Aristotle on Happiness and Virtue
An essay on Aristotle’s understanding of the supreme good, its role in human affairs, and where it situates in a context broader than ourselves. Submitted for PHIL 2100 on November 18, 2022.
The supreme good, Aristotle states in Nicomachean Ethics, is that on account of which all of our actions aim toward and that which is pursued as an end in itself without qualification (1094a.18-22). That is, it is complete and “in need of nothing but is self-sufficient” (1176b.7). Due to the “great weight” such a supreme good carries—its capacity to elucidate us with better understanding of ourselves and thus leading to the betterment of ourselves—we should understand just what this good is, what role it plays in human affairs, and where it situates in a context broader than ourselves (1094a.23).
Aristotle believes it is common sense knowledge that the supreme good of human action is happiness, or eudaimonia (1095a.17-18). In other words, if we continue to dig deeper into the root of why we do something, eventually, the reason turns out to be happiness. To Aristotle, in order to achieve virtue as human beings, we must consistently perform our distinctive function well. And our distinctive function as the kind of beings we are is “an activity of soul in accord with virtue” or “in accord with the best and most complete one” if there are several virtues (1098a.15-18). Since doing anything well requires virtue and excellence, living well consists of actions brought about by the rational soul in conformity with virtue and excellence; the practicing of virtue, then, is the key to attaining a happy life. Yet, while happiness being “the end of human concerns” is “pretty much agreed on by most people,” its precise definition is greatly contested (1176a.32). The question of what is the human good, then, is synonymous with the question of what is happiness. Thus, to recognize virtue, we must first define happiness.
Aristotle outlines three models of happiness worthy of his examination: that of pleasure, that of honor, which is the end of political activities, and that of contemplation. In the case of pursuing pleasures as happiness, one becomes a slave to uncontrollable passions as if they are an animal, a “fatted cattle” (1095b.20). Aristotle considers honor as happiness even “more superficial than what is being sought,” since it seems that honor is only legitimized when someone other than the doer witnesses and approves it, and it is all the better if the approver is known to be virtuous, for their approval brings them even more recognition among others who care (1095b.25). Such manifestations of happiness in the disguise of pleasures and honor are transient, fleeting, and conditional upon something else; they are incomplete and never truly yours. But perhaps virtue instead of honor is actually the end of political life, and having a virtuous characteristic is what brings happiness. Empirically, however, we sometimes see virtuous people suffering a multitude of ordeals, and their misfortunes make the argument that they live a happy life a hard thesis to defend (1096a.1).
This leaves the contemplative life as the probable model of happiness for human beings, and Aristotle does reckon that happiness is in fact “a certain contemplation” (1178b.33). Since happiness does not consist in play, it does not accompany honor, and it is not a character, it must reside in activities. And the activities that Aristotle has in mind in which virtue resides are those “that accord with the most excellent virtue,” which to him is the intellect (1177a.10-20). And here comes a noteworthy point: because activities pertaining to wisdom are the most pleasant activities in accord with virtue, and because philosophy purely and abundantly stimulates such pleasures, Aristotle seems to believe that philosophical contemplation is the ultimate activity of human happiness (1177a.25-28). One may recall that Aristotle has deemed intellect—along with pleasure and virtue—as something distinct from happiness, as something we choose for the sake of happiness. This renders his argument of theoretical wisdom, which comes from intellect, a bit jarring, as it seems Aristotle thinks that intellect itself is not perfect and complete, even though what it induces—happiness—is perfect and complete (1097b.2).
Nonetheless, it serves to consider how theoretical wisdom aforementioned is not possible if we, as socially habituated and decision-making beings that we are, do not partake in practical wisdom, which manifests in activities that embody qualities like courage, justice, and self-control. For if one was to be antagonistic to the practical virtues, they are less likely to earn access to external goods such as “friends, wealth, and political power,” which will severely hinder their ability to achieve a happy life (1099b.1). Our happiness requires external goods as well (1099a.31). Recall, in addition, that a similar sentiment is even shown when Aristotle speaks against virtuous character being what makes one happy, for misfortunes, shown in part as the lack of external goods, makes one miserable.
One may then raise the question: is the definition of virtue particular to an individual in accordance with their capacity to engage in virtuous activities? Is it “one that accords with the characteristic proper to him” (1176b.27)? Aristotle rejects this argument, for virtue in a relative and unqualified sense where any definition will suffice so long as it is to one’s liking leads to the doom of relativism—to no answer at all; and this is “empty and pointless” (1094a.21). Aristotle instead pivots to postulate that what defines a happy life, and thus what defines virtuous activities, may in fact be up to “the most authoritative and most architectonic one,” which is the political art (1094a.27-28). That is, the political community we reside in supplies us, in manners both persuasive and coercive, with the authoritative answer of what constitutes the supreme good in human affairs. But while Aristotle acknowledges that his inquiry into the supreme good is “a sort of political inquiry,” the fact that he is conducting such an inquiry at all implies his dissatisfaction with what his political community authoritatively supplies him with in regards to the happy life as a happy human (1094b.12-13). And we, as readers of Nicomachean Ethics, must examine that in our own political and social context as well, for anything otherwise may lure us into a sheepish slumber and away from achieving our very best.