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For the doctrinal divergences it shows are related to a pattern that can be perceived in Aristotle’s works as a whole trusted 40 mg furosemide. For example purchase 100mg furosemide fast delivery, in Generation of Animals itself buy furosemide 40mg otc,30 generation without qualification is explained in books 1–2 as the male seed acting as the form and the female menstrual blood as the matter, but in book 4 attention is given to what the offspring will be like, whether it will be male or female, whether it will resemble the father or the mother, or the grandfather or grandmother from the father’s side or the mother’s side, and so on. In the explanation of these variations a number of additional factors are brought into the picture, some of which point to a much more active role of the female part than the sheer passivity the first two books seemed to suggest (e. Aristotle’s remarks (in On the Heavens and the Meteorologica) about atmospheric conditions influencing keenness of sight apparently presuppose an emanatory theory of vision which is difficult to accommodate within his ‘canonical’ view of normal visual perception as expounded in De an. And his remarks about various bodily factors being responsible for different degrees of human intelligence seem difficult to reconcile with his ‘orthodox’ view that thinking is a non-corporeal process. Indeed, in the course of this discussion, we are told by Aristotle that summetr©a also determines whether there is going to be any offspring at all – which raises the question why Aristotle has not mentioned it earlier. As the first sentence says, the purpose of the treatise is to identify whether the causes of this disturbance lie in both partners or in one of them, so that on the basis of this an appro- priate treatment can be determined: ‘The cause of a man and a woman’s failure to generate when they have intercourse with each other, when their age advances, lies sometimes with both, sometimes only in either of them. Now first one should consider in the female the state of things that con- cern the uterus, so that it may receive treatment if the cause lies in it, but if the cause does not lie in it attention may be given to another one of the causes. This procedure is very clearly expressed in 636 b 6–10: ‘But where none of these impediments is present but the uterus is in the state that we have described, if it is not the case that the husband is the cause of the childlessness or that both are able to have children but are not matched to each other in simultaneous emission but are very discordant, they will have children. See also 635 a 31–2: ‘Concerning the mouth of the uterus, then, those are the grounds from which to consider whether it is in the required state or not’ (perª m•n oÔn t¼ st»ma tän Ëst”rwn –k toÅtwn ¡ sk”yiv –st©n, e« ›cei Þv de± £ mž, tr. All these points are presented as indicators for the observer: they serve as clues to an answer to the original question, whether sterility is due to a defect in the female or in the male. This ‘diagnostic’ character is underscored by the frequency of expressions such as ‘on touching, this will appear. Furthermore, the author shows a great interest in ‘signs’: he very frequently uses expressions such as ‘this indicates. A third point which is relevant in this respect is his frequently recurring observation that a particular condition ‘is in need of treatment’ (qerape©av de»menon), or ‘does not require treatment’, or ‘does not admit of treatment’. These characteristics, in combination with the above-mentioned resem- blances to the Hippocratic writings, suggest that we are not dealing with a biological but with a predominantly medical work, intended to provide instructions on how to deal with an important practical problem. For, in the context of early Greek medicine, to establish whether a certain bodily affection required treatment, and whether it admitted of treatment, was 34 mhd•n ˆnaisqhtot”rav e²nai qigganom”nav. In themselves, these expressions are not peculiar to this treatise, but the high frequency and the emphasis the author puts on indicators are significant. Balme clearly wishes to play down the medical character of the work: ‘the book is not iatric and its “medical” content has been overstated... The author does not pursue the issue of male sterility and does not offer any guidelines as to what causes might be identified if his practical test (referred to above) were to suggest that there was something wrong with