Part III
Aristotle’s Elite Performers
In the Olympic Games, it is not the finest and the strongest who are crowned victor, but those who compete: for it is from this group that winners come. The same is true in life.
—Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 1.8, 1099a3–6
Aristotle studied at Plato’s Academy and went on to establish his own school in another gym, the Lyceum. His followers are known as the Peripatetics, thanks to their habit of discussing ideas while walking around. Aristotle was also a Greek speaker, working in the shadow of Socrates and Plato, so when he turned to spelling out the good life, he used terms and ideas that had been forged in the palaistra. Like these earlier figures, Aristotle understood flourishing (eudaimonia) to be the goal of human life, virtue (aretē) to be central to that flourishing, and education to be vital for pursuing both. He even followed his teachers in focusing on bravery, moderation, justice, wisdom, and friendship as the core of this virtue theory.
Aristotle opens Nicomachean Ethics (NE) with a sketch of happiness as a life of excellent activity, using elite performers—in athletics, music, and intellectual pursuits—as models, and then spends the rest of NE’s ten books filling out the details of this opening account.1 Athletic concepts are scattered throughout. Some of these have been widely acknowledged, such as his account of character formation based on regimens of strength conditioning (chapter 12). Others have been passed over without comment, such as the competitive aspect of the term “excellence” (aretē) in both English and Greek (chapter 11). Scholars have discussed other terms, such as “ornament” (kosmos), at length without acknowledging their athletic connotation as relevant to NE(chapter 13). The athletic resonances of kalon are further obscured for English readers, given the term is often translated as “noble” or “fine” rather than “beautiful.”2 Meanwhile, scholars have outright rejected Aristotle’s claim that friends will compete and strive to outperform each other in performing virtuous acts (chapter 16).
The problem is not merely that current scholarship has some gaps when it comes to Aristotle’s use of athletic concepts. Rather, by suppressing some and ignoring others, current scholarship has made it impossible to see how these scattered pieces fit together in a single, unified system that binds NE into a coherent project and offers fresh perspectives on standing debates—for instance, whether human happiness consists in “becoming immortal” through the pursuit of many valuable activities or a single most valuable activity (chapter 17). As a first step in remedying this situation, I will use this introduction to lay out relevant aspects of Greek athletic culture that would have been common knowledge among Aristotle’s original readers.
Herakles and the Olympic Games
Olympia, along with Delphi, Nemea, and Isthmia, was host of one of the stephanic games, at which victors were crowned with a wreath (stephanos). The Pythian Games at Delphi honored Apollo and awarded crowns woven from his sacred tree, the laurel. The Olympic Games honored Zeus and used crowns of olive branches. These were awarded in the temple of Zeus, as athletes stood in front of a forty-one-foot, gold-and-ivory statue of Zeus, who was himself wearing an olive crown and holding his eagle staff in one hand and the goddess Nikē (Victory) in the other. The parallel headgear was no accident: Greek gods were seen as ideals of perfection to aspire to. A winner in the Olympic Games came as close to this ideal as a mortal could manage. This ideology was communicated through both art and literature.
The exterior of Zeus’s temple provided context for the crowning ceremony. The eastern pediment, situated in the triangular space under the temple’s roofline, tells the mythical story of the local king, Oinomaos, who offered his daughter’s hand in marriage to anyone who could beat him in chariot racing. Losers were executed on the spot. One contestant, Pelops, finally won by switching the linchpin in Oinomaos’s chariot for one made of wax. Pelops won the girl, Hippodamaia, and became king of the southern region of the Greek mainland, whose name incorporates his: the Peloponnesus. The story of Pelops served as the archetype for the chariot races at the Olympic Games. The western pediment of the temple of Zeus depicts a local tribe, the Lapiths, who invited their centaur neighbors to a wedding. The centaurs, being only half human, got drunk and start abducting Lapith women. Fighting ensued. This scene, also prominently depicted on the Parthenon, in Athens, provides an allegory for the triumph of fully human civilization (Greeks) over half-human barbarism (non-Greeks). The Olympic Games were crucial to this self-understanding, as every four years Greek city-states, which were often at war with one another, would declare a sacred truce and gather in Olympia for an event so revered that the Greeks used the names of its victors as a way of telling time.3
Situated below the two pediments were groups of six sculptural scenes, called metopes, that depicted the twelve labors of Herakles. As the son of Zeus and the mortal woman Alkmene, Herakles roused the envy of Zeus’s wife, Hera, and was sentenced to perform a series of labors (athla, ponoi) for the king Eurystheus.4 These labors include slaying and capturing monsters, fetching objects, holding up the sky, and cleaning stables by diverting the course of a river. Like the Lapiths, who overcame the half-human, half-civilized centaurs, Herakles’s battles with monsters embody a triumph of enlightened civilization over the forces of chaos and barbarism. As a reward for his labors, Herakles ascended to Mount Olympus upon his death, where he became a god and took Hēbē (Youth) as his immortal wife.
