II. Citizens of the Ideal City

The adult male citizens of the ideal city described in Politics VII divide into three groups according to age. Aristotle refers to them as the younger, the older, and “those worn out by time” (Pol. VII.9.1329a33, VIII.7.1342b21).⁸

(Female citizens appear in Aristotle's sketch of the ideal city only as the wives of the male citizens.) The younger men, in their physical prime, are hoplites; the older men, in their intellectual prime, are rulers; and the aged men are priests (VII.9.1329a2–17, 27–34). The older citizens are heads of households, and live with their families on estates farmed by slaves or barbarian serfs (VII.9.1329a25–26, 10.1330a25–31). The city's need for manufactured objects such as saws, plows, shields, and swords is satisfied (presumably) by resident aliens. Freed from the daily grind of eking out a living, the older citizens devote their lives to politics and philosophy (I.7.1255b35–37).

These three divisions of the citizen body correspond to the three types of citizens distinguished in Politics III. The older men, being rulers, are “full” citizens;⁹

the younger men, who will be enrolled as full citizens when they reach intellectual maturity, are “immature” citizens (politai ateleis); and the aged men, who have been relieved of their political duties, are “superannuated” citizens (politai parêkmakotes) (I.12.1259b1–4; III.1.1275a14–17, 5.1278a4–6).

All the citizens of Aristotle's ideal city are, of course, good citizens (Pol. III.4.1277a1–3); otherwise, it would not be an ideal city. But what is a good citizen? Aristotle answers this question by referring to the function of a citizen (1276b29) and appealing implicitly to his functional theory of virtue. The theory turns upon three concepts: function (ergon), good (agathos), and virtue (aretê). According to the theory, a thing is good of its kind if it performs the function of its kind well (EN I.7.1098a8–12). The function of the eyes is to see; the function of a knife is to cut; thus, good eyes are eyes that see well and good knives are knives that cut well. The virtue of a thing that has a function is that which makes it perform its function well (EN II.6.1106a15–24; Pol. III.4.1276b39). The virtues of a knife blade are the qualities that make it cut well, such as sharpness and hardness.¹⁰

To apply this functional theory of virtue to citizens of the ideal city, one must first determine their function in the ideal city. Aristotle finds it helpful here to employ a nautical analogy. Citizens of a city, he says, are like sailors on a ship. Each sailor has his own special function as captain, bowman, or rower, and in addition a common function that he shares with all of his shipmates—the safety of the voyage (Pol. III.4.1276b21–27). Similarly, each citizen has both a common function and his own special function. The common function of all citizens is “the safety of the community,” where the community is identified with the constitution (1276b27–29). The special function of a citizen without qualification—a “full” citizen—is to deliberate and adjudicate (III.1.1275a22–33, b13–21). The special function of an immature citizen serving as a hoplite in the ideal city is to enforce obedience within the city walls and to defend against aggressors beyond the walls (VII.8.1328b7–10). The special function of a superannuated citizen acting as a priest is to honor the gods by serving them (VII.9.1329a27–34).

The account just given of the special functions of the citizens of Aristotle's ideal city is based primarily on Politics VII. We expect such an account in Politics III.4 to flesh out the analogy of citizen and sailor. What we get instead is a distinction between just two types of citizen—the citizen as ruler and the citizen as subject,¹¹

as if Aristotle, in his nautical analogy, had distinguished between just the captain and his crew. Aristotle apparently wishes to focus on the common function of rulers and ruled—the safety of the constitution. In the nautical analogy, the captain serves the common function of captain and crew—the safety of the voyage—by fulfilling his special function as captain; and each crew member serves it by functioning in his special capacity as bowman or rower or whatever, not at random and to suit himself, but under the command of the captain. Similarly, in the ideal city the rulers serve the common function of all citizens by ruling (special function), and the citizens who are ruled serve it by functioning each in his special capacity as warrior or priest under the direction of the rulers. That the pursuit of the common function—the safety of the voyage and of the constitution—requires the subordination of crew to captain and of subjects to rulers while these subordinates function in their special capacities is, for Aristotle, the important point that allows him to ignore the special functions of citizens.