the male contribution. This is again different from the much shorter, but at the same time more 37 See the discussion by von Staden (1990). Aristotle On Sterility 269 wide-ranging account of sterility in Generation of Animals (746 b 16ff. What Balme seems to mean when he denies the ‘iatric’ nature of the work is that it is not written by a practising doctor and that it is not intended for a medical readership, for example midwives or doctors. However, Balme seems to make this claim on the basis of the alleged absence of what he calls ‘the typical Hippocratic discussion of diseases and remedies’. As Follinger¨ has pointed out, this concept of Hippocratic medicine is too simplistic. The Hippocratic Corpus is the work of a great variety of au- thors from different periods and possibly different medical schools; as a consequence, the collection displays a great variety of doctrines, styles and methods. There are several works in the Hippocratic Corpus which cer- tainly intend a wider readership than just doctors and which explore in great detail the ‘normal’, ‘natural’ state of affairs (e. On the Art of Medicine, On Breaths) it has even been questioned whether they were really written by a doctor with practical experience. This indicates that the distance between the Hippocratic writers and Aristotle was not so great and that we must assume a whole spectrum of varying degrees of ‘specialism’ or ‘expertise’: we need not assume that Aristotle was a practising doctor himself in order to allow for a vivid interest, on his part, in medical details, nor need we assume that in ‘Hist. As recent research has shown, Aristotle’s awareness of Hippocratic views seems to have been much greater than used to be assumed,45 and several Hippocratic works were at least 42 Follinger (¨ 1996) 147–8. It could be seen as an elaborate answer to the question ‘why is it that women often do not conceive after intercourse? What is there to be said, in the light of these considerations, about the ob- jections to Aristotelian authorship raised by earlier scholars? Leaving aside arguments about style and indebtedness to Hippocratic doctrines, which are inconclusive,47 the main difficulties are the view that the female contributes ‘seed’ to generation and the view that air (pneuma) is needed to draw the seed into the uterus. With regard to the first difficulty, Balme and Follinger¨ have pointed out that also in Generation of Animals Aristotle frequently calls the female contribution ‘seed’, or ‘seed-like’ (spermatik»v),48 which is understandable when one considers that for Aristotle both the menstrual discharge and the sperm have the same material origin. In fact, Aristotle seems to waver on the precise formulation, and the view which he is really keen to dismiss in Generation of Animals is that the female seed is of exactly the same nature as the male49 – a view which he attributes to other thinkers but which is not expressed, at least not explicitly, in ‘Hist. To be sure, there is frequent mention of an emission, by the female, of fluid,51 indeed of seed (sp”rma);52 but on two occasions (636 b 15–16 and 637 b 19) the female is said to ‘contribute to the seed’ (sumb†llesqai e«v t¼ sp”rma). Interpreters have usually assumed that the author believes that both male and female seed mix in the mouth of the uterus and that this mixture is subsequently drawn into the uterus with the aid of pneuma. Now, if this was his position, it would be tanta- mount to the view which Aristotle vigorously combats in Gen. Yet on looking closer at the actual evidence for this, it is by no means certain that this is what the author has in mind. The statement in 637 b 30–1 quoted above can also be taken to mean that female ejaculation brings about a favourable condition – but does not necessarily constitute the material agent – for fertility, which would explain why it is so often mentioned as an indicator:55 the fact that she ejaculates (also in sleep), indicates that she is ready to receive the male seed and draw it into the uterus, because it shows that the uterus is positioned in the right direction. On two other occasions, however, it is said that the woman draws in ‘what she has been given’ (t¼ did»menon, t¼ doq”n),58 which does not really suggest that what is drawn in is a mixture of two contributions from both sides. Aristotle On Sterility 273 not constitute the female contribution in a material sense, the mechanism of its emission does contribute, though perhaps indirectly, to the female’s ability to receive the male seed.