According to myth, Herakles also founded the Olympic Games. His heroic labors (athla) were replaced by competitions (agōnes) in pentathlon, wrestling, boxing, and chariot racing, for which victors earned rewards (athla) in the form of olive crowns (stephanoi). As Herakles became immortal through his labors, athletes (people who compete for athla) sought to embody the divine through competition. This, however, was not a matter of merely brute force. Just as Herakles outsmarted various opponents, and Pelops won Hippodamia through cunning, Olympic competitions required rigorous training, refined technique, and thinking on one’s feet.5
These connections between Olympian artwork and Aristotelian ethics are made explicit in the victory odes of the poet Pindar. Born half a century before Socrates, Pindar weaves together many of the key terms that Socrates would come to question. Pindar’s Odes, therefore, help us see the default assumptions NE’s original readers would have made regarding ideas such as aretē, kalon, athlon, stephanos, and eudaimonia. Aristotle tells us that virtues aim at the kalon, for which Pindar gives us Olympic victory as a model. This slices through the disagreement over whether to translate kalon as “noble” or “beautiful” by presenting certain activities as obviously worthy of pursuit simply because they are awesome.
Pindar also helps us understand a term that readers of NE have for the most part gotten backward: kosmos. The basic meaning is “order,” such as the way a general would put troops in order.6 In Aristotle’s hands, this sense of the word comes to mean “universe” or “cosmos” (in the English sense).7 Yet there are another two meanings built on this one. One has to do with imposing order on something from outside through clothes, makeup, or other adornments. This is the root of our term cosmetics. This meaning shows up in Hesiod’s Theogony 586–588 and Works and Days 72–76 as the poet describes the creation of Pandora, whose name means “All-Gift,” since she was adorned by various goddesses and made into a trap for mankind. A kosmos in this sense conceals one’s true nature in a deceptive way. Pindar, by contrast, uses kosmos in the Odes to refer to victory crowns or to the victory ode itself.8 In this sense, a kosmos draws attention to inner virtue that has been made manifest through competition. While a kosmos, in the Pandora sense, conceals one’s true nature by covering a woman’s body, a kosmos in the athletic case reveals one’s true nature as men compete in the nude.9 Scholars across the board have assumed the cosmetic reading in Aristotle. In doing so they get key passages of NE backward, as I will argue in the chapters to follow.
As a poet for hire, Pindar composed poems to commemorate victories in all four stephanic games. In each ode, he weaves the individual’s victory into a larger context of family history and mythological models, often conveyed through obscure references. Ideas now familiar from philosophy are ubiquitous. Olympian 3 sets these ideas out in a way that is particularly useful for our purposes. The dedicatee is Theron, tyrant of the city of Akragas in Sicily, whose team won the chariot race in 476 BCE. As owner of the team, Theron did not physically compete. Still, his entry into the games, as in many of Pindar’s Odes, is seen as a labor (ponos), since it is voluntary, competitive in spirit, and exposes one to the danger of defeat.10 The original performance of Olympian 3 was likely at a feast in honor of the children of Leda and Tyndareus: the twin gods, Castor and Pollux, and their more famous sister, Helen of Troy.11 The work begins with a nod to this occasion.
To please the hospitable sons of Tyndareus
and Helen of the beautiful hair,
and to honor famous Akragas is my prayer,
as I begin a hymn to Theron for his Olympic victory;
this is the finest reward
for horses with never-wearying hoofs.
This is why, I believe, the Muse stood before me
as I composed in a brilliant new way
to fit my voice of glorious celebration to the Dorian measure;
since the victory wreaths (stephanoi) woven in his hair
exact payment from me of this god-inspired debt:
to combine in due harmony the many-voiced lyre, the cry of pipes,
and the placement of words in honor of Aenesidamus’ son [Theron].