The virtues of rulers and subjects, which make them perform their functions well, are both intellectual and moral. Practical wisdom (phronêsis) is the intellectual virtue of a ruler in the ideal city (Pol. III.4.1277a14, b25), whereas “the [intellectual] virtue of one who is ruled is not practical wisdom, but true belief (doxa alêthês)” (1277b28–29). Even though rulers and subjects differ in their intellectual virtues, Aristotle says that the other virtues (i.e., the moral virtues) must be common to both (1277b25–29): “If he who rules is not temperate and just,¹²

how will he rule nobly (kalôs)? If he who is ruled [is not], how will he be ruled [i.e., obey] nobly? For being intemperate and cowardly he will do none of the things he should” (I.13.1259b39–1260a2). The rulers must necessarily be men of moral virtue (Pol. VII.13.1332a32–38, 15.1334a11–b5) since they are practically wise, which it is impossible to be without moral virtue (EN VI.13.1144b30–32). That a person can possess moral virtue without possessing practical wisdom might seem inconsistent with the doctrine of the Nicomachean Ethics that moral virtue does not come about without practical wisdom (1144b14–17, 31–33). But that doctrine applies only to perfect or complete (telea) moral virtue, which Aristotle carefully distinguishes from the moral virtue of everyone except a ruler (Pol. I.13.1260a14–20).

It is natural to suppose that the moral virtue of a subject is simply an inferior grade of that of a ruler. Aristotle says, for example, that the virtue of a ruler differs from that of a subject as the temperance and bravery of a man differ from the temperance and bravery of a woman, and remarks that “a man would seem cowardly if he were only as brave as a brave woman, and a woman gabby if she were only as decorous as the good man” (Pol. III.4.1277b21–23). Aristotle seems here to be attributing a higher degree of bravery to a brave man than to a brave woman and a higher degree of decorum to a talkative man than to a talkative woman. But this is, nevertheless, not Aristotle's view. Aristotle insists that the moral virtues of a subject differ, not in degree (“more or less”), but in kind from those of a ruler (Pol. I.13.1259b36–38,¹³

III.4.1277b16–20). The passage about gabby women is, in fact, Aristotle's first (feeble) attempt to explain this difference in kind.

His second attempt in the same passage is more successful. After claiming that “the [intellectual] virtue of one who is ruled is not practical wisdom, but true belief,” Aristotle continues: “for the one who is ruled is like a maker of a flute, whereas the ruler is like a flutist who uses it” (Pol. III.4.1277b28–30). This is a good analogy for Aristotle when interpreted in the light of Republic X.601d4–602a1, where Plato attributes knowledge of the good and bad qualities of flutes to the flute-player and true beliefs about such qualities to the flute-maker, and subordinates the beliefs of the maker to the knowledge of the player. It shows how the differing intellectual virtues of ruler and subject differentiate their shared moral virtues. Consider the two kinds of bravery that Aristotle distinguishes: the bravery of a ruler (archikê andreia) and the bravery of a subordinate (hupêretikê andreia) (Pol. I.13.1260a23). Aristotle does not attempt to define these two species of bravery, but we can provide definitions for him by following the analogy. The analogue of the flute would be the things that are truly fearful. The brave ruler has knowledge of these things; the brave subject, true beliefs only. The two species of bravery would thus share the elaborate definition offered at Nicomachean Ethics III.7.1115b17–20 as long as the crucial concept in the definition—reason—is understood generically: in situations inspiring fear, the brave man (be he ruler or subject) “feels and acts as reason¹⁴

(logos) directs” (see also EE III.1.1229a1–2). The two species of bravery would then be differentiated by the kind of reason involved, practical wisdom yielding one and true belief the other. The final point would be that the true belief of the brave subordinate derives either directly or mediately from the practical wisdom of the brave ruler just as the true belief of the flute-maker derives from the knowledge of the flute-player. A similar account could be given of the virtues of temperance and justice.

Before we take leave of the ideal city, we need to resolve an apparent inconsistency in Aristotle's account of its citizens.¹⁵

In Politics III.4, Aristotle asserts that “not all the citizens in the good city can be good [men]” (1277a4–5; see also 1276b37–38). In VII.13, he asserts that all of its citizens are good men: “a city is good in virtue of the citizens who share in the constitution being good [men], and all of our citizens share in the constitution” (1332a32–35). To resolve this apparent contradiction, it is sufficient to notice that Aristotle uses “citizen” in a narrow sense to refer just to full citizens (i.e., rulers) and also in a broad sense that encompasses the ruled as well as their rulers. In such phrases as “the ruled citizen” (ho archomenos politês) (III.5.1278a16–17; see also III.4.1277a21–22), the citizen qualified as “ruled” is clearly not a full citizen. Although Aristotle in Politics VII sometimes counts the warriors of the ideal city, as well as its rulers, as citizens,¹⁶ he also distinguishes the warriors from those “who share in the constitution” (i.e., from full citizens).¹⁷ When in VII.13 he says that all those in his ideal city “who share in the constitution” are good men, those to whom he refers must, then, be full citizens. When in III.4 he asserts that not all citizens of the ideal city can be good men, it is a reasonable hypothesis that the citizens to whom he refers include among their number those who are not full citizens.¹⁸ On this hypothesis, the reason it is impossible, even in the ideal city, for all citizens to be good men is that moral and intellectual virtue must be acquired, and the intellectually immature among the citizens (i.e., the warriors) are still in the process of acquiring it. Although they are becoming good men, they lack practical wisdom (Pol. VII.9.1329a2–17), and thus are not yet good men (EN VI.13.1144b30–1145a6).¹⁹ There is no inconsistency if the assertion in Politics III.4 refers to citizens in the broad sense whereas the one in VII.13 refers to full citizens only.

