I. Introduction
Contemporary political discourse is suffused with the language of democracy, and Western countries in particular seek to promote democracy at home and abroad, yet there is a sublimated conflict in political discourse between a desire to rely on alleged political experts and a desire to assert the supposed common sense of all men.1
Despite its shortcomings, Richard Hofstadter's Anti-Intellectualism in American Life (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1963) provides a vast amount of insightful documentation of this (sometimes sublimated, sometimes explicit) conflict in American political and public discourse. Hofstadter also points out cases where some public intellectuals themselves seem to be torn internally between aristocratic and democratic values.
The question is perennial and raises issues that are central to constitutional design. It is a question that preoccupied many ancient Greek poets, historians, and philosophers. Aristotle (384–322 b.c.), developing insights made by Plato,2
See Plato's Statesman (esp. 291d–292a, 300c–303b) and Laws (esp. 693d–701e, 756e, 832c), in Plato: Complete Works, ed. John Cooper (Indianapolis, IN: Hackett Publishing Company, 1997), for Plato's sixfold classification of constitutions and his recommended mixture of the two “mother constitutions” of monarchy and democracy.
Aristotle, Politics, trans. C. D. C. Reeve (Indianapolis, IN: Hackett Publishing Company, 1998). All citations of Aristotle's Politics will be given parenthetically in the text.
One might wonder how Aristotle's views on these matters are relevant to contemporary American politics (and modern democracies generally). During the eighteenth century, the American founders, some of whom explicitly reached back to Aristotle's work, also struggled—especially in The Federalist Papers4
Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay, The Federalist Papers, ed. Clinton Rossiter (New York: New American Library, 1961).
In Section II of this essay, I briefly provide the historical and theoretical background of Aristotle's contribution to the debate over how to handle conflicting political values, outlining how he classifies constitutions as well as what his ideal constitutional arrangement is. In Section III, I explore Aristotle's discussions about “cleverly crafted” constitutions and the purposes and difficulties of designing a mixed constitution. In Section IV, I examine how the American founders adapted Aristotle's ideas about constitutional design to their circumstances. I offer some concluding remarks in Section V about what we can learn from this examination in our efforts to integrate properly the values involved in aristocracy and democracy.
II. Constitutional Arrangements and the Best Constitution
A. A brief sketch of the historical context
Aristotle's virtue ethics underlies his argument for his conception of the best possible political arrangement—namely, aristocracy (rule by the virtuous few)—but his broader concerns about attaining at least some amount of political justice lead him eventually to argue on behalf of a “mixed” constitution that combines rule by both the virtuous few and the many.5
I here refer to “the many” rather than to democracy. We shall see below in Section II.B that, due to how Aristotle classifies constitutions, there are two different manifestations of “the many”—democracy and polity—which our contemporary term “democracy” is not nuanced enough to capture.
The century prior to Aristotle's lifetime was a politically volatile one in ancient Athens and generally throughout the many Greek polises (city-states). In Athens itself, class tensions existed between the rich and the poor, between those who lived in the city and those who lived in the country, and between the aristocrats and noblemen and the artisans and laborers. These tensions manifested themselves politically in a back-and-forth struggle between rule by oligarchy and rule by democracy, marked by relatively brief periods of uneasy stability. Even during times when democracy held sway, there were a series of expansions and contractions of the number and type of people to whom democratic inclusion was to be extended. These difficulties were exacerbated during the costly twenty-seven-year Peloponnesian War (431–404 b.c.), into which the democracy-promoting Pericles led Athens.6
The costs and political struggles of this war are largely chronicled by Thucydides in The Peloponnesian War, trans. Steven Lattimore (Indianapolis, IN: Hackett Publishing Company, 1998).
See Peter Reisenberg, Citizenship in the Western Tradition: Plato to Rousseau (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1992), 12–27; and A. H. M. Jones, Athenian Democracy (Baltimore, MD: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1957), esp. chap. 4.
The presence of the Sophists in Athens during this time, though, helped the wealthy and well-born to capitalize on the structure of the democratic political system that they disliked. The Sophists had flocked to Athens because of its increasing prosperity and because of Pericles' hospitality and intellectualism. They were itinerant paid educators who instructed the children of the politically ambitious oligarchs and aristocrats in the skills of rhetoric and debate. These skills were often put to use in the political arena so that the few could move the many—whose preferences had to be pandered to—with the power of words. Such persuasion was sometimes put to the service of the common good, but frequently it was used for demagoguery.8
See G. B. Kerferd, The Sophistic Movement (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981), 17–23; and W. T. Jones, The Classical Mind, 2d ed. (Fort Worth, TX: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich College Publishers, 1970), 63–65.
