one constantly
consumed by daily cares and woes. (NE 1177b4-27)
The second rationale for the exclusion of mechanics from citizenship is the
incompatibility of the aims of their occupation with the true nature of the polis.
Aristotle had famously held that the polis exists not in order simply to preserve
the biological lives of its members, but to promote their virtue and happiness; its
purpose is not mere life, but a 'choiceworthy' life. "The polis exists for the sake
of a good life, and not for the sake of life only: if life only were the object, slaves
and brute animals might form a polis, but they cannot, for they have no share in
happiness or in a life based on choice", Aristotle asserts (Politics 1280132-34).
The end of the mechanical arts does not measure up to this vaunted goal of 'the
good life'; those who work with their hands create at best merely the conditions
for a materially adequate existence. Of course, a man must have access to
the means of physical life as a pre-requisite to living well, that is, virtuously
and happily; the goods of the soul assume at least a modicum of "external"
goods (NE 1177a28-31). But those who provide such sustenance are themselves
engaged in an enterprise that limits their appreciation of the ultimate excellence
that the polis exists to achieve. Their conception of the good life involves the
amassing of wealth or gathering of property or enjoying of physical pleasure,
rather than the genuine happiness afforded by the practice of the moral and
intellectual virtues. The life of mechanics, in sum, decisively disqualifies them
from realizing completely their political natures.
At one point in the Politics, Aristotle draws an explicit connection between
his exclusion of the practitioners of the banausic arts and his conception of
knowledge,6 remarking
"any task, craft, or branch of learning should be considered vulgar if
it renders the body or mind of free people useless for the practices
6 A useful survey is provided by van den Hoven 1996, 81-86, 103-105.

22 Cary
J. Nederman
and activities of virtue. That is why the crafts that put the body in
a worse condition and work done for wages are called vulgar; for they
debase the mind and deprive it of leisure." (Politics 1337al0-ll)
This would seem to suggest a more-or-less absolute dividing line between the so-
called 'productive' forms of science and the other realms of knowledge. Yet such
a complete division is not sustained by discussions elsewhere in his corpus. As
I have already mentioned, a number of Aristotle's writings distinguish between
'contemplative' or 'theoretical' or 'speculative' knowledge, on the one hand, and
'practical' and/or 'productive' knowledge, on the other. Although his terminol-
ogy is not always entirely consistent, his
basic insight is evident: 'contemplative'
inquiry is devoted to inquiry into pure truth, whereas 'practical' and 'produc-
tive' disciplines aim at the correct conduct of activity. Aristotle comments in
the Eudemian Ethics that
"the theoretical sciences [... ] [such as] astronomy and natural science
and geometry have no other end except to get to know and to con-
template the nature of things that are the subjects of the sciences;
[by contrast,] the end of the productive sciences is something differ-
ent from science and knowledge, for example, the end of medicine is
health and the end of political science is good order." (EE 1216bll-
18)
As he elaborates in the Metaphysics,
"There is a science of nature, and evidently it must be different both
from practical and from productive science. For in the case of pro-
ductive science the principle of movement is in the producer and
not in the product, and is either an art
or some other faculty. And
similarly in practical science the movement is not in the thing done,
but rather in the doer. But the science of the natural philosopher
deals with the things that have in themselves a principle
of move-
ment. It is clear from these facts, then, that natural science must be
neither practical nor productive, but theoretical [... ]" (Metaphysics
1064al0-18)
'Productive' and 'practical' sciences seek a good action or a result, rather than
knowledge for its own sake; moreover, the source of 'practical' and 'productive'
knowledge is the human being himself, while the origin of theoretical knowledge
lies rather within nature. (EE 1218bl-8) Thus, the study of the active or human
domain was not valuable for its own sake, but for the sake of something else,
namely, the improvement of human behavior (and ultimately the attainment of
eudaimonia) in moral, public and material spheres. This, in turn, requires the
development of a theory of moral psychology designed to teach people to develop
characters conducive to the performance of virtuous acts and a conception of
statesmanship and legislation aimed at promoting the moral improvement of
citizens and inhabitants, as well as a standard of judgment for the value of the
products yielded by the mechanical arts.

Men at Work: Poesis, Politics and Labor
in Aristotle 23
While Aristotle says much less about 'productive' knowledge than about the
other domains of human science, he nonetheless makes a case for its validity as
well as its usefulness and thus treats it as a legitimate branch of human inquiry.
In his most extensive discussion of the subject, in the opening chapter of the
Metaphysics, he acknowledges the unique role played by 'productive' sciences, in
the sense that "actions and productions are all concerned with the individual; for
the physician does not cure man, in some incidental way, but Callias or Socrates
or some other called by some such individual name, who happens to be a man."
(Met. 981al6-20) By contrast, theoretical knowledge
treats only of universal or
general causes and principles.
On the one hand, Aristotle regards the theoretical sciences as ultimately
superior because they yield superior knowledge of causes and are most akin to
divinity. (Met. 982a20-983a23) Hence, "theoretical kinds of knowledge [... ]
[partake] more of the nature of wisdom than the productive." (Met. 982b35)
Still, on the other hand, Aristotle admits that "if a man has the theory without
the experience, and recognizes the universal but does not know the individual
included in this, he will often fail to cure; for it is the individual that is to
be cured". (Met. 981a20-24) Although Aristotle proposes a clear hierarchy
of knowledge, then, he admits that a 'productive' science does demand some
knowledge of causes and principles—if only in a particular and applied way
in order to achieve a result—and thus has value. For this reason, while he
condemns the mindlessness of the manual laborer, he also recognizes that "the
master-workers in each craft are more honorable and know in a truer sense and
are wiser" precisely because they have acquired a modicum of knowledge about
specific causes. (Met. 981a30-32). Moreover, he avers that "he who invented any
art whatsoever that went beyond the common perception of man was naturally
admired by men, not only because there was something useful in the invention,
but because he was thought wise and superior to the rest". (Met. 981bl3-16)
Aristotle does not dispute this assessment, but instead criticizes those who hold
in higher esteem inventions
that resulted in recreation in contrast to the crafts
that alleviate the necessities of life, the latter of which permit the leisure that
is a pre-requisite for advanced theoretical pursuits and contemplation. (Met.
981bl6-24)
In sum, Aristotle concedes that 'productive' knowledge not merely produces
useful results, but additionally affords us some grasp on the understanding of true
causes and principles. In line with Maclntyre's observation about the linkage of
'theoretical' to 'practical' knowledge, the contrast drawn between them and the
'productive' sciences does not entail the failure of the latter to partake of the
essential principles constitutive of human knowledge. (Here I disagree with what
I take to be the claim of Kelvin Knight that Aristotle sought to detach poesis
entirely from both theoria and praxis (Knight 2007, 16)). 'Productive' sciences
may be of a lesser order than
their 'theoretical' and 'practical' counterparts (just
as 'practical' knowledge is subordinated to 'theoretical'), but one might readily
conclude that it is impossible for human beings to live a fully flourishing life
without some grasp of 'productive' knowledge just as of phronesis and episteme.
This impression is reinforced by some of Aristotle's comments in the unfin-

24 Cary J. Nederman
ished Book 8 of the Politics, where he confronts a tension between 'production'
and phronesis implicit in the education of the citizens under the best constitu-
tion. As we have seen, Book 7 insists upon a
firm distinction in such an ideal
polity between its 'parts' and 'conditions',
the latter constituting the 'vulgar'
mechanical
occupations that are excluded from citizenship. In Book 8, Aristotle
agonizes about how this separation is to be maintained in matters of instruction
which clearly require the acquisition of 'productive' knowledge. He adopts a
studied ambivalence concerning such learning:
"That children should be taught those useful things that are really
necessary, however, is
not unclear. But it is evident that they should
not be taught all of them, since there is a difference between the tasks
of the free and those of the unfree, and that they should share only
in such useful things that will not turn them into vulgar craftsmen.
[... ] Even in the case of some of the sciences that are suitable for
a free person, while it is not unfree to participate in them up to a
point, to study them too assiduously or exactly is likely to result in
the harm just mentioned." (Politics 1337b3-6, 14-17)
These remarks seem to support the position of the Metaphysics that there is
some value to the realm of 'productive' knowledge. On the one
hand, Aristotle
apparently realizes that an education in the practical and theoretical virtues
pre-
supposes the acquisition of forms of 'productive' knowledge. On the other hand,
he deeply fears that too much knowledge of this sort demeans people and renders
them unfit to pursue the 'higher' ends of humanity. His proposed solution—that
instruction in 'productive' learning be guided by the goal of enhancing noble
leisure, rather than giving pleasure or generating servility—strikes me as some-
what strained and vague. (Politics 1337b211338al3) Aristotle leaves it an open
question how much education in the 'productive' sciences is too much, although
some is clearly desirable.
Aristotle's ambivalence regarding 'productive knowledge' is perhaps even
more evident in the discussion
of musical instruction that closes off the ex-
tant portion of Book 8. He agonizes at length about the reasons why music
(by which he means singing and playing instruments, not merely the study of
harmony) should be incorporated into the communal curriculum in the best city.
He admits that music is neither "necessary for life", nor useful, nor good for the
soul; instead, music should be counted among the "leisured pursuits counted as
appropriate for free people". (1338al3-25) But, at the same time, encouraging
(even requiring) citizens to learn how to play instruments and sing poses the
risk of permitting their degeneration into base men, since "musicians are vulgar
craftsmen, and [... ] a true man would not perform music unless he were drunk
or
amusing himself'. (1339b8-9) If the appreciation of music is indeed part of the
"leisured life of the free man", would it not be safer and more sensible for citizens
to listen to music rather than to perform it? Aristotle responds negatively: a
musical education demands hands-on experience, because "if someone takes part
in performance himself, it makes a great difference in the development of certain
qualities, since it is difficult if not impossible for people to become excellent

Men at Work: Poesis, Politics and Labor in Aristotle 25
judges of performance if they do not take part in
it". (1340b21-24) As is gener-
ally the case with his attitude toward "productive" forms of knowledge, Aristotle
asserts the validity of acquiring some musical skill precisely because it facilitates
a more noble way of life; this end must kept clearly in view. Consequently, he
insists that exercise in voice and instruments should be confined to youth: "[...]
since one should take part in performance in order to judge, for this reason they
should engage in performance while they are young and stop performing when
they are
older, but be able to judge which melodies are noble and enjoy them in
the right way, because of what they learned when they were young." (1340b34-
39) The case of music illustrates clearly that "productive" knowledge is linked,
if subservient, to more elevated human pursuits associated with phronesis and
arête. Given this connection, even though Aristotle realizes that there is some
merit to the objection "that performing music makes one vulgar" (1340b39-
40), he still upholds the positive contribution that learning musical performance
makes to the characters of the future citizens of the perfectly just community.
Of course, he stipulates a specific curriculum in order to ensure that the goal of
leisure, rather than the promotion of vulgarity, is achieved. (1341a8-1341bl8)
Aristotle certainly fears the consequences of putting "productive" knowledge to
the wrong sorts of uses, on the one hand, yet he is loathe to surrender it entirely,
in recognition of the foundation it provides for leading a life of noble leisure.7
2. Later Reception
It is apparent, then, that Aristotle struggled (somewhat unsatisfactorily) in the
Politics with the tension between the value of 'productive' knowledge for human
flourishing and the exclusion of the 'mechanical arts' and their practitioners from
a full share of moral and political life. If he were consistent in the application
of his systematic classification of knowledge, which posits linkages between the
three main categories of science, he would perhaps have surrendered the insis-
tence that the practice of arts and crafts associated with
'productive' knowledge
is incommensurable with citizenship properly conceived. Failing this, I think
that we should conclude that Aristotle neglects to provide compelling philosoph-
ical grounds to follow him in his view that the rights and offices of citizenship
must be unavailable to 'mechanics' in a just regime. Not only does 'productive'
knowledge share some important characteristics with other forms of knowledge,
but it affords a precondition for the capacity of human beings to become good
and wise. There is nothing about the acquisition of 'productive' knowledge that
renders people unqualified for
virtue and eudaimonia per se—on Aristotle's own
grounds.
One reason why I find this thesis plausible is that it seems to have been
widely adopted by medieval Latin authors familiar with Aristotle's conception
of the ordering of the human
sciences, both before and after the translation and
transmission of his main writings during the late twelfth and early thirteenth
7
Eugene Garver has suggested to me that echoes of a similar position may be found in
Nicomachean Ethics, 1094a29-b4.