To round out our discussion of the virtue of a good citizen of the ideal city, we need to recall Aristotle's thesis that it is the same as the virtue of a good man when, and only when, the citizen is a full citizen. Within the context of the ideal city, this is easily understood. The virtue of a good man is practical wisdom, which brings with it all the moral virtues (EN VI.13.1144b30–1145a6). In the ideal city, practical wisdom is the virtue exclusively of a full citizen, since an immature citizen (i.e., a warrior), whose character and intellect are not yet fully formed, has yet to acquire it and a superannuated citizen (i.e., a priest) does not need it in order to perform his priestly function.

III. Citizen Virtue in Non-Ideal Cities

In Aristotle's view, the virtue of a full citizen of a non-ideal city is never the same as the virtue of a good man. Aristotle does not argue for this central idea directly, but it falls out of the argument with which Politics III.4 begins when that argument is combined with the other leading idea of III.4 regarding the identity of the virtue of a good man and the virtue of a full citizen of the ideal city:

Aristotle's explicit argument ends with statement (8)—hence the square brackets around the last two sentences. Statement (10) is not a corollary of statement (8). It follows instead from statements (5), (7), and (9). Statement (10), it is important to note, does not follow without the aid of statement (7) on the oneness of the virtue of a good man; it would be possible without that premise for the virtue of a good man to be identical with the virtue of a full citizen under more than one constitution. I will return to this premise later.

Aristotle repeats one of the key steps in his argument, the inference of statement (5) from statements (3) and (4), later in the Politics when he discusses the desirable qualities of high officials. One such quality, he says, is “virtue and justice—in each constitution the kind pertaining to that constitution. (For if what is just is not the same in relation to all constitutions, there must also be differences [in the virtue] of justice)” (V.9.1309a36–39). This passage is helpful because it indicates that Aristotle has justice especially in mind in the above argument. It is easy to understand why. The connection between a constitution and distributive justice is direct. As the structure of the political offices of a political community (III.1.1274b38, 6.1278b8–11; IV.1.1289a15–18), a constitution is basically just a kind of distributive justice. By defining the qualifications for full citizenship, it determines the distribution of full citizenship among the native population and defines the political rights that go along with citizenship. The virtue of distributive justice, then, is the disposition, or hexis, to believe and to act in conformity with the distributive principles of the constitution under which one lives.²⁰

A good citizen of a democracy, for example, believes that it is just to distribute full citizenship on the basis of free status and native birth, whereas a good citizen of an oligarchy believes that justice demands that full citizenship be distributed on the basis of wealth.

The reference to virtue as well as justice in the passage quoted above (“virtue and justice”)²¹

implies that other virtues of a good citizen in addition to justice are relative to the constitution,²² and Aristotle does indeed offer an account of a kind of bravery, different from true bravery (i.e., the bravery of a citizen of the ideal city), that he calls “citizen” bravery (politikê andreia) (EN III.8.1116a17–b3; EE III.1.1229a13–14, 29–31, 1230a16–26; [MM I.20.1191a5–13]). “Citizens seem to face dangers,” he says, “because of the penalties imposed by the laws and the reproaches and because of the honors” (EN III.8.1116a18–19). The point to notice is that the notion of reason (logos) in the definition of true bravery has now been replaced by the notion of law (nomos): “Citizen bravery is due to law” (EE III.1.1229a29–30). But law varies with the constitution: “For concurrently with and in the same way as the constitutions the laws must also be bad or good, and just or unjust” (Pol. III.11.1282b8–10). It would seem to follow, then, that citizen bravery will vary with the constitution. By this same argument, the virtue of universal justice²³—the disposition, or hexis, to obey the law (to nomimon) (EN V.1.1129a34, 2.1130b9)²⁴—must also vary with the constitution.

