September 2009 Archives

I'm not one to boast of my knowledge and widespread reading of Plato and the Socratic dialogues, as this is the first time I have been introduced to reading Plato. However, at least in comparison to what I have read, Protagoras and the Meno, it is striking to see Socrates battling with his interlocutors in Gorgias. Socrates is not just using the dialectic method with a series of question/answer in which he attempts to orient his interlocutors towards the Good, Just, etc., and use as a strategy to, eventually, transform a person's soul and how they think.

In Gorgias, Socrates is no longer playing a role of discussion starter/questioner, he is fighting in a very competitive and agonistic atmosphere in which he proclaims oaths, often in frustration at Gorgias and Polus' inadequacy of defining what rhetoric really is. "And by Zeus, uncover rhetoric, as you were recently saying, and say what in the world its power is," 460a. "So then, what in the world is the case with these things, by the dog" 461b, again at 466c.

Socrates' use of oaths signals to the reader that Socrates is no longer modest and patient, but feels the need to let out his frustration that Polus and Gorgias are unable to inform him of what is rhetoric and what it teaches.

In the Gorgias dialogue, there are three rounds:
Socrates vs. Gorgias
Socrates vs. Polus
Socrates vs. Callicles

In his round against Polus, Socrates seemingly reveals to the reader his take on sophistry and rhetoric as he is increasingly frustrated with Gorgias and Polus. The discussion begins to become heated as Polus seemingly accuses Socrates of his opinion that "the rhetorician is powerless to use rhetoric unjustly and to want to do injustice," 461b. Polus counters, "What's this, Socrates? Do you too actually hold such an opinion about rhetoric as you are now saying?...But it is much rudness to lead arguments into such things," 461b, 461c.

Well, what is Socrates' actually opinion? He does admit that "what I call rhetoric is part of a certain business that is not one of the fine ones" 463a and that rhetoric is "a phantom of a part of politics," 463d.

Importantly, Socrates goes on to assert a similarity between sophistry and cosmetic and rhetoric to cookery (that defies medicine).

"So cookery has slipped in under medicine and pretends to know the best foods for the body, so that, if the cook and the doctor had to contest among children or among men as thoughtless as children which of the two, the doctor of the cook, has understanding about useful and bad foods, the doctor would die of hunger," 464d,

"..and beneath gymnastic, according to this same manner, lies cosmetic, in that it is evildoing, deceitful, ignoble, and unfree, deceiving with shakes colors, smoothness, and garments, so as to make them, as they take upon themselves an alien beauty, neglect their own beauty that comes from gymnastic," 465b.

Critically, "as cosmetic is to gymnastic, so is sophistry to the legislative art; and as cookery is to medicine, so is rhetoric to justice." 465c.

Thus, Socrates draws a comparison between sophistry and cosmetic in which it is a misleading "art" that is neglected by sophists to rise to a potentially good use in society, "its own beauty." Furthermore, the association between rhetoric and cookery suggests that rhetoric deceives the ignorant into believing that which is not necessarily just.

After his strikingly blunt declaration of what he sees sophistry and rhetoric as, Socrates is met with exclamations and antagonistic opposition from Polus. It is all to clear that in Gorgias, Socrates is engaging in a passionate defense for, metaphorically, his life and philosophy. Rather, it is a battle of the philosophical life versus the political life and a fight to see which is better. Is it Socrates and philosophy or Gorgias/Polus/Callicles and politics, the life of celebrity, fame, and trying to sell something - politics, rhetoric, and sophistry? Is this life of fame the preferred life? In Protagoras, the great sophist with the dialogue's title sells his wisdom, though he hypes down this clearly unadmirable habit in his claim that he is a brave and proud sophist amid a profession who do so in secret, while Gorgias is also widely regarded as a rhetorician, though he does not seem to hold a firm grasp as to what rhetoric truly is and whether it is a just or unjust "art." Perhaps Plato is critical of democracy, or a kind of political life in which the point is to persuade a position for power, and thus, increases the ignorance of the people. This would seem all too familiar to America today in which politics is made up of senators, parties, etc, that seemingly feed on the ignorance of the population to gain the vote.

First, to Dr. Long, we wish you a speedy recovery.  It's good to have the blogging structure in place so as to serve in lieu of our in-class dialogue.

Second, I would like to alter a position that I took last week in class.  I expressed skepticism at Socrates' method of dialectic and suggested that he was being overbearing in his approach to Gorgias and Polus.  While I maintain this was the case, I qualify this with the recognition of the end that he was seeking, namely to form a true dialogue.  Regarding this point, I would like to credit Daniel and Jordan, as they (and maybe others) argued in Socrates' favor, suggesting that his strict dialectic was more of a method of reining in the conversation so as to move forward toward dialogue.  I agree with you both, applaud your foresight, and regret my haste.  Moving on....

Their is an arc of political discussion tracing through the Gorgias right now.  Callicles has posited a Nietzschean, naturalistic theory of political justice which he opposes to that of a conventional politics.  Socrates recaps this position nicely for Callicles' approval:

Socrates: Now take it up again for me from the beginning.  How do both you and Pindar say the just stands--the just according to nature, that is?  That the stronger carry off by violence the weaker men's things, that the superior rule the worse men, and that the better have more than the lowlier?

Callicles: Indeed I said these things then and I say them now.  (488b)

Socrates instead defends justice (But is the just not always-already the political?  Must not one be just or unjust to the other person, other persons, to oneself who is always-already embedded in and informed by political relations?) in a more "conventional," democratic manner, which advocates for equality of distribution and respect for law.  Before I move on, I should note that I use the term political here in a particular way, a way that we cannot avoid addressing in this class before talking about strictly governmental or ideological politics. A definition of politics from Merriam-Webster online explains my thought: "the total complex of relations between people living in society" (Politics, definition 5a).  Callicles and Socrates differ on this fundamental fact of human life, the political, to which we are always submitted never by choice and always by default.

Is there something to Callicles' outlook?  For instance, are our political, business, and social leaders naturally predisposed to lead?  Are community leaders?  These are often very popular, and sometimes very well-paid figures, who are supposedly indefinitely capable of rallying the masses and moving toward political "progress."  Should they receive more?  Seemingly this naturalistic outlook could (and perhaps has and will) devolve into totalitarianism, and one could easily argue monarchy to be its relic.  Do we witness its derivatives today?  Is the world or even our country moving toward greater parity, like Socrates would advocate?  Does American democracy see its practitioners, perhaps more capable by inheritance or personality, tempering their strengths in order to, well, democratize?

To be more particular for discussion of the book: What does the act of dialogue signify about the political and, by proxy, justice?  Moreover, what does the idea and recurrence of convention, of law in general signify about the political?  Do we always push toward the political in harmony?  The act of dialogue presumes an interlocutor, a fellow speaker who is on my level. 

Much of this discussion rests on justice and the idea of submitting to justice.  But justice is always-already preceded by the political and is a master strand of the same rope. 

 

Not-knowing is true knowledge.
Presuming to know is a disease.
First realize that you are sick;
then you can move toward health.

The Master is her own physician.
She has healed herself of all knowing.
Thus she is truly whole.  (Tao Te Ching)

This is chapter 71 of the Tao Te Ching, which in a way expresses Socrates own views towards knowledge.  (Interestingly it also employs the metaphor of health and medicine which Socrates often draws on.)  Socrates often seeks not to expel ignorance but false-knowledge.  But is this practical?  Socrates often makes little ground in convincing his interlocutors to change their views, rather he critiques their judgments but is unable to offer anything of much substance in place.  If, in fact, it is true that his interlocutors are misinformed why doesn't Socrates' truth set them free, why do they remain unconvinced of the truth?  Socrates seems to revel in ignorance, he is often remembered for the sentiment that is revealed when he says "the things I say I certainly don't say with any knowledge at all" (506a).  But can he really expect others to feel the same.  Ignorance isn't bliss, ignorance of ignorance is bliss.  However, after being convinced of our ignorance by Socrates we are no longer awarded the luxury of this innocence.  If we are to escape the chasm of ignorance into which we are cast by Socrates, what foothold are we to use to hoist ourselves up, whose hand is extended to grasp, surely not Socrates'.

I think this is why his interlocutors do not sway in their positions, they would maintain their beliefs in order to have firm foundations for pragmatic, meaningful actions rather than stumble blindly in a chasm of ignorance.  Callicles, at least, vehemently chastises Socrates for such (482c-486d).

This leads me to question the philosophical life in general.  If we are too busy questioning and doubting things, trying to show the contradictions of things and finding flaws in things are we missing something else?  Is philosophy simply a search for ignorance?  Does philosophy leave us inept for a purposeful life?  Or rather should it provide the things needed for a meaningful life?  If this is so, is what Socrates is doing really philosophy?

Sara Brill, Associate Professor of Philosophy at Fairfield University, joins me for episode 13 of the Digital Dialogue. Sara graduated from the Philosophy Department here at Penn State in 2004, where she wrote her dissertation with John Sallis entitled, Hygieia: Health and Medicine in Plato's Republic. Since graduating, she has published numerous articles on Plato and Ancient Greek tragedy, including "Medical Moderation in Plato's Symposium", published in Studies in the History of Ethics, 2006; "Violence and Vulnerability in Aeschylus' Suppliants" in a 2009 volume edited by William Wians entitled Logos and Mythos: Philosophical Essays in Greek Literature; and "Politics and Exoribitant Platonism", published in Epoché, 2009.

In this episode of the Digital Dialogue, we discuss the relationship between the Platonic conception of the soul and the political dimensions of the Phaedo, in particular. We also discuss the question of how Plato uses myths to capture something of the violence and vulnerability endemic to the human condition.

Digital Dialogue 13 with Sara Brill: Psyche and Politics

To subscribe to the Digital Dialogue via iTunesU, click here.

Related Resources

• People interested in the Phaedo myth should take a look at 107c-115a; in the Republic, the myth of Er (of course) from 614b-621d; and for the Laws, the series of preludes against impiety that take up most of Book 10, from 888a-907d.
• Sara Brill's current CV (pdf).
  

Is education stronger than fate?

I wonder where our lives would lead if we did not all attend school and were educated. Would we still lead successful lives? Is happiness dependent on being educated? What makes me wonder is when Polus is challenging Chaerepon and says, "For experience causes our life to proceed by art, whereas inexperience causes it to proceed by chance" (448 c). Some types of "art" he makes references to are those such as being a doctor and a painter. It is common sense that if one practices something and has experience than they will progress and become good at it; thus receiving some sort of accomplishment and reward in their lives.

But is this what success is?

I am assuming that Polus is saying in order for one to be successful, it is through "art". To me, "inexperience" is perhaps another word for laziness, indifference, and lack of passion; all things associated with unsuccessfulness. If we are "inexperienced" however, will we not live as good of lives because we lack the drive? He says with inexperience, it is "chance" that leads us through the paths of our lives.

But what is so wrong with chance?

If I am not mistaken, the Greeks did believe in destiny and fate. So why is chance being portrayed us an unreliable, bad thing? Personally, I believe that no matter how educated we are, we still cannot twist or turn the outcomes of fate. It is a much much stronger than ourselves and our minds. But I am left wondering, if we did not go to school and pursue careers or "arts" like doctors, lawyers, artists, etc. where would our lives lead? Where would chance alone take us? Would we find our own happiness and success without education and accomplishment?

I read all of the recent entries on the Socratic description of dialogue as well as their respective comment threads and decided that I wanted to respond similarly to all of them.  I figured that there is no more conspicuous way to respond to multiple threads than to simply initiate a new post.

My claim (my question) is simple: Is Socrates himself a rhetorician?  To the point, does he disguise his rhetoric under the guise of the face-to-face -- under the hospitable visage of dialogue?  Two specific examples are emblematic of my fears that he might.  First, after his exposition of the analogy of "as cosmetic is to gymnastic, so is sophistry to the legislative art; and as cookery is to medicine, so is rhetoric to justice" (465c), Socrates excuses his monologue:

Perhaps, then, I have done a strange thing in that, not permitting you to make lengthy speeches, [Polus,] I have myself extended a long speech.  It is then appropriate to pardon me; for when I spoke briefly, you did not understand, and you were able to make no use of the answer that I gave you, but needed a full description.  So then, when you are answering, if I too do not know what use to make of it, you too extend your speech; but if I do, let me make use of it; for that is just. (465e-466a, my emphasis)

But what does this indicate?  Is Socrates merely benefiting the dialogue with his drawn-out explanation, or is this significant of manipulation?  Is Socrates able "to make use of" Polus' pithy responses because of his advanced ability to persuade, to manipulate the idiosyncrasies of language--and not merely language but explanation, even example itself?  For instance, and this is the second disturbing example for me, let us consider this exchange:

Socrates: Now first let us consider this: does doing injustice therefore surpass suffering injustice in pain, and do the doers of injustice feel more pain than the sufferers of injustice?
Polus: Surely this, Socrates, is not at all the the case.
Socrates: Therefore it does not exceed in pain.
Polus: Indeed not. [We see Polus here, inevitably and in the current of his ignorance, like the "power" of tyrants, losing consciousness of the qualities of shamefulness, that is to say pain and badness.]
Socrates: So then if not in pain, it would further not surpass in both.
Polus: It appears not.
Socrates: So what remains then is surpassing in the other.
Polus: Yes.
Socrates: In badness. (475c)

But is this necessarily the case?  Those who have read to this point know that the qualities of this badness are not offered.  So it is that Socrates, in leading the naive Polus so tightly along his [Socrates'] stringent dialogical track, is able to obfuscate the depth of this "badness." Polus drops this -- chooses not to explore the labryinths tracing through this badness.  He does not take advantage of the opening in the dialogue -- which is there at every turn if one is methodical and respectful of dialogue's cadence -- in order to challenge Socrates to announce badness--to expose its depths.