The comparatives fronimÛteroi and ¨tton show that these people are not rational and normal per se (that would really contradict Aristotle’s statements) generic 100mg furosemide with visa, but only in comparison to other melancholics (or to those moments when their own balance between hot and cold purchase furosemide 40 mg free shipping, which is after all unstable cheap furosemide 100 mg overnight delivery, is disturbed or absent). They are not really ‘intelligent’, but 82 For this reading (instead of the transmitted but incomprehensible –panq¦€) see Klibansky et al. The sentence is construed in such a way that each clause, so to speak, corrects a possible implication of the previous one, and this construal may well be interpreted as an explicit acknowledgement of Aristotle’s concept of melancholy. As to the question about where to place the melancholic peritton in Aristotle’s theory of virtue, little can be said with any certainty, due to a lack of explicit statements on the subject. However, a good starting-point for the debate would be the principle on which the discussion in the chapter of the Problemata is built, namely that of the ethopoion¯ of the phusis, the influence which the human phusis (in the sense of a ‘natural predisposition’ and a ‘physiological constitution’) exerts on the formation of the human character. It is a fact that the role of nature as a condition or prerequisite for man’s moral and cognitive behaviour in Aristotle’s ethics and psychol- ogy is limited. However, this example implies that what disturbs melancholics on a permanent basis can occur to ev- ery person occasionally and periodically (hence the analogy with wine and drunkenness). Yet the effect of nature in these areas can also manifest itself in a positive way, in outstanding expressions of a special predisposition, which cannot be achieved in what Aristotle considers the usual way, namely by force of habit (ethismos or askesis¯ ) and teaching (didache¯or mathesis¯ ). To describe this special predisposition and its expression in ‘particularly mental shrewdness’, 83 See the general statements on this theme in Eth. An illuminating example of this notion is Aristotle’s frequent reference to metaphors; see the remark in the Poetics (1459 a 5–7), ‘The most important thing is the ability to use metaphors. For this is the only thing that cannot be learned from someone else and a sign of natural genius; for to produce good metaphors is a matter of perceiving similarities’ (polÆ d• m”giston t¼ metaforik¼n e«naiá m»non g‡r toÓto oÎte par’ Šllou –stª labe±n eÉfu©av te shme±»n –stiá t¼ g‡r eÔ metaf”rein t¼ t¼ Âmoion qewre±n –stin). Other passages on this feature of metaphor (its being incapable of being taught) can be found in Rhetoric (1405 a 8) and Poet. Aristotle explains his use of the word euphuia in this passage in the Poetics (1459 a 7) by saying that good use of metaphor is based on the ability ‘to see similarities’ (to homoion theorein¯ ). This corresponds to the fact that Aristotle (as discussed above in section 2 ad Div. It seems to be this connection that enables the melancholic peritton in the areas of philosophy, politics and poetry. For to Aristotle, the principle of ‘perceiving similarities’ not only plays a part in the use of metaphor85 and in divination in sleep, but also in several intellectual activities such as induction, definition and indeed philosophy itself. This explanation is actually used in the text of the Problemata, but can also be found in several short statements in Aristotle’s authentic writings. A direct relationship be- tween bodily constitution and intelligence is for instance made in De. In this respect chapters 12–15 of the second book of the Rhetoric are of particular importance, in which the ‘ethopoietic’ effects of youth and old age and ‘noble descent’ (eugeneia) are discussed; in particular chapter 15 on eugeneia (with its clear relationship to phusis in the sense of a ‘natural predisposition’) is significant. Melancholics are not mentioned in this pas- sage, but it demonstrates precisely the same thought structure as that used to describe melancholics: most of the people of noble descent (eugeneis) belong to the category of ‘the simple-minded’ (euteleis, 1390 b 24; cf. In this passage, similarly to the melancholic’s ‘instability’, reference is made to the quick decline of the eugeneis, either to ‘those who are by character more inclined to madness’ (examples for this