Not only must the moral virtue of a good citizen vary with the constitution, but so too apparently must his intellectual virtue. A good citizen's deliberation—in particular, as a member of the assembly (ekklêsia)—accords with the end, or goal, of the constitution he lives under. Since such deliberation must have a correct end, or goal, to be an expression of practical wisdom (EN VI.5.1140a28–30) and since no constitution aside from the ideal constitution has a correct end, or goal, the intellectual virtue of a full citizen living under a non-ideal constitution cannot be practical wisdom. This raises the question whether the faculty of practical reason (dianoia praktikê)²⁵

has any other virtue, or desirable quality, aside from practical wisdom that could be regarded as the virtue of a good citizen of a non-ideal city. The only plausible candidate²⁶ is the ability (dunamis)²⁷ to calculate means to ends, which Aristotle calls “cleverness” (deinotês) (EN VI.12.1144a23–29, 13.1144b14–15; [MM I.34.1197b18–27]). Let us suppose, then, that it is Aristotle's view that cleverness is the intellectual virtue of a full citizen of a non-ideal city and consider whether cleverness is invariant. One might think that it is—that the cleverness of a tyrant is exactly the same as the cleverness of a democratic leader—on the ground that the ability to calculate means to ends, like the ability to add and multiply, is of one sort only. But this does not appear to be Aristotle's view. For he holds that the cleverness itself, rather than the use to which it is put, is good or bad according to whether its goal (skopos) is good or bad: the cleverness of a thief is totally bad, whereas that of the practically wise is praiseworthy (EN VI.12.1144a26–28). Aristotle must, then, hold that the cleverness of the one man differs from the cleverness of the other; otherwise, they could not differ in value. Thus, if we are correct in supposing that for Aristotle cleverness is the intellectual virtue of a full citizen of a non-ideal city, then the intellectual virtue of such a citizen, no less than his moral virtue, will be relative to the constitution of his city and will vary from one form of constitution to another. In fact, the relativity and variability of the moral virtue of a good citizen would seem to follow directly from the relativity and variability of the intellectual virtue of such a citizen.

The plurality of the virtue of a good citizen stands in contrast to the singularity of the virtue of a good man: “[I]t is not possible,” Aristotle asserts, “for there to be one virtue of the upright citizen, namely, complete virtue;²⁸

but we say that the good man is good according to one virtue, namely, complete virtue” (Pol. III.4.1276b3l–34). Why the virtue of a good man is one Aristotle does not say here or elsewhere, even though this denial of moral relativism is the critical premise of his argument for the distinctness of good citizen and good man. He may be tacitly assuming his doctrine of natural law. His discussion of this subject in Nicomachean Ethics V.7 concludes with the following remark: “Things that are just not by natural but by human [enactment] are not the same everywhere, since neither are constitutions [the same everywhere], but one [constitution] only is everywhere by nature the best” (1135a3–5). This remark provides all that is required for an Aristotelian appeal to nature:

If our account of citizen virtue is correct, the virtue of a citizen of a non-ideal city is not only different from, but incompatible with, the virtue of a man. The virtue of the one and the virtue of the other are like dullness and sharpness, which cannot both characterize a knife blade simultaneously. A good man being a man who possesses the virtue of a man (Pol. III.4.1276b33–35) and a good citizen being a citizen who possesses the virtue of a citizen, a good citizen of a non-ideal city cannot be a good man.

IV. Politikoi

The incompatibility of the virtue of a good man and the virtue of a good citizen of a non-ideal city brings with it the prospect of conflict. The stage is set, for example, whenever positive law conflicts with natural law. A good citizen is law-abiding and obedient to the positive law of his city, whereas the allegiance of a good man is to natural law. There could be no such conflict, of course, if there were no good men in non-ideal cities. That this is precisely what Aristotle thinks seems to be the view of Terence Irwin:

This passage is not as clear as one might wish. Irwin does not say explicitly that in Aristotle's view there are no good men in non-ideal cities. But he does imply it. He thinks that Aristotle regards the ideal city as a mere possibility—not a fantasy, but not something actually existing or immediately feasible either³²

—and, as long as there are no ideal cities, assertion (c) entails that there are no good men at all and a fortiori that there are none in non-ideal cities. What are Irwin's grounds for assertion (c)? The assertion seems to be offered on the basis of statement (b), from which it does indeed follow if we assume the result of the last section, that a good citizen of a non-ideal city cannot be a good man:

We need to consider whether Aristotle thinks that there are any good men. If he does think that there are, and if he also thinks that the ideal city is a mere possibility that does not exist anywhere, then he must think that the conclusion of the foregoing argument is false. In that case, since the argument is valid, we would expect him to deny at least one of its premises; and the premise we would expect him to reject, given that we have already argued that he accepts premise (2), is premise (1). The very writing of the Politics suggests that Aristotle does think that there are good men. The Politics is a political manual with a practical aim. For whom was it written if not for good men? The treatise is addressed to “the good lawgiver and the true politikos” (IV.1.1288b27). If Aristotle thinks there are no good men, he must think either that there are no true politikoi³³

or that a true politikos need not be a good man. Neither alternative can be sustained.