B. The aim of politics and the classification of constitutions
Since all societies aim at some good and the polis is the most encompassing form of society, Aristotle argues, the polis aims at the highest good of all: eudaimonia (flourishing, happiness) (see Pol. I.1.1252a1–7).9
See also Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, trans. Terence Irwin, 2d ed. (Indianapolis, IN: Hackett Publishing Company, 1999), I.1–2. All citations of Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics will be given parenthetically in the text.
The form of the polis is determined by its constitution, which “is itself a certain organization of the inhabitants of a city-state” (Pol. III.1.1274b37–38). A polis can be organized in many ways, but on Aristotle's view each of these ways is either one of six basic constitutional forms or a permutation (“mix”) based on this sixfold classification. Aristotle divides his classification of constitutions in two ways—by numerical categories and by general aim in relation to the proper purpose of the polis:
[W]henever the one [kingship], the few [aristocracy], or the many [polity] rule for the common benefit, these constitutions must be correct. But if they aim at the private benefit, whether of the one [tyranny] or the few [oligarchy] or the multitude [democracy], they are deviations (for either the participants should not be called citizens, or they should share in the benefits). (Pol. III.7.1279a28–32)
The three correct constitutions are those that promote the benefit of both the rulers and the ruled, while the three deviant ones promote the benefit of only the rulers. Aristotle ranks the six constitutions in order from best to worst: kingship, aristocracy, polity, democracy, oligarchy, tyranny (Pol. IV.2.1289a26–b4).
The three forms of correct constitution share not only the view that laws should be passed and judgments made that benefit all, but also the view that justice is a sort of equality. For Aristotle, justice as equality is a very formal concept whereby equals are treated equally and unequals are treated unequally (Pol. III.9.1280a9–13). Matters become controversial when it comes to specifying the standard of justice, since it will determine who counts as equals. It matters a great deal who counts as an equal with respect to a constitution. A constitutional arrangement distributes the good of citizenship, and thus the rights and responsibilities involved in political authority. The debate, then, is over who merits citizenship.10
I here follow David Keyt's careful and illuminating discussion of the general role played by distributive justice; see David Keyt, “Aristotle's Theory of Distributive Justice,” in A Companion to Aristotle's Politics, ed. David Keyt and Fred D. Miller, Jr. (Cambridge, MA: Blackwell, 1991), 238–78, esp. 240–43.
C. The best constitution
Aristotle has a preferred view about which constitution is the best possible: aristocracy. Before explaining why he thinks this is so, I should note that he considers whether kingship would be the very best form of constitution. (After all, as I have noted, he ranks kingship as the best constitution.) Wouldn't it be fitting to allow the one who is of superlative virtue to rule? Perhaps. For “if one man were better than the others in the governing class, even though they were excellent men, then, on the basis of the same justice, this man should be in authority” (Pol. III.13.1283b20–23). Aristotle goes so far as to say: “The remaining possibility—and it seems to be the natural one—is for everyone to obey such a person gladly, so that those like him will be permanent kings in their city-states” (Pol. III.13.1284b31–33).
However, kingship is beset with problems, not the least of which is the fact that the individual who is fit to be a king is rarely (if ever) found: “For anyone of that sort would reasonably be regarded as a god among human beings” (Pol. III.13.1284a10–11). The nature of man being what it is—that is, less than divine, with even the best of men being limited in their knowledge and prone to having their reason on occasion dragged about by the passions—it is highly implausible to think that a kingship is going to exist (Pol. III.13–18). Kingship is thus ruled out as a contender for the most ideal form of constitution possible. But out of the remaining correct forms of constitution, why does aristocracy win out over polity?
Throughout his discussion of eudaimonia in the Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle sprinkles references to the proper scope and aim of politics and the appropriate role of the lawgiver. Eudaimonia—the human good—is activity in accord with virtue of the part of the soul involving reason (EN I.7, esp. 1098a14–18). Since “the goal of political science [is] the best good [i.e., eudaimonia],” “most of its attention is devoted to the character of the citizens, to make them good people who do fine actions”; the lawgiver will accomplish this primarily by means of habituation (EN I.9.1099b30–32, for the quotation; see also EN II.1.1103b4–7). Clearly, those who rule are to keep the goal of cultivating virtue for the sake of eudaimonia in mind, but why does this mean that virtue is the standard of justice that determines who is to be allowed to participate in ruling? In order to answer this question, we need to look at both Aristotle's definition of a citizen and what he says about the sorts of people who comprise the multitude.
It can be argued that Aristotle's ultimate definition of a citizen is “someone who is eligible to participate in deliberative and judicial office” (Pol. III.1.1275b18).11
I defend this claim in Carrie-Ann Biondi Khan, “Aristotle, Citizenship, and the Common Advantage,” Polis 22, no. 1 (2005): 1–23; some of the material in this paragraph is adapted from pp. 2–6, esp. p. 6.
The importance of this function of the definition will become clear below in Section III.A with the discussion of “cleverly crafted” constitutions.