are the descendants of Alcibiades and Dionysus) or to stupidity and obtuseness (ˆbelter©a kaª nwqr»thv; 1390 b 27–30). It appears that these two forms of degeneration correspond very well with both the ‘manic-passionate’ and ‘depressive-cold’ expressions of the melancholic nature in Pr. A consideration of the physiological aspect to people’s mental processes and ethical behaviour, as is done frequently in the Problemata,89 turns out 89 On this tendency of the Problemata, which is sometimes unfortunately referred to as ‘materialistic’, see Flashar (1962) 329ff. Aristotle on melancholy 167 to be an approach that Aristotle fully recognises and which he provides with a methodological foundation; it is by no means incompatible with the more ‘psychological’ approach demonstrated in particular in the Ethics, and Aristotle considers it rather as complementary. Whether the text of the chapter goes back to a treatise on melancholy that may have been part of Aristotle’s lost Problemata or whether it goes back to an attempt made by a later Peripatetic (perhaps Theophrastus)91 to systematise the scattered statements of the Master, will remain unknown. In any case, our analysis of the chapter, in particular of the author’s two different objectives, and of the prima facie disproportionate discussion of these objectives, has shown that it is possible to read the text as a deliberate attempt to explain an observation that would at first sight be unthinkable in Aristotle’s philosophy (i. Ascription can only be based on the statement in 954 a 20–1 (e­rhtai d• saf”steron perª toÅtwn –n to±v perª pur»v) and the fact that Diogenes Laertius (5. The former argument has proved to be rather weak: as Flashar (1962, 671) must admit, the statement is not really in line with Theophrastus’ writing De igne. One might point to chapter 35, but precisely at the relevant point the text of the passage is uncertain, and even if one accepts Gercke’s conjecture di¼ kaª toiaÓta qerm»tata t‡ purwq”nta kaq†per s©dhrov, the parallel is not very specific (saf”steron). The statement would make more sense as a reference to a lost book on fire in the Problemata (see Flashar (1962) 671) or the Aristotelian treatment of heat and fire in Part. Yet even if one is prepared to accept the statement as referring to Theophrastus’ De igne, there is the possibility that the Peripatetic editor/compilator of the Problemata collection is responsible for this, and it need not imply that the theory presented in the chapter is originally from Theophrastus (see Flashar (1956) 45 n. These terms correspond to Aristotle’s usage, whereas the word melagcol©a reminds one either of the Hippocratic names for melancholic diseases (for instance Airs, Waters, Places 10, 12; 52, 7 Diller) or of Theophrastus’ theory on character. This way, the explanation of the anomalia¯ and the variety of expressions of the melancholic nature serves to answer the chapter’s opening question, which at the end should not look quite so un- Aristotelian (and indeed no longer does) as at the start. Finally, this chapter should hopefully provide a starting-point for a re- newed testing of the working hypothesis that those parts of the Problemata that have been passed on to us can be used as testimonies of Aristotle’s views, on the understanding that these passages do not contradict the authentic texts. These occurrences do not really seem to contradict the statements made by Aristotle (perhaps with the exception of 860 b 21ff. However, only an in-depth analysis of these at times very difficult passages can more clearly define the precise relationshipwithAristotle’sconcept. For a rather sceptical view on the working hypothesis see Flashar (1962) 303 and 315. As a result, dreams were mostly approached with caution because of their ambiguous nature. The Greeks realised that dreams, while often presenting many similarities with daytime experiences, may at the same time be bizarre or monstrous. This ambiguity gave rise to questions such as: is what appears to us in the dream real or not, and, if it is real, in what sense? What kind 1 perª d• tän tekmhr©wn tän –n to±sin Ìpnoisin Âstiv ½rqäv ›gnwke, meg†lhn ›conta dÅnamin eËržsei pr¼v Œpanta, On Regimen 4. For general surveys of Greek thought on dreams see van Lieshout (1980) and Guidorizzi (1988); for discussions of early and classical Greek thought on sleep see Calabi (1984), Marelli (1979–80) and (1983), Wohrle (¨ 1995) and Byl (1998).