So I ask again: Is Socrates a rhetorician?  If so, does this do violence to dialogue?  At the very least, does it blur the lines between our discussed dichotomy of display and dialectic?  Indeed, Socrates is not altogether ornamental in his speech, but he is highly calculating and, it seems, manipulative, in both the negative and positive connotations of that word, i.e. in both the underhanded fashion and the fashion of craftsmanship.

               Gorgias is a totally different dialogue than Protagoras not only in their format, but also in the topics they address to. In the one we studied earlier, Socrates is more like a student who seeks an answer of his philosophical questions; on the other hand, the Socrates in Gorgias is more like a candidate who tries to prove his own argument. In this case, he presents what he feels towards rhetors: for him, rhetoric is simply the art of converting people, even though the speaker himself may not have any clue of why he needs to persuade people. By criticizing the rhetorical people bitterly, what Plato thinks towards the rhetors is presented clearly. 

In the beginning of Gorgias, Gorgias describes what exactly it is that he is teaching:

Gorgias: That which is in truth, Socrates, the greatest good and the cause both of freedom for human beings themselves and at the same time of rule over others in each man's own city.

Socrates: What then do you say this is?

Gorgias: I for one say it is being able to persuade by speeches judges in the law court, councilors in council, assemblymen in assembly, and in every other gathering whatsoever, when there is a political gathering. And indeed with this power you will have the doctor as your slave; and that moneymaker of yours will be plainly revealed to be making money for another and not himself, but for you who can speak and persuade multitudes. (452d-452e)

If what Gorgias says is true, then Gorgias truly has a very valuable ability to teach. He even goes on to say that in a contest of speech on medicine, he could defeat a doctor, using nothing more than his rhetoric. Gorgias also points out that his ability in particular affects the uneducated masses, which he refers to as "the mob." This is a very important point for Gorgias to make. His target is not necessarily to change the mind of the person he is debating, but rather influence the masses listening to the debate. He doesn't need to convince the doctor, just the majority of people listening. Gorgias's rhetoric seems to thrive on ignorance - something Socrates clearly abhors. But is this thriving on the ignorance of others to win a debate really something "just" as Gorgias maintains? Isn't justice part of "the good" and ignorance not, so therefore Rhetoric can be neither just nor good? Or is it morally ambiguous, depending on the intent of the speaker?

I often consider the courtroom as the place where issues of justice are decided, and ideally where justice is on the whole maintained and asserted.  Let's look and see what Gorgias and Socrates offer on this subject:

Gorgias: "The persuasion I mean, Socrates, is the kind that takes place in law courts and in those other large gatherings, as I was saying a moment ago.  And it's concerned with those matters that are just and unjust." (Gorgias, 454b)
...
Socrates: "So evidently oratory is a producer of conviction-persuasion and not of teaching-persuasion concerning what's just and unjust." (Gorgias, 455a)

If this is true, in my opinion, courtrooms function rather despicably.  I find it rather disheartening and unnerving to think of those persons who are active in a court room to be trying issues not on knowledge but conviction.  Are our courts really the sanctuaries of justice that I idealize or is this simply a delusion?  Does this perhaps allude to the nature of justice in general?  Is it merely a chimera of the courtroom?

Joni, Josh, and Mike discuss this week's reading from "Gorgias" and also discuss the debate's nature within the text.

Weekly Roundup #3.mp3

For the sake of discussion, I'm going to pull out an aspect of the discussion going on here - "Do the ends justify the means?" - http://www.personal.psu.edu/cpl2/blogs/digitaldialogue/2009/09/do-the-ends-justify-the-means.html#idc-container - and ask a mirrored question.

Often in issues such as Human Rights we are faced with issues that more or less boil down to "how do we get people involved?"* In many books, stories, et cetera, there is a certain falsification of what is going on, of which I'll give examples later, to get the audience to react and get involved in some way they might not have otherwise.

For example, in the book Barefoot Gen we are shown and told that his sister is alive and trapped under a collapsing building with the rest of Gen's family (baring his mother) even though she actually died immediately in the explosion that caused the collapse. The building completely collapses within a few minutes of the explosion, killing those trapped within.This isn't a major change from reality, but it is still lying.

On a similar note, in the Testimonial I, Rigoberta Menchu she says that she was there when her brother was publically burned to death. As was later uncovered she wasn't there in our western sense of presense, but her mother was. Their culture has a very unified understanding of the self, and there is very little distinction between what occurs between those who are integrated as a community. Perhaps this is just a difference in how we percieve what occurs to 'us.' but many would still call it dishonesty.

The effects of these changes are minimal, possibly, but I suppose it just leaves the question - "What is acceptable, then?" What if changing one rather insignificant event would be the difference between having a moderate level of support versus none at all? Similarly, how much change is the 'point' where it becomes unacceptable? 

Perhaps these examples are extreme in the sense that they are extremely gray areas, but I think we have a slew of very decent minds that have many different opinions that could at least shed some light on the differing sides of the argument.

I hope I'm not spreading out the discussion out too much by putting this into another post, but I feel like it would distract too much from Pam's point.

*(for those of you who are/have taken Human Rights in Literature, I am drawing the books from that class, yes)

Today in class we discussed the differences between dialogue and the dialectic as a kind of dialogue, and overall, how differentiating the two could help us further understand the nature of dialogue in Platonic texts. Socrates favors the dialectic method in which brief yet concise questions and answers make up the dialogue between him and his interlocutors. However, how adequate is the dialectical method? It may be better than long prepared speeches like those of Gorgias as "it authentically engages the interlocutors" as Daniel finely pointed out in class today. Yet doesn't this method also have its drawbacks? Short dialogue can potentially disallow one to articulate their ideas in a way in which they may require lengthy and detailed explanations. We all know that short talks are harder to prepare and deliver than long ones. Furthermore, the dialectical method forces one to take responsibility for what they say, allowing Socrates to trap his interlocutors. Is this fair?

Furthermore, Socrates' seemingly inadequacy to adjust his own personal preferences with regards to dialogue, proposing the only way he can converse with others (Gorgias, Polus, Protagoras, etc) is through this short answer/question method is somewhat frustrating. Why cannot Socrates play by the rules of his "opponents" and always feel the need to demand his own stakes? In Protagoras and Gorgias, when both sophist and rhetorician drag into lengthy speeches, Socrates throws a baby fit and threatens to leave the conversation. In turn, in Gorgias, Callicles' refusal to take a stand throws Socrates off and forces him to go into lengthy speeches himself in order to make his point. Socrates' refusal to be lenient and play by the rules of others tells me in the least that he isn't so open with ideas as I thought he was. There are several strategies Socrates uses to enable him to transform his listeners' way of thinking, such as his use of the dialectic method. Yet, my question is, is it a fair method and is it satisfactory?

The first two lines of the Gorgias run:

"Callicles: This is how you're supposed to turn up when there's a war on or a battle to be fought, Socrates.
Socrates: You mean we've done the proverbial thing and arrived when the feast is over? Are we too late?" (447A)

As we discussed in class, this is meant as an insult to Socrates from Callicles and Socrates responds in turn by turning the insult around on Callicles by calling what he missed a "feast" instead of some form of battle. What I propose, as I did in class, is not that this is simply a turning of phrase to dull the barb on Callicles' statement, but instead is meant as an comparison; Plato, through the mouths of Socrates and Callicles is equating the two. The Greeks, as I mentioned in class, view war as a great and glorious activity, but it is not a simple individualistic activity. This is where I propose the concept of feast is being incorporated: war is a communal activity. When the Greeks won the war against Troy, while there were individual heroes (such as Achilles or Odysseus), it was truly a victory of the community, which points to the community activity of a feast.

Another possibility that occurred to me is that Socrates may not be equating the two, instead he is commenting on the battle to come. It was common Greek practice, from my understanding (someone can either correct or confirm me on this, I'm not 100% sure), that before a major battle or war was to be fought a great feast was held in preparation for the battle, as a sort of celebration to the gods in hope of victory. So, when Socrates calls what he had missed a "feast" he may, in fact, be telling Callicles that the true battle is yet to come. This particular point could be of great importance, as it could determine the very way in which the text is read. If Socrates went to Gorgias with the intent of battle, it is possible that the entire text could be looked as an antagonistic dialogue, which could discredit what is being said as an attempt to show up the other side, and not to be taken for a necessarily serious philosophical statement.

What do others think?

"Well, Gorgias, oratory seems to me to be a pursuit which has nothing to do with art, but which requires a shrewd and bold spirit naturally clever at dealing with people. The generic name which I should give it is pandering." (Gorgias; 463 a-b)

Today I was pondering how, in Gorgias, Socrates argues that rhetoric is basically the act of pandering and distorting facts for self-interest. In general, this is a common criticism of rhetoric as an art. For example, one might say that rhetoricians aren't concerned with the betterment of citizens, and instead they focus on persuading the public to serve their own self-interests -- which may or may not actually be good for the world. In this way, masters of rhetoric are potentially powerful and dangerous.

But my question is: if you're trying to convince people to support your cause in "saving the world," is it justified to use words as a manipulation? That is, do the ends justify the means?

For example, say you truly believe that the world would be a WORSE place if a new health care bill was passed. You think that it'll drive the deficit to unimaginable numbers, it'll hurt the doctors, the quality of medicine will decrease, whatever your reasons may be. Now pretend you're a talk show host and you have the access to thousands, maybe millions, of minds who drink your every word. At first, you try to approach things from a logical perspective using the reasons above. And that works to a point. But you know that it'll be much more effective if you exaggerate a little bit.

Instead of approaching it from a practical standpoint, you cry "Socialism!" and scare your listeners into believing it's not right for the country. Instead of using reason, you decide to embellish a little bit and choose your words to invoke fear. You get the same desired result as you would using reason, just quicker. So, do the ends justify the means?

Your means may have been scaring the public into unfounded horror of the government taking over everything, but in the end you get what makes the world a better place (you think): no health care reform. This is the VERY SAME END you were hoping to get by approaching the issue from a logical perspective. You just got it done in much less time by approaching it from a McCarthyist standpoint.

I'm just trying to put myself in the perspective of a vigorous opposition of a cause. If you TRULY believe the world will be a better place if x occurs, then why NOT just use rhetoric to manipulate the public into thinking so? If you can make the world a better place by using words as manipulation, why not do it? Again, do the ends justify the means? And I'm not even necessarily talking about just rhetoric. In general, even if the means are un-ethical, if the end is positive, then does it matter how you get there? I'm interested in your opinions :)

As we begin our discussion of Gorgias, we are once again presented with determining the nature of dialogue.

In Protagoras, we see a young, eager Socrates, who looks to wise Protagoras to help lead to a deeper truth. While the subject of their dialogue took center stage, the surrounding nature of the dialogue was dominated by a struggle to find a common mode of discourse. Conflict arose over the means of the dialogue, with various presentations of long speeches and short, concise series of question and answers. But they endeavor together to achieve a greater understanding of their common area of examination.

We see a very different mode of dialogue in Gorgias. As we discussed in class, the dialogue has an immediate agonisitic tone that is set. Sides are immediately drawn and the characters are aligned in opposition to one another. As stated in the footnote ("2 The very first word of this dialogue on rhetoric is war",), a combative and aggressive precedent is set from the very beginning.

Once we get past the eager volatile banter of Polus and Chaepheron, Socrates and Gorgias delve into a serious conversation. Socrates is much older and experienced in this dialogue, and he immediately determines the mode of discourse. He demands that Gorgias engage in this dialogue in a very specific way. He says, "Make a display for me of precisely this, brief speaking, and put off the lengthy speaking until afterwards," (449c). Socrates very aggressively outlines how this dialogue is going to take place. Surprisingly enough, Gorgias gives his consent with no reservations and they begin their discussion.

Soon, however, it becomes clear that Gorgias insolently gave his consent. Socrates' style of dialogue depends upon the other to push back and give resistance. Through this mode of argumentation, deeper understanding and insight arises. Gorgias, however, seems to simply be giving Socrates the answers he wants with no voluntary elaboration. His answers are very simplistic and he does not push back in the way that Socrates' style of discourse demands. Socrates' aggression seems to have launched a one-sided discussion that has little, if any, ability to discern any deeper truth or understanding.

I hope (and believe) that the nature of this dialogue will evolve as we continue with the text. But I think that the nature of dialogue is a very dynamic and pervasive thing that is important of which to take note.

