Ancient Philosophy

Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle

Socrates

Socrates presents significant challenges for historians as an object of study. It is certain that, regarding many historical figures, we possess very little knowledge, while concerning others, we know a great deal; yet in the case of Socrates, we are uncertain whether we know very little or quite a lot. Undoubtedly, he was an Athenian citizen of modest means who spent his time engaging in discourse and teaching the youth philosophy, but not for a fee, as the sophists did. It is firmly established that in 399 B.C.E., when Socrates was about seventy years old, he was condemned, sentenced to death, and executed. It is equally clear that he was a well-known figure in Athens, as Aristophanes caricatured him in his comedy Clouds. However, beyond these facts, the accounts of Socrates become contentious. Two of Socrates' students, Xenophon and Plato, wrote extensively about him, yet their narratives diverge significantly. Barnet suggested that even in cases where they agree, it is often because Xenophon is merely echoing Plato. When they disagree, some trust one account while others trust the other, and still others do not believe either. I do not dare to align myself with one side or the other in this perilous debate; rather, I shall succinctly outline the various perspectives presented.

Let us begin with Xenophon, a military man not particularly blessed with intellectual gifts and generally inclined to adhere to traditional views. Xenophon is disheartened by the charges brought against Socrates for impiety and corrupting the youth; he asserts that, on the contrary, Socrates was quite pious and that his influence on the young was altogether beneficial. Evidently, his ideas were far from subversive, being rather dull and commonplace. This defense goes too far, for it fails to account for the animosity directed toward Socrates. As Barnet remarks, “Xenophon’s defense of Socrates is too successful. Socrates would never have been sentenced to death if he were as Xenophon describes him.”

There was a tendency to presume that everything Xenophon said must be correct because he lacked the intellect to conceive of anything erroneous. This line of reasoning is utterly unfounded. The retelling of a wise man’s thoughts by a fool is never accurate, as the fool unconsciously distorts what he hears into something he can comprehend. I would prefer my words to be conveyed by my most bitter philosophical adversary rather than by a friend ignorant of philosophy. Therefore, we cannot accept Xenophon’s account if it includes any difficult philosophical questions or forms part of an argument intended to prove that Socrates was unjustly condemned.

Nonetheless, some of Xenophon’s recollections are quite persuasive. He reports (as does Plato) that Socrates was perpetually occupied with the question of how to ensure that the government was led by competent individuals. He had a habit of asking questions such as, “If I wanted to repair a shoe, to whom should I turn?” To this inquiry, some earnest youths would reply, “To the cobbler, oh Socrates.” He often visited carpenters, blacksmiths, and others, posing questions like, “Who should repair the Ship of State?” When he clashed with the Thirty Tyrants, their leader, Critias—who was acquainted with Socrates’ views as one of his students—prohibited him from continuing to instruct the youth, saying, “No, you must, Socrates, abandon these cobblers, carpenters, and blacksmiths; I believe they are quite wearied from being perpetually on your lips.” This transpired during the brief oligarchic rule imposed by the Spartans at the end of the Peloponnesian War. Yet for the majority of the time, Athens was governed democratically, with even military commanders being chosen by lot. On one occasion, Socrates encountered a young man aspiring to become a general and persuaded him to study military arts. Following this advice, the youth left to undertake a brief course in tactics. Upon his return, Socrates humorously praised him and sent him back to continue his education. Another young man was compelled by Socrates to learn the fundamentals of financial science. Socrates sought to implement such plans with many individuals, including a general; however, it was determined that it was easier to silence Socrates with hemlock than to eradicate the ill he lamented.

Plato’s portrayal of Socrates presents a different sort of challenge than that of Xenophon, namely, it is very difficult to judge the extent to which Plato intended to depict Socrates as a historical figure and to what degree he transformed the character referred to as "Socrates" in his dialogues into a mouthpiece for his own views. Plato was not only a philosopher but also a gifted writer, endowed with vivid imagination and charm. No one presumes, nor did Plato seriously claim, that the conversations in his dialogues occurred exactly as he depicts them. Nonetheless, at least in the earlier dialogues, the conversations unfold quite naturally, and the characters are entirely convincing. It is precisely Plato's remarkable skill as a writer that raises doubts about his reliability as a historian. His Socrates is a coherent and exceptionally engaging character that most people could not invent; yet I believe Plato could have done so. Whether he actually did is, of course, another matter entirely.

The dialogue widely regarded as historical is the Apology. This is a rendition of the speech Socrates delivered in his defense at trial. It is, of course, not a verbatim account, but rather what remained in Plato’s memory years after the event—gathered and literarily refined. Plato was present at the trial, and it is quite clear that his account represents his recollection of Socrates’ words and that he intended, in general terms, to create a work of historical character. Given all the qualifications, this is sufficient to provide a distinctly clear description of Socrates' character.