The adjective politikos used substantively for anêr politikos (“political man”) is not easily rendered in English. “Statesman” is too grand; “politician” too pejorative. The Athenian statesmen Pericles, Aristides, and Themistocles were politikoi (Plato, Meno 93b6–100a2), but so too was the infamous Meletus, Socrates' chief accuser (Plato, Euthphr. 2c8). At the same time, not every Athenian citizen would be labeled a politikos. Socrates denies that he is a politikos (Plato, Gorg. 473e6);³⁴

and when he sets out to refute the Delphic oracle, he questions representatives of three groups—poets, craftsmen, and politikoi (Plato, Ap. 21b1–22e5)—thus marking politikoi off from other citizens. In ancient Greece, then, a politikos was apparently a citizen who played an active role, for better or for worse, in the politics of his city.

Plato famously distinguished the “true” politikos from the politikoi of fifth- and fourth-century Athens (Rep. IV.426d5; Plt. 300c9–10). He regarded none of the politikoi listed above as “true” politikoi. Aristotle follows Plato in distinguishing true politikoi from untrue, though he appears to allow that at least a few of the politikoi of history were true politikoi: “But the majority (hoi polloi)³⁵

of politikoi do not truly bear the name, for they are not politikoi in truth. For the [true] politikos is one who chooses fine acts for their own sake, whereas the majority [of politikoi] take up this sort of life for the sake of money and greed” (EE I.5.1216a23–27; see also EN I.13.1102a7–10). There must be a few politikoi who truly bear the name if the majority, rather than the totality, do not. Since Aristotle never claims that his ideal city exists, he must think that these true politikoi live in non-ideal cities. A true politikos is a possessor of political expertise (politikê),³⁶ just as a true physician (iatros) is a possessor of medical expertise (iatrikê); and political expertise is, in turn, a kind of practical wisdom (see Pol. IV.1.1289a12). Consequently, a true politikos must be practically wise and hence a good man. So Aristotle thinks that there are good men in non-ideal cities.

V. Politikê

Now that we know that Aristotle does think there are good men in non-ideal cities, we want to know his view of the life of such a man. We can begin with Aristotle's account of politikê, the intellectual virtue of the true politikos. There are two important passages on this virtue, one in the Ethics and one in the Politics. In Nicomachean Ethics VI.8, Aristotle offers an elaborate taxonomy of politikê, part of which can only be understood as the delineation of the intellectual virtue of a citizen of the ideal city. In Politics IV.1, in contrast, he focuses on a species of politikê that is tied neither to citizenship nor to the ideal city.

In Aristotle's taxonomy, politikê has both a broad and a narrow sense. In the broad sense, it is a genus with species and subspecies within a wider genus. (See table 1.)³⁷

The three species of practical wisdom deal with the individual, the family, and the city. Aristotle divides politikê in the broad, or generic, sense into two species: politikê in the narrow, or specific, sense and legislative expertise (nomothetikê). Narrow politikê is the intellectual virtue of a full citizen of the ideal city, as we can see by examining its two subspecies: deliberative expertise (bouleutikê) and judicial expertise (dikastikê), the virtues of an assemblyman (ekklêsiastês) and of a juror (dikastês), respectively. Since juror and assemblyman are the offices definitive of full citizenship (Pol. III.1.1275b17–21), their respective virtues must be virtues of a citizen. Furthermore, they must be virtues of a citizen of the ideal city; for they are kinds of practical wisdom, which in Aristotle's view is the virtue exclusively of a full citizen of the ideal city.³⁹

Legislative expertise (nomothetikê), the virtue coordinate with narrow politikê, deals with laws and constitutions. It differs from narrow politikê in two respects. First of all, it deals with universals, whereas narrow politikê is concerned with particulars (EN VI.8.1141b25–30). A constitution is a universal in that it is the form of a city (Pol. III.3.1276a17–b13)—two cities can both be democracies as Callias and Cebes can both be human—and a law, in contrast to a decree (psêphisma), which addresses particular issues, applies universally (EN V.10.1137b26–29). The second respect in which legislative expertise differs from narrow politikê is in being architectonic: its possessor, the lawgiver, stands to the politikos in the narrow sense—the juror and the assemblyman—as an architect stands to his manual workers. The lawgiver designs the structure, the constitution and the laws, within which the juror and the assemblyman function in their everyday political activities, passing decrees in the assembly and deciding individual lawsuits. It is important to note that in ancient Greece lawgivers were often invited to foreign cities to advise on constitutional issues (Pol. II.12.1273b27–34, quoted below), which means that a lawgiver could exercise his legislative expertise as an alien. Legislative expertise, unlike narrow politikê, is a virtue untethered to citizenship.

