Whitehead's claim that Western philosophy consists of footnotes to Plato is occasionally emended, by Mortimer Adler among others, to suggest that most of these notes were written by Aristotle. Some, however, believe the Stagirite wrote to criticize his teacher, while others insist the two thinkers are not so far apart. In this interpretation of the Nicomachean Ethics, Ronna Burger defends the latter position. To be sure, she acknowledges, much of the text of the Ethics seems critical of Socrates; if, however, one pays careful attention to Aristotle's caveats, hesitations, and subtle suggestions, Burger claims the Ethics represents not only Aristotle's dialectical engagement with Socrates' claims about the good life but also his eventual acceptance of these claims. Her approach is consistent with those of Leo Strauss and, more explicitly, Seth Benardete, but in the last endnote of the book, Burger suggests her thesis runs afoul of Strauss's understanding of Aristotle's relationship to Plato (288 n. 55).

Strauss suggests Aristotle differs from Plato and Socrates because of his discovery of ethical virtue, the possibility of which Plato's Socrates denies (cf. 228 n. 8, 241 n. 7); he also, and more problematically, indicates Aristotle is a principal source of the view that Plato could be distinguished from his Socrates. For Burger, adequate attention to Aristotle's text undermines both of these claims. Although an appendix shows references to Plato in books 1, 2, and 10, while Socratic references appear only in books 3–4 and 6–7 (218–20), this distinction is, Burger says, artfully contrived by Aristotle so as to construct “the figure of Socrates as a perfect foil against which to develop a different account of virtue of character” (5).

However, just as the Socrates that Aristotle constructs proves to be a “caricature” (78, cf. 86, 89, 137, 215), his account of ethical virtue is, upon close examination, intentionally inconsistent, reducing the self-understanding of the ethically serious gentleman to a “misunderstanding” (202, cf. 33). Aristotle eventually comes to accept the Socratic position that virtue is knowledge (136, 142), concluding that akrasia exists only when “virtue” exists through habituation rather than knowledge (150–52). This should not, Burger says, surprise us: Aristotle hints that the ethical virtues are most fully instantiated in the philosopher (72–73, 81, 87, 95). There are tensions within the various ethical virtues (e.g., 71–72, 82–89) and, more importantly, tensions between the principles that animate the various virtues, ho logos and to kalon (87). The difficulties within the account of justice, for instance, require the introduction of equity for resolution, but equity points beyond itself to phronēsis (104).

Burger's central chapter deals with book 6, which she describes as the “pivotal” moment when Aristotle not only combines “the duality of virtue of character and virtue of thought” but also subordinates this “excellence of action” to “the perfection of theoretical reason” (111). Aristotle acknowledges phronēsis as “the core of genuine virtue,” but denies that ethical virtue “constitutes an independent sphere” (111). He thus undermines the division between ethical and intellectual virtues with which he began and that led him to catalogue the various virtues and vices. The purpose of this detour, Burger claims, was to “stave off as long as possible” the acknowledgment of the truth of the Socratic position (49). It was also, presumably, to emphasize the importance of habituation in forming ethical “virtues” in those incapable of philosophizing (55–56, 207–11).

For those capable of philosophizing, however, only “actions resembling those” of ethical virtue (129, 202–3, cf. 212 n. 68) are required, as the life of sophia is superior to the life of phronēsis-guided ethical virtue. “The final teaching of the Ethics identif[ies] happiness with theōria” (201), but the glowing depiction of the theoretical life Aristotle offers is intended to make philosophy attractive to the nonphilosopher (205–6). The pre-Socratic philosophic life, unconcerned with the human good, cannot recognize itself as the good life for human beings.

Aristotle's understanding of that good life, Burger says, is also his justification for writing the Nicomachean Ethics. It is the life of “the Socratic philosopher,” whose inquiry takes its bearings from the “central concern with the question of what is good for a human being” (213). The best life for human beings “is not solitary or disinterested contemplation of the cosmic whole” but consideration of “the human things,” that is, “the just, the beautiful, and the good” (214). Such consideration, however, cannot be undertaken alone but requires “sharing speeches and thoughts,” which is not only friendship (182–89) but also “what living together means for human beings” (214). The Nicomachean Ethics thus represents a “dialogue in deed” with “the Platonic Socrates or the Socratic Plato” about these very matters (215).

In a way, the title of this book is unfortunate, for Burger's book does much more than recount Aristotle's dialogue with Socrates. Almost every topic in the Ethics that has been a topic of scholarly debate is considered herein, and only rarely does her treatment fail to illuminate matters. Burger shows careful attention to detail in analyzing both the philosophical and literary qualities of the Ethics, and she often finds new depths in the text (see, for instance, 153 and 187–88). Hewing closely to the text of the Ethics, I expect this book to become a standard reference for scholars.

In addition to the merits of her own analysis, Burger makes extensive and sound use of secondary literature from a wide variety of perspectives. This scholarship is relegated to the voluminous endnotes (227–88), which, although exceptionally informative, unfortunately require readers to flip back and forth while reading. In addition to the aforementioned appendix compiling references to Plato and Socrates—though not unnamed references (cf. 93)— Burger also provides appendices that chart the various ethical virtues and related vices, the divisions of justice, and the various classifications of pleasure (221–26).

The book suffers from an entanglement of its argumentative thesis and its commentary character; it is sometimes difficult to follow the thread of the argument through the commentary. Moreover, the commentary character prevents Burger from addressing more fully the difficulties some might have with her thesis (conversely, the argumentative character prevents her from exploring some of the interesting connections she raises, e.g., the connection between the Ethics and the Phaedo). She does not discuss the relationship between Aristotle's Ethics, which exemplifies the Socratic approach to philosophy as concerned with the human good, and his other works that have a different focus. Although I suspect many readers will agree with her, she does not defend at any length her characterization of “Socratic philosophy” as almost exclusively concerned with the dialectical pursuit of human good. Furthermore, not all readers will accept the view that Aristotle's account of the ethical virtues is so incoherent that we are left with no alternative but the Socratic dismissal of them.

Nonetheless, Burger makes a powerful case for her position. She also offers all readers—regardless of whether they are ultimately persuaded about Aristotle's agreement with Socrates—a treatment of the Ethics that is both thoughtful and thought-provoking, one that requires, and rewards, careful rereading.