Theaetetus II

In the Theaetetus, at 183b, Socrates says,

“One must not use even the word ‘thus’; for this ‘thus’ would no longer be in motion; nor yet ‘not thus’ for here again there is no motion.  The exponents of this theory need to establish some other language; as it is, they have no words that are consistent with their hypothesis …”

This passage is interesting because Plato here seems to be showing an awareness of what Kierkegaard later called the “mediacy” of language.  Kierkegaard argued that what we experience is the immediate.  But as soon as we put that into language, language becomes a kind of mediation.  It mediates the immediacy of our actual reality into a kind of fixed or static reality.  In the passage cited above, I Socrates seems to be recognizing this very kind of thing.  The quote is set in the context of a discussion about whether everything is in a continual state of “becoming” or “flux”.   Plato here notices that language is not really suited to speak about a world which is always ‘becoming’.  He says to really talk about this we would need some other kind of language.  And while he makes this realization, he fails to see one of its possible implications.  Namely, perhaps that it is language itself which is the problem.  Perhaps everything really is in motion, in flux, and it is only that nature of language prevents us from speaking about it so.  Many of Socrates arguments are based on things that seem static, or seem like opposites (blackness and whiteness, hotness and coldness, knowledge and ignorance) but what Socrates fails to do is question whether or not this seeming is only because language represents these as such, or because that’s really the way they are.  I think some explanation like this has been given in the 20^th century as to where Socrates went wrong, but I can’t remember who.  I think this is an important topic; one I’d love to pursue in class. 

Theaetetus I

One might characterize the textbook version of Plato’s theory of recollection to be something like this:  The soul is eternal.  Prior to entering our embodied state we had knowledge of the forms.  We forget these forms at birth.  Learning is the process of recollecting the truth we already know.  This recollecting happens when we see things for ourselves, possibly through the help of a teacher, or as Socrates presents himself, “the midwife,” and reason is what is responsible for our coming to truth.

I would like to point out that in this sketch of recollection, although I’m sure incomplete, Socrates can be, and I think has been, interpreted to mean that dialectical reason is the only thing we need to come to the truth.  I found it interesting, therefore, that in the opening pages of the Theaetetus we find several references to some kind of supernatural involvement in aiding this process of recollection.  Perhaps this is something like Augustinian “illumination.”

In two passages this is explicitly communicated:

“And yet it is clear that this is not due to anything they have learned from me; it is that they discover within themselves a multitude of beautiful things, which they bring forth into the light.  But it is I, with God’s help, who deliver them of this offspring.” (150d, italics added)

“So begin again, Theaetetus, and try to say what knowledge is.  And don’t on any account tell me that you can’t.  For if God is willing, and you play the man, you can.” (151d, italics added)

In a third passage, Socrates speaks of those who think their ideas were all their own and do not give proper credit to God’s willingness and Socrates’s help, leave Socrates sooner than they should and often miscarry. (150e)

Some of these people realize their folly and return to Socrates.  Socrates says,

               “When that happens, in some cases the divine sign that visits me forbids me to associate with them; in others, it permits me, and then they being again to make progress.”  (151a)

All three passages are found within a few paragraphs of each other and right at the start of the dialectic with Theaetetus; before the heavier argumentation begins.  Because of this repetition, it seems to me that we should not ignore the emphasis Plato is putting on divine help in giving birth to our ideas.  The fact that the divine sign prevents Socrates from continuing to work with some pupils could be symbolic of at least two things: (1) that God is the ultimate giver or withholder of knowledge and understanding, or (2) that the power of reason is not unbounded.  Maybe there is important role that God still plays in Plato’s epistemology that is too quickly dismissed by naturalistic interpretations.  I think this should also cause us to question those who want to draw a hard and fast line between philosophy and theology.  I suspect that modern thinkers – post Descartes – tend to project backwards, that knowledge must be something that we, as autonomous thinking things, must arrive at ourselves.  But this textual evidence should give us pause before we attribute such ideas to him.

Socratic Lessons on Teaching Philosophy

In Socrates’ discussion with Phaedo between 90b and 91b, we find him role modeling two very important aspects of how to teach philosophy.  First, Socrates is very attentive to the fact that philosophy can be a frustrating enterprise, where one ends up in contradiction, or in aporia, lacking the answers that one set out to find.  Socrates warns Phaedo saying, “We should not allow into our minds the conviction that argumentation has nothing sound to it.” (90e). Socrates tells Phaedo that this can happen if one does not have the proper skill at argumentation.  In one’s distress and frustration, the student can “shift the blame away from himself to the arguments, and spend the rest of his life hating and reviling reasonable discussion and so be deprived of truth and knowledge of reality” (90d).  I think this is very pertinent to how we might teach any introduction to philosophy class.  I think even in my own philosophical journey I have at times asked myself, “well if we never get to a final answer what is the point?”  We need to make sure that we help students through this process, so that they find the right perspective on the matter.  I would be especially interested in discussing this issue in class to get Nathan and Anne’s take. 

Two ideas I had were as follows:  One, make sure to not always discuss such difficult subjects that answers do seem impossible.  Make sure to give some easy wins, for instance, like how we can rule out straight utilitarianism in ethics.  Even if we can’t determine a final theory we all agree on, we can make important progress by ruling things out.  Two, we should make sure to emphasize the lifelong process of learning and philosophy.  I.e. that it is a journey that never ends.  Third, getting students comfortable with the fact that it is okay to change their minds even if they were once convinced of something, and that refinement of our positions and arguments is a good and normal process.  If they don’t understand that refinement is a normal part of the process, this also could lead to a kind of despairing.

The second warning Socrates gives is that we must train students not to relish in argument for the sake of arguing, winning the debate, or convincing others.  Rather, we need to train and remind our students, as well as ourselves, that we should be focused on getting to the truth that we can really accept ourselves.  Socrates says, “I shall not be eager to get the agreement of those present that what I say is true, except incidentally, but I shall be very eager that I should myself be thoroughly convinced that things are so” (91a).   I think this perspective is really important.  Students (likely ourselves included) can be so concerned about writing a good paper or finding a good criticism of another argument, that there can be a tendency to start arguing for argument’s sake alone, without even thinking whether or not one's position is a truth one is convinced of oneself.