Tag Archives: tyranny

Philosophy and politics in Symposium

Posted on by
2

We cannot help but notice that the events Symposium occur in the context of Socrates’ Apology. It is therefore reasonable to think about philosophy and it relation to the city in this wine-soaked atmosphere.

The first task of philosophy is to distinguish itself from arguments that either deny it usefulness, nobility, or possibility. Thus Socrates draws significant lines between his speech and the speeches of his fellow revelers. He asserts its possibility against Aristophanes, its relevance against Pausanias, its nobility against Agathon, and its limits against Eryximachus. No other study is capable of marking out the bounds and worth of philosophy other than philosophy itself.

Socrates criticizes the customs of Athens regarding love. What political significance does this have? Philosophy, in this capacity questions opinions commonly held as to what is good for human beings. Pausanias especially comes to mind. Thus, at first, it seems that the philosophy is somehow antithetical to the politics, and the philosopher is eccentric with regard to his city. He questions the good (Agathon), and thus the foundation of the city

But this does not place Socrates is opposition to Athens. Rather he seeks to correct it and protect it, and even work for its flourishing. He argues for a true belief about love that is neither impious nor unphilosophical. He connects love to procreation, either of children or ideas. Both of these are common goods, and thus he defends the possibility of a just city.

It seems clear that children are common goods. Children cannot exist except as the product of two. Furthermore, not just any two are necessary, but a man and a woman. Thus, there is not only a difference in number, but also of kind. (I realize it is a bit contentious to say a difference in kind, but we Plato allows his speakers to talk about “male nature” and “female nature”, so I think I’m allowed.) The child is a good, and not good in the same way that wine or pleasure is good. Wine must be divided into parts, and taken by each particular reveler, making each’s portion ultimately a good private to each. Similarly, since pleasure is a good particular to the body that feels it, it is also a private good. However, children do not belong to either parent particularly, because both are a cause of the child. Moreover, the child is a kind of final cause of the parents. He is the sort of final cause which is properly the pursuit of community, and not of private individuals.

Claiming that a child is a common good of the parents is not particularly problematic, though it may make us rethink certain cultural assumptions about rights and duties. To say that ideas are common is more contentious. After all, Socrates lags behind Aristodemus, and thinks by himself. Many of us think that the activity of the philosopher is to sit in a room by himself and reinvent the philosophic wheel. But the philosophy of Socrates takes place in conversation, which requires more than one. Thus, the activity of philosophy, as presented by Plato, is a sort of common good, in that it blossoms among many rather than in just one.

Wisdom is not like water. It does not fill up the soul of the learner and diminish in the soul of the teacher. Is it shared? It seems that it is. Diotima transmitted  her philosophy of love to Socrates, and he transmits it to his listeners. Also, Aristophanes asks his listeners to repeat his story to others. The entire action of Symposium is given to us through fourth hand. This, I believe, reveals the axiom that truth is one. If truth is one, and many can hold true things in their soul, than truth is a common good. If truth is a common good, and philosophy is the quest for truth, a quest only possible in community, than philosophy is a good common to all. As Aristotle pointed out, all men desire to know.

Plato reveals characteristics of common goods in Symposium. Common goods may the effect of many agents. Common goods may be held by many without diminishing the good. Common goods may properly belong to many or all rather than one.

There are  a couple of interesting things I’d like to pull out from all that. One is defending the possibility of the common good. All of the speeches before his own emphasized the private good over the common good, something curious in speeches about love. Generally there was the satisfaction of desire (Aristophanes), or a kind of bargaining looking to the private advantage of each(virtue for sexual passivity, or gold for bronze, as Socrates puts it.) By defending the possibility of common goods, Socrates defends the possibility of human community and further, political community. Philosophy, rather than being opposed to politics, can provide the grounds for justice and the nobility of the political life. Rather than relying on myth or the aggregation of private interests to found politics, we can turn to philosophy and a real common good.

But could we go even further? Is it possible that philosopher does not need only defend the possibility of political community, but it itself could be a common good of politics? The noisy interruption of Alcibiades is what brings this to mind – a man who could have philosophized but rather attempted to tyrannize. If statesmen philosophized, and the parts of the political community saw truth as a good rather than pleasure, could politics be perfected? I wouldn’t think all would need to be adept at dialectic – rather, all could live “philosophically”, that is, with eros directed by reason.

I think I will leave this as a suggestion for now.

 

Another Symposium post

Posted on by
4

Class on Wednesday was excellent. The attention to the speeches that my classmates showed was truly admirable. I hope that in the future we can have many more conversations as stimulating. I was disappointed when class ended, I have to admit. But if you leave a class thirsting for more, that can only be a good thing.