A similar picture is provided by the psychology and pathology of rational thinking (ch cheap furosemide 100mg fast delivery. And furosemide 40 mg amex, moving to the domain of ethics cheap 100mg furosemide overnight delivery, there is a very in- triguing chapter in the Eudemian Ethics, in which Aristotle tries to give an explanation for the phenomenon of ‘good fortune’ (eutuchia), a kind of luck which makes specific types of people successful in areas in which they have no particular rational competence (ch. Aristotle tackles here a phe- nomenon which, just like epilepsy in On the Sacred Disease, was sometimes attributed to divine intervention but which Aristotle tries to relate to the human soul and especially to that part of the soul that is in some sort of intuitive, instinctive way connected with the human phusis – the peculiar psycho-physical make-up of an individual. Thus we find a ‘naturalisation’ very similar to what we get in his discussion of On Divination in Sleep (see chapter 6). Yet at the same time, and again similar to what we find in On the Sacred Disease, the divine aspect of the phenomenon does not completely disappear: eutuchia is divine and natural at the same time. This is a remarkable move for Aristotle to make, and it can be better understood against the background of the arguments of the medical writers. Moreover, 18 Medicine and Philosophy in Classical Antiquity the phenomenon Aristotle describes has a somewhat peculiar, ambivalent status: eutuchia is natural yet not fully normal, and although it leads to success, it is not a desirable state to be in or to rely on – and as such it is comparable to the ‘exceptional performances’ (the peritton) of the melan- cholic discussed in chapter 5. We touch here on yet another major theme that has been fundamental to the development of European thought and in which ancient medicine has played a crucial role: the close link be- tween genius and madness, which both find their origin in the darker, less controllable sides of human nature. The fact that many of these writers and their works have, in the later tradition, been associated with Hippocrates and placed under the rubric of medicine, easily makes one forget that these thinkers may have had rather different conceptions of the disciplines or contexts in which they were working. Thus the authors of such Hippocratic works as On the Nature of Man, On Fleshes, On the Nature of the Child, On Places in Man and On Regimen as well as the Pythagorean writer Alcmaeon of Croton emphatically put their investigations of the human body in a physicist and cosmological framework. Some of them may have had very little ‘clinical’ or therapeutic interest, while for others the human body and its reactions to disease and treatment were just one of several areas of study. Thus it has repeatedly been claimed (though this view has been disputed) that the Hippocratic works On the Art of Medicine and On Breaths were not written by doctors or medical people at all, but by ‘sophists’ writing on technai (‘disciplines’, fields of systematic study with practical application) for whom medicine was just one of several intellectual pursuits. Be that as it may, the authors of On Regimen and On Fleshes, for instance, certainly display interests and methods that correspond very neatly to the agendas of people such as Anaxagoras and Heraclitus, and the difference is of degree rather than kind. A further relevant point here is that what counted as medicine in the fifth and fourth centuries bce was still a relatively fluid field, for which rival definitions were continuously being offered. There was very considerable diversity among Greek medical people, not only between the ‘rational’, Introduction 19 philosophically inspired medicine that we find in the Hippocratic writings on the one hand and what is sometimes called the ‘folk medicine’ practised by drugsellers, rootcutters and suchlike on the other, but even among more intellectual, elite physicians themselves. One of the crucial points on which they were divided was precisely the ‘philosophical’ nature of medicine – the question of to what extent medicine should be built on the foundation of a comprehensive theory of nature, the world and the universe. It is interesting in this connection that one of the first attestations of the word philosophia in Greek literature occurs in a medical context – the Hippocratic work On Ancient Medicine – where it is suggested that this is not an area with which medicine should engage itself too much. It is clear from the context that what the author has in mind is approaches to medicine that take as their point of departure a general theory about ‘nature’ (phusis), more in particular theories that reduce all physical phenomena to unproven ‘postu- lates’ (hupotheseis), such as the elementary qualities hot, cold, dry and wet – theories which the author associates with the practice of Empedocles, who reduced natural phenomena to the interaction and combinations of the four elements earth, fire, water and air. The polemical tone of the treatise suggests that such ‘philosophical’ approaches to medicine were be- coming rather popular, and this is borne out by the extant evidence such as that provided by the Hippocratic treatises mentioned above. There were a number of medical authors for whom what we call ‘philosophy’ would not have been an inappropriate term to describe their projects – regardless of whether or not they knew and used the term. To