In reflecting on the nature of dialogue, I am reminded of Toni Morrison's Nobel Lecture. I was introduced to the lecture in Dr. Colapietro's Philosophy of Language course. The lecture tells the story of a wise old blind woman who engages in a stilted dialogue with some young children. At the conclusion of the story, the wise woman says, "Look. How lovely it is, this thing we have done - together." I often think of this quote when examining the dynamism of dialogue. It is this aspect of dialogue - of striving together for a deeper understanding - that has the most value, and it is my hope that we continue to stress this as we continue our dialogue together.

(Toni Morrison's Nobel Lecture can be found here: http://nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/1993/morrison-lecture.html)

As we enter the dialogue of the Gorgias we find the famous sophist seemingly exposing himself to the intellectual incursions of others.  He allows for this to show that he is not only adept in stylistic speeches but is quite capable of extemporaneous delivery as well.  However, in 448a he states that "no one has asked me anything new in many a year," which betrays the sentiment that he really is improvising his answers.  On the other hand we know very well that Socrates has used similar lines of questioning before, so in some way his contribution to the dialogue is prepared as well.  So, I'm wondering if we/they can really expect to discover anything new when both parties are working with prepared material.  Although, it just occurred to me that maybe Socrates expects that Gorgias is not familiar with the questions he will be asking, and therefore he will be given genuine answers.  In that case, should we scorn Socrates for having prepared his side of the dialogue?

We talked today in PHIL 200 about the distinction between an overarching agonism or "war" mentality in the beginning of the Gorgias in comparison to a measured dialogical or "feast" mentality embodied by Socrates, who cares to avoid display and instead desires to enter into an intimate conversation.  As I am currently reading Jacques Derrida's "Violence and Metaphysics," an expository/critical essay (chiefly) on Emmanuel Levinas' Totality and Infinity, I cannot help but draw a parallel between Levinas' philosophy of the Other (and his attempted disruption of the tradition of Dasein and its solitude) and Socrates' dialogical approach.

Derrida highlights early on in the essay Levinas' critique of Martin Heidegger's view of Mitsein, the "Being-with" that an individual Being (Dasein) is subject to.  This connotes the idea that (individual) Being is always-already with others, and that this is a fact of its external existence.  I cannot speak too much for Heidegerrian philosophy, so I will not turn to the interior of Dasein, but it is at least clear that Heidegger surely expresses a Being-with others.  On this matter Levinas challenges Heidegger directly.  Derrida states Levinas' thoughts: "Now, 'we hope to show, for our part, that it is not the preposition mit [with] which must describe the original relation with the other.' Beneath solidarity, beneath companionship, before Mitsein, which would be only a derivative and modified form of the originary relation with the other, Levinas already aims for the face-to-face, the encounter with the face" ("Violence and Metaphysics" 90, emphasis mine, internal quote Levinas's).  It seems to me that this is the direction in which Socrates heads.  Before being simply with Others, among them, moving in the same direction, or for that matter turning in the direction of hostility toward them (which seems derivative of Being-with in that it presumes a solidarity to be disrupted), Socrates wishes to acknowledge the Other in intimacy, in fact is erotically drawn to certain Others, such as Gorgias.  He is compelled to converse and challenge -- face-to-face -- acknowledging the unique complection of his Other in conversation.  He is of course welcoming and hospitable to the political viewpoint, and never denies his audience or his companions, but it seems accurate to say that he is intent on personal engagement. 

This is a simplicity of Levinas' philosopy, and in fact he would not appreciate the parallel.  But for the sake of discussion I would like to ask what everybody thinks about Socrates' relation to the Other.  Does he have a primordial view of being called by the Other, i.e. does he feel an obligation to the Other?  Maybe an obligation to help the Other (along with himself) toward the revelation of philosophical truths?  Is this his "feast" mentality?  Levinas would call us, as individual existents, hostages to the Other.  Do you think this is an accurate description?  By distinguishing between being with and being face-to-face we would acknowledge a third party [outside of (hypothetical) me and the Other] that complicates things.  Does this make us inattentive to particular Others' needs, or even his/her unique existence?  Is this the political?  Again, this is simplifying Levinas, but it seems like there is more general wisdom to be gleaned and I would be interested to hear what each of you thinks about Socrates' unique attention to dialogue and eroticism toward the other person.  Also, feel free to correct me if you think that I misstated Heidegger's ideas.  This was a simplicity as well from what is a crucial thinker's entire philosophical outlook. 

In the most recent Digital Dialogue entitled "Eros and Democracy," a conversation with Mark Munn, Dr. Long made some statements which I find to be especially pertinent to the topic of our class. As either it is impossible, or I have not been able to figure out how, to rewind/fast-forward the audio player for the dialogue I will have to paraphrase these statements (in other words, feel free to call to it to my attention if I have caricatured/butchered what you said in the Dialogue). Dr. Long states that Socrates, although he may attempt to extract an account of the Good from his interlocutors, does not have an account of the Good himself; or, at least not a determinate conception of the Good. Instead, Socrates is more interested in turning others toward the Good and, this I believe is the central point, in the process of this turning one is already on a move toward the Good.

These considerations give rise to two interrelated questions which I think are vital for understanding the nature of Socratic politics.

1. What exactly is meant by an indeterminate conception of the Good? 
2. What does it meant to "turn someone toward the good," as opposed to simply teaching or transmitting a conception of the Good?

Each of these questions will be considered here in turn. With regards to the first question it seems that this returns us to the concept of techne and the "logic of fabrication" which were discussed early in the class. In Of Art and Wisdom: Plato's Understanding of Techne, David Roochnik provides a thorough discussion of the role that techne plays throughout the Socratic dialogues. After recounting the history of the notion of techne in Greek thought Roochnik makes a distinction between what he calls techne1 and techne2. Furthermore, he provides a list of criterion which distinguishes each of these. Without fully reproducing these lists here it can be said that techne1 is analogous to a strict interpretation of the logic of fabrication. A techne1 contains a determinate subject matter which must be practiced by an expert. Furthermore, insofar as it displays such determinacy its results are reliable and its methods are teachable (Roochnik, 44). The paradigm for this type techne is that of the precision involved in mathematics (Roochnik, 50). The example of the shoemaker we have been utilizing in class falls under this category. In this craft there is a clearly defined goal which does not come about without the particulars skills of the shoemaker. Additionally, its methods are sufficiently stable to the point that it can be effectively taught. Perhaps what is most important for our purposes here is the conception of the reliability of techne. This reliability is manifest in a relationship between a techne's function and end; consequently, in the case of techne1 "its function is identical to its end" (Roochnik, 45). The shoemaker's function is to produce shoes and he or she is evaluated by precisely whether this end is brought about. This can be understood more clearly when it is contrasted with techne2. Techne2 is exemplified by the practice of medicine. Several considerations of medicine differentiate it from a techne1 like shoemaking; for instance, sometimes those who become ill become better without seeing a doctor thereby questioning the necessity of a physician (Roochnik, 44). Additionally, "the results of medicine are not entirely reliable; some patients who are treated are not cured" (Roochnik, 44). Here we see that in techne2 its function, treating patients, is not wholly identical with the end, curing patients.

The question then becomes under which category, if either, does the political techne, or turning toward the Good, fall. For Roochnik the answer is neither, but instead techne falls within the form of "non-technical" knowledge. In his introduction he recounts what he calls the "Standard Account of Techne" (SAT) and attributes this view to the majority of contemporary Plato scholars. According to this view, Socrates believes the model of technical knowledge which was espoused above can also used within the realm of technical knowledge (Roochnik, 6). A practitioner of virtue using more or less reliable methods (depending on whether it is considered techne1 or techne2) will be able to more or less reliably produce virtue. The reason for this account seems to be that Socrates often attempts to force his interlocutors into the techne analogy when discussing the nature of virtue. Roochnik cites an example from the Apology when Socrates explains that for the excellence of a horse a trainer is needed and then goes on to question Callias who, in an analogical fashion, is necessary for the excellence of a human (Roochnik, 2). This would seem to suggest that Socrates believes that virtue fits into the techne analogy.

However, Roochnik takes very seriously both the fact that Plato's dialogues end in aporia (Roochnik, 89) and that Plato wrote dialogues (Roochnik, 105). The fact that Plato's interlocutors fail to fit virtue within the concept of techne and that the dialogues end in aporia may actually suggest the Plato did not take this to be a proper paradigm for moral knowledge. Furthermore, the fact Plato wrote dialogues is significant because the dialogue form is, according to Roochnik, "the ideal vehicle with which to express nontechnical knowledge" (Roochnik, 106). The fact that an application of the techne analogy to virtue leads to aporia signifies the indeterminacy in Socrates concept of the Good and suggests an answer to question (1). The indeterminacy of the Good is found in that fact that it has no definite means or ends. It is not a techne1, or even a techne2, insofar as its end cannot be precisely articulated.

Those who practice virtue, whatever this would ultimately mean, cannot in advance of their undertaking have a precise conception of their final goal. It is here that we encounter question (2) and where the fact that Plato wrote dialogues becomes central. In the absence of a determinate notion of the Good we are forced to consider the role of dialogical processes. Perhaps the fact that Plato used the form of dialogue points to the central role that discussion plays in the political undertaking. For instance, the change of mind that both Socrates and Protagoras experience through the course of their discussion may point to the transformative power of discussion. Insofar as the Good is not a determinate conception its must be worked out within the sphere of social discussion. It is in these instances that the significance of earlier italicized phrase becomes manifest. To recognize the indeterminacy of the Good, and by implication the necessity of dialogue, is already a move toward accessing the Good to the extent that this can be accomplished.

In an attempt to implement a collaborative research model in the PHIL553 graduate seminar and to offer the undergraduates doing work in the area access to the results of our collaborative research, I have set up a group library for references related to Socratic Politics on Zotero.

Zotero is a free and easy-to-use Firefox extension that allows us to collect, manage and cite research sources.  I invite the students in my PHIL553 graduate seminar on Socratic Politics to:

1. Download Firefox if you don't have it installed.
2. Download the Zotero 2.0 Beta Extension for Firefox, which gives you the ability to share libraries and collaborate with others.
3. Join the Socratic Politics Group Library to begin adding resources to our library.

Students in PHIL200 are encouraged to view the library as a possible source of secondary material related to the study of Plato and Socratic Politics as you move toward your final research project.

I am including here a little video introduction to explain what Zotero is:

As I read the beginning of the Gorgias, I perceive that Socrates is a bit impoverished in his conception of an art or discipline.  Socrates says of Gorgias, "...I wish to learn from him what the power of the man's art is, and what it is that he professes and teaches" (447c, emphasis mine).  By alluding to Chaerephon's analogies to the doctor and the painter, Socrates is goading (Polus and) Gorgias to declare in particular what it is he practices, and, incidentally, teaches.  (We see this situation going somewhat the way of the Protagoras.)

To Socrates' credit, Gorgias seems evasive himself, and seems equally ill-equipped with a ready-to-hand response.  But this does not excuse what in my mind is a sort of inelasticity of the Socratic viewpoint.  I am splitting hairs here deliberately.  I know that Socrates is trying to fry bigger fish--in this case, especially the whopping Great White that is justice--and I am going to allow him this.  But I am also going to exploit what I feel is a hypocritical dissimulation on his own part.  It seems to me that rhetoric, the title of the art that Gorgias professes to practice, is a "meta-discipline" of sorts, just as philosophy is.  This discpline is more about form and method, and less about content, and consequently when the Socratic inquiry, "But what is it about?", pops up, there is little recourse to quick explanation.  This is also the case with philosophy.  There are several "Philosophy of..." courses listed on the Penn State docket in any given semester, for example, and there are myriad branches of philosophy [epistemology, ethics, phenomenology, just to name a few (not to mention their respective sub-disciplines)].  So asking what is rhetoric or philosophy about is akin to asking what is education about.  One could respond to the latter inquiry in a very strictly pedagogical manner, saying that education is specifically instruction.  But instruction in what, one might ask?  There are over 160 majors at Penn State alone, for instance, so that would certainly be harder to answer, and would ramify our stream of questioning in several divergent directions.  Moreover, there are those who would argue that education is more paradigmatic, in that it inspires critical thinking and a dynamic thought process that can be used across many fields, rather than simply instructing one in how to perform or excel in a particular discipline.  And that last question takes us in a qualitative direction, i.e. should education train an individual to perform exceedingly well or simply average?  It seems that that's debatable: one would argue that a nuclear engineer had better know his stuff with a fair amount of accuracy, whereas a philosophy major (such as myself) probably doesn't need to be overly equipped to deal with, well, whatever it is that he or she deals with.  What was that again?

You get the picture.  I am simply trying to point out what I imagine to be a bit of myopia on Socrates' part: his practice presumes the dynamism and ineffability that his object of inquiry, namely rhetoric, does.  They are both meta-disciplines in the sense of being beyond particular content and, in some sense, beyond particular expression.  Therefore, it seems hypocritical and almost treasonous for him to press so hard for a bottled-up answer to a boundless question.  I would like to hear everyone's thoughts on this.  I realize that this dialogue is only getting started, but we have to push some proverbial buttons or we'll never get a response from the text.  