Politics IV.1 is devoted to this virtue. “The good lawgiver and the true politikos” (1288b27), Aristotle tells us, must know not only (i) which constitution is best without qualification (haplôs) and (ii) which is best in given circumstances, but also (iii) which is best given certain assumptions and (iv) which is the most suitable for all cities; and in addition he must know (v) how to preserve an existing constitution and (vi) which laws are best and which are suitable for each constitution. The fifth item on this list is particularly noteworthy in that it introduces political stability as one concern of legislative expertise. The importance of political stability in Aristotle's eyes can be gauged from the fact that an entire book of the Politics, Book V, is devoted to an analysis of the things that destroy constitutions and the methods by which they can be preserved. The only item on the list that relates directly to the ideal city is the first, though some of the others may relate to it indirectly, depending upon the extent to which the ideal city is the beacon, if not the goal, of political reform.

Aristotle does not envisage the good lawgiver and true politikos living in an ivory tower—the Academy or the Lyceum—spinning out utopias; he pictures him instead playing the role of elder statesman and lawgiver in the political life of Greece. We get an idea of what Aristotle has in mind from his description of the activities of some actual lawgivers: “Of those who have expressed some view about a constitution, some took no part in political actions of any sort, but always lived a private life…. Others have become lawgivers, engaging in politics themselves, some in their own cities, others in certain foreign ones as well. Some of these were craftsmen of laws only, others, like Lycurgus and Solon, of a constitution as well, for these established both laws and constitutions” (Pol. II.12.1273b27–34). Aristotle does not tell us how he ranks the aforementioned lawgivers, whether he regarded any of them as “good” lawgivers and hence as practically wise.⁴⁰

Nonetheless, as Politics IV.1 makes plain, there can be no doubt that he envisages the possibility of a “good” lawgiver and “true” politikos doing what Lycurgus and Solon were doing, making laws and framing constitutions for non-ideal cities. He says this explicitly in the following passage: “[The good lawgiver and true politikos] should propose the sort of [constitutional] arrangement in which, starting from their existing ones, men will easily be persuaded, and be able, to participate. To correct a constitution is no less a task than to establish it from the beginning, just as it is no less a task to unlearn something than to learn it from the beginning. That is why in addition to the aforementioned tasks [of ideal politics] the politikos should be able to come to the aid of existing constitutions” (IV.1.1289a1–7).

What conclusions can we draw from these passages from the Ethics and the Politics? First of all, Aristotle takes it for granted that there are good men engaging in political activities in non-ideal cities. Secondly, Aristotle envisages the true politikos as a reformer (rather than a revolutionary) who seeks to preserve, repair, and improve existing political structures. As a craftsman of laws and constitutions, the true politikos does the best he can in the given circumstances “just as a good general uses the army currently available in the most militarily effective way, and a cobbler makes the finest sandal from the leather given him; and similarly with all the other craftsmen” (EN I.10.1101a3–6). The third point is that the true politikos, when serving as a lawgiver in an alien city, is exercising the virtue of a good man, not the virtue of a good citizen. And the final point is that this also holds for a true politikos when he exercises his politikê in a non-ideal city of which he is a citizen: the virtue he exercises is the virtue of a good man, not the virtue of a good citizen of his native city. One would thus expect that situations would arise where a true politikos (i.e., a good man) would act differently from a good citizen of a non-ideal city. But this has been denied. Richard Kraut claims that “[n]othing [Aristotle] says in [Pol. III.4] or elsewhere suggests that one [i.e., a good man] should deviate from the requirements of good citizenship.”⁴¹