this group certainly belongs the author of the treatise which is de- servedly one of the most famous writings in the Hippocratic Corpus, On the Sacred Disease. As I alluded to above, this work has long been read as the paradigm of Greek fifth-century rationalism. And it is certainly true that this author, in claiming that epilepsy ‘has a nature’, is doing something very similar to what the Presocratics did in inquiring into the ‘nature’ (phusis) of things, namely their origin, source of growth and identi- fying structure – be they earthquakes and solar eclipses, or bodily processes and changes, illnesses, conditions, affections, symptoms, or substances like foods, drinks, drugs and poisons and the effects they produced on the bod- ies of human beings. And just like Ionian philosophers such as Anaximenes and Anaxagoras in their explanations of earthquakes, solar eclipses, thun- derstorms and other marvellous phenomena, he produces a ‘natural’ ex- planation for a phenomenon – in his case ‘the so-called sacred disease’, epilepsy – that used to be seen as the manifestation of immediate divine agency. Epilepsy, the author argues, like all other diseases (and, one may 20 Medicine and Philosophy in Classical Antiquity add, like all other phenomena), has its own ‘nature’, its peculiar determined, normal, stable and self-contained identity. Knowledge of this identity, and of the regularity that results from this, will allow one to recognise and understand individual instances of the phenomenon, to predict its future occurrence and by medical intervention influence it or even prevent it from happening or spreading. And in making this claim, the author polemicises against people whom he calls ‘magicians, quacks, charlatans’, who regard the disease as a form of whimsical, unpredictable divine intervention or even demonic possession and whose therapeutic practice is determined by magical beliefs and procedures. He describes the development of the disease from its earliest, prenatal and indeed ancestral stages; he identifies the brain as the seat of consciousness (a theme I shall examine in greater depth in chapter 4) and as the primary organ affected by the disease; he discusses a whole range of additional factors, both internal and external, that set the disease in motion or influence its actual development; and he gives a vivid account of the various stages of an epileptic seizure, relating each of the symptoms to a particular underlying physiological cause. Yet for all the emphasis on the naturalness and ‘rationality’ of his ap- proach, we shall see in chapter 1 that the author rules out neither the divinity of the diseases nor the possibility of divine intervention as such. He is distinguishing between an appropriate appeal to the gods for purifi- cation from the ‘pollution’ (miasma) of moral transgressions (hamartemata¯ ) that has disturbed the relationship between man and the gods, and an in- appropriate appeal to the gods for the purification of the alleged pollution of the ‘so-called sacred disease’. This is inappropriate, he says, for diseases are not sent by a god – to say so would be blasphemous, he insists – they are natural phenomena which can be cured by natural means, and they do not constitute a pollution in the religious sense. The text has often been read as if the author ruled out divine ‘intervention’ as such. But in fact, there is no evidence that he does – indeed, he does not even rule out that gods may cure diseases, if approached in the proper way and on the basis of appropriate premises. Such negative readings of the text attributing to the author the ruling out of all forms of divine intervention have presumably been inspired by a wishful belief among interpreters to ‘rationalise’ or ‘secularise’ Hippo- cratic medicine – a belief possibly inspired by the desire to see Hippocratic medicine as the forerunner of modern biomedicine, and which can be par- alleled with interpretative tendencies to ‘demythologise’ philosophers such as Parmenides, Pythagoras and Empedocles to make them fit our concept of ‘philosophy’ more comfortably. Yet recently, there has been a renewed appreciation of the ‘mythical’ or ‘religious’ aspects of early Greek thought, Introduction 21 and a readiness to take documents such as the Dervenyi papyrus, the in- troduction of Parmenides’ poem and the Purifications of Empedocles more seriously. Similar ‘paradigm’ shifts have taken place in the study of Hip- pocratic medicine, and there is now a much greater willingness among interpreters25 to accept the religious and ‘rational’ elements as coexistent and – at least in their authors’ conception – compatible. The question is not so much to disengage from their mythical context those elements which we, or some of us, regard as philosophically interesting from a contemporary perspective, but rather to try to see how those elements fit into that context. Within this approach, the author of On the Sacred Disease can be regarded as an exponent of a modified or ‘purified’ position on traditional religious beliefs without abandoning those beliefs altogether and, as such, he can be said to have contributed also to the development of Greek religious or the- ological thought; for his arguments closely resemble those found in Plato’s ‘outlines of theology’ in the second book of the Republic, or, as I said above, Aristotle’s arguments against the traditional belief that dreams are sent by the gods in his On Divination in Sleep (see also chapter 6).

