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.

Plato's discussion of the different types of government in Book VIII caught my eye the most for several reasons, the greatest of which is how he places avarice at the root of the decline of each government.

Given that Athenians are known for democracy, it is also striking that Plato places that among the most easily corrupted forms of government. However, following the root cause of corruption, one can easily see how the democracy is more open to be corrupted. By allowing the few to influence the votes of the many, democracy is compromised. In the view of Plato, democracy is only as good as its citizens. When there is inequity, the lower class becomes dependent on the upper class, creating a situation in which they either compromise integrity for needs, or suffer for integrity. In Plato's eyes, they will almost assuredly compromise. But behind this compromise, there is greed driving the upper class. They are the ones who can afford to help, but their greed will extend beyond the monetary and lead into a hunger for power. This contrasts greatly with the typical egalitarian view of democracy as the tyrant slayer.

When viewed in contrast with the Timocracy of Sparta, it becomes even more peculiar from an Athenian stand point. Given that it is the Spartan way, one would think that it would be less favorable. However, it is the ideal situation for a guardian. one must earn his way there. The downfall comes when one ceases to prove his merit and sits on his laurels.

The underlying issue with both of these contrasting forms of government are the ways in which corruption comes to exist. It is not inherent in the workings or the structure of the political system, but comes about as a flaw within the people. Plato seems to rail against complacency and the desire for manipulations of others. When one looks at what makes a good philosopher in his eyes, it is easy to find other examples. The philosopher in the cave can never be complacent to have seen the light without sharing it, and the manipulating influences are exposed as mere shadows. For Plato, the good soul is content with his station, but never complacent. He does not desire beyond his means or what he deserves, but he does strive toward wisdom. More than anything, the philosopher sees other people as souls which are not to be mistreated.

Spelunking

What strikes me most about the allegory of the cave is the layering involved. While I won't go too much into detail, for fear of later being redundant during my presentation, in the one individual's journey, three are taken.

 First, and most common is the social; Socrates narrates the journey of any given Athenian-- or indeed any given person-- through the levels of increasing socialization, ranging from familial instruction to acclimation to the culture, and even formal education before moving onto questioning and developing the culture and society.

Secondly is the journey of the soul (which will also be referred to as the spiritual journey). Here we see a soul brought into darkness-- amnesis-- then shown the fire which makes it aware of its state of ignorance, before beginning its ascent to anamnesis, all the while stumbling as its level of enlightenment changes. Eventually, the soul is able to ascend to the realm of the Forms in its reckoning with the entirety of the sun. At this point, to go backward back into darkness is not only a descent, but as blurring and numbing as the ascent originally was.

Thirdly, there is the journey of the philosopher. One begins unaware that there could be a reality other than the one being experienced. It is in questioning and being unable to accommodate something new in one's previous system that reveals the flaws of one's perceived reality (such as the inability to explain the objects and fire as a part of the world of shadows). From this point, one begins on a ascent of inquiry, all the while stumbling and squinting to discern what is and what is not real. The ultimate goal is to understand the Forms, but in doing so, one must trek long and hard, all the while resisting the urge to become complacent in the degree of light that one's wisdom finds itself until the sun is finally grasped. At this point, to go back and accept the images and reflections of opinion and assumption of the old reality would be a dizzying miasmic blur.

The last and to the philosopher, the most important piece is the charge. Socrates sends the enlightened individual back down into the cave to enlighten his fellows. While it is a hard trip back, the philosopher must cling to the wisdom he has gained and resist the urge to acclimate himself to the darkness. His duty is to lead others out, not fall back into their place.

 When one takes a step back from the allegory and looks at the narrative as a whole, this charge is executed by Socrates in his own descent from the enlightenment (or at least the perceived enlightenment) of Athens, down into the Piraeus: down from the upper echelons to the common folk: another moment of Plato's framing Socrates as the ideal philosopher-- never complacent, and always dragging others to the light.

Techne-ing Over Sophia: The Dark Side of Plato

I would like to focus on a point that has—until the end of Book II—been left unanswered. Thrasymachus raises quite the deep cutting point that to be just does not really seem to have any advantage over being unjust. In fact, not only do the unjust get ahead in their pursuits, but the gods even give them fewer toils and troubles. Since up to the ending of Book II, the only potential answer to Thrasymachus has been that the afterlife may be better (though in other dialogues Plato/Socrates admit that the afterlife is a mystery), the issue deserves further thought.

The idea of justice as an obstacle to pursuits that is shed for greater benefits seems at its surface to be an ethical issue. When taking into account other voices in the dialogue and their claiming justice as a necessary evil to societal life—i.e. a social contract theory—it becomes something in the realm of political philosophy. However, the objections raised to justice do more than just strike at any one realm of philosophy; they cut it to the core.

One can easily see the damage that this position could inflict to the entire realm of ethics. Not only does acting justly lie at the base of most ethical dilemmas, but to treat any ethical value or virtue as something which provides no benefit really takes all the wind out of the sails of the ship of ethics. It leaves it a floating monument of inquiry, but still something that will not take anyone anywhere. If there is no reason to practice ethics, then it is hard to make a case for ethics to exist. Though perhaps one could argue that it is better for people in general to behave ethically.

Moving on to this Machiavellian (though anachronistically so) view that although one can get ahead by being unjust, the whole falls behind if everyone is, one is confronted with a sort of prisoners’ dilemma; sure, being unjust will give better pay outs, but if everyone else is unjust, no one gets anywhere. This situation gives some credence to why justice should be deemed a good, but it still does not vindicate justice. Instead, it leaves it as a statute rather than a virtue, and statutes hold no inherent power.

Justice, goodness, and a select few other abstract concepts lie at the core of philosophy, if philosophy really is to be considered the art of living well (via the pursuit and love of wisdom). However, if one of these concepts—in this case justice—is to be something which does not hold to be an inherently worthy pursuit but rather a means to an end, then all of philosophy takes a blow. It leaves sophia a sort of side show to techne. To say that the utter uselessness of philosophy would lead to a sort of nihilism would be to put it lightly. Nihilism itself is a philosophical stance that at least is arrived at through the study of philosophy and the pursuit of wisdom. Without philosophy being at least a worthy endeavour, only skills survive. The world of the wise and ethical dies, and the world of the business major is left to rise.

So while the importance of justice to the world of philosophy is here underlined, what is left unsettled is why philosophy is so important, or even whether it is a real and true pursuit. The answer must lie past Book II.