We now need to examine a key precondition of what a citizen does when he participates in politics—that is, deliberate and judge—in order to understand why Aristotle thinks that aristocracy is the best possible constitution. Aristotle excludes what he terms the vulgar or base class of craftsmen and workingmen, who comprise the multitude, from being eligible for citizenship under the best possible constitution. It is not possible for vulgar persons to be citizens in the aristocratic constitution “in which offices are awarded on the basis of virtue and merit. For it is impossible to engage in virtuous pursuits while living the life of a vulgar craftsman or a hired laborer” (Pol. III.5.1278a19–21). Aristotle explains:
Since we are investigating the best constitution, however, the one that would make a city-state most happy—and happiness cannot exist apart from virtue, as was said earlier—it evidently follows that in a city-state governed in the finest manner, possessing men who are unqualifiedly just … the citizens should not live the life of a vulgar craftsman or tradesman. For lives of these sorts are ignoble and inimical to virtue … since leisure is needed both to develop virtue and to engage in political actions. (Pol. VII.9.1328b34–1329a2)
The problem here is that those who comprise the multitude do not have the leisure necessary for cultivating virtue, which is crucial for being a good citizen—particularly in the active mode of ruling rather than the passive mode of being ruled. It is difficult to learn how to deliberate well and to participate in politics when one spends most of one's time earning a living.
The point concerning the leisure needed for proper ruling in relation to deliberating and judging well needs to be spelled out more fully. It is helpful here to consider what Fred Miller refers to as Aristotle's “principle of rulership,” which holds that “order must be imposed on the [political] community by individuals possessing authority.”13
Fred D. Miller, Jr., Nature, Justice, and Rights in Aristotle's Politics (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1995), 232.
by nature contains a part that rules and a part that is ruled, and we say that each of them has a different virtue, that is to say, one [virtue] belongs to the part that has reason and one to the nonrational part. It is clear, then, that the same holds in the other cases as well, so that most instances of ruling and ruled are natural. For free rules slaves, male rules female, and man rules child in different ways, because, while the parts of the soul are present in all these people, they are present in different ways…. [A] ruler must have virtue of character complete, since his task is that of a master craftsman, and reason is a master craftsman. (Pol. I.13.1260a4–18)
Rulership rightly understood requires complete virtue and reason, so it is only left for us to draw out the connection more fully between leisure and the cultivation and exercise of virtue and reason. Terence Irwin, commenting on the Nicomachean Ethics, states that “[t]he correct use of leisure is the mark of the civilized … as opposed to the slavish person…. Someone is at leisure when he is free of necessity in some significant area of his life.”14
Terence Irwin, “Glossary,” in Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, 337.
III. Mixed Constitutions
Given that Aristotle defends aristocracy as being the best possible constitution, why does he defend a mixed constitution in Books IV–VI of the Politics? The response to this question is complex, and Aristotle himself seems to be of two minds on the matter. On the one hand, he argues that a mixed constitution is defensible on a few practical grounds, especially on grounds of stability. On the other hand, he indicates that there are virtues possessed by the mixed elements of some constitutions that cannot be achieved in pure aristocracies.15
This latter point is an important qualification of his defense of the aristocratic constitution, and it indicates a tension between aristocracy and democracy within his political theory that still exists in contemporary political discourse. I explore this qualification in Section III.E below.
A. Polity and clever crafting
Aristotle examines some of the many variations of mixed constitutions, focusing a great deal of attention on combinations of oligarchy and democracy. He actually defines polity (which he sometimes calls “so-called polity”)—the third of the correct constitutions—as a good mixture of oligarchic and democratic elements (e.g., Pol. IV.8.1293b33–34).16
It must be noted that Aristotle also discusses polity as rule by the many with some level of military virtue (Pol. III.7.1279a37–b4) and as rule by those “in the middle” between the rich and the poor (Pol. IV.11). These several discussions of polity are not incompatible; a close examination would bear out the view that these discussions reflect a relatively stable mixture of the different economic and social classes. See Miller, Nature, Justice, and Rights in Aristotle's Politics, 256–75; and Richard Kraut, Aristotle: Political Philosophy (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), 374–76, 438–44. Since the American founders focused on developing Aristotle's idea of polity as a mixed constitution that blends oligarchic/aristocratic and democratic elements (see Section IV below), I shall here emphasize only this dimension of polity.
