4.1.1 Intrinsic Change in the Matter

In the first book of the Physics, Aristotle has not yet identified the items with which physics as a discipline is concerned. The reader/listener does not yet know either what nature is or what the features of natural beings are. For our purposes, this also means that Aristotle has not yet argued for the exclusion of artefacts from his discussion. Phys. 1.7 illustrates the coming-to-be of several artefacts. However, the processes through which these artefacts come-to-be can be described as alterations, or, let us say, as qualified comings-to-be, rather than as instances of generation in the proper sense. On the one hand, if the production of artefacts is merely an alteration of some matter, artefacts will not be hylomorphic compounds but either accidental compounds or even just matter. On the other hand, if the coming-to-be of artefacts is to be regarded as an instance of unqualified coming-to-be, then artefacts will be hylomorphic compounds. Aristotle ascribes unqualified coming-to-be to artefacts, and this change consists in the performance of an alteration of some matter with a view to a specific form. Significantly, the ascription of unqualified coming-to-be to artefacts entails that artefacts have forms (i.e. that they are hylomorphic compounds).

In Phys. 1.7, Aristotle begins by clearly introducing artificial production as an unqualified coming-to-be, referring to ‘things that come-to-be unqualifiedly’ (ta gignomena haplôs) in relation to statues and houses. An unqualified coming-to-be is the coming-to-be of a substance as opposed to the coming-to-be something. The former is an instance of generation in the proper sense, whereas the latter is the acquisition of a property, such as a quality or quantity, by a substrate. Generation is opposed to qualified coming-to-be. An artefact’s coming-to-be is classed together with reproduction in living beings, in which the outcome is a new substance and not simply a substrate having undergone a change in property. Unqualified and qualified comings-to-be have in common the fact that there must be an underlying thing out of which the product is generated. In the case of qualified coming-to-be, such as Socrates becoming musical, that there is a pre-existing thing underlying the change (i.e. Socrates) is obvious; in the case of unqualified coming-to-be, by contrast, the need for such a pre-existing thing becomes clear only once ‘you look attentively’ (190b1–3). Thus, Aristotle refers to the more straightforward example of artefacts:

It is not a simple task to grasp why Socrates becoming musical and a stone becoming shaped are two different cases. Nonetheless, Aristotle clearly regards the case of a Hermes coming-to-be out of a piece of stone as an unqualified coming-to-be, as opposed to the qualified coming-to-be found in the case of Socrates learning music. Where, exactly, is the difference? It is plausible that Aristotle employs examples of artefacts because they illustrate more clearly that there is also something pre-existing in unqualified coming-to-be.Footnote ¹ The case of the seed in the coming-to-be of a living being is briefly mentioned, but is perhaps not sufficiently clear since the seed is less visibly present in the offspring.Footnote ² One might argue that Phys. 1.7 is primarily interested in various types of changes and merely uses artefacts to help to explain unqualified coming-to-be. Yet, it would be odd to refer to a qualified coming-to-be to illustrate the way in which unqualified coming-to-be differs from qualified coming-to-be.Footnote ³ Furthermore, in Phys. 7.3, Aristotle states that it would be absurd (atopon) ‘to say of a man or house or anything else that has come into existence as having been altered’ (Phys. 7.3, 246a4–6). A house is generated but not altered to the same extent as a man.

In qualified coming-to-be, the feature that changes must be one that ceases to be at the end of the process. For instance, ‘non-musical’ is that property that ceases to be when ‘musical’ comes-to-be present, with the change occurring between stage₁, in which Socrates does not know music, and stage₂, in which Socrates does know music. By contrast, in an unqualified coming-to-be, that which changes (i.e. the substrate) must also be present in the final product. The stone out of which Hermes comes-to-be does change, but it is still present in the statue that is produced. Aristotle does not regard this as alteration, but rather as an instance of generation through subtraction. Subtraction itself, like other processes, is an alteration, but that which comes into being is not altered; rather, the matter being altered gives rise to a coming-to-be (246a6–9). All unqualified comings-to-be are connected to, but not reducible to, other kinds of changes. Let us now consider more carefully Aristotle’s list of alterations through which new objects come-to-be. Phys. 1.7 has been mostly mentioned within the debate concerning prime matter. To my knowledge, there have not been modern attempts to address such instances of coming-to-be in their own right. Here is a tentative list of the various processes through which coming-to-be might occur: shape-change (metaschêmatisis), addition (prosthesis), subtraction (aphaeresis), composition (sunthesis) and alteration (alloiôsis).Footnote ⁴ I will present my analysis with reference to a passage from Met. H 2 enumerating similar cases. H 2 offers a list of the various differentiae predicated of matter in which several examples of artefacts figure. The differentiae, such as, for instance, composition, coincide with coming-to-be only to a certain extent, since they shift the focus from coming-to-be to being.Footnote ⁵ It is, however, important to bear in mind that Met. H 2 does not concern itself with things that come-to-be unqualifiedly, but only with the ways in which things differ from one another. This means that it does not establish which cases are cases of proper unqualified coming-to-be but only by which actuality things are demarcated from everything else. As we shall see, only in the case of unqualified comings-to-be do such differentiae also indicate by which change a certain thing came into existence.

1. i. Shape-change is the means by which a statue comes-to-be. Depending on the way in which a piece of wax is shaped, either a cube or a sphere comes-to-be. The change in the shape of wax corresponds to the coming-to-be of the statue. The difference between the wax (mere matter) and the statue is accounted for by the process of shape-change undergone by the matter, according to the specific shape the sculptor wishes to realise. The statue undergoes unqualified coming-to-be because the matter has been altered in a certain way.Footnote ⁶

2. ii. Aristotle refers the process of addition to the coming-to-be of things that grow (ta auxanomena). The case of prosthesis is problematic precisely because of the reference to ‘things that grow’.Footnote ⁷ Growth is, indeed, not an unqualified coming-to-be. However, there must be a sense in which addition is not only a mode of growth, such as in the case of nourishment, but also of coming-to-be. Things that grow are usually living beings, but they do not come-to-be through addition. One might say that living beings come-to-be out of a seed through addition: perhaps through the addition of the semen to the katamênia. However, Aristotle does not describe the generation of animals in terms of addition. The semen is not simply added to the menstrual fluid, but rather acts on it like rennet on milk.Footnote ⁸ The expression ‘things that grow’ is mostly used in HA, where it is clear that Aristotle is using it to refer to living beings, but there is a specific subset of these things that come-to-be by addition, in the sense of nutrition or change with respect to quantity. Examples of these include bees, drones, ants that come-to-be from grubs and animals that come-to-be from eggs. In a way, the case of plants could be accommodated here too. One can conceive of the seed as undergoing addition and the plant as coming-to-be by imagining water being added (addition) to a seed (matter) in such a way as to generate a plant. The only problem with this interpretation is that it is unclear how the case of addition is any different from the case of composition. In fact, in both cases heterogenous materials are added to each other. The difference between addition and composition is therefore that, in the case of addition, there is something that grows and something that is added to it. Usually, the thing that grows is a substance and the thing that is added is nutrition. By contrast, in the case of composition, these roles cannot be distinguished – for it is not the case that one thing grows and another nourishes it.Footnote ⁹

3. iii. Subtraction raises several concerns. Is subtraction meant to be a version of shape-change? Is subtraction simply complementary to addition? Subtraction, Aristotle suggests, is the mean by which a Hermes comes-to-be. Suppose an artisan has a block of stone; the production then involves a series of subtractions by means of which it receives the shape of Hermes. To understand the difference between subtraction and shape-change, let us imagine a malleable material. One could roll it in such a way as to make it round: a sphere could thus come-to-be through a change of shape. One could also have too much material and subtract some of it from the block. In this way, subtraction is similar to change of shape in that the underlying matter is a homogeneous material. By contrast, subtraction might or might not be complementary to addition: as we have seen, in the case of things that grow, the process involves heterogeneous materials, whereas subtraction seems to primarily involve homogenous material. The addition of homogenous materials is in principle possible, but we must then distinguish between this addition (which is complementary to subtraction) and biological addition (ii).