We need to examine whether Kraut is right.⁴²

VI. Conflict

The lofty standpoint of the Ethics and the Politics makes it difficult to determine whether Aristotle ever envisaged the possibility that the requirements on a man qua citizen might be at variance with those on him qua man. But whether or not he ever envisaged the possibility, his conceptualization seems to lead directly to it. We can see this if we imagine two ancient Athenian citizens during a period when Athens was a democracy. One, whom we shall call “Democrates,” has the virtues of a democratic Athenian citizen. Let us suppose that he is the best citizen that an education in harmony with the Athenian constitution can produce. Being a good citizen of a non-ideal city, Democrates is not, without qualification, a good man. The most he can aspire to in the way of intellectual virtue is cleverness; and his bravery, temperance, and justice are all relative to the imperfect Athenian constitution. His justice, in particular, is the disposition to obey democratic Athenian laws. Since Aristotle thinks that democracy is a mistaken and deviant constitution, resting as it does on a false conception of freedom and equality,⁴³

and that laws that accord with deviant constitutions are not just (Pol. III.11.1282b6–13), Democrates, in obeying Athenian laws, will do many things that are—from the perspective of the ideal city, the only city that is just by nature—not just. The other Athenian citizen that we shall hypothesize—call him “Ariston”—is a true politikos and hence a good man. He is practically wise and unqualifiedly brave, temperate, and just. His justice, in contrast to that of Democrates, is relative to the ideal constitution; he is disposed to obey ideal law rather than Athenian law. Since the aristocratic justice of the ideal constitution differs from democratic justice, one would expect that Ariston and Democrates would sometimes, in matters relating to the city, act differently: if their states of character (hexeis) differ, one would expect the actions that express their states of character to sometimes differ. When this happens, Democrates performs the action of a good Athenian citizen, and Ariston does not. This is the conclusion to which Aristotle's analysis seems to lead. As we have seen, however, it is not universally accepted.

Richard Kraut claims that nothing in Politics III.4 or elsewhere in Aristotle suggests that a good man should deviate from the requirements of good citizenship. W. L. Newman, the great Victorian commentator on the Politics, follows a similar line. Though he concedes that Aristotle's conceptualization allows for such a conflict, Newman suggests, at least rhetorically, that Aristotle would resolve the conflict in favor of good citizenship: “If the virtue of a citizen is relative to the preservation of the constitution … a good citizen must apparently do what tends to preserve the constitution, however bad the constitution may be, but what would Aristotle say that a good man ought do in such a case? Subordinate his conscience to the maintenance of the constitution?”⁴⁴

What reasons could there be for attributing to Aristotle the belief that good men, in their actions at least, are indistinguishable from good citizens—that they obey the law and never conspire to overturn the constitution of their city? There are at least three reasons. First of all, Aristotle places a high value on political stability, as is evident from the fact that he devotes an entire book of the Politics to the preservation of constitutions, including even repressive tyranny. Secondly, he believes that for good men to act other than as good citizens in any politically significant way would be fruitless due to the paucity of their numbers. He remarks, in discussing faction, that “those who excel in virtue [i.e., the good] would form a faction with the most justice of anyone (though they do this least of all), for it is most reasonable to regard as unequal without qualification these alone” (Pol. V.1.1301a39–b1), and he later gives as the reason for their inaction their cognizance that “they are few against many” (V.4.1304b4–5). Thirdly, Aristotle appears to think that for a good man to act other than as a good citizen sets a bad example that could encourage lawlessness. This, at any rate, is a moral that is easily drawn from Aristotle's advice to exercise great caution in changing the law: “For when the improvement is small, and [when we take into account that] habituating men to lightheartedly annul the law is bad, it becomes clear that some mistakes of lawgivers and of rulers should be tolerated; for [a city] will not be benefited as much in making a change as it will be harmed in being habituated to disobey its rulers…. For the law has no strength to secure obedience apart from habit, and this is not generated except over a length of time” (Pol. II.8.1269a14–22). If Aristotle thinks that great caution is advised in changing the law, it is reasonable to suppose that he also thinks that similar caution is advised in disobeying the law. Were the good man to disobey the law, his disobedience—supposing he is held in esteem in his native city and regarded as an exemplar of moral and intellectual virtue—might encourage casual disobedience in others and lead ultimately to the breakdown of law and order.⁴⁵

Our imagined citizen Ariston, on this interpretation, behaves as an obedient Athenian citizen because he wishes to avoid political instability, fears setting a bad example, and recognizes the impotence of the good in the face of the many. It is important to note, however, that he obeys Athenian law, not out of allegiance to democratic values, but because his practical wisdom leads him to conclude that disobedience would be unwise: he acts in accordance with democratic virtue without acting from democratic virtue.⁴⁶