In describing polities of this mixed sort, Aristotle indicates that polities that integrate more oligarchic and fewer democratic elements tend more toward aristocracy. Why not, then, try to incorporate as many of these oligarchic elements as can be gotten away with? There are some ways of “cleverly crafting” constitutions that could attain this outcome, Aristotle notes; so perhaps such devices or artifices should be used. For example:
As regards the courts: fining the rich for not serving on juries, but not the poor, or else imposing a large fine on the former and a small one on the latter…. In some places, everyone who has enrolled may attend the assembly and serve on juries, but once they have enrolled, if they do not attend or serve, they are heavily fined. The aim is to get people [i.e., the many] to avoid enrolling because of the fine, and not to serve or to attend because of not being enrolled. (Pol. IV.13.1297a21–27)
Under this sort of “cleverly crafted” constitution, the many think that they are getting something of value, namely, citizen status (which recalls the power of how Aristotle defines citizenship in such a way as to cut across all types of constitution). They are made to feel that they are not being legally excluded from politics. In addition, and most importantly, the wealthy citizens who have greater ability to rule—for while less than fully virtuous, they are more virtuous than the many—are more likely than are the many to be in positions of political authority.
This method of clever crafting seems to be a way of getting closer to aristocracy, so why not employ it? Aristotle states in no uncertain terms that “many of those who wish to establish aristocratic constitutions make the mistake not only of granting more to the rich, but also of deceiving the people. For sooner or later, false goods inevitably give rise to a true evil” (Pol. IV.12.1297a6–10). Immediately following this statement, Aristotle gives several examples of clever crafting, so we are to take it that these examples are instances of the few deceiving the many for the (mistaken) sake of moving toward an aristocracy. The “false goods” that might initially lull the many into going along with such an arrangement will “give rise,” it is hinted, “to a true evil” once the many realize that their status is, in effect, only a paper status. Since the many would not have the leisure to attend the assembly regularly and to serve on juries, and since they could ill afford the fines for nonattendance, they are in effect excluded from politics—a realization that would anger them and cause conflict.
We can now return to the question with which this section began: Why does Aristotle defend a mixed constitution rather than a full-blown aristocracy? The polis exists “not … only for the sake of life, but rather for the sake of living well” (Pol. III.9.1280a30–31). Anything less, sullied as it would be with elements of the deviant constitutions of oligarchy and democracy, seems to be an insult to justice and the good life. Aristotle eventually answers this question with a response comprised of a few different reasons. In general, all of the reasons are broadly related to preserving (or possibly even reforming) constitutions as much as possible and avoiding factions of the sort that would lead to revolution. Aristotle makes the following point in several places throughout the Politics, but captures it best here:
For achieving the best constitution is perhaps impossible for many; and so neither the unqualifiedly best constitution nor the one that is best in the circumstances should be neglected by the good legislator and true statesman…. For one should not study only what is best, but also what is possible, and similarly what is easier and more attainable by all…. But what should be done is to introduce the sort of organization that people will be easily persuaded to accept and be able to participate in, given what they already have, as it is no less a task to reform a constitution than to establish one initially. (Pol. IV.1.1288b24–1289a3)
The population of any polis might be such that it is not only not virtuous, but largely incapable (at least for some time) of becoming virtuous in significant ways. The best that a legislator might be able to do is slowly to reform a constitution—with a population's acquiescence, if not its explicit consent—so that it is better than it otherwise would be. At the very least, a legislator should preserve a constitution so long as it is not utterly tyrannical. Miller explains that this approach to constitutional design employs the “principle of proximity,” which holds “that it is best to attain perfection, but, failing that, a thing is better in proportion as it is nearer to the end.”17
Miller, Nature, Justice, and Rights in Aristotle's Politics, 156.
B. Political society versus anarchy
The first and most necessary reason that Aristotle provides for why even some deviant constitutions should be preserved has to do with the fact that he thought of anarchy as a bad and unnatural condition, one to be avoided at almost any cost. “[A] human being is by nature a political animal” (Pol. I.2.1253a2–3),18
See also Pol. III.6.1278b19, and EN I.7.1097b11–12.
C. Habituation and obedience to law
The second reason that Aristotle cites for the need to preserve even some deviant constitutions has to do with his twofold understanding of habituation. On the one hand, there is habituation understood as a sort of moral education, where the appetites are properly controlled by reason. When the political dimension is (necessarily, for Aristotle) layered onto this form of habituation, it is always in relation not only to the constitution, but also to a particular form of constitution. Aristotle first discusses how “both women and children [as parts of households, which are in turn parts of the polis] must be educated with an eye to the constitution, if indeed it makes any difference to the virtue of a city-state that its children be virtuous, and its women too” (Pol. I.13.1260b15–17). Women need to perform properly (i.e., virtuously) their role in the household for their own sake as well as for the sake of their children, of whom at least the males will later become political participants. Aristotle later shifts from speaking about virtue in the polis unqualifiedly to the virtue of citizens living under certain types of constitutions: “[T]he virtue of a citizen must be suited to his constitution…. [I]f indeed there are several kinds of constitution, it is clear that there cannot be a single virtue—the complete virtue—of a good citizen…. [I]t is possible for someone to be a good citizen without having acquired the virtue expressed by a good man” (Pol. III.4.1276b29–35). Even a suboptimal form of constitution is going to be able to impart some minimal virtues to its citizens, and so this important educative function should not be disrupted.