The foundation of the argument in Protagoras, as well as in class thus far is what it really means to "be good" and how to learn and obtain all of the components of "being good". Potagoras claims and proves that "being good" is something that can be taught. One of the main and possibly most controversial aspects of being good is pleasure and living a good life as Socrates questions, "So, in other words, to live a pleasant life is good, and to live an unpleasant life is bad?" and Protagoras answers, "Provided you live your life taking pleasure in the things that are honourable- yes" (351 c). 

One of the major points that Plato seems to be trying to make through Socrates in the Protagoras is that 'the good' and 'pleasure' are the same thing. This view is often called 'hedonism'. It is implicit in the text, though fairly unambiguous, that this is one's own personal pleasure, not that of others. This is in contrast to the somewhat similar system of Hedonistic Utilitarianism, in which the goal of ethical action is the production of the most total pleasure among all people, without special regard for the personal pleasure of the acting agent. This prioritization of personal pleasure, in my opinion, makes the system expounded by Socrates late in the Protagoras untenable. I think that an examination of some of our basic intuitions of what it means to act ethically will show this.

In episode 12 of the Digital Dialogue, I am joined by Mark Munn who is Professor of Ancient Greek History, Greek Archaeology, and Classics and Ancient Mediterranean Studies here at Penn State. His central research interest is in Classical Athens and its political and intellectual history.

His book, The School of Athens: Athens in the Age of Socrates is a stunning achievement and an important resource for all of us intent on understanding Greek thinking in the context of the cultural and social history in which it was articulated.

He is also the author of two other books, The Defense of Attica: The Dema Wall and Boiotian War of 378-375 BC, University of California Press, 1993 and The Mother of the Gods, Athens, and the Tyranny of Asia: A Study of Sovereignty in Ancient Religion, University of California Press, 2006.

Our discussion ranges from the agonistic or competitive nature of political discourse in classical Athens, to the political function of eros in the classical period. This later is the focus of Mark Munn's latest book project, which we discuss in the episode as well.

Digital Dialogue 12 with Mark Munn: Eros and Democracy  

This is the 2nd weekly round-up, created by Pam Dorian and Cody Yashinsky.

We discuss media's influence on philosophical discussion, the nature of competition in dialogue, what the Good is, and highlighted specific blog posts we found interesting throughout the week.

PHIL200 Weekly Round-up #2

Ok, short post, but I feel this may be worth looking into:

In class today we discussed in depth peoples' relation to "the Good."  How different cultures have different conceptions of "the Good."  Pleasure versus pain as a measure of "the Good."  Realization of "the Good" through knowledge.  Happiness/the good life/living well as a result of abiding by "the Good."  Etc.

However, as Anthony Z. has repeatedly pointed out, we (including the ancient Greeks) continually just assume that "the Good" exists, which he so lovingly referred to as "blind faith" in another post (although we were discussing god in that post I'm reallocating the term to this context which I think is close enough).  In fact I am not aware that either Socrates or Protagoras ever mentioned faith or any similar concept.  So, my question is: how important is the role of faith in determining "the Good?"  Does faith in anyway diminish or take away from the prominent role that "the Good" plays in our lives?

In today's class (PHIL 200) discussion, I felt as if our treatment of conscience was lacking a certain dimension.  I know I will sound like I am blowing on the same old horn as in my previous post, "Seeking Others (or Others Seeking Us)," but I really do feel as if we are generally too dependent on an autonomous view of the self and the conscience.  For instance, when we discussed the Nazis and the (lack of) conscience, I feel as if we were a bit off-base in where we headed while rationalizing the choice of "sovereign" individuals to contribute to the atrocities.  Let us not get too ahead of ourselves here: Hitler and his anti-Jew campaign did not come in a torrent, but in a trickling stream which eventually swelled into the river of Nazi ideology that we are most familiar with today.  He persuaded and manipulated his way to the top, and ultimately took his premiership in a quasi-violent manner.  It was from this elevated position that he subtly and slowly initiated his aspirations of German supremacy and the master race, which included the marginalization, then expulsion, then ultimately the attempted destruction of "unwanted" or "impure" elements.  The point is, however, is that he already had power before he made such bold strokes in the direction of war and genocide. 

This informs our interpretation of the average Nazi's participation.  At first it was Hitler and his enclave doing the dirty work, and one could argue that not even Hitler knew where the whole campaign was going until it all happened.  While reading some primary sources last semester in my post-Holocaust philosophy course, including the accounts of Adolf Eichmann, I was continuously surprised at how surprised Nazi peons were at the developments within the extermination program.  Many did not see it coming, but they followed nonetheless.  One must understand the mentality in place here, however.  Hitler had already attained an inviolable seat of power.  Whoever challenged was not likely to succed and, moreover, was scared out of his/her wits to try.  In her essay, "On the Concentration Camps," Hannah Arendt explains this fear well.  One of the proficiencies of Nazi totalitarianism was the killing of the moral person, says Arendt.  "This is done in the main," she says, "by making martyrdom, for the first time in history, impossible" (755-6).  The Nazis inculcated their citizens with such a terror of transgression that, were an individual to sacrifice his/herself, it would not carry any symbolic significance, even for the victim's friends or family.  "Grief and remembrance are forbidden," says Arendt (756).  In other words, death becomes anonymous (756).  She gives the example of Soviet women who, upon learning of the death of their political criminal husbands, immediately proceeded to remarry without even the smallest window of mourning.  "In a sense they took away the individual's own death," Arendt continues, "proving that henceforth nothing belonged to him and he belonged to no one.  His death merely set a seal on the fact that he had never really existed" (756).  To ensure even further the death of morality, the Nazis constantly offered alternatives of one evil versus another.  A mother might be offered the choice of which of her children would be killed (as Camus noted of a Greek woman).  A man might decide whether his friends or his family was to die.  We get the picture.

This is meant to demonstrate that our conscience is often much dependent upon forces outside of ourselves.  This can either be to the good, as Arendt notes of Socrates' daemon, his active conscience, or to the bad, as the stifling of morality which the Nazis perpetrated was.  I know this will probably sound terrible to most.  No, I am not advocating the theory that we are all infinitely impressionable and prey to a "majority rules" mentality.  Rather, what I might be heading toward is the responsible development of an at least partially heteronomous conscience which fortifies our righteous values (a topic for another discussion) and allows us to endure under oppressive circumstances and flourish under open circumstances.  Our conscience is informed from outside, but operates within.  One could say that once dialogue has penetrated beneath the surface, it is the responsibility of the individual to deliberate its import. 

Any thoughts?

What really causes the debate?

Before arguing whether good can be taught, one has to have a clear understanding of what exactly good is. The different definitions of it are what really cause Socrates and Protagoras to debate. For Protagoras, good is defined as doing what the common people is doing such as going to school everyday; thus it can be taught. For example, all students can choose not to study; however, if they do it, someone is going to punish them for this action, which they consider bad. Not going to school is not necessarily bad, but since most people are doing this, it is considered wrong not to follow. On the other hand, the second form of good, as Socrates believes, is to judge an action based on its effect and say it is good when it benefits one-self or the society. For example, even though the exist of mosquitoes is not good or bad to the biological nature, especially when they also take part in the food chain and keep the ecosystem balanced, we still think them as an fantastic example of vermin. In this case, good cannot be taught even though people might know it is wrong to do something. These different understandings of good really make Protagoras and Socrates different in their point of views.

Protagoras's opinion is clearly presented when he presents himself with a story. In the story, when Zeus sees the people are vanishing, he worriedly "asked Hermes to take down to people a sense of right and wrong"(322B). He also decides to brainwash the people by making them believe that "anyone who proves incapable of acquiring some sense of right and wrong must be thought of as a sickness to society and put to death"(322D). Interestingly, this not only tells that Protagoras does think that one can improve one-self by learning from others, but also provide evidence for Protagoras' ignorance of the nature and his emphasizing of teaching. In later description when discusses the relationship of criminal honesty and madness in 323B. He firmly believes that truth should be respected and truth is something people learn from the outer world. For him, the environment people are raised is far more important in term of the moral of people. He persuades "teachers"(326A), "guidance"(326A) to guide the children in becoming good people by "praise" (326A) and "strive" (326A). In addition, as said in the introduction, the good here is defined as moral values that people learn as they grow up. In other words, they have to behave in certain way so that the society will not reject them. This is like the gesture of biting thumb. In Shakespeare's time, this is considered very provoking so that when people want to annoy somebody, they do it even though the gesture itself means nothing at all; it is people who apply the emotions to it. Similarly, middle finger is another great example of this man-created norm. In the U.S., it is considered wrong to do it while as in mainland China, people will wonder why you give them this gesture because they simply do not understand the background of it. Socrates, on the other hand, pays more attention to the nature of people. In this case, good certainly cannot be taught.

As described in the introduction, Socrates thinks that no matter what the outside is, the nature of one has no quality that makes it good or bad, it depends on the others' judgments. This is why "people, even they are good people themselves, have never made any member of their own family a better man, or anyone else" (320 B). Clearly, people have to learn the good and develop themselves on their own like the Clinias. Nobody else could possibly help them in becoming "good man". In this case, good is more like something people are born with or they have to learn it by themselves, totally irreverent to the others. As Socrates says in 328E, "until now I didn't think it was through other people's care and attention that good people become good people." however, even tough he claims that he is "convinced...except, that is, for one little thing that's bothering me", he does not realize that he is not convinced totally by him. That is why he thinks after he says, "convinced". When he finds something to argue back, he is so happy that he just delivers a long speech, which brings another intensive debate. What causes the difference? Obviously, his understanding of good is totally different from that of Protagoras. As he described in his context, good is something that naturally exist no matter what.

Is it the mental or physical component of people which causes superiority amongst others?

While explaining the song, Socrates says,

It's just that they claim not to have any interest in it and put on this big show of being morons... because they don't want anyone to figure out that it's really their philosophical expertise that gives them the upper hand over other Greeks. They want people to think that their superiority rests on fighting battles and being manly, because they reckon that if people realized what really gave them their edge- philosophy- then everyone would start trying to get good at it (342b).

Why would these people put up a front and hide away their wisdom and knowledge? I could understand that they do not want this "expertise" to leak out so that everyone would then try to excel at it; but how can this internal knowledge shine through and advance them purely in physical actions? They are fooling everybody because to society, their "expertise" can merely be interpreted and viewed as skill and fighting in war. However, I don't see the correlation between the two. Someone can be brilliant, but uncoordinated physically. I could see how somebody with philosophical expertise could have great influence and say on the ideas, causes, and purposes of war, but not necessarily with the actual fighting.

Do these certain groups of people actually like knowing they have the upper hand intellectually over society, or, could it be that these people are taking advantage of having this status and further, are able to be portrayed in such a "manly" perspective. Is this why they are so secretive about their special possession? Maybe they want to prevent others from pursuing this expertise so they won't have competition for the "superiority" of society (which in this case is the title of "fighting battles", strength, etc).

In this era, and to these people, it is more worth it to be recognized as "fighting battles" than by "philosophical expertise"? Not only in Ancient Greece but throughout history and in the present world are people glorified for bravery and perseverance. Think about great books, movies, tales, and legends you have heard, learned about, or seen. Are ones that come to mind about epic wars and heros who fought and endured battles until they earned a great victory? Or are they about innovators whose great minds brought about some sort of philosophical or social change? There is no correct answer, and of course responses will vary from person to person. However, I am willing to say that a majority of the people would agree that the first one more so came to mind.

In our culture and others around the world, we tend to glorify physical strength, power, and endurance. We admire bravery and perseverance, because maybe not every average human being possesses these things, but heroes do. Look at the worldwide attention and mass media of sports entertainment, for example, where we watch athletes demonstrate this type of strength and all these other characteristics. We are drawn to it because while we watch, read, hear, or learn about these people and their stories, for that very moment, we are in their shoes and can experience something greater... what they are.

So, were sophists this intellectually advanced taking advantage and pursuing their high stance based on fighting and battle because they liked being viewed in the "manly" light? Did they really not want their secret to get out because they took pride in having it only themselves, or, is it perhaps that others knowing it and achieving it would be a threat to their masculine, noble stance? Was it more rewarding to be seen as a war hero than a philosophical expert? On the whole, do we as a society tend to treasure and admire those advanced physically or mentally?

Protagoras and Socrates frequently discuss on the matter of whether people willfully  are "bad". Socrates states, after referring to several lines from Simonide's song, "I pretty much think that no one who knows anything believes that people ever make mistakes willfully or do things that are wrong, or bad for them, willfully. Smart people know fully well that when you do things thats are wrong, or bad for you, you always do without meaning to"(347e). Now i tend to disagree with this. Many people do bad things even though they are fully aware that what they are doing is wrong or "bad" for themselves or others. Drug addicts continue to feed their addiction despite the fact that they know drugs are bad for them and can very possibly lead to the destruction of their lives. People who steal money from others like Bernie Madoff knew exactly what they were doing would seriously hurt the lives of thousand of people but they still continued their schemes. All these people willfully committed acts that they knew were bad for them. 