4. iv. The coming-to-be of a house is due to composition (sunthesis).Footnote ¹⁰ The composition of bricks, stones and timbers in the right way produces a house.Footnote ¹¹ Aristotle regards sunthesis as a possible differentia in Met. H 2.Footnote ¹² Composition is the act of putting together heterogeneous materials. Composition itself may further be divided into kinds, such as those listed in Met. H 2, 1042b15–19. There, Aristotle argues that some things are said to differ through the composition of their matter (ta men sunthesei tês hulês) using the following examples: honey-water by blending (krasei), a bundle by tying (desmôi), a book by gluing (kollêi) and a casket by nailing (gomphôi). All such kinds of composition require heterogeneous materials. In this regard, composition differs from addition, but not from biological addition.

5. v. Alteration is frequently opposed to coming-to-be in that it is a qualified coming-to-be. In Phys. 1.7, it is presented as a qualified coming-to-be on which an unqualified coming-to-be supervenes and concerns ‘things which change in respect of their matter’. Aristotle intends to address those cases in which the change of matter is not a mere alteration but produces a new substance. Ice is a possible example of this: in Met. H 2, Aristotle defines ice as ‘water frozen or solidified in such and such a way’. The alteration of water, in this case its solidification, is not merely a qualified coming-to-be that happens to water, but an unqualified coming-to-be that happens to ice. The alteration as such brings ice into existence. In Met. H 2, 1042b22, Aristotle states that some things are said to differ by virtue of the affections proper to perceptible things (ta de tois tôs aisthêtôn pathesin), such as hardness and softness, denseness and rarity, and dryness and wetness. In GC 1.4, 319b16, water becoming air is presented as a coming-to-be. In GC 1.5, 321a15-17, Aristotle clearly states that the change of water into air is not growth (i.e. a qualified coming-to-be, but that it constitutes the ceasing-to-be of water and the coming-to-be of air).

In all of these cases, there is something that pre-exists the simple coming-to-be underlying the production, that is, a substrate that, after the coming-to-be, takes on a substantial form, but which is still present in the final result: in the case of the statue, it is the wax; in the case of a wall, the bricks; in the case of a Hermes, the stone; in the case of a house, the materials; and, in the case of ice, water. The underlying thing must surely both pre-exist and undergo change as a result of the generation. In GC 1.4, Aristotle makes the same point: once the coming-to-be occurs, the substrate is still present, it just cannot be perceived as the whole that it was before the coming-to-be.Footnote ¹³

Phys. 1.7 not only shows that artefacts have matter and that this matter pre-exists the compound, but, more importantly, it leads to two significant conclusions. First, artefacts undergo unqualified coming-to-be, which suggests that they are hylomorphic compounds and not merely material substrates that acquire a property (i.e. accidental compounds). It is a house that comes-to-be, not merely bricks or bricks arranged in a house-like manner. Second, for an artefact to come into existence, there needs to be a material substrate that must change in a relevant fashion. What is such a change in the matter? The matter needs either (i) to continue to be of the same kind, but to increase or decrease in quantity or undergo a change in shape or (ii) to be assembled out of heterogeneous components, or (iii) to be internally altered in some relevant way.Footnote ¹⁴ In all cases in which the matter consists of parts, these parts are fused together into a single thing: this is the relevant change. Several homogenous parts may be fused into one thing by adding them together (non-biological addition) or by removing some of them (subtraction), or again several heterogeneous parts in a state of separation can be combined into a single object (composition and biological addition). Other ways in which the matter can undergo an intrinsic change allowing for a generation are changing shape (shape-change) or undergoing alterations in its stuff (alteration in such a way as to create a new substance). How, then, does this differ from the case of Socrates becoming musical? ‘Turning musical’ also seems to be an intrinsic change of the substrate. However, in our cases, the alteration of the matter is that through which a new object comes into existence. The thing that comes-to-be is both new and the same as what it was before the change.

I have supplemented the analysis of Phys. 1.7 with Met. H 2. Because the processes leading to new substances in the realm of coming-to-be correspond to the differentiae in the realm of being, let us now focus on Met. H 2. Here, Aristotle presents a series of examples of human-dependent objects and lists their differentiae (i.e. what makes each of the them different from the others):

Some examples are similar to what we find in Phys. 1.7: for instance, the house is defined by the composition of its matter. However, in Met. H 2, Aristotle also mentions cases in which the outcome differs in virtue of position, time and place. This passage raises a problem concerning the completeness of the discussion in Phys. 1.7. Is the list of the means of artificial generation exhaustive? In Met. H 2, the threshold and the lintel differ by position (thesei), the winds differ by place (topôi), and breakfast and dinner differ by the time (chronôi) in which they are served. Should one group together such cases with those things differing from each other by the affections proper to perceptible things? There are two main reasons for thinking that we should not do so: (i) they are not affections exclusive to perceptible substances, since place and time might pertain also to things without matter; (ii) more importantly, Aristotle clearly distinguishes such cases from the case of things differing by affections proper to perceptible things, in Met. H 2. Should we therefore say that the list in Phys. 1.7 is not exhaustive, since it overlooks position, time and place (at least), or are we rather to believe that these cases do not qualify as means to generation? All of the processes that Aristotle explicitly presents as means to generation require an intrinsic change in the matter consisting of several parts fused together or in a substrate that changes internally. In the case of things differing by place, position and time, it is the case neither that several parts of the matter are fused together nor that a substrate is internally changed (i.e. the matter does not undergo any relevant change). For a new substance to come into existence, not only does the matter need to pre-exist, but it must also change. A given matter that is merely placed somewhere else or consumed at another time is not a matter for the coming-to-be of a new substance. The change required in the matter has to happen to the matter intrinsically: on its own, no external change, such as change of position or time, can bring into existence a genuine new artefact; a change that does not fuse together parts into a single thing or does not internally alter a substrate cannot lead to generation. A stone that is merely put on top of some sheets of paper does not undergo any intrinsic change, such that the stone is simply a stone and not the matter out of which a paperweight comes-to-be. Placing something does not count as an alteration corresponding to the coming-to-be of an object. A cucumber I eat in the morning is simply a cucumber and is not the matter for the coming-to-be of a breakfast, just because it is eaten in the morning.Footnote ¹⁵ The list from Phys. 1.7 might not be exhaustive, but all of the examples are alike in that the matter undergoes a relevant change through which several parts are fused together into a single thing, except in the case of shape-change and alteration, in which there is only one part, but one that is still intrinsically modified in its constitutive stuff. In Met. H 2, the cases that correspond to proper generation in Phys. 1.7 are introduced as cases in which there is a ‘composition of the matter’. It is an alteration of the matter that allows for the coming-to-be. One speaks of matter with reference to an object having such matter. In the case of the threshold, the alteration is an alteration of the wooden beam, not as the matter of something – the wooden beam does not undergo any intrinsic change – but as a thing. A threshold seems to be an example of an accidental compound, where the wooden beam is merely placed somewhere else, but, since it does not undergo an intrinsic change, it does not undergo generation in the proper sense and hence does not constitute a new substance.Footnote ¹⁶ Certainly, the generation of something does not occur anytime there is the alteration of some matter: not only must there be a relevant change in the matter, but the change must also occur in a specific way, such that the thing acquires a certain form. This form is, in turn, responsible for unification and identity, which will be discussed in Chapter 7. Here it will also become clear that the list in H 2 is longer than the list in Phys. 1.7 because, in the former passage, Aristotle is arguing against Democritus that the differentiae are more than just shape, position and arrangement and therefore includes unqualified and qualified comings-to-be.