On the other hand, there is habituation understood as being in the habit of obeying the law, even if the law is less than perfectly just. Aristotle grapples with the question of whether it is wise to change laws that we come to realize are somewhat unjust or overly simplistic. It might seem at first from the perspective of justice that we should work as hard as possible to make laws the finest that they can be. After all, in fields such as medicine and weaponry we adapt to the latest improvements in our effort to heal and to defend ourselves, respectively, as best we can. Aristotle points out, however, that the comparison between law and crafts is a faulty analogy. Changing medical or military practice is not like changing laws, since the effects of change on these various practices are very different: “For the law has no power to secure obedience except habit; but habits can only be developed over a long period of time. Hence casual change from existing laws to new and different ones weakens the power of law itself” (Pol. II.8.1269a19–22; see Pol. II.8 generally). Aristotle's view on the habit of obeying the law provides a reason for preserving rather than reforming at least some deviant constitutions.
In a given context, maintaining obedience to somewhat unjust laws and/or somewhat deviant constitutional arrangements might be most conducive to attaining the greatest possible justice. Preservation of these constitutions would be best. In order to see why, let us look more closely at the phenomenon of habituation and obeying the law. It often takes a good deal of public discussion to persuade people that a policy is just, and then it takes additional time to publicize and explain the policy, and still more time for the habit of acting in accordance with the policy to take hold. Changing laws too quickly or frequently (in an effort to keep up with enlightened views) before the general tenor of thought catches up can easily erode people's law-abidingness. This erosion can be caused by people not knowing what to expect, not being willing to obey the law in the face of general skepticism or noncompliance, not being fully persuaded yet that the changes are good, etc. Such an outcome should be avoided, since the anarchy that results when men become unmoored from the law in no way leads us along the path to justice.
D. Justice and stability
Aristotle's third reason is in some ways an extension of the first two, but it is more explicit about the aim of attaining some sort of justice rather than merely avoiding anarchy. No constitution can attain justice for its citizens if the constitution is structured in such a way as to be unable to keep a polis in existence. Aristotle spends a great deal of time examining the sources of faction that can lead to instability and revolution (see Pol. IV–V). Though there are a number of such sources, one of the most significant is the resentment generated by the different standards of justice upheld by the rich and poor classes in a polis. David Resnick notes that, on this count, “Aristotle confronts the issue of class conflict directly and attempts to work out a political theory that recognizes its inevitable presence,” and the result is “a theory of political compromise.”19
David Resnick, “Justice, Compromise, and Constitutional Rules in Aristotle's Politics,” in J. Roland Pennock and John W. Chapman, eds., Compromise in Ethics, Law, and Politics: NOMOS XXI (New York: New York University Press, 1979), 69–86; see 70–71 for the quotation. Resnick has some important insights, but the language of compromise here can be misleading. Aristotle's theory of mixed constitutions may embody a precarious mix of political values, but his political theorizing is not crudely pragmatic. Rather, it is guided contextually by the attainment of the greatest approximation of justice possible.
So far, we see that Aristotle acknowledges that faction and class interests exist and that in order to promote stability a legislator would need to engage in a trade-off between ideal justice and stability. However, Aristotle goes beyond recognizing this fact and endorses the claim that a legislator should make such trade-offs:
For a legislator, however, or for those seeking to establish a constitution of this kind [i.e., democracy], setting it up is not the most important task nor indeed the only one, but rather ensuring its preservation…. That is why legislators should make use of our earlier studies of what causes the preservation and destruction of constitutions, and from them try to institute stability…. They should consider a measure to be democratic or oligarchic not if it will make the city-state be as democratically governed or as oligarchically governed as possible, but if it will make it be so for the longest time. (Pol. VI.5.1319b33–1320a3)
The stability of a constitution is purchased at the expense of ideal justice in order to get an approximation of justice—that is, to attain the greatest possible justice in real-world circumstances.
E. Competing political values
The fourth reason that Aristotle gives for why we should strive to preserve even some deviant constitutions has to do with a certain virtue of the multitude. He concedes at one point that there is some truth to the claim that it is better—and not just in a pragmatic sense—for the many to rule rather than just the few best individuals. The analogy he employs for this argument is that of a feast:
For the many, who are not as individuals excellent men, nevertheless can, when they have come together, be better than the few best people, not individually but collectively, just as feasts to which many contribute are better than feasts provided at one person's expense…. Whether this superiority of the many to the few excellent people can exist in the case of every people and every multitude is not clear…. But nothing prevents what has been said from being true of some multitude. (Pol. III.11.1281a39–b21)
How exactly is this feast analogy supposed to work? There are two salient parallels that Aristotle draws out.
