‘Concepts and Universals in Aristotle’s Metaphysical Thought’ by Christof Rapp starts with the recognition that Aristotle does not have a general term for ‘concept’ and examines which entities in his metaphysical theory might play the role of concepts. According to Rapp, many of Aristotle’s discussions focus on the meaning of general terms and whether they signify something real and existing independently in its own right. Aristotle remains committed to the view that universals as captured by genuine definitions are crucial for human knowledge and understanding. Insofar as Aristotle resists a conception of universals as existing in the way that particular substances do, he can be taken to intimate that universals are ‘merely conceptual’. In the Metaphysics, he distances himself from the view that universals such as genera and species qualify as substances. His main contribution to our thinking about concepts consists in the view that both universals and embodied substantial forms have mental counterparts, by which we grasp and understand the things falling under the conceived form or essential definition.

It is relatively well known that Buridan’s nominalist semantics changed “the rules of the game” in practically all fields of philosophy and science. For instance, in his semantics, the traditional distinction between essential and accidental predicates is mapped onto the Ockhamist distinction between absolute and connotative terms and concepts. It is, however, still not quite well understood what impact these “new rules” had in particular philosophical disciplines. This essay offers a case study of the late-medieval paradigm change brought about by nominalist “semantical innovations.” In particular, it contrasts Aquinas’ “semantics-driven mereology” with Buridan’s, set against the background of Buridan’s new, nominalist semantics, arguing that the two authors’ differences in their mereological considerations are rooted in the differences between their diverse semantic intuitions. The conclusion of the essay will provide a brief logical and historical evaluation of the paradigmatic changes brought about by these diverse intuitions.

This chapter provides the volumes general conceptual framework. It begins by addressing why new approaches to accountability are needed, arguing that accountability literature has reached a stalemate as a result of an impasse between deductive and inductive approaches to accountability in the EU. It then argues that overcoming the stalemate requires developing a generalised framework of what accountability is for, deriving four accountability goods to be used in subsequent chapters. The chapter argues that each of the goods can be delivered in procedural or substantive ways, focusing either on the process by which decisions are made or the substantive worth of decisions themselves. The chapter concludes by discussing the strengths and weaknesses of both varieties of accountability before mapping out how the concepts will be applied across policy fields and institutions in subsequent chapters.

The idea of a material constitution has become influential for at least two reasons. The first reason is the absence of coincidence between the scope of the rules of the formal or written constitution and the wider field of constitutional rules. Second, the idea of a material constitution also comes into play as some authors will define the constitution by a specific content or ’matter’. This chapters aims at clarifying the uses of the reference to a constitutional matter by exploring the form versus matter distinction. The core of our case can be summed up as follows: the form of the constitution is law; the matter of the constitution is politics. Politics, as a social activity, influences law as much as law, in turn, can govern political action to a certain degree. In this process, legal substance is as relevant as legal form. What matters, thus, is a relative degree of fitness between political activity (or matter) and law. A (sufficiently) ’good’ constitution allows for political activity to take place, while shaping it in keeping with basic constitutionalist values and principles. Such a constitution can be defined as a principled instrument of self-government.

This chapter introduces the two main questions that this book attempts to answer. First: Why powers? Second: What are powers like? It also discusses the overlap between metaphysics and science, some differences between powers and qualities, the relationship between properties and substances, how we can know powers, and different types of powers isms. The chapter then distinguishes between networking and nodal accounts of powers before previewing the central idea of the book: the 3d account of powers (a nodal account), which combines two core theses. The first is the Physical Intentionality Thesis, which concerns the fact of physical intentionality: that the power is directed toward manifestations. The second is the Informational Thesis, which concerns the content of physical intentionality: what the power is for or directed toward. Lastly, a roadmap for the rest of the book is provided.

This chapter examines the relationship between “logic,” language, and methodology in Heidegger. It begins by contrasting two ways in which one might understand that relationship: Dummett’s position as articulated in The Logical Basis of Metaphysics and Dreyfus’s influential reconstruction of Sein und Zeit. Focusing on Sein und Zeit §33, the chapter distinguishes Heidegger’s own view from each of these. First, drawing on his discussions of “grammar,” it shows where and why he diverges not just from someone like Dummett, but also from Kant. Second, it argues for the difference between the approach in this chapter and the Dreyfusian one: For Dreyfus, Heidegger’s attack on logic is ultimately a question of content, for Golob it is ultimately a question of method. The chapter closes by indicating how this analysis might be extended to texts from the 1924 Platon: Sophistes lectures to Die Sprache in the 1950s, paying particular attention to the concept of a “meta-language.”

Bartolus of Sassoferrato, the leading jurist of his day, whose influence spanned several centuries, first formulated an equation of family and its property (substantia) that cast an image of family enduring over time in the immediate passage of property from father to son. That tie was so pivotal that a son could be termed, however incorrectly in strict legal terms, as a co-owner of the estate with his father. Disinheritance was difficult to conceive of in these terms, although it was an allowed legal institution. Subsequent jurists followed Bartolus's lead, even though they were likely to face only situations where the paradigmatic passage of haereditas from father to son was not possible.

In late medieval and Renaissance Italian societies, family was conceived as a quasi-corporate entity, continuing across generations. But in law ownership was conceived as an attribute of individuals, and generally of only one person in a household, the paterfamilias. Legal experts worked to accommodate legal notions to the realities of family life, which were close to what anthropologists have come to term an economy of sharing (with multiple and overlapping rights). Law thus came to provide instruments that helped perpetuate families or terminate them. It fell to the paterfamilias to manage property and use legal instruments to do so in order that the patrimony, substantia, could be transmitted to the next generation.

This chapter concerns the early modern redefinition of psychology as the science of mind. It examines the way the “invention of mind” was incorporated into Descartes’s metaphysical project. This Cartesian innovation marked a rupture from the traditional science of the soul as a division of natural science or physics. Rejecting the Aristotelian partition of the soul into distinct powers and the Scholastic view of the principle of thought (the intellect) as only the highest psychic power, the new Cartesian psychology required the unity of the soul as the thinking substance. What constituted early modern psychology as a metaphysical science of mind, this chapter argues, was fundamentally Descartes’s “realist” thesis that mind is a thing (res). Together with this Cartesian substantialist view, its critical reception structured the modern science of mind. The early modern alternatives to Descartes’s ontological thesis about mind, the chapter highlights, were based either on the argument that mind is not a thing or on the argument that mind is a non-substantial thing, a mere mode. The chapter illustrates the first argument with Hobbes, the second with Regius and Spinoza.

Substance (substantia, zelfstandigheid)’ is a key term of Spinoza’s philosophy. Like almost all of Spinoza’s philosophical vocabulary, Spinoza did not invent this term, which has a long history that can be traced back at least to Aristotle. Yet, Spinoza radicalized the traditional notion of substance and made a very powerful use of it by demonstrating – or at least attempting to demonstrate – that there is only one, unique substance – God (or Nature) – and that all other things are merely modes or states of God. In the first section, I examine Spinoza’s definitions of "substance" and "God" at the opening of the Ethics. In the second section, I study the properties of the fundamental binary relations pertaining to Spinoza’s substance: inherence, conception, and causation. The third section is dedicated to a clarification of Spinoza’s claim that God, the unique substance, is absolutely infinite. The fourth section studies the nature of Spinoza’s monism. It will discuss and criticize the interesting yet controversial views of Martial Gueroult, about the plurality of substances in the beginning of the Ethics and evaluate Spinoza’s kind of ontological monism. The fifth and final section explains the nature, reality, and manner of existence of modes.