The essential facts surrounding the trial of Socrates are not in dispute. The prosecution was based on the charge that “Socrates violates the law and idly meddles in the things beneath the earth and in the things in heaven, presenting falsehoods as truths and teaching others to do the same.” The genuine basis for the hostility toward Socrates was likely the presumption that he was affiliated with the aristocratic faction, as most of his students belonged to this group, and some of them, while in power, caused considerable harm. However, this presumption could not serve as grounds for conviction due to amnesty. By majority vote, Socrates was found guilty, and according to Athenian law, he could propose a punishment less severe than death. In the case of a guilty verdict, the judges were to select one of two punishments suggested by the prosecution and the defense. Thus, it was in Socrates' interest to propose a punishment sufficiently severe that the court could deem it appropriate to his guilt. Socrates, however, suggested a fine of thirty minae, which some of his friends (including Plato) were willing to pay on his behalf. This was such a light punishment that the court was irritated and sentenced Socrates to death by a majority exceeding that which had found him guilty. Socrates undoubtedly anticipated this outcome. It is clear that he had no desire to evade the death penalty through concessions that might have appeared as an admission of guilt.

The accusers of Socrates were the democratic politician Anytus, the tragic poet Meletus, described as "young and unknown, with smooth hair, a sparse beard, and a hooked nose," and the unknown rhetorician Lycon. They alleged that Socrates was guilty of failing to worship the gods recognized by the state, instead introducing other, new deities, and that he was corrupting the youth, teaching them the same.

Setting aside the unresolved question of the relationship between the Platonic Socrates and the historical Socrates, let us examine what prompts Plato to have him respond to these accusations.

Socrates begins by accusing his accusers of their oratorical skills and counters the charge they bring against him. He states that the only oratory he is capable of is speaking the truth. He implores them not to take offense if he employs his customary manner of expression and does not deliver "a dressed-up speech, adorned with various turns of phrase like theirs." At over seventy years of age, and having never appeared in court before, he requests their forgiveness for his unrefined style of speech.

He then asserts that, aside from his official accusers, he has many unofficial accusers, who, since these judges were children, have claimed that "there is a certain Socrates, a wise man, who examines and investigates all that is above the earth and all that is beneath it, and who confuses truth with falsehood." Socrates observes that such individuals are believed not to believe in the existence of gods. This old charge from public opinion is far more perilous than the official indictment, especially since Socrates does not know who these people are, except for Aristophanes. In response to these longstanding hostile claims, Socrates points out that he is not a scholar and declares that such knowledge "does not concern me at all," asserting that he is not a teacher and does not accept fees for instruction. He mocks the sophists and denies the knowledge they claim. He then says, "…and I will attempt to show you what has truly brought me fame and led to my calumny."

It appears that once the Delphic oracle was asked if any man was wiser than Socrates, and the oracle replied that none existed. Socrates confesses that he was completely bewildered, for he did not regard himself as wise, although the god cannot lie. Thus, he set out to consult those who were considered wise to see if he could convince the god of his error. Socrates first approached a statesman who "only seems wise to many, particularly to himself." He soon discovered that this man was not wise and politely but firmly explained this to him. "As a result, both he and many others present came to hate me." Following this, Socrates sought out the poets and asked them to explain certain passages from their works, but they were unable to do so. "Thus, I quickly learned about the poets that they do not create their works through wisdom, but through some natural gift, as if in a state of frenzy…" Socrates then turned to the craftsmen, but they also disappointed him. In the course of this endeavor, he remarks, he gained many dangerous enemies. Finally, he concluded, "In essence, Athenians, wisdom is revealed to be divine, and through this pronouncement, the god desires to convey that human wisdom is worth little or nothing; it seems that he does not mean Socrates specifically, but employs my name as an example, as if to say: 'Of you, men, the wisest is the one who, like Socrates, knows that his own wisdom is worth nothing.'" This endeavor of exposing those who claim wisdom consumed all of Socrates' time and contributed to his extreme poverty, yet he considered it his duty to affirm the oracle's words.

Socrates remarks that the young men, sons of the wealthiest citizens, who have the most leisure, enjoy listening as he tests people and often, emulating him, attempt to test others, thereby increasing the number of his enemies. "…They do not wish to speak the truth, I think, for then it would be revealed that they merely pretend to know something while in reality they know nothing."

Now, regarding the first accusers.