First, in what has been called the “summation argument” (Pol. III.11.1281a39–b39),20
This label has rightly been rejected by Keyt, “Aristotle's Theory of Distributive Justice,” who calls it a “misnomer” (271), and by Jeremy Waldron, “The Wisdom of the Multitude,” Political Theory 23, no. 4 (November 1995): 563–84, who renames it the “doctrine of the wisdom of the multitude” (564).
Keyt, “Aristotle's Theory of Distributive Justice,” 271.
Second, the multitude is perhaps in some ways better than the few at judging the products of deliberation and adjudication, since the members of the multitude are by and large the ones who experience these products in their lives. As “diners” of sorts, the multitude can judge the “feast,” since they are the consumers who partake of it (see Pol. III.11 generally, and especially the “shoe-pinching argument” at 1282a13–23). In these ways, then, certain types of multitudes manifest virtues that reveal the existence of competing political values, albeit balanced in some way in pursuing an approximation of justice. Some sort of mixed constitution—a variant on polity, which itself is a mix of oligarchy and democracy—is going to integrate political values found in aristocracy and democracy (in the modern sense).
IV. The Mixed Constitution and the American Founders: Walking a Fine Line between Aristocracy and Democracy
Clinton Rossiter makes a remark that is reminiscent of Aristotle on constitutional design when he says of the authors of The Federalist Papers that their message is: “[N]o happiness without liberty, no liberty without self-government, no self-government without constitutionalism, no constitutionalism without morality—and none of these great goods without stability and order.”22
Clinton Rossiter, “Introduction,” in Hamilton, Madison, and Jay, The Federalist Papers, xvi.
Some of the founders explicitly drew on Aristotle's work while devising a mixed constitution as embodied in the U.S. Constitution. As Richard Gummere remarks, “No eighteenth-century statesman could escape the fine Hellenic hand of Aristotle.”23
Richard M. Gummere, “The Classical Ancestry of the Constitution,” in Richard M. Gummere, The American Colonial Mind and the Classical Tradition: Essays in Comparative Culture (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1963), 175.
See Gummere, The American Colonial Mind and the Classical Tradition, esp. chaps. 1–4 and 10–11; and Carl J. Richard, The Founders and the Classics: Greece, Rome, and the American Enlightenment (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1994), chap. 1.
In the period after the Revolutionary War, plummeting esteem abroad and rising tensions within and between the confederate American states at home led the participants of the 1787 Constitutional Convention to gather in Philadelphia. The convention delegates alluded to and directly invoked classical thinkers frequently. Moreover, the founders did not draw on their classical training in a superficial or merely rhetorical way. They had carefully studied ancient and modern history and political theory, and they assessed their contemporary circumstances through the lessons learned by preceding generations. The records of the convention's debates and speeches and the eighty-five essays that comprise The Federalist Papers reveal both Aristotle's direct influence on the founders and a systematic grappling with and transmutation of key Aristotelian political concerns, including stability, limited democracy, natural aristocracy, and mixed government.
Aristotle's “presence” at the Constitutional Convention was due most notably to John Adams and Alexander Hamilton, both of whom were strong advocates of aristocracy. Though Adams was unable to attend the convention, since he was serving as a diplomat in England, he sent the first volume of what was to be his three-volume Defense of the Constitutions of the United States of America to circulate at the convention.25
Clinton Rossiter, 1787: The Grand Convention (New York: W. W. Norton and Company, 1966), 83.
Richard, The Founders and the Classics, 132–39, esp. 133.
Here I shall give my sentiments of the best form of government—not as a thing attainable by us, but as a model which we ought to approach as near as possible. British constitution best form. Aristotle—Cicero—Montesquieu—Neckar [sic]. Society naturally divides itself into two political divisions—the few and the many, who have distinct interests. If a government [is] in the hands of the few, they will tyrannize over the many. If [it is in] the hands of the many, they will tyrannize over the few. It ought to be in the hands of both; and they should be separated.27
Cited in Richard, The Founders and the Classics, 141. See also Paul Eidelberg, The Philosophy of the American Constitution (New York: The Free Press, 1968), 110–16, esp. 110 and 114. “Neckar” refers to Jacques Necker, whose dismissal in 1789 by King Louis XVI from the position of finance minister of France sparked the storming of the Bastille. Necker's three-volume De l'Administration des finances de la France (1784) greatly influenced Hamilton.
Clearly, Aristotle's Politics—and ancient political thought generally—was on the founders' minds.
One of the underlying concerns that the founders shared with Aristotle was the fundamental need for stability: “Stability in government is essential to national character and to the advantages annexed to it.”28
Hamilton, Madison, and Jay, The Federalist Papers, No. 37: 226.