26 Cary
J. Nederman
centuries. Even without access to Aristotle's own treatises, there were numer-
ous intermediary sources that propounded the basic Aristotelian scheme, among
them Boethius's Commentary on Porphyry's Isagoge and Cassiodorus's Insti-
tutes as well as Isidore's Etymologies.8 These works were widely disseminated
during the twelfth century, so Aristotle's categorization of the forms of philo-
sophical knowledge formed a common feature of medieval learning. Probably
the first thorough use in the twelfth century of the Aristotelian division of the
scientific disciplines was made by Hugh of St. Victor (Wieland 1981, 23-25). In
his Didascalion, which dates to the late 1120s, Hugh upheld a four-fold division
of the sciences into the contemplative, practical, logical and mechanical realms.9
His analysis of these fields of knowledge is clearly indebted to Aristotle's frame-
work.10 Of particular interest in the present context, Hugh incorporated the
practice as well as the theory of the mechanical arts into the realm of human
'wisdom', rendering them thereby worthy to be pursued by human beings. He
reasons that earthly wisdom extends to all acts for which "the end and the inten-
tion" is "the restoring of our nature's integrity or the relieving of those weaknesses
to which our present life lies subject".11 The former actions are, of course, spir-
itual and pertain to the condition of the human soul, the goal of which is "to
restore in us the likeness of the divine image". The latter type of act concerns
the circumstances of the body and "the necessity of this life, which, the more
easily it can suffer harm from those things which work to its disadvantage, the
more does it require to be cherished and conserved".12 While 'divine' matters
may take ultimate priority for Hugh over 'human' ones, he concludes that the
necessity imposed upon us by our god-given nature constitutes a dilemma whose
remedy deserves to be accorded the name of knowledge (scientia) just as much
as the theoretical or practical fields of reason (1.8, 55-56). The purpose of the
mechanical
arts is to overcome or combat the natural deficiencies of human life.
The unique predicament of human beings, then, demands the 'invention' or
'discovery' of the arts, according to Hugh (1.11, 57-58). "Necessity", he observes
with reference to the proverb, "is the mother of arts". (1.9, 56) He refuses to
disdain the fact the God has left us to our own devices to meet our needs: "A
need is something without which we cannot live, and [with which] we would live
more happily [... ] For the sake of our needs, the mechanical arts were discov-
ered." (6.14, 152)
In turn, because humanity has multiple needs, there must
be many different sorts of occupations to meet them. Thus, mechanical knowl-
edge comprises seven arts—fabric-making, armament, commerce, agriculture,
hunting, medicine, and theatrics—of which the initial three pertain to the ex-
ternal protection of the body, while the other four concern internal nourishment
8
See Boethius, Commentaria in Prophyrium, 1.3 (Migne, Patrologia Latina, 64.11—64.12);
Cassiodorus, Institutiones, ed. R. A. B. Mynors 1937, 2.3.7; and Isidore of Seville, Etymologiae,
ed. W.M. Lindsay 1911, 2.24.16.
9
Hugh of St. Victor 1961, Didascalicon, Jerome Taylor (trans.), Appendix A, 152-154. I
have occasionally corrected the translation when it seemed to depart too greatly from the
Latin version of the Didascalicon, ed. Charles H. Buttimer (1933).
10 As has been emphasized by Haren (1992), 112.
11 Hugh, Didascalicon, 1.5, 51-52.
12 Hugh of St. Victor, Didascalicon, 1.7, 54.

Men at Work: Poesis, Politics and Labor in Aristotle 27
(2.20, 74). The practitioners of each of these arts redress some defect of natural
human existence by manufacturing an artificial product in imitation of nature
itself: they provide for us what nature does not, yet in a quasi-natural way (1.4,
51).
"From nature's example, a better chance for trying things should be
provided to man when he comes to devise for himself by his own
reasoning those things naturally given to all other animals. Indeed,
human reason shines forth much more brilliantly in inventing those
very things than ever it would have had man naturally possessed
them." (1.9, 56)
Hugh thus refutes the accusation that mechanics live contrary to nature because
their products
are mere 'artifice': "We look with wonder not at nature alone but
at the artificer as well." (1.9, 56) Such remarks clearly correlate to the Aris-
totelian conception of 'productive' knowledge. For Hugh as for Aristotle, the
'productive' sciences contain a measure of wisdom which, if not as venerable as
that possessed by the theologian and the philosopher, still possesses inherent
worth that demands the respect of humankind. But Hugh does not take the
step of concluding that the practitioners of the 'mechanical arts' are thereby
disqualified from acquiring the practical and even theoretical forms of knowl-
edge. On the contrary, he stresses to an even greater extent than Aristotle the
interdependence of the various classes of knowledge: "the mechanical arts [... ]
are altogether ineffective unless supported by knowledge of' logic, the practical
arts, and the theoretical sciences. (Appendix A, 154)
Soon after Hugh wrote, and perhaps under the considerable weight of his
influence, we find a large body of literature emerging that addresses the organi-
zation of human knowledge generally and that specifically valorizes 'mechanics'
and their distinctive form of inquiry (Van den Hoven 1996, 178-200). During
the late 1150s, John of Salisbury went so far as to insist that the practitioners of
the 'mechanical arts' deserve to be accorded an official status within the body
politic and are to be treated with dignity and respect. Without referring directly
to the Didascalicon or other Aristotelian-inflected schemes of the sciences, John
lists the various mechanical pursuits in some detail, making it clear that he is
speaking not just of master artisans but of the full range of what he calls 'the
humbler offices'.
"Among these are to be counted the husbandmen, who always cleave
to the soil, busied themselves about their plough-lands or vineyards
or pastures or flower gardens. To these must be added the many
species of cloth-making and those mechanical arts that work in wood,
iron, bronze, and the different metals; also the menial occupations,
and the manifold forms of making a livelihood and sustaining life, or
increasing household property, all of which, while they do not pertain
to the authority of the governing power, are yet in the highest degree
useful and advantageous to the corporate whole of the community."13
13 John of Salisbury, in: C.C.J. Webb (ed.), Policraticus 2 1909, 6.20. The translations
here are based on my English version (Cambridge University Press 1990), 125-126.

28 Cary
J. Nederman
John even claims that the welfare of such 'mechanics' constitutes the very ratio-
nale for the government of the king: "That course is to be pursued in all things
that is of advantage to the humbler classes, that is, the multitude; for small num-
bers always yield to great. Truly, the reason for the institution of officials was
to the end that subjects might be protected from wrong, and
that the republic
itself might be 'shod,' as it were, by means of their services." (6.20) Thus, where
Aristotle had excluded precisely such mechanical occupations from having a part
in the just polis, John places them at the center of the healthy and well-ordered
political organism. John recognizes that the body politic requires the "services"
provided by
practitioners of the "mechanical arts" in order to survive and thrive:
"It is they who raise, sustain, and move forward the weight of the entire body.
Take away the support of the feet from the strongest body, and it cannot move
forward by its own power, but must creep painfully and shamefully by its own
hands, or else be moved by means of brute animals." (5.2) Consequently, on the
principle of "reciprocity" that informs John's political theory generally (6.20),
the other parts of the body owe it to the manual occupations to ensure that
they are treated justly and shown due honor as befits their contributions to the
common good. This position seems to be consonant with and warranted by the
twelfth-century reception of the Aristotelian idea of "productive" knowledge as
one among several valid sciences, all of which contribute to an overall human
good.
It may be surprising
to discover that the situation was not radically trans-
formed in the course of the thirteenth century when Aristotle's complete oeuvre
(including the Ethics and Politics) had been translated into Latin and circulated
widely among Europe's intelligentsia. Of course, some authors did
follow Aristo-
tle in insisting upon the exclusion of artisans, farmers and other banausoi from
the ranks of citizens. But there was by no means universal agreement about
this topic. A survey of the main scholastic commentaries and quaestiones on the
Politics dating to the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries demonstrates that the
nature of qualifications for citizenship was a matter of wide dispute.14 My own
research into some of the major political theorists of the same era—including
Brunetto Laini, Ptolemy of Lucca,
and Marsiglio of Padua—likewise indicates a
willingness to consider the 'functional' contributions of 'mechanics' to constitute
sufficient reason to accord them full status as citizens
(Nederman 2002; 2003;
2004). Marsiglio is perhaps the most extreme in this regard. In his Defensor mi-
nor, a summary recapitulation and application of the precepts of major treatise,
Defensor pads, written around 1340, he unambiguously proposes that 'mechan-
ics' are qualified for active participation in civic life. Addressing the question of
who enjoys the proper authority to punish or remove negligent rulers, Marsiglio
reasserts the teaching of the Defensor pads that no single part of the commu-
nity has the rightful power to correct the governor; instead, it is a matter for
the whole citizen body to address. He then adds an intriguing qualification:
"And I say furthermore that if such correction pertains to some par-
ticular part or office of the civic body, then under no circumstances
14 See Dunbabin 1982, 723-737.

Men at Work: Poesis, Politics and Labor in Aristotle 29
does it pertain to
priests, but instead to prudent men (prudentes) or
learned teachers, indeed preferably to the workman or craftsmen or
the rest of the laborers (mechanicis)."
Whereas priests are forbidden to have a hand in political affairs, Marsiglio ex-
plains, it is permitted "by human reason or law [... ] for these men to involve
themselves in civil or secular affairs."15
The Defensor minors remark confirms, at minimum, that he regarded prac-
titioners of the mechanical arts to be full members of the community, competent
to participate in important public decisions such as the punishment of an er-
rant ruler. Marsiglio's wording, moreover, suggests that he may subscribe to an
even more expansive view: he hints that those engaged in manual occupations
may enjoy special rights or responsibilities in cases of judging and correcting
the mistakes of governors. Evidently, given the orientation of his conception
of community toward functional inclusion, he believed that practitioners of the
'mechanical arts' possessed a special stake in ensuring the communal good, re-
quiring that they be accorded a citizen status that confers upon them a remark-
ably large share of authority in the governance of their own communities. In
any case, Marsiglio, who is often considered to be the arch-Aristotelian of the
fourteenth century, departs explicitly and markedly from Aristotle's evaluation
of the political competence of 'mechanics', in line with what appears an estab-
lished tradition of respect for the value of the knowledge and activity that they
bring to the community.
3. Conclusion
How widespread was the position adopted by Marsiglio and other scholastic au-
thors concerning the qualifications of 'mechanics' for public life based precisely
on the merits of their occupations? It would require a far more extensive survey
of the medieval literature than is possible at present to answer this question
adequately.16 It seems evident, however, that numerous medieval authors re-
garded the nature of 'productive' knowledge and its application by various types
of manual laborers in a far more positive light than did Aristotle himself. An
important reason for this, I surmise, stems from the broad commitment to Aris-
totle's own plan of organizing and analyzing the sciences, which stood at the
15 Marsiglio of Padua, Writings on the Empire: Defensor minor and De translatione Im-
perii, trans. Cary J. Nederman 1993, 2.7. The Latin edition is to be found in Oeuvres Mineures,
ed. Colette Jeudy and Jeannine Quillet, Paris: Éditions de CNRS, 1979.
16 Let me mention just two more, and very different, examples of the medieval valorization
of
the mechanical as important contributions to the communal good. Pierre DuBois in The
Recovery of the Holy Land, trans. Walther I. Brandt (New York 1956, 136-138) integrates the
study of the mechanical arts quite centrally into his curriculum for the instruction of young
men. Moreover, Constant Mews of Monash University has pointed out to me that Johannes
de Grocheio's Ars musice, a work of the mid-thirteenth century, contains extensive defense
and praise of the so-called musica vulgalis (simple or civil music) on grounds of its moral and
political value, and also associates directly this form with the mechanical arts. (Professor
Mews is part of a team that is presently editing and translating this treatise.)

30 Cary J. Nederman
intellectual core of the Middle Ages, especially—but not only—after the emer-
gence of the Arts curriculum during the early thirteenth century. To the extent
that Aristotle's arrangement of knowledge incorporates 'production' as one of its
dimensions, his exclusion of banausoi from political affairs would have seemed
as inexplicable and indefensible to them as it does to us. Of course, the fact
that so many medieval authors disagreed with Aristotle on this point does not
'prove' the validity of my claim that a tension exists within his writings in re-
gard to the status of 'productive' knowledge. But such considerable divergence
from Aristotle, especially in a world in which commitment to human equality
and basic civil rights was far more tenuous then in our own times, is at least
suggestive.
To conclude, I hope to have offered some compelling reasons to suppose that
there are much better reasons
than Maclntyre adduces to insist that Aristotle's
exclusion of banausoi from access to full political engagement is essentially in-
correct. Aristotle's own attitude toward the interconnections between different
fields of knowledge affords a sufficient foundation for us to reject his statements
in the Politics concerning the necessary incapacity of 'mechanics'. We need not
fall back entirely on culturalist or historicist grounds in order to save Aristotle
from his errors. Rather, Aristotle himself provides us with the resources for
building a more inclusive and egalitarian vision of a political community. In
reaching this conclusion, I concur broadly with the spirit of Kelvin Knight's
recent book on Aristotelian Philosophy in promoting a 'reformed', even a 'rev-
olutionary', Aristotelianism (Knight 2007, 220-221). I would simply add that I
believe we may reasonably look for the grounding of such an Aristotelian renewal
in the works Aristotle himself as well as in the medieval reception of his ideas.
Bibliography
Dunbabin, J. (1982), The Reception and Interpretation of Aristotle's Politics, in:
Kretzmann, N./Kenny, A./Pinborg, J. (eds.) (1982), The Cambridge History of
Later Medieval Philosophy, Cambridge
Frank, J. (2005), A Democracy of Distinction: Aristotle and the Work of Politics,
Chicago
Freeland, C.
(ed.) (1998), Feminist Interpretations of Aristotle, University Park/PA
Harén, M. (1992), Medieval Thought (2nd ed.), Toronto
Knight, K. (2007), Aristotelian Philosophy: Ethics and Politics from Aristotle to Mac-
lntyre, Cambridge
Maclntyre, A. (1981), After Virtue (2nd ed.), London
—
(1988), Whose Justice? Which Rationality?, Notre Dame
—
(1990), Three Rival Versions of Moral Inquiry, Notre Dame
—
(1999), Rational Dependent Animals: Why Human Beings Need the Virtues, Chicago
Nederman, C. J. (2002), Mechanics and Citizens: The Reception of the Aristotelian
Idea of Citizenship in Late Medieval Europe, in: Vivarium 40, 75-102
—
(2003), Commercial Society and Republican Government in the Latin Middle Ages:
The Economic Dimensions of Brunetto Latini's Republicanism, in: Political Theory
31, 644-663
—
(2004), Body Politics: The Diversification of Organic Metaphors in the Later Mid-

