Fall 2015

1 8 I n t e r p r e t a t i o n Volume 42 / Issue 1
the problem of the relation between contemplating and acting. In principle,
we can infinitely contemplate what we must not do, for it requires us to do
nothing at all, and there is no moment in the contemplation when we would
by necessity have to stop contemplating it. But he does not say the same of
positive action, knowing what to do, which may require suspending contemplation
in order to act, and thus require imperfect contemplation.
If Aristotle’s first two arguments give an account of what incontinence
is for one who knows in this qualified way, the next two arguments give an
explicit account of the cause of our knowledge going inactive. Ultimately,
Aristotle concludes that the experience of incontinence is like the experience
of drunkenness or madness or sleep, one in which our knowing is suppressed
by the passions to such a degree that we can speak what we know without
really understanding what we say.
Aristotle’s explanation of incontinence in terms of the absence of knowledge
in the actor appears to vindicate Socrates’s position that it is a failure
in knowing of some sort, or temporary lapses of knowledge we possess, that
lead us to act contrary to that knowledge. Indeed, Aristotle expressly reaches
agreement with Socrates, on the grounds that “it is not when scientific knowledge
in the authoritative sense is present that the experience of incontinence
occurs, nor is it the science that is dragged around on account of passion, but
rather that which is bound up with perception” (1147b16–17).
Although Aristotle’s reconciliation with the Socratic position is explicit—
if we know scientifically we cannot act contrary to such knowledge—this
agreement does not resolve a central issue. For while Aristotle formally
agrees with Socrates that science is not dragged around like a slave, his reasons
for drawing this conclusion say nothing with regard to action. Indeed,
on his account the final premise of action cannot be scientific knowledge,
because the final premise in action is a particular rather than universal,
and is therefore “not scientifically knowable as the universal is scientifically
knowable” (1147b19). Aristotle’s affirmation of the Socratic position thus
preserves the integrity of scientific knowledge, but does so at the expense
of denying it authority over desire or passion or action. There is reason to
wonder whether this explanation can satisfy what Socrates was seeking—an
indefeasible knowledge to control action. A second look at Aristotle’s account
of the incontinent knower is therefore necessary.
Prudence and Science
Aristotle begins his analysis of incontinence in chapter 3 by asking whether
anyone acts incontinently “knowingly [eidotes] or not, and how knowingly”