The authors of The Federalist Papers made many comparisons between the American confederation and ancient confederations, but one of the most explicit occurs in Federalist No. 4:
Leave America divided into thirteen or, if you please, into three or four independent governments—what armies could they raise and pay—what fleets could they ever hope to have? If one was attacked, would the others fly to its succor and spend their blood and money in its defense? Would there be no danger of their being flattered into neutrality by specious promises, or seduced by too great fondness for peace to decline hazarding their tranquility and present safety for the sake of neighbors…. Although such conduct would not be wise, it would, nevertheless, be natural. The history of the states of Greece … abounds with such instances, and it is not improbable that what has so often happened would, under similar circumstances, happen again.29
Ibid., No. 4: 48–49.
Another important and more ominous comparison is made in Federalist No. 9:
It is impossible to read the history of the petty republics of Greece and Italy without feeling sensations of horror and disgust at the distractions with which they were continually agitated, and at the rapid succession of revolutions by which they were kept in a state of perpetual vibration between the extremes of tyranny and anarchy.30
Ibid., No. 9: 71.
The American founders, like Aristotle, were sensitive to the fact that some constitutional forms lend themselves to the creation of factions that can lead to revolution and anarchy. Constitutional restructuring was thus essential for promoting stability, which itself is necessary for obtaining any of the goods of political association. The authors of The Federalist Papers strove to persuade extreme aristocrats and extreme democrats, extreme states' rights advocates and extreme nationalists, of the pressing need to devise a workable constitution that would ultimately serve the interests of all. The founders had to work out their own internal conflicts over these matters in order to develop the American version of Aristotle's mixed and stable constitution.
In some ways, some of the founders were even more wary than Aristotle of democracy, particularly direct democracy (which the founders sometimes referred to as “pure” democracy). James Madison's famous complaint about direct democracy is best captured when he claims that this form of government
can admit of no cure for the mischiefs of faction…. [S]uch democracies have ever been spectacles of turbulence and contention; have ever been found incompatible with personal security or the rights of property; and have in general been as short in their lives as they have been violent in their deaths.31
Ibid., No. 10: 81.
We see why the founders were so disparaging of the multitude, when John Adams explicitly discusses (in the first volume of his Defense of the Constitutions of the United States of America) his thoughts on the character of democratic bodies. He thinks that the people tend to fall for and endorse “artifices and tricks … hypocrisy and superstition … flattery, bribes, [and] largesses.”32
Cited in Richard, The Founders and the Classics, 135.
Ibid.
Ibid., 218.
We can also see some of the founders' views about democracy35
Thomas Jefferson is the most notable optimist about democracy. He envisioned a country of farmers generally enlightened through the establishment of public education, and his view came to be somewhat at odds with the view of the authors of The Federalist Papers. Despite this, Jefferson supported a mixed constitution. See Richard, The Founders and the Classics, esp. chap. 5.
[S]uch an institution [i.e., the Senate] may be sometimes necessary as a defense to the people against their own temporary errors and delusions…. What bitter anguish would not the people of Athens have often escaped if their government had contained so provident a safeguard against the tyranny of their own passions? Popular liberty might then have escaped the indelible reproach of decreeing to the same citizens the hemlock on one day and statues on the next.36
Hamilton, Madison, and Jay, The Federalist Papers, No. 63: 384.
Representative democracy was to take on an especially guarded form in the newly designed American republic. Not only were the members of the House of Representatives to be elected by the people, so that federal political deliberations and voting were to be undertaken by representatives, but the decisions reached by this body were also to be checked by a second, smaller legislative component, the Senate. This model already existed in some of the state constitutions, but it was hotly debated at that level, and there was even fiercer debate at the prospect of such a small group of individuals wielding power at the federal level of government. Fears of oligarchy—and even a slide toward monarchy—were expressed by those dubious of the proposed federal constitution. The founders thus strove to combat these fears by explaining how democratic values could be embodied in the federal constitution and how the Senate was not a way-station on the road to oligarchy.
Despite their wariness of democracy, some of the founders did speak warmly of the (constitutionally constrained) virtues of the American people. For example, Madison referred to the “present genius of the people of America” as the reason why he trusted that “the people of America, in their present temper” would not vote (at least not repeatedly) for representatives “who would be disposed to form and pursue a scheme of tyranny or treachery.”37
Ibid., No. 55: 344.
Ibid., No. 35: 214.
It is in examining the founders' views on aristocracy—natural aristocracy, to be more precise—that we understand why Aristotle's Politics resonated so strongly for them. According to Madison, the individuals who were to be elected to political office were to “possess most wisdom to discern, and most virtue to pursue, the common good of society.”39
Ibid., No. 57: 350.