The relevant change in and continuity of this matter are still not sufficient for something to come-to-be. One might well perform these alterations without bringing anything into existence. What the agent does to the matter sometimes leads to the generation of a new substance, but at other times it does not. It is not sufficient merely to put together materials; the materials must be put together in the right way, namely in such a way as to create a new substance. The right way is given by the form, which must also intervene and set constraints on the matter. In Met. Δ 6, 1016b11–16, Aristotle presents the interesting case of the shoe-making process: to produce a shoe, one cannot assemble the various parts randomly, but one has to put them together so as to realise the form of a shoe and therefore make a shoe come-to-be. The form of a shoe or a house sets constraints on the way in which the matter must be changed, that is, the manner in which the parts must be fused together into a single thing. Unlike the form of a house or a shoe, the form of a threshold does not dictate the way in which the matter must change such that the coming-to-be occurs.

Artefacts are generated by a change in a matter that pre-exists and is still present in the end result. The change in the matter leads to the existence of a new artefact if, and only if, it occurs in a specific way, such that the thing has a form of the same kind as the form in the mind of the artisan.Footnote ¹⁷ No unqualified coming-to-be can occur through the alterations of Phys. 1.7 if the change in the matter is not of such a kind that makes a substantial form realised. As we learn from Met. Z 7–9, this form is of the same kind as the form in the mind of the artisan, which is the starting point of a production (Met. Z 7, 1032a32–b1). Complicating the matter is the fact that this form is characterised in three ways, emphasising different aspects of the production of artefacts: (i) Formula and knowledge (ho en têi psuchêi logos kai hê epistêmê at 1032b5-6); (ii) Art (hê gar technê to eidos at 1034a24); (iii) Essence and primary substance and substance without matter (prôtê ousia at 1032b2 and legô de ousian aneu hulês to ti ên einai at 1032b14).

In relation to (i), the form in the mind of the artisan is not described in physical terms (i.e. as en-mattered and constituting a particular compound or as potentially the form of the object). Rather, the form is, in general, described as an epistemological notion that the artisan has in their soul. In fact, this notion is the fundamental starting point of the reasoning, which, in turn, is the first stage of production.Footnote ¹⁸ The artisan, or whoever possesses an art, has knowledge of what should be produced. The relevant change in the matter, which makes possible the generation of an artefact, must be performed in such a way as to realise the notion the artisan has in mind. Now, one might object that despite the importance of the form for driving the change, this framework also applies to qualified coming-to-be and to qualities, such as health – upon which Aristotle relies quite often. It therefore does not indicate that the object is a hylomorphic compound. In response to this, we ought to keep in mind that – just as a change in the matter does not mean that a hylomorphic compound comes-to-be in the absence of a form dictating this change – the presence of a form that fails to dictate or drive a relevant change in the matter does not bring into being a hylomorphic product either. In other words, the existence of the form in the mind of the artisan alone does not guarantee that a new substance comes into existence, for the form must be accompanied by a relevant change in the matter corresponding to the kinds illustrated.

As regards (ii), in what sense is the form in the mind identified with art? Is this the case only because possessing the art implies possessing knowledge? In Chapter 4, I shall argue that the identification of the form in the mind with art ultimately amounts to showing that the pre-existing form has an efficient causal role. In relation to (iii), the identification of the form in the mind with the form or the substance devoid of matter is, at first sight, trivial. Indeed, one could explain this identification by arguing that the artisan has in mind the account of an object, not the object itself. However, I shall argue that Aristotle identifies the form in the mind with the form without matter by referring to a form₁ in the mind and a form₂ in the object, whose relation to each other grounds the application of the synonymy principle to artefacts. While I address the form in the mind of the artisan qua art in Chapter 5, I shall deal with the form in the mind of the artisan qua substance without matter in this chapter (Section 4.3).

4.1.2 Per Se Unities

Let us now address and clarify a possible ambiguity: the substantial-change criterion shows that hylomorphic compounds of the sort mentioned in Phys. 1.7 are generated. However, this criterion does not entail that these objects are substances. It merely shows that what is subject to generation are things that would belong to the category of substance rather than other categories such as the quality of being musical. Phys. 1.7 presents hylomorphic compounds without engaging with questions about substantiality and without yet addressing to what extent the forms of the listed compounds are forms in the proper sense. An examination of further texts is needed in order to be able to comprehend what ‘powers’ such beings have. What we know is that these beings are subject to generation and have matter and form. In other words, having a substantial form does not coincide entirely with being a substance in the technical sense of substantiality. Other texts will help us to clarify whether there are hylomorphic compounds that are not substances. There are indeed hylomorphic compounds whose forms are, to different degrees, responsible for their unity and their ontological status.Footnote ¹⁹ The substantial-change criterion shows that artefacts undergo unqualified coming-to-be and therefore have forms which cannot be identified with accidents. Further evidence in support of this conclusion comes from Aristotle’s distinction between per se unities and accidental unities in Met. Δ 6.Footnote ²⁰ While per se unity is a property belonging to a single item, accidental unity is a property belonging to a plurality of items, which happen to constitute a compound that is unified to some extent (what we usually call ‘accidental compounds’ or kooky objects). Met. Δ 6 is specifically devoted to defining in general terms the distinction between being one accidentally and being one per se. Being one accidentally (kata sumbebêkos) is represented by the cases of ‘Coriscus and the musical’ and Coriscus-being-musical. In both cases, the musical is nothing but an accident belonging to a substance as a property. To be sure, Coriscus and the musical are not different people, but the unity they display is only accidental in that musical is not in the substance like man would be in Coriscus, but it belongs to Coriscus as a property or affection (ôs hexis ê pathos tês ousias). Per se unities are classified into three types. Unities are per se either because they are continuous or because their matter is one in species and indivisible into different species or again because their definition is one. Aristotle clearly conceives of artefacts as continuous items and hence as unities per se. What does he mean by ‘continuous’? An important definition of ‘continuous’ is found in Phys. 5.3, 227a11–12:Footnote ²¹ ‘I say that a thing is continuous when the boundaries at which each of the two parts are in contact become one and the same and, as the name itself signifies, contained in each other.’Footnote ²² Examples of continuity are a bundle that is made one by being tied together and pieces of wood made one by being glued together. For instance, instead of our having the boundary of one piece of wood and then another boundary belonging to another piece of wood, the glue itself becomes the single common boundary of the several pieces of wood: the result – presumably a casket – is a continuous item. Of course, things that are continuous by nature display a higher degree of unity than things that are one by art, but it nevertheless remains true that artefacts are continuous things.Footnote ²³ Aristotle does not conceive of artefacts as accidental unities. He does not take the casket to be like ‘Coriscus being musical’ (i.e. like ‘the pieces of wood being glued together’).