We want to determine the effect on per- suasiveness when we change (1) the levels of the volume buy furosemide 100 mg with mastercard, (2) the levels of gender buy discount furosemide 40mg line, and (3) the interaction of volume and gender order 40mg furosemide. The Main Effect of Factor A The main effect of a factor is the effect that changing the levels of that factor has on dependent scores, while we ignore all other factors in the study. Literally erase the horizontal line that separates the rows of males and females back in Table 14. Therefore, for example, we started with three males and three females who heard the soft message, so ignoring gender, we have six people in that level. Thus, when we look at the main effect of A, our entire experiment consists of one factor, with three levels of volume. So, for example, the mean for people (male and female) tested under the soft condition is 6. By averaging together the scores in a column, we produce the main effect means for the column factor. A main effect mean is the overall mean of one level of a factor while ignoring the influence of the other factor. Collapsing across a factor means averaging together all scores from all levels of that factor. To see the main effect of volume, look at the overall pattern in the three main effect means to see how persuasiveness scores change as volume increases: Scores go up from around 6 (at soft) to around 11. The H0 says that no difference exists between the levels of factor A in the population, so H0: A 5 A 5 A 1 2 3 In our study, this says that changing volume has no effect, so the three levels of volume represent the same population of persuasiveness scores. Then we describe this relationship by graphing the main effect means, performing post hoc comparisons to determine which means differ significantly, and determining the proportion of variance that is accounted for by this factor. The Main Effect of Factor B After analyzing the main effect of factor A, we move on to the main effect of factor B. Therefore, we collapse across factor A (volume), so erase the vertical lines separating the levels of volume back in Table 14. Thus, when we look at the main effect of B, now our entire experiment consists of one factor with two levels. For example, we started with three males in soft, three in medium, and three in loud. Averaging the scores in each row yields the mean persuasiveness score for each gen- der, which are the main effect means for factor B. To see the main effect of this factor, again look at the pattern of the means: Apparently, changing from males to females leads to a drop in scores from around 11. Our H0 says that no difference exists in the population, so H0: B 5 B 1 2 In our study, this says that our males and females represent the same population. The alternative hypothesis is Ha: not all B are equal In our study, this says that our males and females represent different populations. Then we graph these means, perform post hoc comparisons, and compute the proportion of vari- ance accounted for. Interaction Effects After examining the main effects, we examine the effect of the interaction. The interaction of two factors is called a two-way interaction, and results from combining the levels of factor A with the levels of factor B. Here, factor A has three levels, and factor B has two levels, so it is a 3 3 2 interaction (but say “3 by 2”). Because an interaction is the influence of combining the levels of both factors, we do not collapse across, or ignore, either factor. Instead, we treat each cell in the study as a level of the interaction and compare the cell means. Using the three scores per cell, we compute the mean in each cell, obtaining the interaction means shown in Table 14. For n, we are looking at the scores in only one cell at a time, so our “cell size” is 3, so nA3B 5 3. Thus, now our experiment is somewhat like one “factor” with six levels, with three scores per level. We will determine if the mean in the male–soft cell is different from in the male–medium cell or from in the female–soft cell, and so on. However, examining an interaction is not as simple as saying that the cell means are significantly different. Inter- preting an interaction is difficult because both independent variables are changing, as well as the dependent scores. To simplify the process, look at the influence of changing the levels of factor A under one level of factor B. Then see if this effect—this pattern—for factor A is different when you look at the other level of factor B. As volume increases, mean persuasiveness scores also increase, in an apparently positive, linear relationship. Factor A: Volume Soft Medium Loud B2: X 4 X 12 X 6 female Here, as volume increases, mean persuasiveness scores first increase but then decrease, producing a nonlinear relationship. Thus, there is a different relationship between volume and persuasiveness scores for each gender level. A two-way interaction effect is present when the relationship between one factor and the dependent scores changes with, or depends on, the level of the other factor that is present. Thus, whether increasing volume always increases scores depends on whether we’re talking about males or females.