Socrates now turns to address the arguments of his accuser Meletus, "…a good man, and one who loves our city, as he claims…" Socrates asks Meletus who it is that makes the young men better. At first, Meletus names the judges, but then, under pressure, he is forced to admit step by step that all Athenians, except Socrates, make the young men better, to which Socrates congratulates the city on its fortunate condition. Socrates continues by stating that it is better to live among good people than among the wicked, and therefore he could not be so foolish as to deliberately corrupt his fellow citizens. If he corrupts them unintentionally, then Meletus should not bring him to trial but rather instruct and guide him.

The accusation stated that Socrates not only does not acknowledge the gods recognized by the state but introduces other, his own gods. However, Meletus claims that Socrates is a complete atheist, adding, "…he asserts that the Sun is a stone, and the Moon is the earth…" Socrates replies that Meletus apparently thinks he is accusing Anaxagoras, whose views can be heard in the theater for one drachma (most likely, in the plays of Euripides). Socrates notes, of course, that this new charge of outright atheism contradicts the official accusation itself, and then he shifts to more general considerations.

The remainder of the "Apology" is, in essence, imbued with religious tones. Socrates recalls that when he was a soldier and was commanded, he remained at his post. "If now, when God has placed me in formation, obliging me, as I believe, to live, to engage in philosophy, and to examine myself and others…" it would be as disgraceful to abandon the ranks now as it was during battle. The fear of death is not wisdom, for no one knows whether death may be the greatest of all blessings. If he were offered to preserve his life on the condition that he cease to engage in philosophy as he has done thus far, he would respond: "I am devoted to you, Athenians, and I love you, but I will obey God rather than you, and as long as I breathe and remain able, I will not cease to philosophize, persuade, and convince each of you whom I encounter… I can assure you that this is what God commands, and I believe that there is no greater good in the city than my service to God." He continues further:

"Do not make a commotion, Athenians, fulfill my request: do not create a ruckus at what I say, but listen; I think it will be beneficial for you to hear me. I intend to tell you something that may provoke an outcry from you, yet do not do so under any circumstances.

Be assured that if you condemn me, as I am, you will do more harm to yourselves than to me. I shall suffer no harm from Meletus or Anytus—for they cannot harm me, for I do not think the worse can harm the better. Of course, he can kill or exile or dishonor. He or someone else may consider this a great evil, but I do not; in my view, the far greater evil is what he is now doing, attempting to unjustly condemn a man to death."

Socrates asserts that he defends himself not for his own sake, but for the sake of his judges. He is akin to a gadfly whom God has set to rouse the state, and it will be difficult to find another such individual. "But it may very well happen that, angered like men suddenly awakened from sleep, you will strike me down and easily kill me, obeying Anytus. Then you will spend the rest of your lives in a stupor, unless God, in his concern for you, sends you another like me."

Why, he asks, did he offer such counsel only in private, refraining from public advice on state matters? "The reason lies in what you have often heard from me: something divine or wondrous often occurs with me, something Melitus mocked in his indictment. This began with me in childhood: a certain voice arises, which every time diverts me from what I intend to do, but never urges me toward anything. This voice forbids me from engaging in state affairs." He further remarks that an honest man cannot long survive if he becomes involved in public matters. He cites two examples of how he was reluctantly drawn into state affairs: in the first case, he resisted the democracy, and in the second, the Thirty Tyrants; in each instance, the authorities acted unlawfully.

Socrates notes that many of his former students, as well as their fathers and brothers, are present in the court. None were summoned by the accuser as witnesses to claim that Socrates corrupts the youth—this is nearly the sole argument in the "Apology" that would justify a defense. Socrates refuses to follow the custom of bringing his weeping children to court to soften the hearts of the judges; such pitiable scenes, he argues, render both the accused and the city ridiculous. His aim was to persuade the judges, not to plead for their mercy.

After the verdict is announced and the judges refuse to impose the punishment Socrates proposed—30 minae (in this context, Socrates names Plato as one of his sureties present at the trial)—he delivers his final address: "And now, Athenians, I wish to prophesy your future, you who have condemned me. For the time has come for me when men are especially capable of prophecy—when death is imminent. And I assert, Athenians, who have killed me, that immediately after my death, a heavier punishment will befall you, I swear by Zeus, than the death you have inflicted upon me.

...Indeed, if you think that by killing men you will prevent them from condemning you for living unjustly, you are mistaken. Such a mode of self-defense is neither wholly reliable nor commendable; rather, I present to you the best and easiest method: do not silence others, but strive to become better yourselves..."