The discussion of ‘the one’ in Δ 6 places artefacts in the class of continuous items. Further evidence is provided by the discussion of wholeness in Δ 26, where Aristotle classifies technical objects as wholes by including them among beings that are continuous and limited. Continuity, as we shall see in Chapter 7, is presupposed by the existence of a whole. Again, items such as a house or a book are per se unities by being continuous beings, and they are opposed to the accidental unity of Socrates-being-pale. Other human-dependent objects are regarded just like Socrates-being-pale. Beings such as dinner and breakfast (see H 2) are indeed accidental unities. Breakfast, for instance, is conceived of as cucumber-being-served-in-the-morning. Aristotle’s notion of per se unity and unqualified coming-to-be draws a neat line between artefacts and other human-dependent objects that are accidental beings. Artefacts undergo unqualified coming-to-be and, in virtue of their being continuous, qualify as unities per se. A plurality is made into some new one thing. Items such as dinner and breakfast do not come-to-be; rather, their matter acquires a non-substantial property and they are therefore accidental beings. Of accidental things, Aristotle says, there is no generation and corruption. Accidental is ‘in name only’ or ‘only a sort of name’ (Met. E 2). Thus, artefacts are not accidental beings and do indeed undergo unqualified coming-to-be. What comes-to-be has a substantial form corresponding to an essence and a definition. By contrast, dinner and breakfast (but also the different winds,Footnote ²⁴ or again the lintel and the threshold) are accidental beings. In fact, these things do not undergo unqualified coming-to-be. One might call the cucumber served in the morning ‘breakfast’, but this is a mere name, for breakfast has not really come-to-be.Footnote ²⁵

4.1.3 Nature-Facts and Found-Objects: The Paperweight and the Strigil

Before moving to the other arguments in defense of artefacts’ hylomorphism, let us address one category of objects discussed in the contemporary debate, which Aristotle does not analyse but is able to assess. I am referring to the objects called ‘nature-facts’ and asking whether Aristotle would regard them as artefacts or not.Footnote ²⁶ Nature-facts are natural objects taken from their environment and used as tools or for different purposes.Footnote ²⁷ A clear example is that of a rock taken from its natural environment and used as a paperweight. Would Aristotle regard the paperweight as an artefact? For the reasons we have seen in the previous section, Aristotle would not regard the paperweight as a new item. According to Aristotle, every coming-to-be involves a material substrate that, although it survives the change, needs to change itself. In the case of a rock that is merely placed on the table, the matter does not change, and Aristotle would not regard this as the coming-to-be of a new artefact. In order to create a new artefact, the matter must change to some extent. That is, the underlying material from which the artefact comes-to-be needs to undergo a relevant change. Aristotle does not discuss the possibility of using something natural for another purpose, but he is aware of it, since he considers the case of something artificial used for a purpose different from the one with which it came-to-be. In this sense, Aristotle did not explicitly address nature-facts, but rather found-objects. The former are natural objects used for certain human purposes, whereas the latter are human-made object used for a purpose that is different from the one for which they came-to-be. In the Politics, Aristotle argues that what we possess has two uses: one is proper, the other improper (Pol. 1.9, 1257a10–14). For instance, the proper use of a shoe is to be worn, while the improper use of it is for exchange. The improper use of a shoe concerns the shoe as such, but it is not the use for which the shoe was initially made. In EE, the improper use of a coat or a shoe is described as an accidental mode of using the object. One might use a shoe for its proper purpose (i.e. wearing it), as well as selling it or to letting it out for money (EE 3.4, 1231b38–1232a4). In Top. 4.6, Aristotle refers to the strigil, a tool for cleansing the body by scraping off dirt, perspiration and oil. Of course, one might use the strigil for another purpose, such as for drawing off liquid. However, the natural correlative (ho pephuken) of such an object is, as Aristotle says, ‘that for which it would be used by the prudent man, acting as such, and by the science appropriate to that thing’ (145a26–7). It seems likely that the same reasoning would also apply to the rock, which pephuken is neither to keep the papers from blowing in the breeze nor to keep a sheet from moving while painting with a brush.Footnote ²⁸ Of course, if one removes a rock from its natural environment and smooths it in such a way that the material is changed with a view to its new function as a paperweight, one would thereby produce an artefact. The change of position (taking the rock from the ground and putting it on the papers) is not in itself a production unless the matter undergoes some change in its material constitution. The same principle applies to the example of the threshold in Met. H 2, 1042b19–20: for the threshold to be such it must acquire a certain position, but the wooden beam must have undergone some change (and not only in position) to be regarded as an artefact. The piece of wood found in the forest and simply placed under the door is still a piece of wood. The act of creation must involve some material change in the physical world. In the contemporary debate, the wooden beam that is not worked, but simply placed under the door, would be called a ‘nature-fact’, whereas the strigil used in a different way would qualify as a ‘found object’. The topic of found-objects is linked to the problem of user-intentions. According to Reference Kornblith, Margolis and LaurenceKornblith (2007), the intentions of later users of a certain object might override the original author’s intentions regarding the nature of the object. From the example of the strigil, it should be clear that Aristotle’s essentialism lies on the side of the author. Those who use the strigil for another purpose (no matter how numerous they are) neither override the author’s intentions nor supplement them, but rather, they are not behaving as prudent men. To return to nature-facts: intentions and teleology, although constituting a necessary and inescapable factor in artificial production, do not suffice for a natural thing to become a new artefact. For a new artefact to be created, the following condition needs to be fulfilled: the matter must undergo an intrinsic change consisting of more than a mere change of place.

4.2.1 The Eikeininon Rule

In GC 1.4, Aristotle presents the case of the round bronze becoming rough as an alteration. However, becoming rough seems rather a change of shape, which in Phys. 1.7 is introduced as an unqualified coming-to-be. In this regard, it is important to stress that change of shape as such can be the alteration of some matter without coinciding with the unqualified coming-to-be of something. In the case of GC 1.4, the sensible substrate (i.e. the bronze) is altered in its shape (i.e. from round to rough), but the bronze is still the subject of change. A different case is if, instead of speaking of bronze, we speak of a sphere. If a portion of rough bronze becomes round, this still qualifies as an alteration that the matter as subject undergoes; but if a portion of rough bronze is made round by an action that induces the form of a sphere, we need to identify the alteration of the matter with the unqualified coming-to-be of the sphere, which comes-to-be. That which takes on a certain shape, in the sense of a substantial form, ceases to be called by the same name as that out of which it came-to-be. If we can prove that artefacts cease to be called by the same name as their matter, we will have further evidence that they take on a substantial form (i.e. that they are hylomorphic compounds). In Phys. 7.3, Aristotle states that the alteration of something – for instance, the cooling of some matter – might be a necessary condition for something to be generated, without this meaning that alterations are unqualified comings-to-be or that generation corresponds to alteration. Rather, for something to undergo unqualified coming-to-be, an alteration needs to occur (or to be performed). For a statue to undergo unqualified coming-to-be (i.e. to come-to-be), an alteration of its bronze needs to occur. If this happens, the statue is no longer called ‘bronze’, but rather ‘brazen’. As Aristotle says, ‘we do not call the statue bronze or the candle wax or the couch wood, but we use a paronymous expression and call them brazen, waxen, and wooden respectively’ (245b10–12). When something undergoes unqualified coming-to-be, this thing is not merely its matter plus an acquired property (as in the case of qualified comings-to-be). Aristotle applies such rules to artefacts too, which are subject to unqualified coming-to-be.