Does Aristotle think, then, that the good man's obedience to law and to the ruler or rulers of his city should be absolute? Does he think that a good man should be a supine slave to political authority? We can infer a negative answer from the one passage in the Nicomachean Ethics where Aristotle considers a moral dilemma. In illustrating the difference between coercion (a “mixed action”) and compulsion, or brute force, Aristotle says it would be a mixed action (a case of coercion rather than compulsion) “if a tyrant were to order a man to do something shameful, having his parents and children in his power, and if he did the thing, they would be saved, but if he did not, they would be killed” (EN III.1.1110a5–7). What is important to note is that the man is in a difficult spot, not because the tyrant ordered him to do something shameful, but because his parents and children are in the tyrant's power. The implication is that a good man would disobey the tyrant if his parents and children were not in the tyrant's power. Thus, if good citizens always obey their rulers, we have evidence that Aristotle believes that the action of a good man sometimes differs from that of a good citizen. But the situation envisaged is unusual. With a bit of moral luck, Ariston will never find himself in it. We need to ask whether there is a situation regularly occurring in ordinary life where Ariston's actions are bound to differ from those of a good citizen. Aristotle suggests such a situation himself.

Let us suppose that Ariston has a son (call him “Aristides”). Like all good fathers, Ariston is interested in the moral education of his son. As Aristotle says, “A father is responsible for his son's existence … and for his nurture and education” (EN VIII.11.1161a16–17). What sort of education should Ariston provide—one that will produce a good man or one that will produce a good Athenian citizen? These are different in Aristotle's view. The education of a good Athenian citizen is relative to the Athenian constitution. Thus, Aristotle says that “people should be educated in harmony with each [particular] constitution” (Pol. VIII.1.1337a14). “There is no benefit in the most beneficial laws,” he claims, “unless people are habituated and educated in the constitution—democratically if the laws are democratic, oligarchically if they are oligarchic” (Pol. V.9.1310a14–18).⁴⁷

Aristotle does not go into detail about the education of a good citizen of a non-ideal city.⁴⁸ He has more to say about the education of a good man.

Aristotle naturally distinguishes such an education from the education of a good citizen of a non-ideal city: “With respect to the education of the individual, by which a man is good without qualification, whether this belongs to politikê or to another [art],⁴⁹

let us inquire later; for presumably it is not the same to be a good man and to be every sort of good citizen” (EN V.2.1130b26–29). That the art is indeed politikê is the doctrine of the Politics. After reminding his reader in Politics III.18 that it has already been established that the virtue of a man and the virtue of a (full) citizen of the ideal city are the same, Aristotle goes on to say that “the education and habits that make a man good will be nearly the same as those that make him politikon and kingly” (III.18.1288a41–b2). The art that makes a man politikon can only be politikê; and Aristotle devotes an entire book of the Politics, Book VIII, to the sort of education that the citizens of the ideal city will receive. He also indicates that an education that would make a man a politikos is the sort of education that any good man would want for his son. He remarks of those who engage in ordinary politics as assemblymen and jurors that they “have not made politikoi of their own sons or any other of their friends. But that would be reasonable if they were able” (EN X.9.1181a1–7).

If Ariston is to make a true politikos of his son Aristides, he must teach him to be just without qualification rather than just relative to the Athenian constitution. The justice that Ariston will cultivate in Aristides is the aristocratic justice of the ideal city which distributes offices and honors on the basis of virtue. Aristides will be taught, in particular, that it would be just to deprive Athenian artisans and laborers of their full citizenship. As Aristotle says, “in some constitution [e.g., Athenian democracy] the artisan and the laborer must be citizens; in others that is impossible—for example, in any that is called ‘aristocratic’ and in which honors are given on the basis of virtue and worth. For it is not possible to engage in virtuous activities while living the life of an artisan or laborer” (Pol. III.5.1278a17–21; see also VII.9.1328b39–41). This brings us to the central question: Will Ariston in teaching this to Aristides be acting as a good Athenian citizen? The matter is complex. Although Athenian democracy of the fourth century awarded full citizenship to artisans and laborers, Aristotle describes another type of democracy, agricultural democracy, that awards full citizenship to farmers but not to artisans, traders, and laborers (Pol. VI.4.1318b6–1319a19). One might infer, then, that Ariston could advocate reform of Athenian democracy in the direction of agricultural democracy while remaining a good Athenian citizen. But this seems wrong. A good Athenian citizen must be an exponent of democratic justice, which distributes offices and honors to native Athenians on the basis of free status. The only ground that he could have for depriving artisans and laborers of full citizenship is some defect in their status as free and native born, such as descent from slaves (III.5.1278a6–7, 26–34). A staunch democrat like our imagined citizen Democrates will favor the extension, rather than the contraction, of citizenship—a point borne out by the actual direction of democratic reform in both Athenian and American history. Aristides will be taught to favor reform in the opposite, aristocratic, direction. Since that is something no good Athenian citizen would teach his sons, the actions of Ariston, in educating Aristides, will be at variance from those of a good Athenian citizen.