Nothing, In Particular

Socrates and Theaetetus have a brief discussion about the idea of non-being and whether or not one could even think about it. Ultimately, Socrates decides that it is incomprehensible since to think about it, one would need a term of being. This got me contemplating on nothing in particular.

One of the problems with nothing as a concept (and infinity as well) is that it must be bound linguistically to be relevant to human beings. But the very thing that gives us the ability to discuss nothingness also makes it a something rather than a nothing. The very act of defining it makes it a non-nothing. One cannot truly type the concept of nothing, as the word itself is definable as at the very least, a word. Whereas this defining places a lower limit on nothing, it does the same, but with an upper limit to infinity.

Aside from the problems faced by philosophers of mind and linguistics, the discussion of nothing ties in nicely with Plato's ideas of the Forms and soul. It is natural that the soul exist both before and after life, as it cannot slip into nothingness. If it were to do so, either it would be unknowable (and we therefore would know nothing of it), or it would still be definable in its lack-of-soul-ness (as opposed to soullessness which is a problem nearly unique to the legal field). Likewise, the Forms must exist, because without them, a quality would not be readily knowable, as it would be coming out of nothing. It may be perceivable in nature, but for Plato, without the Form, there would be no quality to define. This is almost replayed by Berkeley in that things exist so long as they are in the mind of God.

While much of this may seem tangential, it provided another link in the chain for my understanding of the inner workings of Plato. Unless my opinion is wrong, in which case, I will cover that in my presentation.

A Face Only a Philosopher Could Love

What I most want to analyze in the opening of the dialogue is Theaetetus' comparison to Socrates. Most youths that we have encountered thus far have been described in terms of beauty and the desirability that said beauty brings. This is not so with Theaetetus. He is described as being near the looks of Socrates, though less so. While this would probably be deemed an insult by most, because it is one of the so rare physical descriptions in Plato's anthology, it must be of some importance.

If Forrest Gump suffered from Socrates' looks, he would have said, "I am not a pretty man." This is why it is so intriguing that Theaetetus is described as looking like Socrates. I believe it to be a comparison to their respective levels of wisdom. Though both have been forsaken by the triviality of corporeal beauty, Socrates is the uglier of the two, and the wiser.

I would also like to toss around the idea that as Theaetetus is described as have features slightly more beautiful (less ugly) than Socrates, he is on his way to them. That is to say, could the reference to their looks be a way of saying Theaetetus is travelling along the same journey Socrates took to his current level of wisdom? Or is this an allegory of how Socrates came to be there? Either way, when placed in conjunction with the comment about how Socrates predicted great things for Theaetetus, it is not hard to draw a conclusion that Socrates was either projecting that Theaetetus would do well and become like him, or that Theaetetus would achieve great things because he was like Socrates.

Hemlock, Stock, and Two Smoking Points to Make

I want to focus on two particular aspects: the first being Socrates' treatment of inevitability and the second, his final words.

Inevitability insofar as this dialogue is concerned, distinguishes itself quite potently from the modern opinion of it. Modern society seems to have an obsession with control. It can be seen in the frequent checking of communications, the desire to rise to the top of whatever field in which one finds one's self, and even in the frequent checking of clocks. Each one of these examples is a way in which we as individuals can be sure that things are not happening without our knowledge, and therefore without our input and control. We are so obsessed with control that we compulsively check the time, as if the time's changing is something that is influenced by our knowledge of it. We want to know when the minute hand will next tick, as if it is waiting for our approval. This can be contrasted with the ancient view in which people are not so individualistic. Socrates preaches a contentment. He seeks wisdom for wisdom's sake, but he is content to be poor, and to be good enough at his trade to survive. He is a part of a society, and knows that entails not being in control of anything beyond himself. When it comes time to die, he is accepting, because he has relinquished control. The inevitable means something will happen; we in the modern world just fear things happening outside of our control.
Our fear of the inevitable comes from our misunderstanding of what is enough. To control ourselves, to pursue wisdom, and to sustain ourselves are all enough. In the end, we will die, and that will be enough. No amount of anxiety will change that. We could do worse than to adopt Socrates' attitude on this.

One other peculiarity that I found was in Socrates' final words. I won't make the argument that he chose Asclepius because hemlock was his cure for life. Instead, I would like to say that it seems from this passage that to be just is to pay one's due. Despite all of the argument in the Republic, here we have Socrates at the end of his life, instructing someone to pay back a debt. The fact that it is a god shows piety's connection to justice. Maybe the choice for Asclepius is to indicate that Plato is righting his former misjudgement of what justice is. Or maybe the fact that Socrates is dying shows that the debt balance view of justice belonged to Socrates and now we can move past that to healing it.
Or Crito is charged to be the healer of men.

Delian Deliverance

There are two major curiosities that I would like to mention from the very beginning of the dialogue. The first being that this is told first hand. The second is how closely Apollo is paired with Socrates.

While I am not familiar enough with the collected works of Plato, I am curious as to what is implied by who the narrator is. I just feel like having a narrator who was there is not accidental. I would like to hear something on the subject.