Men at Work: Poesis, Politics and Labor in Aristotle 31
die Ages, in: Pensiero Politico Medievale 2, 59-87
Smith, N. (1991), Aristotle's Theory of Natural Slavery, in: Keyt, D./Miller Jr.,F.
(eds.), A Companion to Aristotle's Politics, Oxford
Tessitore, A. (ed.) (2002), Aristotle and Modern Politics, Notre Dame
Van den Hoven, B. (1996), Work in Ancient and Medieval Thought, Amsterdam
Wallach, J. R. (1992), Contemporary Aristotelianism, in: Political Theory 20, 613-664
Wieland, G. (1981), Ethica—Scientia Practica, Miinster

Analyse & Kritik 30/2008 (© Lucius & Lucius, Stuttgart) p. 33-52
Kelvin Knight
After Tradition?: Heidegger or Maclntyre,
Aristotle and Marx*
Abstract: Philosophical tradition has been challenged by those who would have us
look to our own practice, and to nothing beyond. In this, the philosophy of Martin
Heidegger is followed by the politics of Hannah Arendt, for whom the tradition of
political philosophy terminated with Karl Marx's theorization of labour. This challenge
has been met by Alasdair Maclntyre, for whom the young Marx's reconceptualization of
production as a social activity can inform an Aristotelianism that addresses our shared
practices in traditional, teleological terms. Looking to the social nature of our
practices
orientates us to common goods, to the place of those goods in our own lives, and to
their place within political communities. Maclntyre's Thomistic Aristotelian tradition
has Heideggerian and other philosophical rivals, but he argues that it represents our
best way of theorizing practice.
0. Heidegger and Aristotle
Martin Heidegger and his 'postmodernist' followers describe past, Western phi-
losophy as 'the tradition'. Heidegger's project was to rethink the origins of this
tradition and to 'destroy' its conceptual scheme (Heidegger 1962, 41-49), so as
to uncover phenomenologically what of our elemental way of being has been
concealed by a couple millenia of metaphysical dogma. Up until his 'turn' in the
early 1930s, and especially prior to the publication of Being and Time (van Bu-
ren 1994; Kisiel 1995), the young Heidegger was in continuous engagement with
Aristotle, whom he considered the most revealing philosopher of human being's
worldliness and temporality. It was largely through reinterpreting Aristotle's
texts and terminology that he hoped to discover how one might think differently
from the tradition.
The concept upon which Heidegger focussed first and most consistently was
that of being. His initial motivation was theological, Catholic, and scholastic, al-
though he progressively moved from these concerns toward that of understanding
and expressing what being is in terms that are somehow primordial and 'pre-
conceptual'. This concern was with the ontic temporality of what can always
become otherwise, rather than with atemporally suspending what 'is' within
some conceptual scheme. Aristotle had conceptualized worldly being in terms of
* I thank Anton Leist and my interlocutors at the Alasdair Maclntyre's Revolutionary
Aristotelianism conference for comments on an earlier version of this paper.

34 Kelvin Knight
particular forms, kinds or species, and of substantial individuals as instances of
such species. Despite his anti-conceptualism, Heidegger's specific concern was
with what it is to be human. Or, rather, his concern was with what it is to be
fully and openly aware of one's own being, as a human. One's own being is tem-
porally limited, but is within a world replete with equipment and possibilities.
Heidegger's phenomenological preoccupation with our awareness of being
might well be characterized as philosophically modern and post-Kantian, but he
instead characterized it as preconceptual and pretraditional. The text through
which he found himself best able to articulate how tradition had concealed
this primordial self-consciousness was Nicomachean Ethics Book Six (Heidegger
2002a, 129-137; 1997, 15-48, 93-118; 2007, 219-230), and this precisely because
of its conceptual clarity. Here, Aristotle distinguishes between what tradition
calls the intellectual virtues and what Heidegger called ways of (or of being dis-
posed toward) discovering and perceiving entities. Of the five ways, those that
need concern us are: sophia, techne, and phronesis. Sophia is the theoretical
disposition toward
things that are unchanging and unworldly, and techne is the
knowledge of how to productively manipulate things that are ready to hand,
whereas phronesis is practical insight into one's own being or, that is, the dis-
position of Dasein toward itself. Aristotle and the tradition have taken us the
wrong way in prioritizing sophia over phronesis, and therefore in directing our
attention away from our own being and acting.
It has been well said that, for Heidegger, "potentiality is to be understood as
something disclosed and projected in the element of I can, insofar as it is revealed
to me as my possibility", so that "his fundamental ontology is the ontology of
action (praxis) and creativity (poiesis)" (Chernjakov 2005, 8, 14; Chernjakov's
emphases; Greek transliterated). Human potentiality is not to be understood
in terms of the actualization of a singular form. On Heidegger's interpretation,
the traditional, teleological paradigm is a theoretical extrapolation from the ex-
perience of production, or poiesis, that erroneously conceptualizes the process
of material production apart from the human activity, or energeia, of creation.
Accordingly (and in accordance with his speculatively philological practice of re-
ducing Aristotle's concepts, and even his neologisms, to their etymological begin-
nings), Heidegger interpreted Aristotle's term energeia literally, as "at workness"
or "being at work" (Heidegger 1995, 188-189, 192-193; Brogan 2005, 130).1 Re-
versing the traditional prioritization of actuality to potentiality, he argued that
"higher than actuality stands possibility" (Heidegger 1962, 63, Heidegger's em-
phasis; see also e.g. Heidegger 1988, 308; 2007, 231; 1995). His own ontology
was opposed to any universalism of forms, even in Aristotle's attenuated sense
in which "primary being" is that of
substantial individuals and actualization is
contingent upon chance and external conditions, but this does not entail that
he was opposed to any universalism whatsoever. His concern with the ontic is a
1
Joe Sachs' (1995; 1999) explicitly Heideggerian and anti-Thomistic argument for translat-
ing energeia as being-at-work is answered on behalf of Aristotelian tradition by Glen Coughlin
(2005, xxvii-xxviii) but apparently ignored by other recent translators (even of Metaphysics
Theta). In Knight 2007 I attempt to steer a course though Aristotle's own work in a way that
takes bearings from both modes of interpretation.

After Tradition?: Heidegger or Maclntyre, Aristotle and Marx 35
concern with the universally fundamental and essential condition of individual
human beings.
Prom the perspective of Heidegger's most faithful devotees, his genealogi-
cal rethinking of the origins of tradition amounts to the
deconstruction of its
conceptual scheme. As against this, Francisco Gonzalez has recently argued
that Heidegger often distorts Aristotle's meaning horribly in accusing Aristotle
of a metaphysics of presence
that precludes temporality. For example, "Heideg-
ger's interpretation" of "Aristotle's fundamental concept" of energeia "is not only
wrong but disastrously wrong" (Gonzalez 2006a, 545) in allowing confusion of
human activity with its material products,
as are his ontological interpretations
of agathon or good "as a way of being [... ] in our existing, not in our acting," and
of telos not as "'goal' or 'aim'" or good but as "outermost limit" (Gonzalez 2006b,
131-132; Gonzalez's emphases). On Gonzalez's account, Heidegger's "misinter-
pretation of Aristotle's fundamental concepts turned him aside too soon from a
barely explored road at the beginning of the metaphysical tradition," (Gonzalez
2006a, 558) a road that was blocked by his ontologization of Aristotle's ethics
(Gonzalez 2006b, 138).
The road down which Gonzalez points would appear to be that which has
been named (by Manfred Riedel) 'the rehabilitation of practical philosophy'.
This is a road that was opened up by Heidegger's rethinking of tradition's ori-
gins in his reinterpretation of Aristotle, but is delineated by Aristotle's concep-
tual distinctions in, above all, Ethics Six. The road of practical philosophy
is
that of praxis and phronesis, and is sharply bounded on the one side by theoria
and sophia and, on the other, by poiesis and techne. Practical philosophy is
unconcerned with ontology, and its
concern with production is only that this be
subordinated to practice. This road is therefore neither that of Heidegger nor
of what he called 'the tradition'. Rather, according to its protagonists, it rep-
resents a more authentically Aristotelian tradition, now disclosed from beneath
centuries of metaphysical overlay. The best known of these 'neo-Aristotelians'
was Hans-Georg Gadamer, who freely admitted his attachments to both Hei-
degger and tradition and, also, the political incompetence of philosophers. For
him, practice meant culture, and ethics derived from ethos. Others understand
practice to be more political, and are therefore less ready to associate them-
selves with Heidegger, whose political blundering was worse than that of any
stargazing Greek. One example is Wilhelm Hennis, who attributes his practical
philosophy to the influence of Leo Strauss and admits no direct influence from
Heidegger whatsoever. Another is Hannah Arendt, who, it can be argued, was
at once Heideggerian and Aristotelian (Kisiel 2005, 153-158; Volpi 2007, 45-46;
Knight 2008).
1. The Birth and Death of Political Philosophy
In 1924, alongside Gadamer, Arendt first listened to Heidegger interpret Nico-
machean Ethics Book Six and use it as the medium though which to under-
stand Plato's critique of sophistry in the name of truth (Heidegger 1997). Like

36 Kelvin Knight
Gadamer, she took from Heidegger's focus upon Ethics Six what became for
her the elemental idea that praxis should be conceptualized in contradistinction
to both producing and theorizing. Unlike production, action has nothing to do
with causing effects or with means to ends. Rather, it is free, spontaneous and
expressively disclosive of the self.
After her political disillusionment with Heidegger, and after her subsequent
critique of totalitarianism (Arendt 1968a), Arendt made her own project that
of establishing the validity of the life of political speech and action in its own
terms, apart from any purely philosophical life of the mind. Like Heidegger,
she considered that her project required the deconstruction of philosophical tra-
dition. However, the tradition she wished to deconstruct was not defined in
terms of its ontological speculation. Rather, it was what she called "the tra-
dition of political philosophy". This tradition was one of philosophers writing
about politics, in order to make of political action a means to securing the nec-
essary conditions for their own contemplative theorizing. It began when Plato
politicized philosophical tradition in response to the death of Socrates (who the
later Arendt characterized as a Sophist), and in the Republic the idea of "the
good" ceases to be an object only of contemplation. Instead, it becomes the
standard by which to judge, guide and order human affairs (Arendt 1968b, 107-
115; 2005, 6-13, 25-32). Plato is concerned with action, but his concern is to
enclose action within theory and to confuse it with production. This genealogical
deconstruction of the traditional "relationship between philosophy and politics"
was informed by Heidegger's interpretation of Plato's "parable of the cave",2 but
to this interpretation she added that it is "decisive that Plato makes the agathon
the highest idea [...] for 'political' reasons" (Arendt/Heidegger 2004, 120-121;
Greek transliterated).
Arendt's initial judgement of Aristotle was, like Heidegger's, that he con-
tinued and elaborated Plato's philosophy. Regarding his veritably teleological
idea of something "having its end in itself' as "paradoxical", she contended that
he "degrades [... ] everything into a means", that he "introduced in a system-
atic way the category of means and ends into the sphere of
action", and that
he understood "praxis in the light of poiesis, his own assertions to the contrary
notwithstanding" (Arendt 1953, 6). In The Human Condition she was less an-
tipathetic, conceding that his concept of actuality theorized the characteristically
Greek idea that "greatness [... ] lie[s] only in the performance itself and neither in
its motivation nor its achievement", adding once again how "paradoxical" is the
idea of an "end in itself' but now allowing that, on Aristotle's own account, the
"specifically human achievement lies altogether outside the category of means
and ends" (Arendt 1958, 206-207). In her very last work she gave his theory of
action its teleological due, acknowledging his account of eudaimonia as an end
"inherent in human nature" (Arendt 1978, 61-62) and that he differentiated "the
productive arts [... ] from the
performing arts". Here, she criticized only Aquinas
for "neglect [ing] the distinction between poiesis and praxis" that is "crucial for
2 At Arendt 1968b, 291 she specifies the German original of Heidegger 1998 as her source.
An extended version is Heidegger 2002b, 17-106. For Gadamer's more nuanced interpretation,
see Gadamer 1986, 73-103.