This principle is introduced and further discussed in Met. Z 7 and Θ 7. Since both the bronze and the brazen statue are made of the same material (i.e. bronze), one might wonder whether the same rule also applies to more complex objects. In Z 7, Aristotle mentions simpler as well as more complex artefacts:Footnote ²⁹

To point out that the statue is braz-en and the house is ston-en is not only a way of indicating what the proper matter of a specific object is, but also and especially a way to demarcate what is substance and what is attribute. The ekeininon rule thus establishes that what comes-to-be unqualifiedly is never just matter, but a substance whose proximate matter is its attribute. The same rule is found in more detail in Θ 7, which is devoted to answering the question of when and under which conditions matter is potentially x. There seem to be discernible stages, preceding the stage at which the matter is potentially x. Roughly speaking,Footnote ³⁰ this last stage is reached when the artisan does not need to add, change or take away anything from the matter. As long as the matter still needs to be changed, it is not yet potentially the artefact. This claim is, of course, fairly vague, but it will be spelled out in the next section, where the link between Phys. 1.7 and Met. Θ 7 will emerge most clearly. For instance, as Aristotle demonstrates through an example, bronze is potentially the statue, but earth, despite being the matter of the statue, is not yet potentially the statue because it needs to change (i.e. change into bronze) (1049a17–18). Aristotle highlights an important point: the Greek language reflects and, hence, answers the metaphysical and temporal question.Footnote ³¹ Some matter y is potentially x when that x is y-en:Footnote ³²

To say that a box is wooden means that wood is the stage of matter to which we must refer if we are looking for the matter that is potentially a box. Although wood, in turn, comes-to-be out of earth, this does not make the box earthen (i.e. it does not make earth potentially a box). Only the most remote stage of fire is identified by Aristotle as not being a tode ti (i.e. something determinate; 1049a27). Aristotle is here working with quite a loose notion of tode ti, especially when compared with other passages in which the notion of tode ti is used more strictly. For instance, in Met. Z 3, Aristotle excludes matter as a candidate for being substance precisely because it is not something determinate, a ‘this something’, but is further differentiable. Here, by contrast, there is a less strict notion of tode ti, according to which even wood itself (i.e. the matter (of the box)) can be a tode ti relative to earth. Relative to earth, wood is a tode ti, while relative to the box, it is matter and attribute. On a stricter account of tode ti-ness, earth would not have any claim whatsoever to be a tode ti.Footnote ³³ Certain substances have stronger claim than others to be a tode ti and not to be the attribute of something else. For instance, Socrates is fleshy and bony, but there is nothing Socrates-en.

In general, we have to identify what the artefact in question is and, in order to understand what stage of matter is potentially the artefact, we must identify the stage at which the matter is ready to be turned into a table (i.e. the stage at which nothing needs to be added, taken away or changed with respect to the matter). In the case of a boxy table, the wood is not yet potentially the table because it needs to first be changed into several boxes. The several boxes are themselves the proximate matter of the table. The example of the box-y table is meant to show that, on this loose notion of tode ti, what counts as tode ti, as well as proximate matter, is defined in relation to the particular stage that we are focusing on. If additional stages are added, this means shifting the tode ti and the corresponding attribute. Matter must, in fact, play an explanatory role: in order to give the most accurate explanation of a substance, its proximate matter must be mentioned, because this stage involves fewer objects. Mentioning earth would not explain as much as mentioning wood, when it comes to describing a (wooden) statue. While the ekeininon rule does fit better with single-material objects, whose proximate matter is a single material, it also holds for more complex objects. It states that if something genuinely comes-to-be, this thing is not reducible to its matter; and indeed, one must use a paronymous expression in speaking of it. Artefacts are subject to this rule. Let us now examine it in detail in order to help understand how the unqualified coming-to-be-criterion and the ekeininon rule are connected.

4.2.2 Actuality-Inducing Action as the Relevant Change in Matter

Met. Θ 7 illustrates the conditions under which something (i.e. matter) is potentially F (i.e. an object). The criterion for establishing the appropriate matter is further spelled out using examples of artificial objects (i.e. health and a house). The first example runs as follows:

The passage specifically deals with things that are by thought (apo dianoias),Footnote ³⁴ namely things brought about by rational capacities. The focus is on the questions under what conditions and when a patient is potentially healed:

• The patient is potentially healed if, provided that the doctor wills it and nothing external hinders it, they will become healthy.

Which in turn means:

• The patient is internally ready to be healed if, provided that the doctor wills it and nothing external hinders, they will become healthy.

On the reading of Reference BeereBeere (2009), the criterion for potentiality means that if the doctor wills it and nothing external to the matter (which also means external to the doctor and the process of healing) hinders it, then the patient will become healthy by themselves. That is, there is nothing more that the patient needs in order to become healthy, provided that the doctor is willing to heal them and there are no external hindrances. Of course, the agent (i.e. the doctor) must be willing (boulêthentos) to bring about the change. The agent is elsewhere said to act based on a desire (orexis) in Θ 5, or a choice (prohairesis) in Δ 5.Footnote ³⁵ Aristotle does not spell out the nature of external hindrances, but they potentially include anything external that makes the production in question impossible, such as the unavailability of tools or the absence of light.Footnote ³⁶ The absence of external hindrances and the presence of the artisan’s will are not themselves conditions for some matter to be potentially F, but rather pre-conditions that, when coupled with the absence of internal hindrances, suffice for the matter to be potentially F.Footnote ³⁷ If, although the pre-conditions are fulfilled, the patient does not, in fact, become healthy, this means that the patient is not yet potentially healed. Four different ways of interpreting this last statement have been proposed: (i) the patient is simply not the type of thing that can, in principle, be made healthy (e.g. a stone); (ii) the patient is in such a state that health cannot be restored; (iii) the patient is, in principle, curable, but the treatment required would kill them because of other conditions (e.g. co-morbid conditions); and (iv) the patient is curable, but not in their current state (e.g. they are underweight). The last option is the most satisfactory, for the proximate matter is matter that is already potentially F, and matter that is not potentially F is not proximate matter yet.

Aristotle illustrates this using the example of some matter being potentially a house (no artisan is mentioned here), dropping the pre-conditions and focusing only on the real condition:Footnote ³⁸

• A certain matter is potentially a house if, provided that the housebuilder wills it and that there are no external hindrances, the matter will turn into a house.

Which, in turn, means (given that he drops the pre-conditions):

• A certain matter is internally ready to be a house and, hence, it will turn into a house, if there is nothing that must be added, taken away or changed in order for it to turn into a house.Footnote ³⁹

Something in the matter could act as a hindrance when it is not yet ready to be turned into the object in question. This is related to the fact that in artificial production the matter is not given in the same way as it is in nature.Footnote ⁴⁰ If the matter is not potentially a house, there is something in the matter that prevents the goal from being reached. How is this possible? I follow Michael of Ephesus in taking the claim that nothing has to be added, taken away or changed as a specification of the absence of internal hindrances in the matter. Beere, by contrast, identifies two separate conditions pertaining to the patient: in the first case, the matter is defective, in the sense in which bricks used for building that turn out to be broken are defective; in the second case, the matter simply has not yet reached the appropriate stage. However, matter that is irremediably broken is like the stone that cannot be healed. The problem with the stone is not so much that it is not yet potentially healed, but that it cannot in principle be healed. Michael of Ephesus considers only one complex condition that is composed of two quantitative conditions and one qualitative condition: nothing needs to be added if the artisan has a sufficient amount of bricks and stones at their disposal; nothing needs to be taken away if there are no superfluous bricks or stones; finally, nothing needs to be changed if the artisan does not have unworked materials that require sawing or grinding down.

