We’ve talked about several responses to the Parmenides that face significant problems. I’m not sure what’s wrong with the two responses below:
1.
Cornford thinks that in Plato’s Parmenides, Parmenides argues (and here I’ll paraphrase for the sake of making a point) that nothing is itself by itself.
Plato’s Theaetetus might support this interpretation. In that dialogue (which we know that Cornford has worked on extensively), Socrates speaking as Protagoras utters the thesis that nothing is itself by itself.
Of course, Parmenides and Protagoras affirm this thesis for very different reasons. For Parmenides, nothing is itself by itself because everything is one thing. For Protagoras, nothing is itself by itself because everything is perception-relative, and thus subject to the Heraclitean flux.
Plato, as always, splits the difference between these perspectives. By positing both a changing physical world and a world of unchanging forms, Plato allows for the existence of things themselves by themselves. The forms are one such thing. The soul, given Socrates’s discussion in the Theaetetus of the soul by itself for itself reaching out towards the common features of things, is another thing that is itself by itself.
This reading of the Parmenides has several attractive features. It’s consistent with the discussion of the soul by itself for itself in the Theaetetus. It doesn’t commit us to a developmental reading or a dramatic dating reading of the Platonic dialogues overall. However, a more precise Platonic response to the Parmenidean and Protagorean challenge is possible.
2.
Eric Sanday thinks that Plato need not shift all of the explanatory work over to the forms. In his paper on the Parmenides, Eleatic Metaphysics in Plato’s Parmenides : Zeno’s Puzzle of Plurality, Sanday claims that Plato splits the difference between Parmenides and Protagoras differently than merely appealing to the forms and the soul being by themselves. Sanday disagrees with the interpretation that I’ve described above that “individuals seem to have no character of their own, because all explanatory force is shifted over to the forms” (221). That is, Sanday thinks that something other than the forms might do at least some explanatory work for Plato. He thinks that the context of an action contributes to the meaning of that action.
For example, we need to look at the context of someone stabbing with a spear in order to render that motion intelligible. Instead of determining an action’s meaning through discussing the forms an action participates in, we can discuss the action’s meaning through appealing to the forms that render that action intelligible. This helps us move away from a picture of Plato in which “spooky” or “queer” forms determine the reality of things on the ground. Instead, Sanday thinks that the forms lack content. Forms determine the intelligibility of things here on the ground.
Thus, Sanday writes: “the intelligibility of things is bound up with other things in an overall context that is in the process of being decided” (221).
This has the strange consequence of making Plato a process thinker of sorts. But perhaps some might welcome this reading of a Plato in between flux and determinacy, between Protagoras and Parmenides, a Plato whose character Socrates is always in search of Goodness, Truth, and Beauty.