After
Tradition?: Heidegger or Maclntyre, Aristotle and Marx 37
any theory of action" and, therefore, for ignoring the possibility "that there could
be an activity that has its end in itself and therefore can be understood outside
the means-end category" (Arendt 1978, 123-124; Arendt's emphasis).
It is a peculiarity of Arendt's account of the tradition of political philosophy
that—although she says it began with Plato's idea of the good, although she
follows Heidegger in saying that the tradition continued with Aristotle, and
although she focusses upon Aristotle's teleology of what she calls ends and
means—she makes nothing of Aristotle's teleology as a systematic temporal-
ization of the good in terms of actualizable, specific goods, or of his idea that
the specifically human good is something rationalizable as an aim. This issue,
with which Gadamer attempted to deal directly (Gadamer 1986), is one that
she ducks. Instead of talking of the human good, she, like Heidegger, talks only
of "achievement" or "accomplishment". When she talks of teleology, she speaks
only of "ends"—any ends. A further peculiarity is, therefore, that she writes
of Thomas Hobbes not only as the great, early modern opponent of tradition
but also as the great, early modern proponent of teleology. She can therefore
describe him as
the bourgeoisie's greatest ideologist in legitimating both their
purposive accumulation of wealth and the sovereign's purposive accumulation
of power, in a process that she saw as culminating in totalitarianism (Arendt
1968a, 139-143). Her objection is not the Aristotelian one that wealth and
power are only instrumental goods external to the self, to be differentiated from
those substantive, 'internal goods' which are the aretai,
virtues, or excellences of
character, and which are properly regarded as ends in themselves. Rather, her
express objection to Hobbes is that action is the realm of contingency, and that
therefore one can never with any certainty effect future ends by means of present
action. Her underlying objection to Hobbes is, though, more practical: that his
idea of a singular sovereignty conflicts with her idea
of politics as an irreducible
plurality of individual voices and actions. Here she prefers Machiavelli's oppo-
sition to tradition in banishing the idea "of the good" from "the public" to "the
private sphere of human life" and its replacement by republican virtu, "the excel-
lence with which man answers the opportunities the world opens up before him
in the guise of fortuna [... ] where the accomplishment lies in the performance
itself and not in an end product which outlasts the activity that brought it into
existence and becomes independent of it" (Arendt 1968b, 137, 153).
If Plato stands at the beginning of Arendt's "tradition of political philoso-
phy", then at its end stands Karl Marx. Arendt had been brought up to respect
Marx, and, despite what was done in his name in the twentieth century, she
never blamed him for totalitarianism. She understood him as a rebel against
the German ideology of Hegelianism, the supposed culmination of philosophical
tradition, in his following of Feuerbach's inversion of Hegel's account of the re-
lation of 'man' to 'Idea' and, further, in his account of ideas as epiphenomenal,
superstructural predicates of the basic, temporal and historical subject of human
'species being'. However, she later argued that such an inversion of concepts re-
mains within the same conceptual scheme, and she opposed any such 'dialectical'
project of combining rationality with actuality as involving the politically dan-
gerous confusion
of freedom with necessity. Marx, in combining Hegel's "notion

38 Kelvin Knight
of history with the teleological political philosoph[y] of' Hobbes (Arendt 1968c,
77), compounds Hobbes's error in extending a teleological conception of action
from instrumentally rational actors to "man" as a species. What she regarded
as the Marxist idea that history can be intentionally made, she considered even
more erroneous than the Hobbesian idea of the state as an artifact.
Where Marx broke with tradition, on Arendt's account, was in the radicalism
of an ambition that she understood as profoundly philosophical. Marx rebelled
not just against the philosophy of Hegel, and not just against the capitalism that
Hegel legitimated as rational actuality, but also against the human condition of
our very being in the world. This rebellion she understood as radicalizing Plato's
introduction of philosophical ideas as standards by which to judge the world of
human affairs. Whereas Hegel's dialectic was supposed to synthesize actuality
with rationality, necessity with freedom, Marx's was intended to subordinate
actuality to reason, to abolish necessity in the cause of freedom, and to bring
about the culmination of humanity's 'making' of history in the full actualization
of philosophy's traditional ideals of freedom and reason, justice and goodness.
Marx's theoretical presumptuousness was informed by what Arendt alleged
was his confusion of action with causally productive, end-means 'work' and, also,
of the creative freedom of work with what she differentiated as the biological ne-
cessity of endless 'labour'. Whereas prior tradition had concealed action beneath
theory, Marx concealed the freedom of action within a necessity that was at once
historical and biological, just as he hid the political interaction of the plurality of
'men' within the history and 'society' of a unitary humankind. Therefore, even
if Marx had been the greatest critic of the commercial society legitimated by
Hobbes, he was also, Arendt
alleged, the greatest prophet and champion of the
twentieth century's mass society of technology and technique, of consumption
and labour, in predicting "that the working class will be the only legitimate heir
of classical philosophy" (Arendt 1968d, 21). Her primary interest in Marx, as
in Plato and Hobbes, was in him as a political thinker. She often listed him
alongside Kierkegaard and Nietzsche as a destroyer of tradition, but it is Marx
who had a political impact upon the twentieth century by attempting to pose
an alternative to tradition in replacing ontology with history and politics with
society.
What politics should consist in for Arendt was never very clear. Her political
ideal was that of action for its own sake and speech for the sake of persuasion,
but insofar as persuasion is undertaken for any further goal then both it and
action lose their authenticity. Her
institutional ideal was that of the creation
and federation of local councils (see especially Arendt 1965, final chapter), but
this ideal seldom informed what she wrote of politics because of her grounding
in Heidegger's ontology of action. For her, as for him, "higher than actuality
stands possibility", but on her account action for the sake of mundane goals has
aggregated historically into an apolitical 'society'. It is this rise of society (like
the rise of technology, for the later Heidegger) that has, at base, eliminated both
politics and tradition, and it is this historical process of which she considered
Marx the greatest prophet.
Just as Aristotle is crucial to the tradition on the account of Heidegger, so too

After Tradition?: Heidegger or Maclntyre, Aristotle and Marx 39
is he on that of Arendt. Rather as Heidegger uses Aristotle to create an image of
'primordial' Greek ideas of being which he then alleges were concealed by
means
of Aristotle's conceptual scheme, Arendt uses him to present an impression of
action and politics which she alleges he contravened and undermined. The reduc-
tion of politics to economics culminated with Marx but was begun by Aristotle,
who introduced the idea of 'rule' from the oikos to the polis. Describing rule
in terms of authority, and denying any idea of a specifically human good which
might legitimate that authority, Arendt presented authority as amoral domi-
nation and, therefore, presented Aristotle's authoritarianism as a radicalization
of Plato's concealment of Greek freedom. Again, for Arendt, as for Heidegger,
Aquinas is even more guilty than Aristotle of concealing the primordiality of
Greek "politikon" with the obfuscation of Latin "socialis" (Arendt 1958, 23).
The basic objection of Heidegger and Arendt to philosophical tradition was
that it
causes us to look away from our own being and acting, and that it is this
being and acting which should be the focus of our concern. The later Heidegger's
critique of the tradition of 'ontotheology' was that it subordinates our being to
that of 'God',
and this critique may be understood as developing a line of thought
that began with Feuerbach and passed through Nietzsche. Arendt's critique of
the tradition of political philosophy was that it subordinates action to 'good'
and politics to 'society'. For both of them, we should therefore look beneath
and before the tradition. But what they deny, Alasdair Maclntyre affirms.
2. Maclntyre and Aristotle
Maclntyre's After Virtue answers the Heideggerian challenge to tradition. He
describes the book as "a study in moral theory", and his express antagonist is
Nietzsche, who challenged morality, not Heidegger, who ignored moral theory
as derivative from ontology. When he wrote the book, Maclntyre had not ad-
equately thought through the implications for the history of philosophy of his
newly found commitment to tradition. Therefore, like Heidegger, he wrote of
"the tradition" in the singular. Morally, it was "the tradition of the virtues".
Philosophically, it was "Aristotelian". Like Heidegger, he regards Aristotle's
Nicomachean Ethics as foundational for later tradition, but, unlike Heidegger,
he attributes that status to the entire text and not just to Book Six. Virtue he
therefore understands as an essential concept for an Aristotelian moral theory.
Even more central is the concept of good.
Elsewhere, I have emphasized the influence of Gadamer on Maclntyre's initial
turn to Aristotelianism. What should here be added is the underlying influence
of Catholic, scholastic and Thomist tradition. Heidegger's own early ontotheol-
ogy derived from this tradition, and he spent his life attempting to escape it.
Maclntyre was not thrown into this tradition as was Heidegger, but his philo-
sophical engagement with it began in 1947, at the same time as his engagement
with Marxism and, initially through Sartre, with Heideggerianism. His A Short
History of Ethics began by tracing the genealogy of the concepts of good and
virtue, but it was not until After Virtue that he was able to articulate these

40 Kelvin Knight
concepts in elaborating a moral theory. That he was able to do so owed far
less to Gadamer than to Thomism. Although, like German neo-Aristotelians,
the tradition that After Virtue purported to rehabilitate was one of practical
philosophy, the concept of good that defined Maclntyre's Aristotelianism was
one that identified it as a telos. Here, Maclntyre's Aristotelianism was already
thoroughly Thomistic and unHeideggerian. Gadamer had accepted the idea of
the good as a telos or end in the sense of an intentional goal but, even in After
Virtue, Maclntyre intended something more ontological and natural. Heideg-
ger and Arendt both consigned any such idea to the tradition. For them, any
specification of human potential as natural is a limitation of possibility.
In After Virtue, Maclntyre, like Arendt, described teleology in terms of
'means' and 'ends'. Unlike Arendt, he accepted the idea of an end in itself
and, also, (following an English tradition of interpreting Ethics Six; Knight
2007, 135-136) that virtue is a 'constitutive' or 'internal means' to the end of
the specifically human good. As Maclntyre puts it, following moral rules and
cultivating such excellences of character as courage, truthfulness, temperance
and justice is what progresses us from our 'untutored' state to the human end
or telos of rational self-fulfilment. Whereas the wealth, health and suchlike that
Aristotle called 'external goods' are means to the human telos insofar as they en-
able us to cultivate our internal good, the virtues or excellences are constituents
of that good, so that exercising the virtues forms us into the kinds of being we
have the natural potential to become. On this account, to look to the good is
to look to one's own being, and to act morally is to act for one's own good.
Conceived neither as an external standard nor as an end in itself but as a means
to such an end, morality might be justified in a way that meets the Nietzschean
challenge.
What is novel about After Virtue is not its famous rejection of Aristotle's
'metaphysical biology' but its proposition that some new teleological justification
of morality must be elaborated in its place. What the book substitutes for
'metaphysical biology' is social theory, suggesting that every moral philosophy
"presupposes a sociology" (Maclntyre 2007, 23). Sociology here substitutes for
ontology, in a way that is profoundly anti-Nietzschean, anti-Heideggerian, and
anti-Arendtian, although what Maclntyre intends is not the idea of society as a
historical totality proposed by Hegel or Marx. Rather, he extends the idea of
the good as the telos of an individual actor to an idea of goods as tele of what
he describes as shared, social practices.
This concept of 'practices' is new to the Aristotelian tradition, and Maclntyre
makes no attempt to equate it with either traditional' energeiai' or 'praxeis'. To
call practices human energeiai would be to imply that each is universally pred-
icable of any fully formed human being, whereas Maclntyre's practices are far
more contingent and particularistic than this. The thought that Aristotelian
ethics is 'particularistic' has been popularized by Martha Nussbaum, John Mc-
Dowell, Terence Irwin and others. Their stress upon the contingency of actions
and the ethical limits of rule-following, and therefore upon the need for phronesis
or practical judgement, certainly shares much with Arendt. It also shares some-
thing with what the early Heidegger said of phronesis, and even with what he

After Tradition?: Heidegger or Maclntyre, Aristotle and Marx 41
made of phronesis in elaborating his idea of Dasein. And it also certainly shares
much with what Maclntyre says of Aristotle and of ethics. But what Maclntyre
says of practices is particularistic in a further sense. Practices are not like indi-
vidual praxeis or actions, and are not at all like events. On the contrary, they are
ongoing sources of rules and standards by which actions are guided and judged.
In this, they are more like traditions. What they are most like in Aristotelian
terms are technai, productive crafts, and Maclntyre often says that to become a
practitioner is "to learn as an apprentice learns" (e.g. Maclntyre 1990a). Such
practices include scientific and other theoretical disciplines aiming at universal
truths. Evidently, Maclntyre's idea of practices contravenes what the likes of
Arendt and Gadamer regard as crucial conceptual distinctions.
Maclntyre illustrates practices' particularity by reference to the phenomenol-
ogy of colour and the practice of painting. The ability to distinguish black from
white might be considered a universal aptitude of anyone with sight, but Macln-
tyre cites Vincent van Gogh's ability to discriminate between the many shades
of both black and white in the paintings of Franz Hals. He cites van Gogh
as
"someone who had learned to see, really to see colors", and (following Adolf
Reinach) cites such learning as an example of "the phenomenological way of see-
ing". The capacity "to recognize minute sameness and difference in color" might
be universal, but its "development and exercise" is particular to those "engaged
in attending to the same phenomena" as were Hals and van Gogh in the "co-
operative activity" of painting. It is those who have learned to paint who can
"confirm" or "disconfirm" an individual's judgement about colour. (Maclntyre
2006a, 20; Maclntyre's emphasis) This practical particularity is only implied in
Maclntyre's account of the phenomenologically impersonal way of seeing, but he
spells it out in detail when he cites van Gogh on Hals elsewhere in elaborating
his account of practices (Maclntyre 2006b).
As Maclntyre says in After Virtue, every practice has goods particular and
"internal" to it that its participants accept as ends for them to pursue and actu-
alize, and these goods are of two kinds. "There is first of all the excellence of the
products, both the excellence in performance by" such practitioners as
portrait
painters and the excellence of, for example, each portrait produced. Secondly,
there is the "good of a certain kind of life", such as the life of a painter. (Macln-
tyre 2007, 189-190) This second kind of good internal to a practice is important
for the narrative unity and intelligibility of lives, a central aspect of a life that
is lived well being the individual's progress in achieving excellence within the
practices in which she engages. Productive crafts are paradigmatic in that they
aim at some end separate from
the practitioner herself, so that it is by sub-
ordinating her untutored desires to a shared idea of a good that an individual
learns to acknowledge the authority of impersonal standards of excellence. It is
through emulating what Maclntyre calls such "objective" standards (Maclntyre
1993)
that individuals learn to better themselves, making themselves account-
able to others with whom they share those standards established in actualizing
some
common good that is itself irreducible to their untutored desires.
Such internal goods and tele Maclntyre contrasts with those goals of power
and money for which Arendt attacks what she calls Hobbes' 'ideological' con-