Before her abduction, Helen was queen of Sparta in the Peloponnesus, where Greek was spoken in the Doric dialect. Hence Pindar’s use of it for this poem, where he likens the weaving of a victor’s crown to his poetic weaving of words and music. The poem continues as he turns to the origin of the practice of bestowing victory crowns.
Pisa too instructs me to speak out:
for from there come god-given songs to men,
whenever the unswerving Hellene judge, an Elean of Aetolian stock,
fulfilling Herakles’ ancient orders, sets above a man’s brow
the glory (kosmos) of the grey-green olive in his hair,
which once Amphitryon’s son [Herakles] brought from Istrus’ shadowed springs
to be the most beautiful (kalon) reminder of contests (agōnes) at Olympia.12
Here we have kosmos used interchangeably with stephanos (crown). While it is “a most beautiful reminder” (Pindar uses the superlative form of kalon), the beauty comes from what it reminds one of: competition. Pindar explains:
Herakles had by his eloquence won over
the people living beyond the North Wind, Apollo’s servants.
With honorable intent, he begged from them
for the all-welcoming grove of Zeus
a tree to furnish shade for all,
and to be a crown (stephanos) for deeds of virtue (aretai).
For by now altars had been dedicated to his father [Zeus],
and the gold-charioted moon at mid-month evening
had shown her eye full upon him.
He had laid down the great games’ holy principle of judgement,
and had established the four-year cycle for his festival,
to be held beside the sacred banks of Alpheus;
but the land of Pelops grew no lovely trees
in the dales of the son of Cronus [Zeus].
Here, Pindar credits Herakles for introducing the olive tree to the Peloponnesus and for establishing the Olympic Games. Meanwhile, aretē in its plural form, aretai, can mean not only virtues but deeds of virtue. Pindar specifies that it is the latter for which a crown is given.13 From here, Pindar recounts Herakles’s travels in service to Eurystheus, which eventually brought him face-to-face with an olive grove. The passage concludes:
There he stood and marveled at the trees,
and a sweet desire seized him to plant some
around the point in the twelve-lap course where horses turn.
And so today he gladly attends this his festival
with the godlike twins, sons of deep-girdled Leda.
By invoking Herakles’s presence at their celebration, Pindar highlights the capacity for athletic competition to bring mortals in contact with the divine. This provides the kernel of the idea behind the Olympic Games as formal undertakings:
Departing for Olympus he instructs them
to take charge of the admired games (agōna),
where men compete in virtue (aretē) and swift chariots are driven.
And so, I believe, my spirit urges me to tell Theron
and the Emmenidae that glory (kudos) has come to them
through the gift of the sons of Tyndareus [Castor and Pollux], expert horsemen,
because of all mortals they honor them
with the most numerous hospitable feasts,
preserving by their pious intention the rites of the blessed (makaros) gods.
By calling the gods blessed (makaros), Pindar introduces an idea that figures periodically in NE, either as a synonym for happiness (eudaimonia) or for a state beyond it (chapter 11). Pindar draws the poem to a close by first quoting himself (Olympian 1.1 opens with the phrase “Water is best”) and then drawing all this back to Theron, whose victory is being celebrated.
If water is best (aristeuō), and gold the most revered of all possessions,
now Theron in his turn, by his deeds of virtue (aretai),
has travelled from his home to the world’s limits
and lays hold of the pillars of Herakles [the Strait of Gibraltar].
Further than this neither simpletons nor wise should go.
I shall not venture there; I should be a fool to try.
In short, winning at the Olympics is the best thing a human being can strive for. In the process, Theron, like Herakles, approaches the blessed (makaros) gods and becomes immortal. Crowns (stephanoi), meanwhile, are not mere decoration (kosmos in its cosmetic sense): their beauty (kalon) comes from being won through contests of virtuous deeds (aretai). They are a way to reveal one’s inner worth (thus functioning as a kosmos in its athletic sense). While Pindar does not differentiate between virtues and deeds of virtue as clearly as a philosopher might like, his stress on competition, like Herakles putting his strength to use through twelve grueling labors, captures something close to Aristotle’s insistence that virtue must be put into action. The end result is an aspirational ethic as individuals strive to become more than merely human.
Each of these ideas appears in NE, though it is only by holding Aristotle’s text up against an athletic background that we can see how they fit together in an organic whole.14