As we come to the end of the dialogue between Socrates and Protagoras, we should contemplate whether or not the original question has been answered, which was "Can ethics or "the good" be taught?" Or is it possible to teach what Protagoras is selling:

 

"The course I teach is I good decision making, whether it's in his personal life, where the question is how he can best manage his own household, or in public matters, where the aim is to make him as effective as he can be at handling and debating the affairs of his city" (318e-319a).

 

Socrates doesn't agree, and over the course of the dialogue the two engage in a back and forth exchange to establish exactly what "the good" is and to decide if it is in fact teachable. At the end of the dialogue, Socrates sums up the debate:

 

"...'Protagoras and Socrates! You two guys are so silly! You, Socrates, earlier on, were claiming that you can't make people good by teaching them, and now you're determined to contradict yourself. You're trying to prove everything...that they're all just a matter of knowledge; which is exactly the way to make it seem that being good is something that can be taught...And you, Protagoras, you started off by claiming it could be taught, and now you're saying the complete opposite; you seem desperate for it to turn out to be practically anything but knowledge, which is just the way to make it look as unteachable as possible'" (361a-c).

 

The competition between the two has blurred both of their original viewpoints. They have, by the end of the dialogue, begun to debate points that were undermining their original arguments. While they are able to some to some sort of middle ground and agreement, the competition -- the need to win -- has caused both men to go off topic and nearly forget exactly what they were arguing about originally. This often happens in a debate, where the two parties go off-topic to try to prove the other wrong, and by the end they have digressed so far from the original discussion that their new arguments have no bearing on the original question. Luckily, Socrates was able to recognize this at the end and come to good terms with Protagoras.

 

So here's the question: Did Socrates and Protagoras really answer whether civics/ethics/ "the good" be taught? Or did the nature of the competition drive them away from the original question in such a way that nothing was conclusively answered?

Yesterday in class we went off on a small tangent about how one must be 'absolutely certain' in their argument for one to be able to express it to other people with conviction. I think this perfectly mimics the conversation that followed where there was a comparing and contrasting of the two forms of discussion - that in which two people try to beat one another in a battle of wits, and that which requires two people to travel together on an intellectual journey so they can both come out bettered.

I must say that I think the idea of being absolutely convicted in your argument nearly requires that the first form of discussion take place. I wouldn't say it is unacceptable for someone to think that their idea is the best, otherwise why would they think them? I do not, however, think that by becoming totally engrained in our own ideas is a proper route to take in search of higher truths. To one who is totally convicted, they become dogmatic of their own ideas, which I think we could universally agree is poor form (although perhaps I am wrong on this? I would be curious). 

Instead, if we take up the second form of dialogue, where we have both people participating in a dialogue, not to prove one or the other right, but to put both their ideas to the test, something greater can come out of the discussion. Even if neither person changes their views, they are now able to better explain to themselves and others why they believe in them.

This does not appeal to our intensely testosterone-centered view of the world, it is true. In our society we are very focused and driven by the idea of winning, success, and progress (with the underlying tone of 'of our own goals' tucked in there), and I think that the Sophists would entirely agree with this form of change. However, I don't think it lends itself to greater knowledge, which I believe to be a greater goal of better understanding, something I would like to address next.

In the Protagoras socrates uses a quote:
"If two men go together, side by side,
one man may spy a thing before his friend . . ." (358d) 
My original interpretation of this was that there is a belief that we can only be made better by being around others who are better. Those who are better than we are can impart knowledge on us we couldn't have gotten otherwise. I think this is a view many people take, but I don't think it captures our true capacity for knowledge and understanding. Surely it's important to learn from others, that is a basic idea of being a social being, but every day we exprience things that go against this. Every day we make new discoveries and come up with new ideas that have been taught to us by no one.

I suppose it would be possible to argue that a God, any being of infinite awareness and knowledge, could impart this knowledge on us, and in that we would only ever see change and progression as 'steps towards God,' but I think it would be better if such arguments were set aside until another time, as I believe we can learn more about ourselves by looking at what is readily apparent. So my question to the commenter, where do we get this knowledge from, which seems to come out of nowhere? Or, on the earlier point, is conviction in one's argument a proper outlook on knowledge?

The most powerful lyric of Simoniodes' song is, "only god could have that prize" (341a). This is among the entire debate of "being good" and "becoming good". We struggle throughout our entire lives to be good. We want to reach our highest potential. We do good things and try to be the best people we can be in all areas. So if god is the only one who can truly obtain that ability and "be good" so perfectly, than why do we bother enduring the struggle to reach this point?

The purpose of religion is to lift people to a higher state, give them an understanding of the universe, and help them lead the path to truly being "good". Is this why so many religions are incorporated with god? Maybe religion itself doesn't give us hope that we, within ourselves produce the "goodness"; but maybe that "goodness" of god would perhaps rub off on us, or influence us to be better. According to the Christian religion, for example, the bible is in fact "God's word" as one says, "the fact that God gave us the Bible is an evidence and illustration of His love for us" (http://www.gotquestions.org/Bible-God-Word.html. Here we see the extreme significance of this role and how it affects the mindset of so many who follow the religion. In Juadaism, "ultimate reality is a single, all-powerful God", otherwise known as "Adonai" (http://www.religionfacts.com/judaism/beliefs/god.htm). In Hinduism, there is one ultimate god, "Ishwar" who is the "[s]upreme being Hindus believe in - there is only one God and similar to the way society functions, Ishwar had taken many forms to function the universe" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hindu_deities). In these formed religions and in many more, god is the single, ultimate creator.

We are accustomed to believe that god is the supreme deity. We don't want to do anything bad because god is watching. If something in life isn't going our way, it is to god that we pray to to make our situations and lives better. So now I ask, is "being good", according to the poem Socrates explains, so extremely difficult because nobody can be as perfect as god? Are we too hard on ourselves because subconsciously we know we can never succeed in reaching that point? Do we try to be "good", not for our own sake, but to please god? Or are humans completely independent of god's influence and can we find goodness merely within ourselves and for ourselves?

As we come to the end of our discussions on Protagoras we, as a class, seem to be concerned with the question of Socrates apparent aggressive attitude toward Protagoras. I believe we have lost sight of Socrates main motive for engaging with Protagoras. But first a bit of foreshadowing:

(Socrates and Friend are discussing an individual that Socrates finds more beautiful than Alcibiades)
Socrates: ... How could a supreme intellect possibly fail to be something more beautiful?
Friend: Aha...you've met some sort of intellectual, have you?
Socrates: Only the greatest intellectual alive today. That is, if you think the greatest living intellectual is ... Protagoras. (309 a-d)

What does this foreshadow? It bodes of the coming battle of wits in which Socrates will stand triumphant; it also may reveal that Socrates is in love with himself, or Plato's admiration for Socrates, since he appears at the end to be the most intelligent, and after all "How could a supreme intellect possibly fail to be something more beautiful?" (309c). So, what have we lost sight of? If it hadn't been for Hippocrates insistence that he must learn from Protagoras and Socrates concern for this desire, we wouldn't have such a competition between the two. This cerebral clash was hashed out long before it commenced. So, why the fuss over Socrates bullying? We should have seen it coming.

What I think is more important is a possible underlying motivation for Socrates in the competition. I find it a bit strange that the discussion takes place in the setting that it does: among the most popular sophists of the day, in contention with arguably the most popular, and in the house of a man, Callias, who ardently patronizes sophists. What am I alluding to? Remember Protagoras diatribe of sophists hiding their profession, concealing it behind other more admirable ones (316d-317c). Who was he talking to? Socrates. Were these comments a subtle jest at Socrates? After all, he maintained to his death that he didn't know anything and wasn't really teaching anything but dialogue and that he wanted only to gain knowledge. He also, as is evident in this dialogue particularly, was able to argue in many a different manners and often partook in debates where a winner was seemingly decided; these things were both often attributed to a certain profession. Socrates, when greeted by the doorman shutting the door in his face says, "we're not sophists" (314d). Which in this context, as evidence for my argument, I believe was meant to be ironic. I think we should entertain the idea that possibly Socrates was himself just another sophist.

Today in class we discussed what happens to a philosophical discussion in an atmosphere of competition.  In my opinion, this certainly cannot be the most effective environment, because it seems that the answers to most philosophical questions are not black or white, but somewhere in the gray area, as Joni had stated in her post "Lost in Translation".   Rather than having a dialogue to come up with a mutual agreement, Socrates seems to believe that there is only one right answer, his answer (though he disguises this by saying he doesn't know the answer) and that there must be a winner and a loser.  

I would like to share some thoughts on this debate about "Late Heidegger and Aletheia." First, let me offer the Lyotard text that prompted me to ask, in the first place, about Chris' reading of Heidegger's move away from the human. Lyotard, in defending his appropriation of Heidegger's term Ereignis, agrees that his reading is very much like the discussion found in "On Time and Being,"

[e]xcept that Heidegger's meditation persists in making "man" the addressee of the giving which in the Ereignis gives, and gives itself while withholding itself, and it particularly persists in making the one who receives this giving into the man who fulfills his destiny as man by hearing the authenticity of time [...] The There is [es gibt] takes place, it is an occurrence (Ereignis), but it does not present anything to anyone, it does not present itself, and it is not the present, nor is it presence. (Jean-François Lyotard, The Differend (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1988), 75)

Given Lyotard's criticism and the texts in "On Time and Being" to which Joe has drawn our attention, I believe that it is untenable to find Heidegger moving towards a "humanless" philosophy. It is, rather, Lyotard who would like to extract the human from Heidegger's later work.

While I may be willing to agree with Chris that, in "The End of Philosophy and the Task of Thinking," Heidegger perhaps too quickly relegates Homer's aletheia to orthotes, "correctness of representations and statements" (70), he does still ask the question of how it is that the human comes to experience aletheia in this way. He asks, "[h]ow is it that aletheia, unconcealment, appears to man's natural experience and speaking only as correctness and dependability?" (71). Furthermore, Heidegger ends the essay with these lines:

Does the name for the task of thinking then read instead of Being and Time: Opening and Presence? But where does the opening come from and how is it given? What speaks in the "It gives [es gibt]?" The task of thinking would then be the surrender of previous thinking to the determination of the matter of thinking. (73)
 

The "opening and presence" that displaces "being and time" speaks, as Chris pointed out in his original post, but it is precisely the task of thinking--of a thinking that Heidegger only attributes to humans--to decipher what speaks, and what is said, in the es gibt. I find it difficult, in these passages, to see where the human is jettisoned. Now, in Chris' response to Joe, Chris made an assertion that I find puzzling and which I will take, hopefully with fidelity, to be a kind of rebuttal to my last observation and its accompanying Heidegger text. Here are Chris' words:
 

However, part of my claim is that by articulating the happening of the "It gives" in neutered and impersonal terms, Heidegger, to put it provocatively, re-inscribes his thinking into the long tradition of transcendental philosophy he himself wants to undermine.

I take Chris to mean here that when Heidegger asks, at the end of his essay, whence comes the "opening" and the "It gives," the answer to which Heidegger has bound himself is some impersonal transcendental principle, an answer which would have the self-defeating consequences that Chris points out. My puzzlement over Chris' comment is simply my needing clarification of what Chris means by "transcendental." Certainly Being is transcendent with respect to the human (transcendent in the Husserlian sense, by which I mean, at the risk of oversimplifying, "outside"), but is it transcendental? I will assume, again, I hope with fidelity, that by "transcendental" Chris is pointing to the philosophical enterprises of, most notably, Kant and Husserl. But are these projects not criticized by Heidegger for their espousal of a transcendental principle that is immanent to the subject? Is it not their Cartesian subjectivism that Heidegger criticizes, and not the transcendental as such?

Even in Being in Time--a text whose "anthropocentrism" has to be thought in the background of the assertion that Heidegger's later philosophy disposes of the human--Heidegger uses the term "transcendental" numerous times. Most notably, the title of Part One contains the phrase, "Explication of Time as the Transcendental Horizon of the Question of Being" (Being and Time, H. 40, note that I am giving the German pagination). Only two pages earlier, Heidegger writes, "Being is the transcendens pure and simple" and "[e]very disclosure of being as the transcendens is transcendental knowledge. Phenomenological truth (disclosedness of being) is veritas transcendentalis" (H. 38). There are many more examples, including ones in Heidegger's notes, which he made upon re-readings and some of which, no doubt, he made after the "turn" (these are included in Stambaugh's translation). Regardless, my point is this: Even when Heidegger is most closely in danger of an all-too-humanism, in Being and Time, he uses the term "transcendental" to describe Being and its disclosure. This is because, I believe, he has divorced, in his thinking, the transcendental from its modern marriage to subjectivism.

Thus, if Chris has in mind, in his criticism of Heidegger's re-inscription into the tradition of transcendental philosophy, a subjective transcendentalism, I do not see the grounds for this claim. In fact, when Heidegger's philosophy comes "closest" to the subjectivist trap, and being and time are still thought in terms of Dasein, Heidegger puts forth a transcendental principle thought in terms of disclosure and "phenomenological truth" (i.e., this becomes aletheia in Heidegger's later works). If Being, and its "It gives" are transcendental without being subjectivized, then I do not see how such a transcendental principle 1) is a part of the tradition that Heidegger criticizes or 2) takes the human recipient of the "It gives" out of the picture.