42 Kelvin Knight
ception of action. Power and money are, Maclntyre specifies, 'goods external
to practices'. This distinction between goods internal and external to practices
enables him to oppose both Hobbes and any claim that action should aim at
no good apart from the actor. Hobbes is mistaken in
proposing that the accu-
mulation of such external goods as power and money is rightly pursued for its
own
sake, or for the mere satisfaction of untutored desires. Nonetheless, power
and money are goods and are, therefore, worth pursuing, but only as efficacious
means in pursuit of goods internal to social practices or in enabling individuals
to cultivate those goods internal to themselves as human beings.
In Whose Justice?
Which Rationality? Maclntyre elaborates a second con-
ceptual distinction between kinds of good. Power and money are not only goods
'external' to human beings and to social practices; they are also 'goods of effec-
tiveness'. This expression neatly and positively encapsulates what is good about
power and money, as well as what is good about skills that might be regarded
as internal to human beings. Such goods of effectiveness Maclntyre juxtaposes
to goods of excellence. Again, a point of this conceptual distinction
is to indi-
cate a hierarchy of goods. Goods of excellence (like goods internal to practices)
are superlative goods in themselves, whereas goods of effectiveness (like goods
external to practices) are good in a way that is more conditional and derivative.
Goods of excellence appear to be of two kinds. First, there are goods of
excellence that are internal to human beings as such; that is, as naturally inter-
dependent animals capable of independent practical reasoning. These are the
specifically moral virtues, understood in a way that is Aristotelian in a Thomistic
and fully traditional sense. What might be differentiated as a second kind of
good of excellence
pertains to those standards of what Maclntyre has already
called 'excellence in performance'. These standards Maclntyre now character-
izes, in Whose Justice? Which Rationality?, as a kind of good internal not so
much to shared practices but to individuals as practitioners. They are objective
standards that it is good for human subjects to emulate and achieve in their
own
actions, even though this objectivity is something particular to the prac-
tice. They are not simply skills, which, with Aristotle, Maclntyre says can be
exercised or not, and can be exercised to effect either good or bad ends. Rather,
we
might say, they are skilful actions performed in accordance with particular,
shared, practical standards of goodness. It is in emulating the standards so far
established within a practice that an actor advances his or her
own excellence as
a practitioner, and, in pursuing the good internal to a practice, she is habituated
not only into the skills particular to that practice but also into the moral virtues
necessary to sustain and progress any such practice. In this way, practices are
the schools of the virtues.
Both kinds of good of excellence—of individual human beings as such, and
of individuals as practitioners—are internal to human beings as actors, but the
second kind again refers to social practices of producing and theorizing. In this,
to repeat, Maclntyre's conceptual distinctions cut across those that Arendt and
other post-Heideggerian practical philosophers regard as fundamentally Aris-
totelian.
In After Virtue, Maclntyre proposes his sociology of
practices as the pre-

After Tradition?: Heidegger or Maclntyre, Aristotle and Marx 43
supposition of a 'narrative' and teleological conception of the self, in which the
person's desires are educated and her actions unified through her quest for the
good life. This good is not stipulated at the start of her life but something
that, insofar as her life is coherently recountable and intelligible, she progres-
sively understands as she advances toward her
goals, so that she can explain
how she advanced from who she was to who she is, and to what future condition
she intends to progress. Insofar as one's life is ideologically ordered, one may
understand the place of particular goods
within it by reference to its good as a
whole.
Some of what Maclntyre says of practices might be thought redolent of some
of what is said by Heidegger. If so,
the great difference that must be appre-
ciated is that Heidegger celebrates practice or practices that are prereflective
and preconceptual. To conceptualize practice he regards as inauthentic, as di-
recting us away from practice's 'everydayness'. In contrast, although Maclntyre
acknowledges that practices often comprise something like a Heideggerian back-
ground to fully conscious intentionality and action, he thinks that practices and
practitioners benefit from explicating shared goals and standards. Moreover, the
conservative rationale of Heidegger and other theorists of practice's tacitness is,
on Maclntyre's account, now rendered untenable. This is because practices are
now not concealed by philosophical tradition but are, he argues, suppressed by
state and corporate institutions. To this, Heideggerians are theoretically blind.
This is why Maclntyre works to reconceptualize practice.
3. Maclntyre and Marx
Maclntyre "remain[s] deeply indebted to Marx's critique of the economic, social,
and cultural order of capitalism" (Maclntyre 2007, xvi),
and what is seldom
appreciated of his arguments that moral philosophy requires social theory and
that rival rationalities conflict is their debt to Marx. In neither of these respects
does Marx share anything with Heidegger. Nonetheless, as Arendt's attention
to the young, Feuerbachian Marx should remind us, Marx did share something
with Heidegger. Marx, too, thought that human beings should not look to some
alien ideal of good or god, that such ideas are reifications of human attributes
and activities, and that the elemental human activity is production. Maclntyre
agrees with Marx's critique of Feuerbach. For Feuerbach, human beings are
alienated from their own activity because they fallaciously project their powers
on to some merely theoretical being (Wartofsky 1977, especially 328-340). For
Marx, in contrast, human beings are alienated from their productive practice
because the social structure they inhabit really does take ownership and control
of that activity away from them. For Feuerbach, as for Heidegger, we should
reform our consciousness by looking to our own being and acting. For Marx,
as
for Maclntyre, we need to change our shared social actuality, because social
actuality necessarily conditions individual consciousness. In this, sociological
sense, Maclntyre may be regarded as a materialist critic of Heidegger's German
ideology.

44 Kelvin Knight
The possessively individualist conception of the self that was promoted by
Hobbes and condemned by Arendt is explained by Marx. For Marx, the self is
naturally social but ideas predicable of the self are socially and historically con-
stituted. Capitalist society promotes a privatized idea of the good of commodity
acquisition that is necessary to the needs of market capital accumulation and is
legitimated by liberalism. Maclntyre agrees here with Marx, and his critique of
the instrumentalist justification of action therefore exceeds that of Heideggerians.
He adds that a possessive conception of the self can never offer an adequately
comprehensive idea of the human good, because liberalism's idea of a good that
is privatized is also of goods that are incommensurable and, therefore, of a self
that is compartmentalized in its pursuit of such goods.
Maclntyre extends his critique of instrumentalism in juxtaposing practices to
'institutions'. What he intends by this term is, paradigmatically, capitalist and
managerial corporations, as well as capitalism's bureaucratic state. Institutions,
he says, "form a single causal order" with the practices they organize, and yet
are also in constant tension with them (Maclntyre 2007, 194). If practices aim
at
particular or internal goods, then institutions aim at the acquisition and distribu-
tion of such external goods as money, power and status. Practices need external
goods, as do individuals, but, just as the good life for an individual depends on
her subordination of external to internal goods rather than her accumulation of
external goods for their own sake, so too does the good of practices—and there-
fore of individuals as practitioners—require that money, power and authority be
organized for the sake of goods internal to practices rather than substituted for
their pursuit. A teleological ordering of social relations would subordinate insti-
tutions to practices, and the reification of capital as something to be subserved
by human beings is only one expression of the contrary manipulation of ordinary
actors' shared practices by managerial institutions. It is Marx's reduction of all
social relations to those of production, and therefore of all contemporary power
to that of capital, that made it easy for Stalinists to present what Maclntyre
calls 'state capitalism' (and what Arendt called 'totalitarianism') as if it were
'socialism'.
Like Arendt, Maclntyre understands Marx as attempting to break from
Hegel's philosophy but nonetheless as continuing to operate within Hegel's con-
ceptual scheme. In this, he contests Louis Althusser's claim that Marx shifted
through "an epistemological break" to the paradigm "of a new theoretical science"
(Maclntyre 1991, 603), even if he concurs with Althusser in rejecting Lukacsian
historicism (albeit on different grounds than those of Althusser's "generalizing
scientism"; Maclntyre 1976, 158). "It was", he says, "an Hegelian mistake to
envisage history as the self-realization of the Idea" (Maclntyre 1998b, 134), and
it remains a mistake to envisage history as the self-realization of our species-
essence. Hegel imputes a universal and teleological rationality to history and,
therefore, to the actuality of capitalist 'civil society' as a 'system of needs', and
Marx retains this imputation. It is to this extent, only, that there is plausibility
in Arendt's characterization of Marx as the past prophet of present capitalism.
Although Maclntyre shares much of her critique of society insofar as this is un-
derstood as the civil society of capitalism, his account of practices, like Marx's

After Tradition?: Heidegger or Maclntyre, Aristotle and Marx 45
account of production, demonstrates that social relations extend far earlier and
deeper than modern institutions. Although he, like Marx, socializes teleology
(and although he acknowledges that "it was an Hegelian insight to understand
history as partially the realization of a series of ideas"; 1998b, 134), Maclntyre
does not historicize it. He has never imputed to capitalism the
degree of systemic
rationality that Marx concedes. What he takes from Marx's economics—which is
now more than he did (Maclntyre 2006c, 152)—is only the labour theory of value
and of exploitation, and therefore the reality of social conflict, and not every-
thing else that Marx proposes follows from his theory of value in exchange. As for
liberalism, he acknowledges its rationality whilst asserting that it is mistaken.
In rethinking Marx's premisses, the most Maclntyre concedes to liberalism is
that its "mistake [is] embodied in institutionalized social life" (Maclntyre 1998a,
229), that its rationality is indeed actualized in capitalism and in its sovereign,
bureaucratic nation-state.
Maclntyre regards the Theses on Feuerbach as the culmination of Marx's
philosophy, pointing in the direction of a road down which Marx did not go but
along which Maclntyre proposes we proceed in order to transcend "the stand-
point of civil society" (Maclntyre 1998a, 224, 234). This is not the road of
"theory divorced from practice", which is "characteristic of civil society", but of
"a particular kind of practice, practice informed by a particular kind
of theory
rooted in that same practice" (Maclntyre 1998a, 225, 230). What he means here
by "a particular kind of practice" is what in After Virtue he called practices.
These he here "stand[s] in sharp contrast to the practical life of civil society".
Despite acknowledging that something very like his own idea of practices is im-
plied by Marx's Hegelian reference to " objective activity", Maclntyre insists that
"it is a contrast best expressed in Aristotelian rather than in Hegelian terms"
(Maclntyre 1998a, 225; Maclntyre's emphasis). As evidence, he points to Lan-
castrian and Silesian weavers of Marx's time. "What made the practice of the[se]
hand-loom weavers revolutionary" was their own "mode of life", which gave them
a conception "of a good and of virtues adequate to the moral needs of resistance"
to capitalism, to "proletarianization", and to all of the alienation, exploitation
and demoralization that this entails (Maclntyre 1998a, 232). They were able to
"transform themselves and educate themselves through their own self transfor-
mative activity", and their militant defence of this shared practice in resistance
to the pressure of capitalist exchange relations was such that it was "entitled
to be called 'revolutionary' " (Maclntyre 1998a, 231, referring to "the first and
third theses"). Marx, Maclntyre suggests, was prevented from seeing this by his
Hegelian historicism, which obliged him to view capitalism as progressive.
On a post-Heideggerian understanding, Aristotelianism is defined precisely by
its divorce of theory from practice and of practice from production. What Mac-
lntyre here intends by "Aristotelian [... ] terms" is therefore something that con-
trasts sharply with not only the theory and practice of capitalist civil society but
also the theories of practice proposed by Arendt and Gadamer. In controverting
the standpoint of capitalism, Maclntyre's Aristotelianism also contravenes the
distinctions that are characteristic of such neo-Aristotelian practical philosophy.
An Aristotelian theory of social practice that is rooted in the very activities that