He then addresses those judges who voted for his acquittal, stating that throughout this day, his divine sign has not opposed him in either actions or words, although it has often restrained him in other instances during speeches. "I shall tell you: perhaps all this has happened for my benefit, and it seems that the belief of all those who think that death is an evil is misguided." For death is either a dreamless sleep, which offers remarkable benefit, or the soul's passage to another world. "What would any of you not give to be with Orpheus, Musaeus, Hesiod, Homer! I would gladly die many times, if all this is true..." In the afterlife, he would converse with others who have died as a result of unjust legal judgments, and moreover, he would continue to acquire knowledge. "In any case, there, they will not punish for this. Besides, those who dwell there are happier than those here, also in that they remain immortal forever, if the tradition holds true...

But it is time to depart from here; I—to die, you—to live; and which of these is better is known to no one, except God."

The "Apology of Socrates" presents a vivid portrayal of a specific type of man: one who is self-assured, magnanimous, indifferent to earthly success, believing himself guided by a divine voice, and convinced that the clearest thinking is the most essential condition for a virtuous life. Excluding the last point, Socrates resembles a Christian martyr or a Puritan. In the latter part of his speech, where he discusses what occurs after death, one cannot help but sense that he firmly believes in immortality, and that the uncertainty he expresses is merely feigned. Unlike Christians, he is not troubled by the fear of eternal torment; he has no doubt that his life in the afterlife will be joyful. In "Phaedo," the Platonic Socrates presents arguments for the belief in immortality. Whether these arguments influenced the historical Socrates is uncertain.

There is hardly any doubt that the historical Socrates asserted that he was guided by an oracle or a daemon. It is impossible to establish whether this is analogous to what a Christian would call an inner voice or if it manifested to him as an actual voice. Joan of Arc was inspired by voices, which represents a common symptom of mental illness. Socrates was subject to cataleptic trances; in any case, this appears to be a natural explanation for an incident that once occurred while he was on military service: "One morning, he pondered something and, lost in thought, became motionless. As he was not progressing in his endeavor, he did not cease his search, remaining standing. By noon, those who noticed were astonished, saying to one another that Socrates had stood in one place, lost in contemplation, since morning. Finally, in the evening, after some had dined, some Ionians—since it was summer—took their mats outside to sleep in the cool and also to observe whether Socrates would remain standing in the same place through the night. It turned out that he stood there until dawn and the rising of the sun, after which, having prayed to the sun, he departed."

Such incidents were less common for Socrates. At the beginning of "Symposium," Plato describes how Socrates and Aristodemus set off together to a dinner, but Socrates, being in a distracted state, fell behind Aristodemus. Upon arriving, the host, Agathon, asked, "But why did you not bring Socrates with you?" Aristodemus, surprised to find Socrates missing, sent a servant to search for him, and the servant found him at the neighbor's entrance. "Socrates has turned back and is now standing in the hallway of the neighboring house, and refuses to come at the call," said the servant. Those who knew Socrates well explained that "it is simply his habit to wander off somewhere and stand there." They left Socrates alone, and he came when the dinner was already halfway done.

Everyone agrees that Socrates was exceedingly unattractive; he was snub-nosed and portly. He was "…more unsightly than all the silens in satirical dramas." He was always dressed in old, tattered clothes and walked barefoot everywhere. His indifference to heat and cold, hunger and thirst astonished everyone. In Plato's "Symposium," Alcibiades, describing Socrates during military service, states the following: "...In endurance, he surpassed not only me but everyone. When we found ourselves cut off and inevitably, as often happens in campaigns, starving, no one could compare to him in endurance...

...Likewise, he endured the winter cold—harsh winters—remarkably well; once, during a terrible frost when others either did not go outside at all or emerged swaddled in layers of clothing and boots, wrapping their feet in felt and sheepskin, he went out in such weather in his usual cloak, walking barefoot on the ice more easily than others, who were shod. And the soldiers cast sidelong glances at him, thinking that he was mocking them..."

The ability of Socrates to dominate all corporeal passions is constantly emphasized. He rarely drank wine, but when he did, he could outdrink anyone; yet, no one ever saw him drunk. In matters of love, even under the most intense temptations, he remained “Platonic,” if Plato speaks the truth. He was the perfect Orphic saint: in the dualism of the heavenly soul and earthly body, he achieved complete mastery of the soul over the body. The decisive evidence of this mastery is his indifference to death. At the same time, Socrates does not conform to the orthodox Orphic tradition. He accepts only the fundamental doctrines, rejecting superstitions and purification rituals.