However, the passage cannot be wholly explained unless we answer the following question: what is the difference between adding, taking away and changing, on the one hand, and the actual production of an artefact, on the other? As we have seen, the generation of artificial items is described as something similar to these processes. The question arises from Aristotle’s description of artificial productions as processes, which seem to be similar to the change in matter. As we have seen, in Phys. 1.7, 190b5–15, Aristotle illustrates unqualified coming-to-be with the following examples: the statue comes-to-be through a change in the shape of the matter; the Hermes comes-to-be through a process of subtraction carried out on the stones; the house comes into existence through some alteration – and here it is specified that a house is one of those things that change with respect to their matter. Why should we take the third condition to be a condition for some matter to be potentially F rather than a condition for some matter to be actually F? The aim of Met. Θ 7 is not to cast light on this problem specifically: the chapter rather investigates the difference between matter that is potentially F and matter that has a claim to be matter but cannot be matter in the strict sense. However, we can tackle the question by focusing on an example provided both in Met. Θ 7 and in Phys. 1.7. Let us consider the case of the statue of Hermes. Obviously, a statue comes into existence out of a block of material. The process through which the shape of Hermes emerges is subtraction. At what moment and under what conditions is the block of matter potentially the statue of Hermes and at what point is it already Hermes? Aristotle’s view in Θ 7 is that a block of material is potentially Hermes when there is nothing more to be added to that material (e.g. if the block is big enough) or when there is only the bronze the artisan needs and no other superfluous materials – and the bronze is already bronze, meaning that there is no need to change copper and tin into bronze. The material the artisan has at their disposal at this stage is potentially the statue of Hermes, but it does not actually become the statue until the sculptor has altered the shape of that block of material. At this stage, the bronze can serve as matter of a statue. By contrast, the bronze is actually the statue when, strictly speaking, there is no longer a lump of bronze, but rather the statue. When the form is applied to the matter,Footnote ⁴¹ the product comes-to-be and the potential matter becomes the thing itself. Imagine, for example, an artisan working some wood. They remove a chunk of wood from the larger block, shape it and sand it down to the point where they have a wooden beam: this is the matter that is potentially F. The wooden beam, in other words, can serve as matter for the product the artisan has in mind: for instance, a threshold.Footnote ⁴² The wooden beam is actually the threshold when it is placed in the right position. Once the wooden beam is placed at the bottom of the door, there is no longer potential matter or a wooden beam, but simply a threshold. Of course, in a way, there is still a wooden beam (it has just been placed beneath the door), but when we ask ‘what is that thing?’ the correct answer is ‘a threshold’, rather than ‘a wooden beam’. The occurrence of the form is what draws the line between the proximate matter and the coming-to-be of an object. The example of the statue of Hermes is trickier because the subtraction (e.g. the chiselling) can constitute both the process by which the sculptor, by removing material, makes it ready (and, hence, potentially F), and the process by which the actual statue of Hermes, through shaping, comes into existence (the matter is made actually F). The artisan might both cut out the block of stone at the quarry and chisel the block at their studio. As for the action of chiselling itself, why does the same act sometimes merely prepare the matter and other times lead to the production of a new object? As we have seen, what distinguishes the proximate matter from the thing itself is the form. Supposing that the statue of Hermes is bronze (matter) being shaped in a Hermes-like manner (form), the subtraction by which the bronze is shaped in this way should rather to be counted as a coming-to-be. By contrast, the preceding subtractions are rather the stages through which the matter is made into a proximate matter. The difference between the two acts of chiselling is that when the Hermes comes-to-be, the artisan chisels in such a way as to produce the object (i.e. in such a way as to obtain one specific shape rather than another; e.g. Discobolus). Although the work on the material and the production of the statue seem to constitute a single, continuous process, there are, in fact, two processes: the chiselling that makes the material ready and the chiselling that produces the statue of Hermes. To clarify this important point, it might be helpful to consider an example in which the two processes are more easily distinguishable. Let us consider anew the production of a house. There are two processes involved: the one consists in making the material apt for housebuilding; the second is the actual process of housebuilding. The first process concerns the matter about which Θ 7 speaks: this matter₁, once it has been made ready, is the potential house. The second process concerns a matter₂ that already constitutes the house, because it is either the house itself or (the stage before) a part of the house. This point is of significant interest, because it sheds light on the stage at which the matter is potentially the product without there being the product yet.

According to Figure 4.1, the matter that is potentially the house is matter₁ in its last stage, namely, in this case, bricks. Clay is a too remote a matter, whereas the foundations are already part of the production of the house. The bottom-up approach pursued by Frede seems to be consistent with the text. According to Frede, the matter that is potentially the house is to be identified with the bricks, when there is only ‘a specifiable single change or process’ between the bricks and the house.Footnote ⁴³ The analysis that has been conducted so far is precisely meant to specify what this single change or process is supposed to be. The comparison with the simple coming-to-be mentioned in the Physics clarifies that what draws the line between a matter that is potentially F and a matter that is actually F is not a single kind of change or process, but a single action that is actuality/form-inducing. Charles (2010b) suggests three ways of interpreting the boundary between a matter that is potentially F and a matter that is actually F. A first possibility is to identify the matter that is potentially F with a matter that can be turned immediately into a house (i.e. when all of the bricks but the last one are in place).Footnote ⁴⁴ In the light of the considerations we have raised, however, a house in which only one brick is missing would still count, to some extent, as a house (i.e. as matter that is actually F) insofar as there are already parts of the house.Footnote ⁴⁵ A second possibility is to identify the matter that is potentially F with the point at which it can be handed over to the builder and not before. However, if the builder both makes the material ready and builds the house, this criterion is vague. The third option suggested by Charles is the most promising and seems to be in agreement with our reading: ‘the matter is potentially a house at that point at which no further material change is required in it for it to be ready to be turned into a house by an actuality-inducing agent and not before’. However, the top-down approach pursued by Charles leads him to take the matter of a house in Θ 7 to be the foundations. Since he defines the matter that is potentially the house as the matter that is intelligible ‘by reference to the relevant goal’, he should mention ‘foundations’ instead of ‘bricks’. Bricks and stones might not be intelligible with reference to the relevant goal, whereas the foundations are ultimately the stage at which the goal is, in fact, most relevant. The interpretation favoured by Charles is the same one that I propose, but, since Θ 7 employs a bottom-up approach, I believe that to adopt a top-down approach is misleading. The actuality/form-inducing agent has already intervened at the stage of the foundations. The matter that is potentially F and not actually F is the stage immediately before the agent induces the form. However, the third option also comes close to the second option, insofar as the third option focuses on the agent, whereas the second option differs only in that it articulates a distinction concerning matter. The second option was found to be unconvincing because of the possible identity between the artisan who makes the material ready and the artisan who builds the house. However, even if the same artisan is in charge of both processes, the matter can be said to be ready when it does not require any further change before being transformed into a synchronic matter.Footnote ⁴⁶ The conditions for the potentiality of the matter are then extended to all things that have an external principle (1049a12), as opposed to those whose principle is internal (1049a13). Given the relationship between having an external principle and being an artefact, Aristotle seems to be dealing first with artificial cases (health, houses) and then extending his reasoning to encompass the broader range of things that have an external principle (i.e. that is not necessarily identified with art).Footnote ⁴⁷

Figure 4.1 Difference between a matter that is potentially the object and a matter that is part of the object

Met. Θ 7 connects with Phys. 1.7 in an important way. According to Met. Θ 7, potential matter will turn into a given object if nothing prevents it and the artisan wills it. I contend that the passage from Phys. 1.7 concerns the actuality-inducing step described in Met. Θ 7. Phys. 1.7 suggests that the relevant change that the matter must undergo for something to come-to-be just is the coming-to-be of the final product. Met. Θ 7 speaks about the relevant change in the matter as an actuality-inducing action by means of which the matter that is potentially F becomes actually F. The matter is potentially a house at the point at which no further material change is required in it for it to be ready to be turned into an actual house by an actuality-inducing agent or rather by the last change performed by the agent (as Frede says: ‘one specifiable single change’). The relevant change in Phys. 1.7 is the single last actuality-inducing change. This change turns the bricks into foundations by way of addition (i.e. by stacking them on top of each other).Footnote ⁴⁸ This change occurs if the artisan wills it: the mention of the artisan’s desire (Θ 7) or choice (Δ 1) to produce stresses that the actuality-inducing action is indeed taking place. In conclusion, the ekeininon rule is fully applied to artefacts and shows that artefacts are not reducible to their matter, but are rather hylomorphic compounds.