46 Kelvin Knight
it theorizes—including both productive crafts and theoretical disciplines—is a
specific kind of Aristotelianism, and what is most striking is Maclntyre's claim
that this "Aristotelian" theory is already latent within a wide range of shared
practices. Ordinary "practices have
an Aristotelian structure", he says, adding
that what we "have already learned" as ordinary actors may be "informed and
enriched by philosophical theory" (Maclntyre 1998c, 151).
Maclntyre is no relativist. He is therefore happy to equate the Hegelian
terminology of "objective activity" with what he presents as the Aristotelian
terminology of "practices". To this extent, he is still agreeing with Marx when
he says that "to regard individuals as distinct and apart from their social re-
lationships is a mistake of theory" that is "embodied in institutionalized social
life", so that under capitalism there is
"a contradiction" whereby "human beings
are generally deprived of a true understanding of themselves and their relation-
ships" (Maclntyre 1998a, 228-229). Indeed, to this extent he even agrees with
Althusser's "understanding of capitalism as a set of structures that inescapably
function in and through modes of dissimulation" (Maclntyre 1991a, 604) but
fail to express the totality of social relations. On this account, practices can
escape
capitalism's instrumental rationality and enjoy a relative autonomy from
capitalist structures, even if handloom weavers were defeated in their collective
attempt to make their own history.
Instead of taking Maclntyre's Aristotelian road after writing the Theses,
Marx neglected their implication that "objective standards of goodness, Tight-
ness and virtue" might be "articulated within practices" (Maclntyre 1998a, 233).
Marx therefore never developed the idea that "individuals discover in the ends
of [a] practice goods common to all who engage in it [... ] which they can make
their own only by allowing their participation in the activity to effect a trans-
formation in the desires which they initially
brought with them to the activity",
whereby "there comes about a 'coincidence of the changing of circumstances and
of [the] human activity of self-changing'" (Maclntyre 1998a, 225-226, quoting
the third thesis). Goods that are concealed by capitalism are revealed through
participation in such cooperative practices.
Marx did not take Maclntyre's Aristotelian road because, in attempting
to
break
from Hegel's philosophy, he prematurely abandoned all philosophical en-
quiry. Instead of looking for examples of alternative practice and rationality
(as he had in 1844; Marx 1975, 365; Maclntyre 1998d, 46-47), he retained the
Hegelian idea of history as the source of a universal truth apprehensible only
by those initiated into the correct theory. He therefore allowed what became
the Marxist tradition to take the erroneous methodological road of "the ide-
ology of bureaucratic authority" and "managerial expertise" (Maclntyre 1998e;
1973; 2007, 74-108). Against this, Maclntyre argues that, in shared practice,
the highest kind of knowledge is that which is commonly recognized as such
by actors themselves, which includes knowledge of goods, skills, and objectively
valid reasoning.
It is, in part, because he himself retained an Hegelian epistemology that
Marx's successors so often fell into the error against which he had warned in his
third Thesis; that of regarding "human beings in two incompatible ways, on the

Random documents with unrelated
content Scribd suggests to you:

© Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp.; 26Mar37; LP7092. (See
also Seventh Heaven, 26Mar37; LP7074)
THE SEVENTH SHERIFF. 1923. 5 reels.
Credits: Written and directed by Richard Hatton.
© Arrow Film Corp.; 19Nov23; LP19629.
THE SEVENTH SON. 1917. 1 reel.
Credits: Hal Reed.
© Broadway Star Feature Co., Inc.; 30Jan17; LP10128.
SEVENTY AND SEVEN. Black Cat. 1917. 2 reels.
© Essanay Film Mfg. Co.; 17Jul17; LP11100.
70,000 WITNESSES. 1932. 8 reels, sd. From the novel by Cortland
Fitzsimmons.
Credits: Producer, Charles R. Rogers; director, Ralph Murphy;
screenplay, Garrett Fort, Robert N. Lee; dialogue, P. J. Wolfson,
Allen Rivkin.
© Paramount Publix Corp.; 1Sep32; LP3226.
SEVILLE IN FAIR TIME. (Paramount-Burton Holmes Travel Picture)
1921. 1 reel.
© Burton Holmes Lectures, Inc. (Burton Holmes, author);
6Nov21; MP2070.
SEWAGE DISPOSAL. 1930. 1 reel.
© Eastman Teaching Films, Inc. (George W. Hoke, author);
7Feb30; MP1314.
SEX. Presented by J. Parker Read, Jr. 1920. 7 reels.
Credits: Director, Fred Niblo; story, C. Gardner Sullivan.
© J. Parker Read, Jr.; 11Mar20; LP14904.
THE SEX LIFE OF THE POLYP. SEE Robert Benchley in The Sex Life
of the Polyp.

THE SEX LURE. © 1916.
Credits: Scenario and direction by Ivan Abramson; story, Don
Dundas.
© Ivan Film Productions, Inc. (Don Dundas, author); title, descr.
& 22 prints, 8Nov16; LU9473.
THE SEYMOUR HOUSE PARTY. 1915. 1 reel.
Credits: Director, George E. Reehm.
© Biograph Co.; 19Sep15; LP6416.
SEZ O'REILLY TO MACNAB. Gainsborough. 1937. 9 reels, sd.
Credits: Director, William Beaudine; story, Howard Irving Young;
screenplay, Leslie Arliss; dialogue, Marriott Edgar; music director,
Louis Levy.
© Gaumont-British Pictures Corp. of America (Gaumont British
Picture Corp., Ltd., author); 16Sep37; LP7777.
SEZ YOU. Fey Production, Ltd. 1932. 1 reel, sd.
Credits: Director, Lou Breslow; story and dialogue, Ray Mayer;
editor, William Austin.
© Columbia Pictures Corp.; 4Feb32; LP2864.
SH! THE OCTOPUS. 1937. 6 reels, sd. From plays by Ralph Spence,
Ralph Murphy, and Donald Gallaher.
Credits: Director, William McGann; screenplay, George Bricker;
dialogue editor, Hugh Cummings; film editor, Clarence Kolster.
© Warner Bros. Pictures, Inc.; 14Dec37; LP7831.
THE SHABBIES. 1915. 2 reels.
Credits: Director, Wilfrid North.
© The Vitagraph Co. of America (Agnes C. Johnston, author);
30Sep15; LP6578.
SHACKLE SHOPPING WITH MR. SHEPARD. 1928. 1 reel.

© Willys-Overland, Inc. (Raymond J. Faller, author); 9May28;
MP5034.
SHACKLES. Big U. 1916. 1 reel.
Credits: Producer, George Cochrane; story, Laura Oakley;
scenario, F. McGrew Willis.
© Universal Film Mfg. Co., Inc.; 24Feb16; LP7700.
SHACKLES OF GOLD. 1922. 6 reels. From the play "Samson" by
Henri Bernstein.
Credits: Director, Herbert Brenon; screen version, Paul H. Sloane.
© William Fox (Fox Film Corp., author); 7May22; LP17858.
THE SHADOW. Victor. 1916. 1-1/2 reels.
Credits: Director, Allan J. Holubar; scenario, E. B. Lewis.
© Universal Film Mfg. Co., Inc.; 24Nov16; LP9599.
THE SHADOW. 1937. 6 reels, sd.
Credits: Director, C. C. Coleman, Jr.; story, Milton Raison;
screenplay, Arthur T. Horman; film editor, Byron Robinson; music
director, Morris Stoloff.
© Columbia Pictures Corp. of California, Ltd.; 22Nov37; LP7652.
THE SHADOW AND THE SHADE. 1915. 2 reels.
Credits: Director, Edw. J. Le Saint.
© Selig Polyscope Co. (Ellis Parker Butler, author); 10Jul15;
LP5809.
THE SHADOW BETWEEN. 1932. 7 reels.
Credits: Direction and scenario, Norman Walker.
© Powers Pictures, Inc.; 12Sep32; LP3292.
SHADOW BOXING (DEFENSIVE). (Models in Motion) 1931. 243 ft.

© Eastman Teaching Films, Inc. (George W. Hoke, author);
13May31; MP2834.
THE SHADOW DANCE DANCED BY S AHARET. © 1914.
© Commercial Biophone Co. (Mester Projections, author); title &
2 prints, 8Aug14; descr., 18Aug14; MU221.
THE SHADOW LAUGHS. 1933. 8 reels, sd.
Credits: Written and directed by Arthur Hoerl.
© Trojan Pictures, Inc.; 24Jan33; LP3609.
THE SHADOW OF A DOUBT. © 1916.
Credits: Director, Ray Physioc.
© Equitable Motion Pictures Corp. (Shannon Fife, author); title,
descr. & 272 prints, 11Apr16; LU8052.
SHADOW OF DOUBT. 1935. 8 reels, sd., b&w. From the story by
Arthur Somers Roche.
Credits: Producer, Lucien Hubbard; director, George B. Seitz;
screenplay, Wells Root; film editor, Basil Wrangell; synchronized
score, Oscar Radin.
© Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Corp.; 12Feb35; LP5350.
THE SHADOW OF EVIL. © 1913.
© Silvio Villa (Sciemenga & Pastrone Itala Film, author); title,
descr. & 44 prints, 6Mar13; LU440.
THE SHADOW OF FEAR. 1915. 1 reel.
Credits: Director, William Humphrey.
© The Vitagraph Co. of America (Mary Gale, author); 20Aug15;
LP6297.
THE SHADOW OF HER PAST. © 1916.
© Pathe Exchange, Inc. (Lucien Nueratore, author); title, descr.
& 85 prints, 14Jul16; LU8690.

THE SHADOW OF ROSALIE BYRNES. 1920. 5 reels.
Credits: Director, George Archainbaud; story, Grace Sartwell
Mason; scenario, R. Cecil Smith.
© Selznick Pictures Corp.; 7Apr20; LP14986.
THE SHADOW OF SUSPICION. 1921. 2 reels.
Credits: Director, Edward Kull; story and scenario, George H.
Plympton.
© Universal Film Mfg. Co., Inc.; 1Jul21; LP16727.
THE SHADOW OF SUSPICION. Mustang. 1925. 2 reels.
Credits: Director, Edward Kull; story and scenario, George H.
Plympton.
© Universal Pictures Corp.; 5Mar25; LP21233.
SHADOW OF THE DRAGON. (Vagabond Adventure Series, no. 23)
The Van Beuren Corp. 1931. 1 reel.
© RKO Pathe Distributing Corp.; 8Mar31; MP2508.
THE SHADOW OF THE EAST. 1924. 6 reels.
Credits: Director, George Archainbaud; story, E. M. Hull;
scenario, Frederic Hatton, Fannie Hatton.
© William Fox (Fox Film Corp., author); 27Jan24; LP19881.
THE SHADOW OF THE LAW. Baird-Beck. © 1926. From the novel
by Henry Chapman Ford.
Credits: Director, Wallace Worsley.
© Associated Exhibitors, Inc. (Leah Baird and Grover Jones,
authors); title, descr. & 79 prints, 22Jan26; LU22286.
SHADOW OF THE LAW. 1930. 9 reels. From the novel "The
Quarry" by John A. Moroso.
Credits: Director, Louis Gasnier; story, Max Marcin; scenario,
John Farrow; film editor, Bob Bassler.

© Paramount Publix Corp.; 13Jun30; LP1357.
THE SHADOW OF THE PAST. 1914. 3 reels.
© Vitagraph Co. of America (Marguerite Bertsch, author);
27Apr14; LP2610.
THE SHADOW OF THE ROPE. SEE Out of the Shadow.
THE SHADOW ON THE WALL. Gotham. 1925. 6 reels. Adapted
from the book "The Picture on the Wall" by J. Breckenridge Ellis.
Credits: Director, Reaves Eason; continuity, Elsie Werner.
© Lumas Film Corp.; 16Nov25; LP22010.
SHADOW RANCH. 1930. 6 reels.
Credits: Producer, Harry Cohn; director, Louis King.
© Columbia Pictures Corp.; 15Sep30; LP1580.
THE SHADOW SINISTER. Big U. 1916. 1 reel.
Credits: Albert Russell; producer, A. W. Rice.
© Universal Film Mfg. Co., Inc.; 18Sep16; LP9136.
THE SHADOW STRIKES. Presented by Edward L. Alperson. 1937. 6
reels, sd. Based on the story "The Ghost of the Manor" by
Maxwell Grant.
Credits: Producers, Max and Arthur Alexander; director, Lynn
Shores; adaptation, Al Martin, Rex Taylor; screenplay, Al Martin.
© Grand National Films, Inc.; 9Jul37; LP7295.
SHADOW THEORY. 1928. 1 reel. Adapted from Krazy Kat cartoon
by George Herriman.
Credits: Ben Harrison, Manny Gould.
© Paramount Famous Lasky Corp.; 28Jan28; MP4672.
A SHADOWED SHADOW . Joker. 1916. 1 reel.
Credits: Jack Byrne; director, William Beaudine.

© Universal Film Mfg. Co., Inc.; 21Oct16; LP9367.
SHADOWING HENRY. 1917. 1 reel.
Credits: Written and directed by Mr. and Mrs. Drew.
© Metro Pictures Corp.; 20Dec17; LP11856.
SHADOWLAND SCREEN REVIEW. 1921. 1 reel.
Credits: Editor, Arthur DeVere Storey.
© Arthur DeVere Storey; 27Jan21; MP1927.
SHADOWS. © 1915.
Credits: Scenario, Max Goldberg.
© Mica Film Corp. (Max Goldberg, author); title, descr. & 21
prints, 2Mar15; LU4570.
SHADOWS. © 1918.
© The Haworth Pictures Corp. (Sessue Hayakawa, author); title,
descr. & 256 prints, 5Dec18; LU13103.
SHADOWS. Goldwyn. 1918. 5 reels.
Credits: Director, Reginald Barker; story, Willard Mack.
© Diva Pictures, Inc.; 31Dec18; LP13268.
SHADOWS. Presented by B. P. Schulberg. 1922. 83 min. Based on
the story "Ching, Ching, Chinaman" by Wilbur Daniel Steele.
Credits: Producer and director, Tom Forman; scenario, Eve
Unsell, Hope Loring.
© Preferred Pictures, Inc.; 7Oct22; LP18347.
SHADOWS. (A Laemmle Novelty) Snappy. 1928. 1 reel.
Credits: Director, Jacques Rollens.
© Universal Pictures Corp.; 27Sep28; LP25660.
SHADOWS. SEE Head over Heels.