The Platonic Socrates anticipates both the Stoics and the Cynics. The Stoics asserted that the highest good is virtue and that a person cannot be deprived of virtue due to external circumstances; this theory is implied in Socrates’ assertion that his judges cannot harm him. The Cynics despised earthly goods and expressed this disdain by avoiding the comforts of civilization; this perspective also led Socrates to walk barefoot and dress poorly.

It seems quite certain that Socrates was engrossed in ethical questions rather than scientific ones. As we have seen, he states in the “Apology” that such knowledge “...does not concern me at all.” The earliest of Plato’s dialogues, generally considered the most Socratic, are mainly dedicated to the search for definitions of ethical terms. “Charmides” is devoted to defining moderation or temperance; “Lysis” addresses friendship; “Lachetes” explores courage. None of these dialogues arrive at conclusions, but Socrates clearly articulates his belief in the importance of examining these questions. The Platonic Socrates consistently claims to know nothing, asserting that he is wiser than others in recognizing his own ignorance; however, he does not consider knowledge to be unattainable. On the contrary, he believes that acquiring knowledge is of paramount importance. He asserts that no one sins consciously, and therefore it is merely knowledge that is required to make all people completely virtuous.

For both Socrates and Plato, the assertion of a close connection between virtue and knowledge is characteristic. To some extent, this is emblematic of all Greek philosophy in contrast to Christian philosophy. According to Christian ethics, a pure heart is essential, which can be found with equal probability among both the ignorant and the learned. This distinction between Greek and Christian ethics has persisted into relatively recent times.

The dialectic, that is, the method of acquiring knowledge through questions and answers, was not invented by Socrates. It appears to have been systematically employed in practice for the first time by Zeno, a student of Parmenides. In Plato’s dialogue “Parmenides,” Zeno subjects Socrates to the same kind of treatment that Socrates, as depicted throughout Plato’s works, subjects others to. However, there are ample grounds to suggest that Socrates practiced and developed this method. As we have seen, when Socrates was sentenced to death, he joyfully reflected that in the afterlife he could continue to ask questions forever and would not be subject to death, as he would be immortal. Indeed, if he employed dialectic as described in the “Apology,” it is easy to understand the hostility towards him: all the braggarts in Athens must have united against him.

The dialectical method is suitable for certain questions and inappropriate for others. It is likely that this method defined the character of Plato’s inquiries, which were largely such that they could be addressed in this manner. As a result of Plato’s influence, nearly all subsequent philosophy has been constrained by the limitations stemming from his method.

Certain questions are clearly ill-suited for this approach, such as those pertaining to empirical science. Indeed, Galileo employed dialogues to defend his theories, but this was done merely to overcome prejudice: the positive foundations for his discoveries could hardly be presented in dialogue without considerable artificiality. In Plato’s works, Socrates always claims that he merely brings to light knowledge that the person he is testing already possesses. On this basis, he likens himself to a midwife. When in “Phaedo” and “Meno” he applies his method to problems of geometry, he must ask leading questions that no judge would permit. This method is in harmony with the theory of recollection, according to which we recognize through remembrance what we knew in our previous existence. In contrast, consider any discovery made through the use of a microscope, such as the spread of diseases by bacteria; it is hardly reasonable to assert that such knowledge could be revealed in an uninformed individual through the method of questions and answers.

Questions that can be addressed through Socratic method are those for which we already possess sufficient knowledge to arrive at a correct conclusion, yet due to confusion or insufficient analysis, we have failed to logically utilize what we know. A question like “What is justice?” is entirely appropriate for discussion in a Platonic dialogue. We all freely use the terms “just” and “unjust,” and by examining how we use these words, we may inductively arrive at a definition that best corresponds to their usage. It requires only knowledge of how these words are applied in the inquiry. However, when our investigation concludes, it may turn out that we have made merely a linguistic discovery, rather than an ethical one.

Nevertheless, we can fruitfully apply this method to a broader array of cases. When the subject under discussion is more logical than factual, then discussion serves as a good method for uncovering truth. Suppose someone asserts, for example, that democracy is good, but that individuals holding certain opinions should not be allowed to vote; we can persuade such a person that they are inconsistent and demonstrate that at least one of their two assertions must be more or less erroneous. I believe that logical errors bear greater practical significance than many assume: they allow individuals to maintain convenient opinions on every issue. Any logically coherent theory must be somewhat burdensome and contradict widely held prejudices. The dialectical method, or, more generally, the habit of free discussion, leads to logical consistency and is thus useful in this respect. However, it is utterly unsuitable when the aim is to uncover new facts. Perhaps “philosophy” could be defined as a collection of inquiries that can be conducted through the methods of Plato. But if such a definition holds, it is due to Plato’s influence on subsequent philosophers.