Ironically, I am sympathetic to Chris' desire to maintain the human element in truth as aletheia. I see Heidegger as an ally on this front. It is, rather, Lyotard, and others of his ilk, who pose the greater threat of de-humanizing the event of the saying of things.

This post is in response to Chris Long's claim in "Late Heidegger and Aletheia" that "it seems that Heidegger has sought to affirm a conception of aletheia that is independent of the human." Here, I want to echo again the objection against this claim that Heidegger is espousing a silent, agentless, humanless philosophy in this late work.

I want to argue that "Time and Being" actually seems to make it quite clear that Dasein is still central. Of course, Heidegger is attempting here (like his attempts in essays such as "The Origin of the Work of Art") to think the questions of Being, Time, and Ap-propriation without departing from the existential analysis of Dasein (developed in "Being and Time"), but this does not entail a necessary elision of Dasein. Rather, on page 2 of "Time and Being" Heidegger argues that one aim of the essay is to listen (rather than to command) in order to more "adequately determine[...] the relation of man to what has been called 'Being' up to now." And on page 12, Heidegger reveals that his question concerns the very question, "who are we?" He follows this up by reminding us that "If man were not the constant receiver of the gift given by the 'It gives presence,' if that which is extended in the gift did not reach man, then not only would Being remain concealed in the absence of this gift, not only closed off, but man would remain excluded from the scope of: It gives Being. Man would not be man." Hence, it seems to me that in many ways this essay continues Heidegger's attempt in "The Letter on Humanism" to think more deeply the essence of man than humanism. Indeed, in connection to that other essay we have been discussing in this class, "The Question Concerning Technology," this late thinking attempts to think Dasein as capable of a more patient and attentive disclosure of Being than the dominating calculating quick-thinking way of metaphysics and technology. Such patient listening (and its silence) is not only a form of language itself then, but perhaps a necessary requisite to the more thoughtful response of a more thoughtful Dasein to come (that is, the beginning of "thinking").

The upshot of this analysis also means I do not believe that Heidegger's revision of his previous analysis of aletheia for the Greeks entails a newly expressed oppositional thinking that puts the Greek interpretation of aletheia as a socially involved saying of truth over against a conception of aletheia as the humanless en-opening.  Rather, I believe Heidegger is showing only that the en-opening of aletheia is the possibiliy of the emergenece of truth and hence he was wrong to conflate this en-opening with truth (even with a concept of truth as unconcealing).  Nevertheless, as indicated above we must recognize that even a more primordial (or the new task of) meditation on the aletheia of the en-opening still only comes about in its giving to Dasein.

After a particularly long comment by Protagoras, Socrates responds by saying "Protagoras, the fact is, I'm a bit forgetful, and if someone makes long speeches at me I tend to lose track of what we're talking about....so you've got to trim your answers for me, make them shorter, if you expect me to keep up" (334c-d). The only problem is, a couple pages later, Socrates dominates the dialogue with a long rant himself (342a - 347b). Didn't Socrates just lecture Protagoras for such long winded speeches? Why would Socrates not follow his own rule? Maybe Socrates wanted to keep the conversation framed in a way that was advantageous to him (thoroughly fleshed out by Joni's blog post "Lost in Translation" and Mike's post "Socrates Enters a Poetry Slam"). It is no coincidence that Socrates only talks about keeping the dialogue short after the audience responds positively to Protagoras' response (334a-c). Socrates may be playing to his audience.

 

But what does Socrates actually believe? A historical Socrates represents much the same contradictions as the literary one.  Here we run into the so called Socratic Problem. Socrates never wrote anything down, so our accounts of him are based upon the writings of others, the foremost writing being from his student Plato. But how accurate are these writings really? Did Plato impose some of his own beliefs into the writing? Are their philosophies necessarily that different? This was a topic brought up during the first week of class was never fully discussed. 

 

Other writings exist about Socrates. One of these writings comes from Xenophon, a contemporary admirer of Socrates. While Plato writes about how Socrates never excepted money for his lectures, Xenophon's Symposium says the opposite: Socrates did in fact accept money for his lectures. After all, Socrates was married and had three children. How else could he have provided for his family if he was unemployed? Xenophon's Socrates also tends to be "less ironical in his treatment of others, more down to earth, more amiable and maybe more imitable than Plato's Socrates. In Xenophon philosophy is grounded [has its foundation] in everyday experience rather than in the [axiomatic] preconceptions of Plato. Plato's 'Forms' or 'common nature' are a presupposition (Phaedo 100a); Socratic definition in Xenophon does not pre-require them" (http://www.roangelo.net/logwitt/xenophon.html). 

 

We also have the satirical play The Clouds by Aristophanes which makes fun of Socrates and the intellectualism of the time, as does other playwrights such as Ameipsias who also lampooned Socrates  (Aristophanes: Lysistrata, The Acharnians, Clouds). These are both satirical plays, but all satire relies on some facts in order to establish the joke. What facts about Socrates could've inspired such a negative representation of his character?

 

So I ask: Which version of Socrates is the true version? And how much do the authors influence the "character" of Socrates? Is it possible to distinguish one from the other? Was Socrates the great philosopher or overly intellectual and aloof laughingstock? What other historical evidence exists about the actual man Socrates and not the literary one? And does this disconnect shed any doubt on Socrates' teachings?

When we began our reading of Protagoras, one of the first things to be examined was the double framed dialogue. We posed various ideas of why the body was written as a narrative. While the format would lend itself to Socrates' authority, as I delve deeper into the text, I find the format ironic. While set up to bolster Socrates' perspective, the narrative merely accentuates his aggressive (and at times almost irritating) style. I continue to find myself intrigued by how both Socrates and Protagoras are being portrayed in juxtaposition of how they are intended to come across. This contrast also has interesting parallels with traditional views of philosophy and the sophist rhetorical tradition.

Throughout Socrates' and Protagoras' dialogue, Socrates emerges as the aggressive, questioning young philosopher. It appears as though he feigns to merely question Protagoras' great knowledge, and yet ends up tying down his words and cornering him into narrow conclusions. While Socrates insists he is merely trying to acquire a deeper understanding, I find myself rather irritated with his near bullying (this of course, is my opinion. Others may see him as merely aggressive in his dialogical techniques). Protagoras is seen as the revered sophist, very open and honest about his profession, and willing to answer any question. While Socrates attempts to show Protagoras' nearsightedness, I feel as though he is far too caught up with having the best of him, without allowing for Protagoras to truly respond in a practical way.

Socrates restricts much of the dialogue to extremes and absolutes. For instance, when trying to pinpoint the particulars of aspects of the good, Socrates embarks on an illustration of opposites, forcing Protagoras to conclusions that only allow for isolated pairs of opposites. While Socrates does not speak falsely, he doesn't allow Protagoras to elaborate, and he leaves no room for any gray area; He paints everything as starkly black and white.

While this doesn't show favorably upon Socrates, it is also characteristic of the differences between philosophy and the sophist traditions. Socrates (as representative of the philosophy tradition) is concerned with pinpointing absolutes, and specifically, the Good (with a capital "G"). Protagoras (as representative of the sophist tradition), seems to be presenting more practical knowledge and understanding (more like the politike techne perhaps?). It seems as though his terms (like "the good") may be more relative than what Socrates is looking for.

From studying philosophy in the past, I was accustomed to thinking of the sophist in much more villainized ways. But the farther I get into Protagoras the more it seems as though the sophists and philosophers were more lost in translation. While their domain appears to be the same, I think the sophists were much more concerned with virtue and knowledge in relation to circumstance while philosophers strive to transcend time and space with their pursuit of absolute truths and knowledge.  

This is the first weekly roundup, created by Anthony Zirpoli and Tony Arnold. It's a tad bit long, sorry about that. 

Of course, last night President Obama gave his address to the House and Senate last night.   Yet, during the President's speech, Representative Joe Wilson of South Carolina let fling the comment "You lie!" somewhere toward the President like the kid in sixth grade who could always place a spit ball anywhere from his corner of the classroom.  And though, the comment seemed directed at the President, surely all politicians present at the address blushed red due to some shared compunction common to that profession.   And though this writer could care less about the orations occurring within that august chamber of our Republic, a similar reaction occurred for me while reading the assigned sections of "Protagoras."

While Socrates demands that Protagoras get to his point, leaving his words unadorned with his sophist style, Socrates himself does exactly the opposite of what he asked Protagoras to do: to keep it short (335a).   In the same vein, as Socrates demands brevity and questions, the philosopher freely departs from his own agreed-upon rules.  And although it would be unfair to call Socrates back-handed, what is to be understood by Socrates' own neglect of the debate's rules?

Yet, before answering the posed question, the characterization of Socrates by the other characters present and by the philosopher's own words gives to the reader multiple angles from which the philosopher can be viewed.   Consider how Socrates determines himself to be "slower" than Protagoras; likewise, consider Alcibiades' comments about Socrates that follow: "(not Socrates, mind you: I can guarantee that he won't forget, no matter what he says about being 'a bit forgetful'--He's just messing with us)" (336a,b,e).   From the initial characterization of watchful mentor in the beginning of the Socrates' long story, here, the philosopher may be viewed as playful and mercurial and not at all serious.   And, as Socrates tells his story, Socrates lets himself be viewed as mischievous.   Socrates says he is forgetful; Alcibiades, Socrates is not.   As Socrates wishes Protagoras to slow down, Socrates sprints, while cutting corners.

The corner that is cut by Socrates occurs during the discussion of the poem by Simonides, which begins at 339a.   What is striking about the discussion is not so much the content of it but rather the editor's notes, which highlight Socrates' playfulness and his disingenuous interpretation of the poem--in particular, footnote number 69 (pg. 150) for section 340c.   The editor writes that "Socrates is parodying the sophistic style of (pedantic) interpretation.   The interpretative claims he makes are, for the most part, deliberately silly."   And on a minor note, what happens to Protagoras during the discussion?   Socrates appears a man alone at center stage.

If Socrates acts in a less-than-serious manner, how is the reader to make sense of him?   He doesn't act in one particular manner, and as hard as it is to make simple sense of Protagoras' teachings, it is equally hard to make sense of Socrates', who offers the reader no easy interpretation.   In recalling initial class discussions of being wary of initial characterizations, it seems that the reader must scrutinize Socrates even more than the sophist.

In Book I of Plato's Republic, Socrates discusses the exact topics that we have been conversating about; mainly the beginning of human nature (or society).  What is so important about societies is that they are directly linked to how we may view a persons morality.  As we have stated, morality is judged relatively.  If we are raised in a household that steals, we may view stealing as something legitimate.  The one argument that I wish to raise comes from the story Protagoras gives involving Thinxahead and Thinxtoolate; attempting to define human nature.  Protagoras states, "Now, supplied with these advantages, in earliest times people lived scattered here and there.  There were no societies...  So they kept on trying to find a way to gather into groups and defend themselves by founding communities, but every time they came together, they would do one another wrong, since they didn't have any ethical know-how, and so they would scatter again and go back to being slaughtered." (322b.)  I would like to compare this to how Socrates believed societies were formed in the Republic.  Socrates argued that people needed each other for survival (as did Protagoras).  The main factor, though, consists in the dependency upon the citizens of the society, for Socrates, since the people needed each other to survive.  Interdepenency was vital for a different reason though: for the society to exist; home builders were needed to build homes, doctors were needed to cure the sick, farmers to provide food, etc...  This dependency upon one another left no room to fight. 

Socrates original association is not violent or desperate.  What Socrates accentuates is that our needs binds us together by nature.  That something common and mutual is at the root of the state; that there is a kind of justice operative in this small city.  From this, people will, or at least, should settle into the tasks that they can master and do well.  

As we have seen, Protagoras insisted that individuals do not have this mutual beginning.  They have individual and independent motivations for coming into society; possibly different impulses or desires would be the original condition of his society.

If I may branch off, I would like to single out the society of Protagoras.  If anyone has ever read the Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes, I'm sure they can see similarities.  Hobbes stated that we begin in a "State of Nature" were life was "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short."  In this State of Nature everything belonged to everyone.  From this, he states that "If any two men desire the same thing, which nevertheless they cannot both enjoy, they become enemies."  Followed by, "To this war of every man against every man, this also is consequent:  that nothing can be unjust.  The notions of right and wrong, justice and injustice, have there no place."  (Hobbes, Of the Natural Condition of Mankind).  If we begin in a state of war, how could morality every be derived from it?  Coming from this, why is Protagoras attempting to push his ethical knowledge into the arena of teaching how to be good? 

Now that I have showed the similarities between Socrates and Protagoras' socities, I wish to question:  If Protagoras is actually attempting to find and teach the "true good", why is he starting his society off with violence, just as Hobbes?  Why does having no "ethical know-how" automatically mean that people are violent beings?  Isn't the main struggle surviving?  Who seems to be chasing the "real just" and "real good" without giving a preconceived notion that immorality is expected in human nature? 