SHADOWS AND SUNSHINE. © 1916.
© Pathe Exchange, Inc. (Balboa Amusement Co., author); title,
descr. & 119 prints, 28Sep16; LU9204.
SHADOWS FROM THE PAST. 1915. 4 reels.
Credits: Richard Ridgely.
© Thomas A. Edison, Inc.; 6Aug15; LP6049.
THE SHADOWS OF A GREAT CITY. © 1915.
© Popular Plays & Players, Inc. (Herbert Blache and Aaron
Hoffman, authors); title & 52 prints, 28May15; descr., 8Jul15;
LU5797.
THE SHADOWS OF A GREAT CITY. 1915. 5 reels.
© Metro Pictures Corp.; 5Apr15; LP6423.
SHADOWS OF CONSCIENCE. © 1921.
Credits: Producer and director, John P. McCarthy; story and
photoplay, John P. McCarthy, Francis Powers; editor, Fred S.
Allen.
© John P. McCarthy (John P. McCarthy and Francis Powers,
authors); title & 173 prints, 19Sep21; descr., 20Sep21; LU17075.
SHADOWS OF CONSCIENCE. © 1921. 7 reels.
Credits: Producer, W. D. Russell.
© William D. Russell (Francis Powers and John P. McCarthy,
authors); title, descr. & 968 prints, 25Nov21; LU17385.
SHADOWS OF DOUBT. © 1915.
© Pathé Frères, France; title, descr. & 52 prints, 25Mar15;
LU4803.
SHADOWS OF HER PAST. 1918. 2 reels.
Credits: Henry Lehrman.
© William Fox (Fox Film Corp., author); 6Jan18; LP11927.

SHADOWS OF PARIS. Paramount. Presented by Adolph Zukor and
Jesse L. Lasky. 1924. 6,549 ft. From the play "Mon Homme" by
André Picard and Francis Carco.
Credits: Producer and director, Herbert Brenon; scenario, Eve
Unsell; adaptation, Fred Jackson.
© Famous Players-Lasky Corp.; 27Feb24; LP19949.
SHADOWS OF SIN. © 1914.
© Worlds Leader Features; title, descr. & 22 prints, 10Jan14;
LU1968.
SHADOWS OF SING SING. 1933. 7 reels, sd.
Credits: Director, Phil Rosen; story, Katherine Scola, Doris Malloy;
screenplay, Albert DeMond; film editor, John Rawlins.
© Columbia Pictures Corp.; 1Dec33; LP4299.
SHADOWS OF SUSPICION. Laemmle. 1916. 1 reel.
Credits: Arthur Maude, Constance Crawley; producer, Donald
MacDonald.
© Universal Film Mfg. Co., Inc.; 28Oct16; LP9415.
SHADOWS OF THE MOULIN ROUGE. 1914 . 4 reels.
Credits: Produced and written by Alice Blache.
© Solax Co.; 7Jan14; LP1978.
SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT. 1928. 7 reels, b&w.
Credits: Adaptation and direction, D. Ross Lederman; story, Ted
Shane; film editor, Dan Sharits.
© Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Distributing Corp.; 6Oct28; LP25728.
SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT. SEE The Gangsters.
SHADOWS OF THE NORTH. 1923. 5 reels.
Credits: Director, Robert F. Hill; story, Edison Marshall; scenario,
Paul Schofield.

© Universal Pictures Corp.; 28Jul23; LP19255.
SHADOWS OF THE ORIENT. 1937. 7 reels, sd.
Credits: Director, Burt Lynwood; original story, L. E. Heifetz;
screenplay and adaptation, Charles Francis Royal.
© Monogram Pictures Corp.; 23Aug37; LP7444.
SHADOWS OF THE PAST. 1919. 5 reels.
Credits: Director, Ralph Ince; editors, Mr. and Mrs. George
Randolph Chester.
© Vitagraph Co. of America; 26Jul19; LP13995.
SHADOWS OF THE SEA. Presented by Lewis J. Selznick. 1922. 5
reels.
Credits: Producer and director, Alan Crosland; story, Frank A.
Dazey; scenario, Lewis Allen Browne.
© Selznick Pictures Corp.; 24Jan22; LP17494.
SHADOWS OVER SHANGHAI. Released through Grand National.
1938. 7 reels, sd.
Credits: Producer, Franklyn Warner; director, Charles Lamont;
original story, Richard B. Sale; screenplay, Joseph Hoffman; film
editor, Bernard Loftus.
© Fine Arts Pictures; 14Oct38; LP8457.
SHADOWS TO SUNSHINE. © 1939. 1,565 ft., color, 16 mm.
© Staub & Son, Inc. (Raymond W. Staub, author); title, descr. &
4 prints, 26Jul39; MU9546.
THE SHADY LADY. 1929. 7 reels. From the story suggested by
Leonard Praskins and Richard L. Sharpe.
Credits: Producer, Ralph Black; director, Edward H. Griffith; story
and continuity, Jack Jungmeyer; film editor, Doane Harrison.
© Pathe Exchange, Inc.; 8Jan29; LP8.

SHAKE 'EM UP. © 1921.
© Pathe Exchange, Inc. (Hal E. Roach, author); title, descr. & 9
prints, 6Dec21; LU17302.
SHAKE IT UP WITH MORAN & CHALLIS AND THEIR CHEERFUL
STEPPERS. 1929. 1 reel, sd.
© The Vitaphone Corp.; 7Nov29; MP827.
SHAKE, MR. SHAKESPEARE. 1936. 2 reels, sd.
Credits: Director, Roy Mack; story, Cyrus Wood.
© The Vitaphone Corp.; 26Oct36; LP6658.
SHAKE YOUR POWDER PUFF. (Merrie Melodies) 1934. 1 reel, sd.
Credits: Producer, Leon Schlesinger; supervision, Isadore
Freleng; animation, Bob McKimson, Bob Clampett; musical score,
Bernard B. Brown.
© Warner Bros. Pictures, Inc.; 17Oct34; MP5050.
THE SHAKEDOWN. Jewel. 1928. 7 reels.
Credits: Director, William Wyler; story and continuity, Charles A.
Logue; adaptation, Clarence Marks.
© Universal Pictures Corp.; 7Dec28; LP25907.
SHAKEDOWN. 1936. 6 reels.
Credits: Director, David Selman; story, Barry Shipman;
screenplay, Grace Neville; film editor, Gene Milford.
© Columbia Pictures Corporation of Calif., Ltd.; 13Jul36; LP6468.
SHAKESPEARE WITH TIN EARS. 1933. 2 reels, sd.
Credits: Supervision, Louis Brock; directors, Harry Sweet, Leslie
Goodwins; story, Harry Sweet, Hugh Cummings; film editor,
Tholan Gladden.
© RKO Radio Pictures, Inc.; 1Jun33; LP3929.
A SHAKY FAMILY TREE. (Star Comedy) 1922. 1 reel.

Credits: Director, William Watson; story and scenario, Lew
Lipton.
© Universal Film Manufacturing Co., Inc.; 5May22; LP17833.
SHALL CURFEW RING TO-NIGHT? 1914. Split reel.
© Lubin Mfg. Co. (Edwin Ray Coffin, author); 8Dec14; LP3922.
SHALL WE DANCE. 1937. 12 reels, sd.
Credits: Producer, Pandro S. Berman; director, Mark Sandrich;
story, Lee Loeb, Harold Buchman; adaptation, P. J. Wolfson;
screenplay, Allan Scott, Ernest Pagano; editor, William Hamilton;
music director, Nathaniel Shilkret; music, George Gershwin;
lyrics, Ira Gershwin.
© RKO Radio Pictures, Inc.; 7May37; LP7178.
SHALL WE FORGET. © 1926.
© Pathe Exchange, Inc. (Oliver L. Sellers, author); title, descr. &
46 prints, 29Sep26; LU23157.
SHALL WE FORGIVE HER? Presented by William A. Brady. © 1917.
From the play by Charles Sarver.
Credits: Director, Arthur Ashley.
© World Film Corp. (Charles Sarver, author); title & descr.,
28Sep17; 242 prints, 2Oct17; LU11485.
SHAM. 1921. 5 reels. From the play by Elmer Harris and Geraldine
Bonner.
Credits: Director, Thomas N. Heffron.
© Famous Players-Lasky Corp.; 27Jun21; LP16713.
SHAM POO, THE MAGICIAN. (Headliner Series) 1932. 2 reels, sd.
Credits: Supervision, Louis Brock; director, Harry Sweet; story,
Harry Sweet, Hugh Cummings; film editor, Daniel Mandell.
© RKO Radio Pictures, Inc.; 15Dec32; LP3551.

THE SHAM REALITY. Rex. 1916. 1/2 reel.
Credits: Producer, Francis Ford; scenario, Grace Cunard.
© Universal Film Mfg. Co., Inc.; 7Apr16; LP8039.
SHAME. © 1917.
© John W. Noble; title & descr., 5Sep17; 126 prints, 19Sep17;
LU11454.
SHAME. 1921. 8 reels, b&w, tinted sequences.
Credits: Director, Emmett J. Flynn; story, Max Brand [pseud. of
Frederick Faust]; adaptation and scenario, Emmett J. Flynn,
Bernard McConville.
© William Fox (Fox Film Corp., author); 18Sep21; LP17116.
THE SHAME OF THE BULLCON. Nestor. 1917. 1 reel.
Credits: Director, Allen Curtis; scenario, Tom Gibson.
© Universal Film Mfg. Co., Inc.; 2Nov17; LP11676.
SHAMEFUL BEHAVIOR. Preferred. Presented by J. G. Bachmann.
1926. 6 reels. From the novel by Mrs. Belloc Lowndes.
Credits: Director, Albert Kelley; adaptation, George Scarborough;
continuity, Douglas Bronston.
© Famous Attractions Corp.; 28Sep26; LP23166.
SHAMROCK. 1928. 3 reels. Adapted from the sketch by Edgar Allan
Woolf.
Credits: Scenario and direction, Marcel G. Silver.
© Fox Case Corp.; 14Feb28; LP25023.
SHAMROCK ALLEY. (Big Boy-Juvenile Comedy) 1927. 2 reels.
Credits: Director, Charles Lamont.
© Educational Film Exchanges, Inc.; 27Nov27; LP24749.
THE SHAMROCK HANDICAP. 1926. 6 reels, tinted.

Credits: Director, John Ford; story, Peter B. Kyne; scenario, John
Stone.
© William Fox (Fox Film Corp., author); 26Apr26; LP22716.
SHAMS. SEE Shams of Society.
SHAMS OF SOCIETY. 1921. 6 reels. From "Shams" by Walter
McNamara.
Credits: Director, Thomas B. Walsh; story, Walter McNamara;
adaptation, Mary Murillo, Kenneth O'Hara.
© R-C Pictures Corp.; 18Sep21; LP17065.
SHANGHAI. (A Vagabond Adventure Series) 1932. 1 reel.
Credits: Narrator, Gayne Whitman.
© RKO Pathe Pictures, Inc.; 19May32; MP3307.
SHANGHAI. Presented by Adolph Zukor. 1935. 8 reels.
Credits: Producer, Walter Wanger; director, James Flood; original
screenplay, Gene Towne, Graham Baker, Lynn Starling; film
editor, Otho Lovering.
© Paramount Productions, Inc.; 17Jul35; LP5679.
SHANGHAI BOUND. 1927. 6 reels.
Credits: Director, Luther Reed; story, E. S. O'Reilly; screenplay,
John Goodrich, Ray Harris.
© Paramount Famous Lasky Corp.; 15Oct27; LP24520.
SHANGHAI, CHINA. © 1913.
© Selig Polyscope Co.; title, descr. & 5 prints, 27Mar13; MU43.
SHANGHAI EXPRESS. 1932. 9 reels. Based on the story by Harry
Hervey.
Credits: Director, Josef von Sternberg; screenplay, Jules
Furthman.
© Paramount Publix Corp.; 15Feb32; LP2857.

SHANGHAI LADY. 1929. 7 reels. From the play "Drifting" by John
Colton.
Credits: Director, John S. Robertson.
© Universal Pictures Corp.; 24Oct29; LP789.
SHANGHAI MADNESS. 1933. 5,700 ft., sd.
Credits: Director, John Blystone; story, Frederick Hazlitt Brennan;
adaptation, Austin Parker, Gordon Wong Wellesley; screenplay,
Austin Parker; editor, Margaret Clancy.
© Fox Film Corp.; 21Aug33; LP4115.
SHANGHAIED. © 1912.
© Nordisk Film Co.; title, descr. & 30 prints, 21Nov12; LU122.
SHANGHAIED. Dansk Biograph Co., Copenhagen. © 1914.
© Jacques Greenzweig (Dansk Biograph Co., author); title, descr.
& 46 prints, 13Jun14; LU2845.
SHANGHAIED. 1915. 2 reels.
© Essanay Film Mfg. Co.; 27Sep15; LP6495.
SHANGHAIED. 1927. 7 reels. From an original story "Limehouse
Polly" by Edward J. Montagne.
Credits: Director, Ralph Ince; adaptation, J. G. Hawks.
© R-C Pictures Corp.; 19Aug27; LP24311.
SHANGHAIED. (Walt Disney's Mickey Mouse) 1934. 1 reel.
© Walt Disney Productions, Ltd.; 3Jan34; MP4563.
THE SHANGHAIED BABY. 1915. 3,000 ft.
© Lubin Mfg. Co. (Robert A. Sanborn, author); 12Jan15;
LP4209.
SHANGHAIED LOVE. 1931. 7 reels, sd. From the story "Then Hell
Broke Loose" by Norman Springer.

