Quaestio 2.0

     For centuries, Aristotle’s Function Argument has been one of the most hotly debated ideas in philosophy. In essence, in his Nichomachean Ethics, Aristotle develops the idea that humans have a particular function. And, it is within this function that the “good” resides in accordance with virtue. By virtue, Aristotle means a quality that makes one good at performing one’s function. As well, he narrows human function down to three possibilities: 1. the life of nutrition and growth; 2. the life of perception; and, 3. the active life of the element that has a rational principle. After ruling out the first two, he settles on the third as being peculiar to human beings. Essentially, this argument seems to be teleological in that it establishes a baseline for human function as being that which most closely approximates the lives of the gods. Moreover, the language used by Aristotle leads to ambiguity when defining the term function; i.e., it is often conflated with purpose. And, while it may be commonplace to synonymously interpret these terms, it is actually upon these subtle differences that Aristotle’s argument rests. In other words, describing an object’s function, i.e., how something does what it does, is much different than describing its purpose, i.e., what it does. Aristotle essentially spends the first nine chapters of the book fleshing out dismissals of popular conceptions of happiness, elaborate descriptions of human function, and explanations on why human function is important to our sense of moral virtue, only to, almost nonchalantly, wave his hand at all of it in chapter 10 by simply exclaiming that the happy life is “the contemplative life”. What makes the Function Argument itself so appealing to humans, however, is that it attempts not only to define our function but also to separate our function from that of all other forms of life that we know of by saying that it is through our rational activity, i.e., how we do what we do, that we are unique. Hence, the debate continues. So, how does the Function Argument hold up to scrutiny when compared to popular conceptions of happiness?

     One might claim that gaining a lot of money can lead to happiness. For instance, in at least the case of winning the lottery, by Aristotle’s standards the basic supposition is that one is acting in accordance with some rational principle. However, the odds are well known to be stacked so far against an individual as to be almost frivolous. Yet, millions of people still play—some even becoming so entranced by the delusion of the prospect of winning that they can be considered addicted, sometimes selling their houses and cars for it. But, there is no doubt that if they do win, they will be happy. For, they will have access to all of the things they believe will make them happy, even if it is temporary. So, are we to suppose that the purpose of a human being is to try to win and that the function is to try to win well? Is that rational?

     Happiness, another might argue, is doing what one loves to do. If one finds ultimate joy in knitting scarfs, but their scarfs are sights of horror to most in society, then, by the Function Argument, that person is not fulfilling their function since they did not knit the scarfs well. But, this is plainly ridiculous by the fact that they are happy irrespective of other people’s opinions. In fact, the knitter likely doesn’t even care about what their presupposed function is. And, it doesn’t matter whether people do like their scarfs; they are happy in any case when knitting them. In other words, the assumed function—to perform the purpose, in this case knitting, well—is irrelevant when determining happiness.

     Still others may offer the idea that the only way one might gain happiness is through their acceptance by others. For example, a guitar virtuoso obviously performs in an almost unparalleled manner; i.e., he plays the guitar well. However, if people ignore him, he may feel distanced, alone, and perhaps even depressed. Despite how well he plays the guitar, in itself, it does not equal happiness for him. Instead, it is only through others listening to his playing, buying his albums, and frequenting his shows, i.e., through their acceptance, that he feels happiness. So, is it reasonable to claim that being accepted well is how this virtuoso fulfills his function? Of course not! That would imply that his purpose is to be accepted by others. And, this leaves a rather large gap in the logic utilized here; i.e., what if he kills someone? Is it still his purpose to be accepted by others? Considering that neither is his function of playing guitar well conducive to happiness, it is obvious that the Function Argument breaks down here.

     The Function Argument, as Aristotle explains it, is fundamentally dependent upon his idea of virtues and how they essentially consist in the rational activity mentioned before. Admittedly, within the framework of Aristotle’s way of viewing virtues, purpose, and function, his Function Argument seems to be applicable in a number of circumstances. However, the entire argument obviously assumes that human beings have a function. Here, an elaborate dismantling of that assumption, i.e., one that could fill an entire book itself, will be forgone for its thesis. That is, I will simply state that there is nothing in nature that indicates humans have to have a purpose or a function, nor is there a wholly objective scale with which we can compare semantically ambiguous, relative, descriptive terminology, such as how well something is done by someone, effectively rendering the argument itself obsolete.

     Regarding money, the current socioeconomic paradigm is inextricably interlinked with a monetary/market system that almost no one bothers to learn about. Instead, we are forced into believing that we need money. Never mind where it comes from, what it represents, or whether it’s even relevant in our digital age. We are told that all we need to know is that we need money. Thus, the edifice of our all of our wants and the rest of our needs becomes a direct outgrowth of this indoctrinated, unsubstantiated claim; i.e., our wants, needs, and conceptions of happiness are artificially imposed. And this unfortunately continues mostly without question and with total obedience. So, can we really claim that when happenstance bestows a large sum of money upon someone that it automatically means they will be happy because they can go out and buy all of the crap that they have been bombarded with their entire lives by advertising agencies telling them that their life sucks unless they buy the latest, greatest whatever? How could it possibly be considered rational to partake in something so unreasonably, yet obviously, unfair?

     It seems reasonable at first to concede that doing what one loves undoubtedly leads to one’s happiness. However, a number of flaws become apparent when examining this claim, two of which will be outlined here. First, what if, as was the case with the lottery winner and perhaps all of society, the conceptions of what one loves as well as what one deems “happiness” have been imposed upon them. In other words, how is one supposed to know, say, without having experienced much in life, that what they view as love and happiness is accurate or objectively (that is, being as objective as we are capable of being) correct? Secondly, and this hinges on the first, what if someone loves to kill and eat babies, as Albert Fish once did?

     Finally, gaining happiness through the acceptance of others is essentially the same thing as having the concept of happiness imposed. But, this time one is actively seeking this type of imposition outright which seems to indicate they have lost any semblance of self-worth. In other words, they feel as though there is no possible way to bring into fruition self-induced happiness. So, what this amounts to is artificial, presupposed conceptions of happiness being readily accepted from others without question. But, when the fans leave, as in the case of the virtuoso, the happiness leaves with them. And so, he fails to recognize that the most powerful resource on the planet also happens to be the only thing conducive to true happiness—his own mind.