Hey everyone, I know this is a bit late but now that this is working for me I wanted to go ahead and post my in-depth take on Protagoras's analogy of Prometheus and Epimetheus. Let me say ahead of time, yes I do go off topic here and there in order to explore a point more in-depth, but I do make it back to the core points. So please, give me comments, give me criticism, constructive hopefully, and I do want to hear your thoughts on this too, I'm quite interested to hear what your takes on this story is besides Protagoras possibly using it to lull people in. To me, just from him using this particular analogy, he already has given himself some credit in my book. So without further wait, here it is, my take on Prometheus and Epimetheus, enjoy. During the dialogue between Socrates and Protagoras, Protagoras uses a story to convey the nature of our being, in an effort to display our innate capacity for right and wrong. I think it's interesting the imagery that is used in reference to the Gods and various Occult principals to convey how it is we are. First, the use of Prometheus and Epimetheus (Thinxahead and Thinxtolate) shows the possibilities of how this came to pass. Now first, we have Epimetheus, being of the nature to act and then consider the repercussions afterward, asking his brother to let him hand out the abilities and characteristics of the Life of the Earth. By Prometheus's very nature, he would have had to of known that Epimetheus would miscalculate to some degree and leave us without physical abilities. Being of foresight he would have had to of known the position he would be placed in, by allowing Epimetheus to assign the abilities, and in doing so he ensures we will become what we are. On the same token, some if not all of the Gods are Omniscient and should be able to know what will happen and being Omnipotent would have been able to stop the occurrences, and stop the stealing of the powers, but they didn't, so it is fair to say that by this scenario we were not created to be as such by a fluke. So now we have established that we are meant to think and possess the Fire which is stolen by Prometheus, as well as fire (and yes there is a difference), as well as Technical Knowledge, Art's and Craft's, Creative Intelligence, and eventually Ethical and Social Intelligence. When Protagoras discusses the various things that Prometheus stole, he does so carefully to convey special meaning, "he stole the technical ingenuity that belonged to Hephaestus and Athena, along with fire (because there was no way anyone could possess it, or make any use of it, without fire) and he bestowed those gifts on human kind." (Protagoras, 321 d) Now let's consider what is meant here, beyond face value. fire (which should in this case be Fire, but someone probably left that out in the translation, seeing it as unimportant) is representative of the Element Fire, and not the physical fire, whose characteristics are used as an analogy to describe the nature of the Element of Fire. Fire, is characterized as the Divine Spark, or the Creative Spark, which is possessed by the Divine and influenced by the Soul, which in this case was the only possessed by the Gods aside from the Divine, up until this point. So Fire has both a Creative and Destructive nature, it also has the ability to bring about Change, which in essence is the Creative/Destructive cycle, as nothing, it is evident, is truly Created or Destroyed, but rather is constantly changing form. So by this very nature of both the Gods and ourselves having Fire, we are connected to one another, and in some form are Godlike ourselves. "So now that people had their little share of what is given to the Gods, in the first place, on account of their connections in higher places, they alone among living things had any notion of the Divine, and they set about building altars and making Statues of the Gods." (Protagoras, 322 a) So from this statement we can gather many things, first being the full hierarchy of beings in this scenario. "their little share of what is given to the Gods" this statement reveals two things. First, the Gods were created by something greater, as they are given the gift of Fire, sentience from the Divine, and secondly the ability to Create, to influence reality definitively, is in the constant state of being given to the Gods by the Greater Thing, the Divine, and so we may there-for derive that it is being given to us constantly as well. So, we have a constant connection between the Greater Thing, the Divine, and the Gods, and is connected to the Humans and through Creation, connected to Animals. This is also interesting, we are Animals, which physically are without the Fire, and yet we possess the Fire, and in that we are Divine as well, we then walk between mortality and immortality. So what then is the immortal and how does one live eternally in this way? "they alone among living things had any notion of the Divine, and they set about building altars and making statues to the Gods." By this statement, humans are the only living things with the Creative Spark and Knowledge of the Divine, but the Gods also possess the Fire, so how can it be that we are the only living things that have it? The Gods must then be not of the living realm, and yet exist, so then there must be existence that is parallel to physical in which the Greater Thing, the Gods, as well as our Fire exist. Now this means that for the most part the Gods and the Divine are without form, so then what use is a statue or an altar that displays the form of that which is formless in the physical. Let us consider the nature of these things. First a Statue, what is the purpose of a statue, it serves no technical purpose, for the most part, and it does not naturally benefit things, so why is it made? Consider, as with any work of Art, when viewed it excites certain feelings and thoughts in the viewer, which often times have no direct relation to the statue itself but rather qualities related to the statue. So for instance, looking at a Cross, most Christians will be compelled to remember Christ, particularly his sacrifice on the Cross, as well as qualities he possessed such as Love, Compassion, Charity, Forgiveness, Acceptance, Faith, etc. and upon doing so and meditating upon the qualities, we may excite them in ourselves, in that over time for instance, by meditating on Christ's nature, we may become more Christ-like. Consider now, an altar devoted to Aphrodite, with Her Statue upon it. If one were to meditate regularly on her image: Love, Sensuality and Beauty by focusing on these qualities, through the use of our Fire, we may shape with our mind this form within us. In a more practical sense, by focusing on Beauty for instance one creates an image of what Beauty is to them, and through repetitively envisioning this we are more likely to take steps to manifest Change in our life in accordance with our thought or will, and either become Beauty or bring it to us in our lives. Now from a metaphysical perspective, our thought reinforces reality, and as change to reality occurs, we may influence which possibility occurs with thought, by envisioning a version of the future firmly in our minds, in some way we may influence the outcome of events. Now very rarely does someone master this to the extent of thinking and instantly altering reality, but rather if we are in reality X, and reality X is the current state of being, at the instant, we for instance may have 3 distinct possibilities of what X will be in the future, say one year from X. We will call these futures A, B and C. A we will say is most beneficial to us, B is a less beneficial future but not bad, and C is the least beneficial to us. Now considering these, if we perform actions which are more likely to lead to future A, chances are we will reach a version of X close to future A. So in the other sense, by constantly focusing our thoughts on succeeding in actions which will result in Future A we are more likely to be presented with, or even to the skeptic, recognize various opportunities, and be more pro-acting to take advantage of these scenarios. In summary, besides thought affecting True Reality in the realm of Fire, which then affects the Physical reality, in a strictly Physical manner, by thinking we may actively affect and direct the course of our own future. So then, to get back to the point, what does all of this have to do with sense of right and wrong, what does this have to do with Ethical and Social Intelligence, and Reason. Well now that we have went through the process of coming to the conclusion that we are sentient, thinking beings, who exist in a physical world, parallel to worlds of Thought and Soul in which our Fire exists. Being thinking Beings able to recognize ourselves, we have made a first decision to some extent "I am Me". After making this conclusion, we may recognize to some extent, I am separate physically from "that" and are now able to recognize that there are other sentient beings. Next we may recognize that at some point or another we must interact with other beings. Now being that the other being is having these parallel rationalizations, the two must come to the mutual conclusion to interact, and so social intelligence begins practically with interaction. Though repeated interactions we begin to devise methods of conveying our thoughts to one another, the body being a medium for this interaction. Eventually though interactions we come to decide whether or not the interaction is or is not beneficial to us, either directly through interaction itself, or though the product of the interaction, these being the foundations of socializations. Though, as for humans innately having a sense of right and wrong I would have to disagree. Rather, I would say that humans have the capacity to decide for themselves what is right and wrong, though the basis for what is right and what is wrong comes from morals imparted unto them by previous Generations, as well as our experiences over time, the basis for which seems to be that; right, more or less, is rooted in our benefit and our survival, that is, it is right to perform an action if it is beneficial to us or our survival, as individuals, which may depend on the survival of others, for instance, and there-for their survival as well. Then, what is wrong is determined by that which is not beneficial, more accurately harmful to us or our survival. While this is in very basic animalistic terms as relating right and wrong to a very self serving system, there is still another factor which exists outside of this model. In situations when our survival is endangered in order to preserve another person, or we donate time to charity without direct reward (although one could argue that the reward is feeling "good") we see us acting upon a sense of what is the right thing which is not directly dependent upon a beneficial, non-beneficial system. So we can say that all humans, in order to interact, must possess a sense of right and wrong in order to judge social interactions and in some situations reason with others through diplomatic means, though the details may vary from person to person.

"'What we face,' he wrote, 'is above all a moral issue; at stake are not just the details of policy, but fundamental principles of social justice and the character of our country.'

I've thought about that phrase quite a bit in recent days - the character of our country. One of the unique and wonderful things about America has always been our self-reliance, our rugged individualism, and our fierce defense of freedom and our healthy skepticism of government. And figuring out the appropriate size and role of government has always been a source of rigorous and sometimes angry debate." (Bumpshack.com: where the news always bumps - too good of a title to pass up sharing with everyone.)

When listening to President Obama's address to the joint Congress on healthcare, and then rereading the text, I was struck by the quote above. The words, it seemed to me, could have been taken straight from Plato's Republic. They were, however, taken from a letter written by Ted Kennedy. My point may be a bit of a stretch, and I would love feedback on this, as I'm not very experienced at expressing my philosophical views. What I think we can get out of this quote, and thus relate back to Protagoras and Socrates, is the idea of a common goal. Our most current reading involves what I considered to be a bit of frustration coming from both Socrates and Protagoras, concerning how to proceed with their discussion. Socrates is in favor of "keeping it short," and Protagoras states that there's no way to "become a household name" by "conducting the discussion on [his] opponent's terms" (335a). Socrates and Protagoras eventually come to an agreement about how to function, although Protagoras is "forced to go along with it" (338e). He continues their interrupted conversation by shifting "to a poetic context." He does this to prove or disprove that both he and Socrates are "well-educated" people (339a). We then get a discussion of a song by Simonides, and the accessibility and definition of the state of "good." Near the end of the excerpt we were asked to read, Socrates states that he believes "discussions about poetry are exactly like those parties thrown by low-class, vulgar people - they do the same: they aren't capable of entertaining each other over their drinks just with their own ideas - because of their lack of sophistication - so they drive up the price of flute-girls by paying out a lot of money to get a "voice" in from somewhere else - the sound of the flute - and then rely on that voice for entertaining one another" (347d).

So how does this tie back to Obama and Kennedy? I felt that the point our President was trying to make in quoting the late Mr. Kennedy, was that struggle between options of how to work out huge issues has always been present, but in the end, it's about expressing a point and then acting on it. All this is for the betterment of society. Socrates and Protagoras didn't want to work out the issue of communication that they were having. Socrates eventually told Protagoras that he was immature in his expression of thought. But, it must be remembered that Plato is writing this dialogue from the viewpoint of Socrates telling a story to a friend. This is a constructed scene with a specific purpose. Plato was writing to develop his own ideals and thus, policy that could be applied to entire nations. Plato is not informing his reader of a song written by Simonides to have the reader examine melodic continuity - although, we can never be sure; he isn't really here to confirm anything - he is writing to make the reader familiar with the idea of socially extraneous processes that are leading the "brains" of the day on tangents, and distracting them from the point - to organize society and develop pure norms.

Again, I just want to throw a general disclaimer out there if it sounds like babbling. Thanks for listening/reading, guys. Have at it!

In episode 11 of the Digital Dialogue, I am joined by Christopher Johnstone who is Associate Professor of Communication Arts and Sciences here at Penn State. 

His research and teaching focuses on the history of rhetorical theory, rhetorical criticism and the philosophy of rhetoric.  He specializes in the early development of Greek rhetoric.

His recently completed book will appear in November 2009 from the University of South Carolina Press entitled Listening to the Logos: Speech and the Coming of Wisdom in Ancient Greece. He has also written numerous articles on ancient Greek rhetoric and communication, including the essay on which we will focus our attention today entitled "Sophistical Wisdom: Politikê Aretê and 'Logosophia'" which appeared in Philosophy and Rhetoric, 39, no. 4 (2006): 265-89.

In episode 11, we discuss the history of how the Sophists and Plato have been interpreted and we talk about the differences between philosophy and rhetoric.  We differ strikingly about how to read Plato and this difference opens an interesting new possibility for understanding the way the Sophists have historically been juxtaposed to Philosophers.

Digital Dialogue 11 with Christopher Johnstone: Sophists and Philosophers

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Related Links

• Pam Dorian's blog post reconsidering the Sophists for my PHIL200 (Ancient Greek Philosophy) course based on her work in Chris's CAS201 (Rhetorical Theory) course.

Related Texts Mentioned

• Jarratt, Susan C. Rereading the Sophists: Classical Rhetoric Refigured. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1991. 
• Schiappa, Edward. Protagoras and Logos: A Study in Greek Philosophy and Rhetoric. 2nd ed, Studies in Rhetoric/Communication. Columbia, S.C.: University of South Carolina Press, 2003. 