Credits: Director, George B. Seitz; adaptation and dialogue, Roy
Chanslor, Jack Cunningham; film editor, Gene Milford.
© Columbia Pictures Corp.; 15Sep31; LP2485.
SHANGHAIED SHIPMATES. (Looney Tunes) 1936. 1 reel, sd.
Credits: Producer, Leon Schlesinger; supervision, Jack King;
animation, Paul Smith, Joe D'Igalo; music, Norman Spencer.
© The Vitaphone Corp.; 6Jul36; MP6610.
SHANGHIED LOVERS. © 1924.
© Pathe Exchange, Inc. (Mack Sennett, author); title, descr. &
40 prints, 18Apr24; LU20100.
SHANKS AND CHIVALRY. 1916. 1 reel.
Credits: Lawrence Semon, Graham Baker; director, Lawrence
Semon.
© The Vitagraph Co. of America; 12Dec16; LP9729.
SHANKS AND CHIVALRY. 1920. 1 reel.
Credits: Director, Lawrence Semon; story, Lawrence Semon,
Graham Baker.
© The Vitagraph Co. of America; 21Apr20; LP15040.
THE SHANNONS OF BROADWAY. 1929. 8 reels. From the play by
James Gleason.
Credits: Director, Emmett J. Flynn; adaptation, Agnes Christine
Johnston.
© Universal Pictures Corp.; 27Nov29; LP876.
SHANNONS OF BROADWAY. SEE Goodbye Broadway.
THE SHANTY AT TREMBLING HILL. 1914. 2 reels. Adapted from
the Munsey Magazines.
© Essanay Film Mfg. Co.; 15Dec14; LP3975.

THE SHANTY WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES. The Vitaphone Corp.
1933. 1 reel.
© Warner Brothers Pictures, Inc.; 6Feb33; LP3641.
SHAPES AND SCRAPES. (Star Comedy) 1920. 1 reel.
Credits: Director, Vin Moore; story, Maynard Laswell.
© Universal Film Mfg. Co., Inc.; 20Nov20; LP15821.
SHARE AND SHARE ALIKE. 1925. 6 reels.
Credits: Director, Whitman Bennett; story, Reginald Wright
Kaufman.
© Arrow Pictures Corp.; 11Dec25; LP22101.
SHARE THE WEALTH. 1936. 2 reels, sd.
Credits: Director, Del Lord; story and screenplay, Preston Black.
© Columbia Pictures Corp.; 25Mar36; LP6237.
THE SHARK. 1920. 5 reels.
Credits: Director, Del Henderson; story and scenario, Thomas F.
Fallon.
© William Fox (Fox Film Corp., author); 18Jan20; LP14657.
SHARK FISHING. 1931. 955 ft.
© Eastman Teaching Films, Inc. (George W. Hoke, author);
1Aug31; MP2836.
THE SHARK MASTER. 1921. 5 reels.
Credits: Story and production, Fred Leroy Granville; scenario,
George Hull.
© Universal Film Mfg. Co., Inc.; 18Aug21; LP16878.
SHARK MONROE. 1918. 5 reels.
Credits: Story, C. Gardner Sullivan; director, William S. Hart.
© William S. Hart Productions, Inc.; 22Jun18; LP12602.

SHARKS AND SWORDFISH. (A Fisherman's Paradise Picture) 1931.
1 reel, sd.
Credits: Pete Smith.
© Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Distributing Corp.; 12Oct31; MP2840.
SHARKS IS SHARKS. (Katzenjammer Kids) © 1917.
Credits: L. DeLorme, H. E. Hancock.
© International Film Service, Inc.; title, descr. & 14 prints,
26Apr17; LU10653.
SHARP SHOOTERS. © 1924.
© Pathe Exchange, Inc. (Paul Terry, author); title, descr. & 18
prints, 3Dec24; MU2785.
SHARP SHOOTERS. 1928. 6 reels.
Credits: Director, J. G. Blystone; story, Randall H. Faye; scenario,
Marion Orth.
© Fox Film Corp.; 6Jan28; LP24827.
SHARP TOOLS. SEE Ethel Grey Terry in Sharp Tools.
SHARPS AND FLATS. SEE
Conlin and Glass in Sharps and Flats.
Krazy Kat in Sharps and Flats.
SHARPSHOOTERS. 1938. 5,746 ft., sd.
Credits: Director, James Tinling; original story, Maurice Rapf,
Lester Ziffren; screenplay, Robert Ellis, Helen Logan; music
director, Samuel Kaylin.
© Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp.; 18Nov38; LP8746.
SHATTERED DREAMS. 1921. 5 reels. Adapted from the novel
"Wind Along the Waste" by Maude Annesley.
Credits: Producer, Paul Scardon; adaptation, J. Grubb Alexander.

© Universal Film Mfg. Co., Inc.; 22Dec21; LP17392.
SHATTERED IDEALS. Special Big U. 1916. 1 reel.
© Universal Film Mfg. Co., Inc.; 30Dec16; LP9865.
SHATTERED IDOLS. First National. 1921. 6 reels.
Credits: Director, Edward Sloman; story, I. A. R. Wylie; scenario,
William V. Mong.
** © J. L. Frothingham; 7Dec21; LP17488.
SHATTERED LIVES. Gotham. Presented by Samuel Sax. 1925. 6
reels.
Credits: Story, Victor Gibson; adaptation, direction and
continuity, Henry McCarty.
© Lumas Film Corp.; 5Jun25; LP21537.
SHATTERED MEMORIES. Gold Seal. 1915. 3 reels.
Credits: Producer, Robert Leonard; scenario, Grant Carpenter.
© Universal Film Co., Inc.; 19May15; LP5324.
SHATTERED NERVES. Rex. 1915.
Credits: Anthony P. Kelly; producer, Ben Wilson.
© Universal Film Mfg. Co., Inc.; 28Dec15; LP7306.
THE SHATTERED TREE. 1914. 2 reels.
Credits: Director, Ben Wilson.
© Thomas A. Edison, Inc.; 13Jun14; LP2853.
THE SHAUGHRAUN. SEE My Wild Irish Rose.
SHAVE IT WITH MUSIC. 1932. 2 reels, sd.
Credits: Director, Kenneth Webb; story, Raymond W. Peck; music
director, Charles A. Prince.
© Columbia Pictures Corp. & The Lambs (Columbia Pictures
Corp., author); 8Nov32; LP3409.

SHAVED AND TRIMMED. © 1915.
© Zenith Films, Inc. (Leslie T. Peacocke, author); title, descr. &
10 prints, 22Jul15; LU5883.
SHAVED IN MEXICO. L-Ko. 1915. 1 reel.
Credits: Director, J. G. Blystone.
© Universal Film Mfg. Co., Inc.; 22Apr15; LP5106.
SHAW AND LEE IN GOING PLACES. 1930. 1 reel.
© The Vitaphone Corp.; 9Jun30; MP1607.
SHAW AND LEE, THE BEAU BRUMMELLS. 1928. 1 reel.
© Vitaphone Corp.; 22Sep28; MP5375.
SHE. © 1916. From the book by Sir H. Rider Haggard.
Credits: Producer, Will Barker; scenario, Nellie E. Lucoque.
© Lucoque, Ltd. (Sir H. Rider Haggard, author); title & descr.,
27May16; 211 prints, 4Apr16; LU8370.
SHE. 1917. For Fox Film Corp. 5 reels. Based on the story by H.
Rider Haggard.
Credits: Director, Kenean Buel; adaptation, Mary Murillo.
© William Fox (Mary Murillo, author); 22Apr17; LP10610.
SHE. 1935. 11 reels, sd. From the novel by H. Rider Haggard.
Credits: Producer, Merian C. Cooper; directors, Irving Pichel,
Lansing C. Holden; adaptation, continuity, and dialogue, Ruth
Rose; additional dialogue, Dudley Nichols; editor, Ted Cheesman.
© RKO Radio Pictures, Inc.; 12Jul35; LP5696.
SHE ASKED FOR IT. Presented by Adolph Zukor. 1937. 7 reels, sd.
Credits: Producer, B. P. Schulberg; director, Erle C. Kenton;
screenplay, Frederick Jackson, Theodore Reeves, Howard Irving
Young; film editor, Robert Bischoff; music director, Boris Morros.

© Paramount Pictures, Inc.; 17Sep37; LP7434.
SHE CAUGHT ON QUICK. (Minute Movie, no. 6) © 1938. Sd., b&w.
color sequences, 35 mm.
© Singer Sewing Machine Co.; title & descr., 28Apr38; 16 prints,
29Apr38; MU8362.
SHE COULDN'T HELP IT. 1920. 5 reels. From the novel "In the
Bishop's Carriage" by Miriam Michelson and the play by Channing
Pollock.
Credits: Scenario, Douglas Bronston.
© Realart Pictures Corp.; 14Dec20; LP15928.
SHE COULDN'T SAY NO. Trailer. 1929. 1 reel, sd.
© The Vitaphone Corp.; 25Nov29; MP894.
SHE COULDN'T SAY NO. 1930. 7 reels.
Credits: Benj. M. Kaye; director, Lloyd Bacon; screenplay and
dialogue, Robert Lord, Arthur Caesar.
© Warner Bros. Pictures, Inc.; 20Jan30; LP1015.
SHE COULDN'T TAKE IT. 1935. 8 reels, sd.
Credits: Director, Tay Garnett; story, Gene Towne, Graham Baker;
screenplay, Oliver H. P. Garrett; film editor, Gene Havlick.
© Columbia Pictures Corp.; 9Oct35; LP5865.
THE SHE-DEVIL. 1918. 6 reels.
Credits: Director, J. Gordon Edwards; story, Neje Hopkins.
© William Fox (Fox Film Corp., author); 1Dec18; LP13088.
SHE DID HER BIT. 1918. 2 reels.
Credits: Director, J. G. Blystone.
© Century Comedies; 16Jan18; LP11973.

SHE DONE HIM RIGHT. Snappy. (Pooch the Pup Cartoon) 1933. 1
reel.
Credits: Direction and animation, Walter Lantz, William Nolan.
© Universal Pictures Corp.; 9Oct33; MP4332.
SHE DONE HIM WRONG. 1933. 7 reels, sd.
Credits: Director, Lowell Sherman; story, Mae West; screenplay,
Harvey Thew, John Bright; music, Ralph Rainger.
© Paramount Productions, Inc.; 27Jan33; LP3611.
SHE GETS HER MAN. Presented by Carl Laemmle. 1935. 7 reels,
sd.
Credits: Associate producer, David Diamond; director, William
Nigh; story, Aben Kandel, David Diamond; screenplay, Aben
Kandel; film editor, Bernard W. Burton.
© Universal Pictures Corp.; 20Aug35; LP5724.
SHE GOES TO WAR. 1929. 10 reels. Sd. From the novel by Rupert
Hughes.
Credits: Produced and directed by Henry King; scenario, Howard
Estabrook; adaptation, Fred de Gresac.
© Inspiration Pictures, Inc. (Rupert Hughes, author); 10Jun29;
LP452.
A SHE-GOING SAILOR. (Paramount-Christie Comedy) 1928. 2
reels.
Credits: Director, William Watson; story, Frank Conklin; titles, Al
Martin.
© Paramount Famous Lasky Corp.; 9Nov28; LP25813.
SHE GOT WHAT SHE WANTED. Released by Tiffany. 1930. 9 reels.
From the stage success by George Rosener.
Credits: Producers, James Cruze, Samuel Zierler; director, James
Cruze; continuity and dialogue, George Rosener.

Welcome to our website – the perfect destination for book lovers and
knowledge seekers. We believe that every book holds a new world,
offering opportunities for learning, discovery, and personal growth.
That’s why we are dedicated to bringing you a diverse collection of
books, ranging from classic literature and specialized publications to
self-development guides and children's books.
More than just a book-buying platform, we strive to be a bridge
connecting you with timeless cultural and intellectual values. With an
elegant, user-friendly interface and a smart search system, you can
quickly find the books that best suit your interests. Additionally,
our special promotions and home delivery services help you save time
and fully enjoy the joy of reading.
Join us on a journey of knowledge exploration, passion nurturing, and
personal growth every day!
ebookbell.com

Revolutionary Aristotelianism Ethics Resistance And Utopia Kelvin Knight Editor Paul Blackledge Editor

About This Presentation

Slide Content

Tags

Categories

Download

Quick Actions

Statistics

Related Slideshows

Revolutionary Aristotelianism Ethics Resistance And Utopia Kelvin Knight Editor Paul Blackledge Editor

About This Presentation

Slide Content

Slide 1

Slide 2

Slide 3

Slide 5

Slide 6

Slide 7

Slide 8

Slide 9

Slide 10

Slide 11

Slide 13

Slide 14

Slide 15

Slide 16

Slide 17

Slide 18

Slide 19

Slide 20

Slide 21

Slide 22

Slide 23

Slide 24

Slide 25

Slide 26

Slide 27

Slide 28

Slide 29

Slide 30

Slide 31

Slide 32

Slide 33

Slide 34

Slide 35

Slide 36

Slide 37

Slide 38

Slide 39

Slide 41

Slide 42

Slide 43

Slide 44

Slide 45

Slide 46

Slide 47

Slide 48

Slide 49

Slide 50

Slide 51

Slide 52

Slide 53

Slide 54

Slide 55

Slide 56

Slide 57

Slide 58

Slide 59

Slide 60

Slide 61

Slide 62

Slide 63

Slide 64

Slide 65

Slide 66

Slide 67

Slide 68

Slide 69

Slide 70

Slide 71

Slide 72

Slide 73

Slide 74

Slide 75

Slide 76

Slide 77

Slide 78

Tags

Categories