The more substantial portion of this post is focused on the connection between Apollo and Socrates. While it is well known that Socrates is a vehement follower of Apollo, the allusions to the god make more of a statement about the view of Socrates and whom he represents in the dialogue rather than just his religious life. Primarily, Apollo is one of the main oracular gods, affiliating him with wisdom (a comparison made in the Apology with reference to the Delphic oracle's judgement of Socrates). One of the first instances of this relation that we encounter in this particular dialogues is contained within the pilgrimage to Delos. The execution is postponed on account of a pledge made to Apollo not to pollute the city with death. It is quite significant then that Socrates' death is viewed as a pollution, and is not sanctioned by the god.  Going one step further, with the connection to Apollo's oracular nature, Plato is saying it is unwise (and boerderline impious) to kill Socrates. While that seems obvious enough for us a few millinia later, there is a nuance to be appreciated for its time.

Secondly, Phaedo mentions that Socrates felt he, "would not go without divine providence," even to Hades. I took this as another allusion to Apollo. What is interesting about this particular reference is that Hades is a cold, dark, barren place full of mindless shades, and Apollo is the god of the sun, radiating light, warmth, and wisdom. Interestingly enough, given the reincarnation aspect of this dialogue, Hades (with it's jewelled pseudo-sun of myth made for Persephone) sounds much like the Cave, and Socrates with his providence by Apollo being the freed captive.

Abstract

In this paper I intend to advocate a multi-tiered approach to analysing Plato’s allegory of the cave and its symbolism using the narrative nature of the allegory. Following the path of the philosopher, one can elucidate three main commentaries from Plato: a social commentary on the behavior of Athens, a spiritual commentary on the journey of the soul (better expanded in later dialogues), and finally a commentary on the philosopher himself, along with the proper ways to practice philosophy. Important factors and symbols to note will include the captives themselves, the shadows, shadow makers, manner of freedom, fire, ascent, and sun, all within the narrative framework of the individual’s journey, and re-evaluated for each leg—so to speak—of the trip.  It is my ultimate goal to demonstrate that the proper practice of philosophy intersects with and is inseparable from these three—social, spiritual, and philosophically minded—aspects of one’s life and situation.

Poros to the Left, Metis to the Right, Stuck in the Middle with Eros

At the forefront of Plato's Symposium is the discussion of Eros, but equally as important is the force that moves the conversation. Eros itself is propelling the speakers. With each successive speech, the occupants of the symposium have fallen more and more to their passions for wine and revelry until the conversation makes its way to Socrates. He, representing wisdom, has not fallen to the drink, and instead speaks most clearly, and with the most telling message. In fact, his speech is about using the passionate desire for eros and beauty to escalate one's self to wisdom and the forms when the entire event has been comprised of a sort of microcosm of this; each speech moving from erotic passions, to love of beauty, and eventually arriving at Socrates. Diotima's ladder has itself been represented in the nature and progression of the symposium, as an event rather than just a title.

It is also worth noting that Socrates places Eros as between gods and men. It is not something that can sit content like the rest of the gods. Rather, it is a driving force, a hunger, and a catalyst for action. Socrates treats it much like the appetitive component of the will. It is not innately good or bad, but rather something to be trained for one's betterment. It can, if unchecked, drive one to become Alcibiades, or it can make one a lover and seeker of wisdom, but it is up to the rational will to decide. The most intriguing part of this treatment of the passions is that it is far from the typical view that Plato viewed all passion as negative, and far more closely in line with later Christian theologians such as Augustine who emphasize a turning of the will back to God (who by and large fits closely with Plato's description of the Good).

Just Running

"And this is the way with the just; he who endures to the end of every action and occasion of his entire life has a good report and carries off the prize which men have to bestow," is one of the lines of Book X that most caught my eye, because in it, I see the clearest definition of justice that Plato offers.

It would seem to me that the analogy of the runner carries with it many different aspects of justice. First, one cannot owe another. These debts would slow him down or make him answerable and in some aspect controlled by another. So at least this most primitive definition of justice is encompassed, but there is much more here. Plato points to a timelessness of justice: that it's not so much that one can act just and unjust, but rather that one is to be consistently just to the finish line. But using "just" in a definition of justice does not do much good. 

Another way this analogy helps to define justice is focussing on keeping good report with every action. This brings to the forefront a duty aspect of justice. If one is to be just, one must do his duty. Where this becomes interesting is in what one's duty is. Duty changes from station to station and between professions, but even greater so does duty vary between cultures. A Lakedaimonion's duty is not the same as an Athenian's, but in some way they are both tied together. The fulfilment of one's duty to whichever one is bound seems to participate in the form of justice. So long as one endures to the end of every action--be that action Spartan or Athenian--one will carry off the prize; one will be just.

What is interesting about this is the way in which Justice is both a constant and malleable. As a Form, it is eternal, but it seems as though the way in which one participates in that Form is effected by one's circumstance. While I haven't quite figured out what this means, or where it is going, I do think it is of interest to note and discuss.