4.3.1 The Synonymy Principle Applied to Artefacts

In Chapters 7 and 8 of Met. Z, the synonymy principle is introduced and exemplified with reference to the case of human beings (Z 7, 1032a24–5 and Z 8, 1033b29–32). Although natural generation is compared with artificial production in these chapters, the reader is not given much information about the manner in which the synonymy principle is able to influence the case of artefacts until the following chapter. In Met. Z 9, Aristotle applies the synonymy principle to the coming-to-be of artefacts in two ways: (i) by considering artificial production in quite general terms (1034a21–5); and (ii) by comparing it to coming-to-be from a seed (1034a33–b1). At the present stage, I shall concentrate on the first application of the synonymy principle, which shows that there is a synonymous relationship between the maker and the object, such that they have the same kind of form, because the form in the object is the same as the form in the mind of the artisan. I will address the second application of the synonymy principle in Section 4.3.3, which will show that there is a form of the object in potentiality.

Let us begin with the first passage, which is introduced after Aristotle affirms that some items, such as health, can come about both by art and by spontaneity because the matter involved in the process is such that it can move by itself in the way required. If the matter cannot move by itself so as to make, for instance, a house, the agency of something else is needed. Since stones cannot move in such a way as to create a house, a further agent is needed for a house to come-to-be. At this point, Aristotle states that all things that can come-to-be both by art and by spontaneity come-to-be out of something synonymous:Footnote ⁵⁵

How many cases are on the table and under which of the headings does artificial coming-to-be fall? All of the things that can come-to-be either by art or by spontaneity (panta), such as health, display the synonymy principle as (i) a natural coming-to-be (hôsper ta phusei) does. In the case of health, it can come-to-be out of a synonymous part (ii) when it comes-to-be by art, hence the example of the house in the mind of the artisan, for this is a more straightforward instance of something that comes-to-be only by art. If health comes-to-be spontaneously, by contrast, it comes-to-be out of a part containing a part (iii). Aristotle argues that the synonymy principle also works in the case of spontaneous generations. In such a case, the synonymy seems to be between a part₁ containing some part₂ of the product.Footnote ⁵⁸

There are two cases on the table, and the case of exclusive artificial coming-to-be corresponds to the coming-to-be out of a synonymous part. The house comes into existence out of something that is synonymous with the house and that is a part of it.Footnote ⁵⁹ As already mentioned, the two synonymous items in a natural generation are the generating and the generated compound insofar as they are the same in form. In artificial production, the two synonymous items are a part of the generating compound and the product. The mind of the artisan is treated as part of the artisan themselves.Footnote ⁶⁰ That is, it is taken as part in relation to the whole-artisan (or to what the artisan ultimately is, namely their soul) rather than to the whole-artefact. Aristotle immediately goes on to provide a pertinent example: a house comes-to-be out of a house, but out of a house qua being in the mind of the artisan (hêi hupo nou).Footnote ⁶¹ The mind of the artisan does not correspond to the artisan themselves as a whole, but constitutes only a part of the artisan.Footnote ⁶² This is also the reason for which the synonymy principle is not obviously applicable in the case of artificial production, but only applies in a certain sense (tropon tina). The house does not generate a house; rather the house, insofar as it is in the mind of the artisan (i.e. in a part of the artisan), can be said to generate the house. The identification of technê with eidos does not mean that the form in the mind of the artisan is part of the product (i.e. its formal part). We have previously seen that the form in the mind of the artisan is identified with knowledge, art and the form of the object.Footnote ⁶³ It is now possible to understand the identification of the form in the mind (i.e. technê) with eidos (hê gar technê to eidos). This identification explains the level at which there is identity (i.e. the reason for which the synonymy occurs): the form in the mind of the artisan (technê) is identified with the form of the artefact produced in order to show the relationship of synonymity between the artisan and the product. Significantly, this is not the first time that Aristotle identifies the art with the form of the object: in Z 7, 1032b13–14, medicine and the art of housebuilding are respectively identified with the form of health and with the form of the house (hê gar iatrikê esti kai hê oikodomikê to eidos tês hugieias). The artisan is synonymous with the outcome insofar as they have the form in the mind. Since the form in the mind is the cause of the artisan being synonymous, the form has primacy over the artisan. This state of affairs, however, raises the problem of understanding the way in which the form in the mind is in actuality. While it is intuitive to say that the artisan is in actuality, it seems less intuitive to say that the form in their mind is in actuality. In fact, a common view is that in artificial production the form is first in potentiality in the mind of the artisan and then becomes actualised in the product. In what follows, I shall argue first that – within the framework of the synonymy principle – the form in the mind of the artisan is in actuality (Section 4.3.2); and second that the form in potentiality is rather the one in the object (Section 4.3.3).

4.3.2 The Form in the Mind of the Artisan as the Form of the Object in Thought and as in Actuality

Let us distinguish between form₁ (i.e. the form in the mind of the artisan) and form₂ (i.e. the form of the object). Form₁ is like form₂ and this grounds the synonymy relation between the artisan and the product as well as Aristotle’s identification of technê (=form₁) with eidos (=form₂). For the case of artefacts to be like the case of natural substances and not reducible to that of accidents, form₁ must be in actuality. When Aristotle affirms that ‘it is a this; but this is present potentially, and that is already within his [= the artisan’s] power’ (Z 7, 1032b20–1), he is often interpreted as saying that the form in the mind of the artisan is in potentiality. Against this interpretation, I shall show here that there is a sense in which form₁ is in actuality. Indeed, form₁ just is form₂ insofar as it is thought. In the next section, I argue that what is in potentiality is not form_1, but form₂.

The synonymy relation means that form₁ and form₂ are the same in kind, but this does not necessarily mean that they are indistinguishable in all respects. In the case of living beings, the form of the father in actuality is of the same kind as – but distinct from – the form of the offspring, being first in potentiality in the semen and later in actuality. In the case of artefacts, the form in the mind of the artisan is in actuality as an object of thought. The form in the object has a different mode of being. Form₁ in the father and form₂ in the offspring are simultaneously of the same kind and distinct from each other. Form₁ in the artisan and form₂ in the artefact are of the same kind precisely because the former is the latter insofar as it is thought. Form₂ is even more real, despite a prima facie impression that the only true form is the one in the mind of the artisan and that artefacts lack forms, as some say. Met. Λ confirms that, strictly speaking, there is only one form, but that this form has two modes of being: the form in the object and this same form as it is thought in the mind of the artisan. In Λ 9, Aristotle mentions productive knowledge in order to highlight a specific characteristic of the relation between thinking and the object that is thought:

The form in the mind is the form of the object insofar as it is thought without the matter. The distinction between form₁ and form₂ is extremely important. Form₁ and form₂ are two different modes of being of the same form – of which form₂ is ultimately more real – but not in the sense that one is the form in potentiality, while the other is the form in actuality. Two problems arise from this.

The first problem is that form₁ is identified with essence (1032b2), a notion (e.g. 1032b5) and knowledge (1032b5–6). This suggests that the form in the mind of the artisan is present as a universal. Therefore, one might reject the claim that the synonymy principle applies to artefacts as hylomorphic compounds, because form₁ – thus described – cannot exist in actuality, since universals are not in actuality. Now, it is crucial to bear in mind that form₁ is also described as art. This identification, as I shall show in more detail in Chapter 5, signifies that form₁ is an efficient cause. While form₂ of a house is the inherent and simultaneously existing cause of the house, form₁ can be described as an external, pre-existing efficient cause. Certainly, form₁ is an efficient cause as a result of its being possessed by an artisan. In the same way, however, a universal notion, such as knowledge or the definition of a given object, is an efficient cause as a result of being possessed by the artisan. And it is precisely this power that allows a universal to be in actuality. After all, a principle of motion is always and necessarily in actuality. All thought objects are actual in the act of thinking: the form of a house is active in the mind of the artisan qua intelligible.