For I agree with you that there is a natural aristocracy among men. The grounds of this are virtue and talents…. The natural aristocracy I consider as the most precious gift of nature for the instruction, the trusts, and the government of society…. May we not even say that that form of government is the best which provides the most effectually for a pure selection of these natural aristoi into the offices of government?40
Thomas Jefferson, Letter to John Adams, October 28, 1813, in Jefferson: Writings, ed. Merrill D. Peterson (New York: The Library of America, 1984), 1305–6.
We can clearly see in Madison's and Jefferson's words the Aristotelian influence of virtue being the standard of justice for direct political participation.
In an effort to assuage the popular fears that the founders were surreptitiously seeking to create an oligarchy, they carefully distinguished natural aristocracy from hereditary aristocracy. Madison sought to assure the public that oligarchy was not in store for them by stating: “Could any further proof be required of the republican complexion of this system, the most decisive one might be found in its absolute prohibition of titles of nobility.”41
Hamilton, Madison, and Jay, The Federalist Papers, No. 39: 242.
There are strong minds in every walk of life that will rise superior to the disadvantages of situation and will command the tribute due to their merit, not only from the classes to which they particularly belong, but from the society in general. The door ought to be equally open to all; and I trust, for the credit of human nature, that we shall see examples of such vigorous plants flourishing in the soil of federal as well as of State legislation.42
Ibid., No. 36: 217.
Many of the American founders, like Aristotle, thought that the requisite development of virtue was much more likely to emerge for those whose families had the great fortune of prosperity and access to good education. But they also believed, as did Aristotle, that those external goods of fortune developed and completed the naturally superior abilities that some individuals were born with—and some were born with such an abundance of these abilities that they needed very little in the way of external goods to bring them to fruition. In any event, it was natural merit that qualified some for political office, and the people were trusted and encouraged to vote for those who manifested such worthiness. A mixed constitution, embodying a distinctively American and republican form of government, would be most likely to allow the “natural aristoi” to emerge as leaders in the promotion of the common good.
The Aristotelian seeds of a mixed government were alluded to in Hamilton's speech at the Constitutional Convention (described above), when Hamilton indicated that the best constitution would somehow balance the interests of the many and the few.43
For extensive discussion of how the founders employed the language of blending and mixture when devising and debating the U.S. Constitution, see Richard, The Founders and the Classics, esp. chap. 5; and Eidelberg, The Philosophy of the American Constitution, esp. chap. 7.
Robert Goodin, “On Constitutional Design” (1997), accessed March 16, 2006, online at: http://www.arena.uio.no/publications/working-papers1997/papers/wp97_26.htm.
Gummere, “Epilogue,” in Gummere, The American Colonial Mind and the Classical Tradition, 192.
V. Conclusion
The state of contemporary political discourse and the level of background knowledge that even the college educated frequently manifest are lamentable. We lack a candid and sophisticated public discussion about the sublimated conflict (described in Section I) between aristocratic and democratic values. It is difficult to see how we can make progress on many political issues without such a discussion. Glib references to “our great democracy” and hostility toward those who speak about (aristocratic) merit in politics belie the fact that most people have no more than a passing (if any) familiarity with the U.S. Constitution and little to no knowledge about the political debates that surrounded its creation. Given the nature of constitutions, we cannot directly read off the political theory that underlies them. What look to be elegant and simple ideas that structure our social and political interactions can thus largely mask deep conflicts, such as the conflict between aristocratic and democratic political values. We need to turn to the political discussions and context that surround particular constitutions (or recommendations for constitutional arrangements) in order to understand why certain structures and rules for legal and political organization were advocated.
In keeping with Goodin's insight about constitutional design (noted at the end of the preceding section), David Resnick elaborates on the importance of being sensitive to how abstract constitutional principles can manifest themselves in concrete applications:
It is important to note that general political principles, such as political equality, have to be translated into constitutional rules that provide the institutional mechanisms for the realization of such ideals…. [A]n appreciation of the operation of such constitutional rules is vital for an understanding of how, in fact, powers and privileges are distributed in a society…. While it is sometimes the case that formal constitutional rules are a mere façade … we must not be misled by such cases into underestimating the political significance of constitutional rules for a wide range of issues.46
Resnick, “Justice, Compromise, and Constitutional Rules in Aristotle's Politics,” 75.
With the U.S. Constitution, we have a constitutionally limited representative democracy. Yet we need to go beyond viewing this constitutional structure simply as a way to maintain a modicum of control over competing interests. There are underlying political values and virtues (e.g., merit and judgment, respectively) that can be brought to the surface through frank and extended public discussions, so as to transcend mere group-interest politics.
Aristotle and the American founders provide good models for how to engage in significant and fruitful political and public discussion of issues as sensitive as deciding who merits involvement in political office. Political participation by the many (with whatever virtues they may already embody as a group), with sufficient guidance (through various educational means and a more substantive, serious, and rigorous political discourse) by those of requisite virtue, can help to transform the many into the sort of multitude that Aristotle hinted was possible.