Of Note

Suppose for a moment that ethics denotes all that we talked about, especially in the latter part of class, in Philosophy 200 today: namely, a sense of right and wrong, but also empathetic decision-making, social responsibility, etc.  My interest in this post is not so much whether or not we are born with an ethical sense as individiuals -- I am sure we will all have a chance to contribute to that discussion -- but, rather, I am interested in fleshing out the transpersonal, or, to be more precise, heteronomous -- as opposed to autonomous --elements of the ethical sense.

As a class we seemed to head in the direction that most humans have an innate sense for the ethical that is most operative after social cultivation.  Even if we take Anthony's statistic that one in ten individuals is born without such a sense (I believe Anthony was referring particularly to empathy), then we can still call that a statistical anomaly and certainly not common.  But consider this: even if such cases as the one in ten (here used more metaphorically than particularly) disproved the intrinsicness of an individual ethical sense, does that in any way disprove a social sense buttressed by a majority of individuals who seem to demonstrate such a sense?  Even if a serial killer, for instance, never, even after years of prison, acquires a sense of right and wrong or remorse, he has been checked by a society that says that such a sense exists and that we must observe it:  by sending the killer to prison, society has served as his/her personal moral conscience, whether he/she is conscious of it or not.

I am simply itching to consider the heteronomous aspect of the ethical sense.  If it is not internal, it is checked by society.  If it is internal, it may still be heteronomous.  In her essay "Thinking and Moral Consideration" Hannah Arendt considers Socrates' daemon, his internal voice who constantly examines him.  Arendt cites Hippias Major, a dialogue at the end of which Socrates tells Hippias "'how blissfully fortunate' he is compared to himself who, when he goes home, is awaited by a very obnoxious fellow 'who always cross-examines [him], a close relative, living in the same house'" ("Thinking" 443).  Arendt is here referring to a bifurcation of the self -- two elements of one person: a consciousness, which is receptive, aware, and active, and a conscience, which makes ethical decisions.  Arendt believes that a conscience is not intrinsic; rather it is achieved via contact with others, i.e. via dialogue in the agora, and Socrates demonstrates what it is to have a conscience.  After having been "cross-examined" by his conscience, his internal Other, Socrates is prepared to make an informed decision made richer by the input of an additional perspective.  Indeed, Arendt suggests that one's conscience is essentially the representative voice of all one's Others, imploring us to make an ethical decision. 

Emmanuel Levinas observes (his is a phenomenology, not an ethics) that the Other is operative in our living ethically.  He perceives that the Other calls us into disinterestedness, or dis-inter-est-edness.  The French dis- (out), inter- (to bury), and est- [is, from etre (forgive the lack of accent) to be] suggest that Levinas sees the Other as literally exhuming ourselves from our internal selves.  The voice of the Other makes me hostage to Others.

These two thinkers are important in that they both did their most important work after the Holocaust -- and both in fact lost much during the Holocaust -- which was quite possibly the most vexing ethical situation in human history.  Literally everyone --  of all classes, occupations, ethnicities, etc. -- was forced into serious ethical decision-making during this atrocity, many making what we would likely perceive as good decisions, as the defeat of the Axis attests.  A stream of heteronomous ethical thinking poured torrently from this moral quagmire, and Arendt and Levinas are just two voices to speak to that point.

My purpose in this post was to consider the heteronomous aspects of ethical thinking, i.e. those that are not so much innately wired in our brains, but those that are imposed upon us by Others.  It seems reasonable to suggest that values such as good and bad, being chiefly social, only emerged upon the realization that humans require social interaction to live harmoniously and prosperously.  Therefore, we have a suggestion of an antecedent to autonomous ethical thinking.  So I might ask: Does it really matter whether or not we are born with an innate ethical sense, as we were debating this morning?  If human society ends up with a stout ethical system, it seems trivial to argue whether or not each individual is born with a map of a similar system, unless we are in the business of a Minority Report-esque exploration of obviating unethical behavior.  But, to that point, is this a "chicken-or-the-egg" question?  Which came first, heteronomy or autonomy in ethical thinking?  I would just like to contemplate the heteronomous aspects a bit more in relief of our concentration on moral autonomy.  I would love to hear everyone else's opinions, and criticisms, too.  

What would happen if we weren't taught right from wrong? What if we had no morals at all? If we acted completely as free spirits and were able to do whatever we wanted, would our society be corrupt? 

Late in his career, Heidegger affirms the longstanding criticism of his reading of the Greek 'aletheia' as unconcealment. In his 1964 lecture The End of Philosophy and the Task of Thinking, Heidegger writes:

The natural concept of truth does not mean unconcealment, not in the philosophy of the Greeks either.  It is often and justifiably pointed out that the word alethes is already used by Homer only in the verba dicendi, in statement and thus in the sense of correctness and reliability, not in the sense of unconcealment. (See, "The End of Philosophy" in On Time and Being, p. 70).

Although Paul Friedländer had sought in his book entitled simply, Plato, to deny that the alpha in aletheia was to be understood as a privative, it is really Heribert Boeder's 1959 essay Der frühgriechische Wortgebrauch Von Logos und Aletheia that seems to prompt Heidegger to revise his long standing insistence that aletheia named the originary Greek understanding of being as unconcealment. Boeder argues convincingly in his essay that truth as aletheia in Greek epic poetry was rooted in the world of human communication and grew out of that context.

In my forthcoming book, The Saying of Things: The Truth of Nature and the Nature of Truth in Aristotle, I argue that the question of truth has always been rooted in human being together even as it increasingly came to designate the dynamic relationship between human beings and the things they encounter.

In affirming Boeder, however, Heidegger moves too quickly from the idea that aletheia is in Greek epic always associated with verbs of saying, to the conclusion that this implies that aletheia is understood simply "in the sense of correctness and reliability." This assumption causes Heidegger to renounce the Greeks in order to insist that aletheia names "the opening of presence concealing itself, the opening of a self-concealing sheltering" ("The End of Philosophy" in On Time and Being, p. 71).

Yet this self-concealing sheltering too gives itself to language and for this reason, aletheia can be heard to name the attempt to articulate things as they show themselves to be. So, even if, as Aaron Krempa suggested in our 9/1 PHIL553 class, Lyotard criticizes Heidegger in "The Differend" for his anthropocentric views, here, it seems that Heidegger has sought to affirm a conception of aletheia that is independent of the human. But aletheia has always involved the human and, more specifically, it does not point the neutral and abstract happening of being; rather, aletheia but to the site of the human encounter with being, that is, to the site of self-concealing appearing.

As is evidenced by the previous post and the subsequent comments, "the good" and it's relation to various spheres of knowledge (primarily religion) is contested. I'd like to posit an epistemological approach to "the good" as a potential paradigm to interpret Socrates' use of "the good."

The second day of class we discussed eros and the erotic attraction to individuals who are wise. Specifically we were talking about why Socrates describes Protagoras as attractive. (p. 309c) We also discussed how Socrates would go around Athens and attempt to discuss politics with people, and direct the conversation to "the good and the just." We might be able to say that Socrates, in some fashion, is attracted to "the good and the just." I would actually say that Socrates was erotically attracted to "the good and the just"; which is to say that he was in love with them. (Eros and its variants are usually translated into the word "love" from Greek texts).

I want to suggest an epistemology of love, and that the love for knowledge is an essential aspect to what Socrates refers to as "the good and the just." In other words, someone cannot truly be attuned to "the good and the just" without first having a love for knowledge. And this love isn't merely an interest in gathering information, but a methodology. First and foremost, the epistemology of love recognizes that there is a relationship between the known and the knower. This entails that the knower must be open to the known being other than has been expected or even desired. This requires the knower to respond accordingly and not merely be a distant observer (as many modern thinkers would suggest). Effectively this is a relational epistemology. And I believe that it cannot be disentangled from what Socrates means by "the good and the just."

If we are open to reality being different then what we believed, and respond accordingly (and perhaps honestly?), I think we have reached the beginning of understanding "the good."

Any thoughts?

In Socrates' exchanges of dialogues with Protagoras, Protagoras says that he is trying to teach people to be ethical citizens by teaching them to be "good". Socrates decides to bring up the topic of religion, which was mentioned as a qualification to be "good". Both Socrates and Protagoras agree that "being good is a single quality, and the things you're asking are parts of it" (329a), much in the same way parts of the face make up the whole face. Many traits make up that face, one of which is religion: "So that means no other part of being good is like knowledge, and no other part is like respect for what's right, and no other part is like bravery, and no other part is like being sensible, and no other part is like being religious?" (330b). Socrates brought up religion to clarify whether or not righteousness and religiousness are the same thing, or in a broader meaning if all the characteristics of "good" are not related in some way. But let's focus on the religious part for a second. Socrates and Protagoras agree than being religious is a way to become good. I realize this is not a religious philosophy class, but certain questions come to mind. My main question is: Does a person need to be religious in order to be a good person? And maybe in a broader sense, and in relation to earlier posts on religious interpretation of the soul vs. Socratic interpretation of the soul: Does Philosophy and Religion have to necessarily be at odds with one another? Does one need to be mutually exclusive from the other? 

It's funny, I'm taking CAS 201 (Rhetorical Theory) in addition to PHIL 200 this semester. Needless to say, I've spent a fair amount of time thinking about rhetoric this semester. It's fascinating how, in one class, I'm reading about how deceiving and manipulative the Sophists were (that seems to be Plato/Socrates' point in Protagoras), yet in my other class, I'm reading about how brilliant and innovative the Sophists were in the history of rhetoric. I think it's worth exploring both views.

In "The History and Theory of Rhetoric" by James A. Herrick, the Sophists are described as "important intellectual figures who have received a somewhat unreservedly negative press" (36). Protagoras is described as an important figure in "developing the philosophy underlying rhetorical practices" (45). He sounds like a pretty swell guy.

Yet why, then, were the Sophists so controversial? My textbook gives 5 reasons: 1) Sophists taught for pay, threatening the power of aristocratic families to hog educators, 2) Sophists were wanderers, and people were suspicious of the "rootless individual", 3) The Sophists' cultural relativism clashed the Platonic ideas of universal forms and gods, 4) According to  Sophists like Protagoras and Gorgias, truth emerged from a "clash of arguments" rather than from Gods or other transcendent forms 5) The Sophists' built a view of justice based on nomos, or social agreement. This, again, contradicted the Greek view that truths and laws should be derived from absolute authorities, like Gods or a king.

There has also apparently been a "long rivalry between rhetoric and philosophy" (57). We just began Chapter 3, which is "Plato Versus the Sophists: Rhetoric on Trial." It talks mostly about Gorgias, so I'll save that argument for when we start that dialogue.

But I just thought it'd be worthy to note in true Sophist fashion that there are always 2 sides to a story; Plato's disapproval of the Sophists is one side, but on the other side are historians who revel the Sophists' contributions to rhetorical theory.

Protagoras offers a drawn-out story in response to Socrates' reservation regarding whether or not good citizenry can necessarily be taught or "supplied" to a person.  At the end of this story, it becomes abundantly clear that Protagoras is suggesting that ethics not only can be taught, but that it is in fact a master thread of human existence: it is, to use a similar metaphor, a tie that binds together not only all teachable disciplines, but day-to-day life.  Protagoras believes this so much that he makes bold and slightly embellished claims:       "...[T]here is one thing that everyone's got to have" in order for society "to exist at all," says Protagoras.  "It's respect for what's right, and moderation, and religiousness, and, in short, what I refer to as the quality of being a good man" (324e-325a).  This claim leads him to further claims that children imbibe ethical norms from natality, that all learned disciplines (writing, guitar-playing, etc.) have the primary goal of ethical prescription, and that all men, concerning ethical matters (e.g., those of good citizenry), are always "keen to tell everyone else, and teach everyone else, what's right and what's lawful" (327b).  What becomes apparent is that Protagoras sees ethics as ubiquitous and unifying.  Probably because of this, however, ethical teaching is equally as inconspicuous: its pervasion belies its centrality, and so, in Protagoras' long-winded opinion, this prevents folks like Socrates, infinitely wise though they may be, from seeing the constant interchange of ethical advice that is a fact of human (and certainly Athenian) life.

I would like to ask the question:  Do we agree with Protagoras' view?  Is ethics so teachable that it's in fact the most oft-taught subject?  If so, would this require us to rethink ethics qua subject?  To rephrase, would this mean that ethics is a sort of "master discipline" that is so inextricably tied to all human exchange that it is in fact among the most difficult and the simplest subjects to grasp?  Maybe, to be even more precise: Is ethics less a standard prescription than an act of advice or suggestion?  That would make ethics very slippery to grasp, even if it was, as Protagoras says, the most common subject of daily human interplay.  Does anyone find that I am completely off-track?

Looking forward to class tomorrow.

    When Hippocrates  and Socrates come to speak with Protagoras they ask him whether or not he would rather speak with them openly or in private. I found Protagoras' response to be very interesting. He preceded to explain to Hippocrates and Socrates that because many people are uncomfortable when they are aware that their soul is being persuaded, many sophists, in fact, hide their identity in fear of hostility towards them from the people. "My own view is that the sophist's profession has been around for a very long time; it's just that people who practiced it in the past devised covers for their profession and disguised it, because they were worried about offending people. Some of them used poetry as their cover: Homer, for example and Hesiod, and Simonides." (316 d)