The second problem is the following. Describing the form in the mind as causally and existentially prior to the form in the object and regarding the first as the second insofar as it is thought gives rise to a difficulty: how can the form in the mind be the form of the object insofar as it is thought if the object and its form is not yet there? The form the artisan has in mind is like the form in the object, but it is not identical to it. The form the artisan has in mind is supposedly the form they have come to acquire through experience with other objects of the same kind. Aristotle affirms that the doctor acquires the account of health – and the housebuilder the notion of house – through reason and from sense-perception (PA 1.1, 639b16–19). After all, we have seen while discussing the notion of technê, that the possession of technê implies both experience and understanding.

4.3.3 The Form in the Object in Potentiality: The Artisans’ Tools

To understand what Aristotle means by ‘it is a this; but this is present potentially, and that is already within his [= the artisan’s] power’ (Z 7, 1032b20–1), let us focus on the form in the object, whose presence is further suggested by the second comparison between natural and artificial coming-to-be, drawn in Z 9, 1034a33–b1. The form in the father’s semen is compared to the form in the artisan’s tools in that it represents the stage at which form₂ is potentially present. The very fact that there is a potential form₂ is additional evidence that the product acquires an inherent form.

The production of artefacts is not compared with the coming-to-be of a man out of a man, but to the coming-to-be of the offspring out of the semen. It is not clear, however, how exactly the comparison is supposed to work. In fact, one might say that the two cases are similar in the sense that is stated in the parenthetical remark: there is a potential form, and that from which the form is, is synonymous with the product. But in artificial production what is it that has the form potentially?

The first candidate is the artisan, since they are certainly synonymous with the product insofar as they have the form in their mind. As we said in the previous section, this form is not potential; if it were, this condition would conflict with the claim that art is causally prior and sufficient to explain the coming-to-be of artefacts. Indeed, Aristotle does not provide any explanation for the potentiality of the form in the mind of the artisan and, above all, he never repeats this point elsewhere. As all thought objects are actual in the act of thinking, the form of the house in the mind is actual qua object of thought, qua intelligible. Let us imagine that God has the same forms we keep talking about in mind: it would be extremely odd if such forms in the mind were present in potentiality. The form in the mind, precisely because it is active in the mind of the artisan by being thought and thus serves as principle of motion,Footnote ⁶⁴ cannot be potential.

The second candidate for what possesses the form of the artefact potentially is the matter, because if anything is potentially the produced house, it would be bricks and stones rather than the form in the mind. However, the semen is potentially the offspring in a different way than the body or the menstrual fluid (whatever one takes to be the matter of a living being) is potentially the living being. The semen potentially has the form of the offspring without being matter.

The third candidate is represented by the tools. Aristotle compares the semen both to art and to the tools employed in artisanal production. Which of the two candidates corresponds to the semen in that it possesses the form potentially? In GA 1.22, 730b8–32 the semen is compared to art not because it has the form potentially, but rather because both are principles that do not become part of the product. The housebuilding art is not a part of the house just as the semen is not a part of the offspring. In the same chapter, Aristotle compares the semen to an artisan’s tool in that the motion generating the product is present in both. The motion of the art is present in the tools employed by the artisan to the same extent that the motion of nature is present in the semen. Aristotle compares the male nature with the user of a tool, with the user corresponding to the art itself. The tool, by contrast, is compared with the semen:

The semen is said to possess the movement of nature in actuality. On the face of it, one might think this contradicts the idea that the semen has the form in potentiality. Particularly in the biological works, the semen is presented as being equipped with natural motions: such motions are presumably expressions of the father’s actual form. If the comparison between the semen and the tools also concerns their respective movements, Aristotle might be expressing the thought that the tools must carry the movement of art in a production. The tools have the form₁ in actuality by being the proximate efficient cause that is moving the materials. At the same time, the semen and the tools possess the form₂ in potentiality with respect to the product: the semen is not yet the offspring, but rather has the potentiality for the offspring; the tools are not yet the product, but rather represent the extent to which the product is in potentiality.Footnote ⁶⁵ Only once the artisan is present and fully equipped can we say that the matter is potentially the outcome. It follows that when we speak of a potential form in the semen and in the tools, we are indicating a second form, the one possessed by the product, albeit only in potentiality. The tools are similar to the semen in that, through them, form₂ is potentially realised. This relation does not go beyond a mere similarity, since the semen is equipped with motions that make the form in potentiality, whereas the activity of the tools merely represents the stage at which the matter can be said to be potentially the product. In this sense, Aristotle states: ‘it is a this; but this is present potentially, and that is already within his [= the artisan’s] power’ (Z 7, 1032b20–1). Once again, mere similarity is the best we can achieve, since the semen (as such) is already equipped with motions that the father merely triggers, whereas the tools are equipped with actual movements due to an external cause (i.e. movements provided and structured by the art in the mind of the artisan):

The comparison between the roles of the semen and the tools, based on the potentiality of form₂, turns out to solve the problem raised in the parenthetical remark. If the way in which the semen has the form in potentiality is not by possessing it, but rather by being able to produce the form on the basis of its natural motions, then this remark could also apply to the case of artefacts. If the artisan corresponds to the father and the tools correspond to the semen, then surely there is a sense in which the tools have the form potentially and that from which the tools are (i.e. the artisan) is synonymous with the product.Footnote ⁶⁶

Although I have attempted to understand the extent to which the semen is productive in the same way as art, one might still ask why, in Z 9, 1034a33–b1, Aristotle refers to the semen and not to the man. One possible explanation is that Aristotle wishes to clarify the distinction between spontaneous and non-spontaneous generation by pointing to the stage at which the matter, in spontaneous generation, moves by its own agency in such a way as to produce the product in question. This stage is, in fact, that of the movement conferred by the semen.Footnote ⁶⁷ One could also present the question another way. Notoriously, the synonymy principle is predominantly illustrated by means of the example of a man generating a man. However, in the first passage of Z 9, Aristotle does not compare artificial production with the generation of a man out of a man, but rather artificial and natural coming-to-be. The mention of the semen in the second passage of Z 9 is perhaps intended to demarcate a specific case within the class of natural generations. Not all natural generations involve coming-to-be from semen. As we learn from GA 1.22, not every male emits semen and the male’s nature, in those that emit seed, uses the seed as a tool. The mention of the semen instead of nature in general is meant to point to a narrower comparison between artificial and natural production. The artisan adopts tools through which the form is potentially realised to the same extent that the father’s semen functions as a tool that makes the form in potentiality possible.

The second application of the synonymy principle to artefacts is further evidence that artefacts have forms, for the tools represent the stage in which those forms inherent in the artificial objects are potential. However, in the analysis of the ekeininon rule in the previous section, I argued that the proximate matter immediately prior to the actuality-inducing action is potentially the object. Thus, the issue is the following: what is it that is potentially the object? Is it the matter or the semen? On my interpretation, both the matter and the tools are potentially, but in two different meanings of ‘potentially’.Footnote ⁶⁸ The former meaning applies when the matter is potentially x (i.e. when matter is one actuality-inducing action away from being the object). The latter applies when the pre-condition under which the matter is potentially F obtains. Some matter is potentially a house iff, provided that the housebuilder wills it and there are no external hindrances, the matter will turn into a house. In other words, the presence of tools represents the pre-condition in which there are no external hindrances.