I appreciated Allie’s questions on the role of sexuality in the dialogue. When I first read Symposium years ago, I thought the question of sexuality was not very important as the important themes were about the good, the beautiful, and the relationship of love to each, as well as other things. I continued thinking so until last Monday, when I was re-reading the dialogue. It occurred to me that the persistent portrayal of homosexuality to the reader throughout the writing, along with the persistent themes of femininity and heterosexuality, must force the reader to think about the role of sexuality in human life, both on the individual and political level. Now, I still do not think that Socrates identifies the philosophic life with the homosexual life – it seems that properly speaking, the philosopher does not engage in sexual activity. I think this in part because of Socrates’ response to Alcibiades’ proposition, the apparent lack of sexual tension between Socrates and Diotima, and because the philosopher is in some way too interested in reality and being awake to be that concerned with the pleasures of the body.

Allie made me realize the human sexuality could really be an important question in Symposium. Do we think that custom excuses any sort of sexual behavior, as Pausanias argues? What about pure biology – to genes determine everything, and we as rational agents are helpless to direct ourselves, as Aristophanes could argue? Can we as rational beings completely control biology and hence sexual proclivities, as Eryximachus might argue? Finally, because I’m interested in politics: what bearing do individual choices about sex have on the common good of the political community? Has Alcibiades developed a tyrannical and (wretchedly) cosmopolitan soul in part due to his bedroom activities? The importance he places on his attempted seduction of Socrates and his less than admirable political career do make me wonder.

 

Some thoughts on love

Posted on by
14

Seems appropriate to say something about love on St. Valentine’s day. Happily, what is appropriate coincides with class requirements.

I’ve payed especial attention to the speeches of Pausanias, Eryximachus, and Aristophanes, mostly because they all seem to touch on man’s relation to the divine, and either correct each other or supplement. Agathon’s also talks about the divine, and, in a way, perfects some of the errors contained in each of those mentioned above. Is there clearly an “ascent”? I’m not sure what the word would even mean in this case. Each speaker presents his own vision, and I’m not sure how we can rank them. There are certainly shared themes, but I’m not sure that allows to speak in terms of an “ascent”. 

Pausanias, on the surface, seems to be a defender of virtue and “good” love. He seems to be an ally in the quest to find out the essence of love. His view of the absolute license allowed a lover is seriously questionable, though. He believes that virtue should be the product of love,. But how could that be the case, when the lover, the example, shows complete lack of restraint? Furthermore, the lover is completely slavish with respect to the beloved (184c). Thus, love is a sort of mastery. Mastery, of course, is rule looking to advantage of the master, and the slave only accidentally. Indeed, mastery is primarily self-love. This theme of mastery is contained in all the speeches, and is wonderfully developed by Aristophanes. There are a couple of further problems, however. The first is that he disconnects man from the divine. Although he says there are two kinds of Aphrodite (this was interesting, but opened Pausanias up to a Socratic critique), he keeps the activity of love itself entirely on earth, particularly in the city. He frequently speaks of the love customs of Athens, and how they are superior to those of either tribal cultures or the Persians (182b-c). While there is nothing wrong with praising one’s own love customs, there are two points to consider. Pausanias never attributes “good” love to the agency of Urania, but rather simply to the good laws of Athens. This seems to a sort of pelagian attempt to make man the cause of his noblest activity, love.  He merely notes similitude, a similitude that comes about due to the Athenian regime (181c). Thus, the divine has nothing to do with what causes the love customs. It would seem that if the divine does not show us the way, perhaps philosophy could. But philosophy attempts to understand nature, and move past pure convention. Pausanias never attempts to ground love in man’s nature. It is purely the product of law. Thus, the politician and legislator is the ultimate cause of love, and good love is no more than a good politics.

It might seem that Eryximachus corrects Pausnias; after all, he grounds love in nature to some extent. It might seem that Eryximachus is opening the door for a philosophic understanding of love, especially as he brings up nature as whole and connecting human love with natural love. Unfortunately, the doctor lets us down. He assumes that he has perfect knowledge of nature, and thus can control it (186e). Likewise, he sees the science of music as controlling the elements of music – there is no natural consonance upon which music is founded, but rather the musician masters the tones and forces consonance. There is no such thing as art imitating nature for Eryximachus; there is only human will. He is not finished with controlling human love, nature, and music, however. He also believes that one can control the gods (188c-d).  Eryximachus does not correct Pausanias, but rather amplifies the problematic impiety.  Furthermore, the theme of mastery reaches a pitch surpassed only by Agathon, insofar as the scientist controls humanity, nature, and the divine.

I’ve reached my word limit, I think. Just a couple words about Aristophanes.

First, he is the only speaker, aside from Socrates, to realize the grave consequences of his words, especially with respect to the divine. He introduces piety in the conversation again be recognizing the lesser status of men (190d). Agathon ignores this correction (196e). Secondly, he sees the love relationship to be one of equals; both parties are lovers and both are semi-circles, equally needing each other. Equality, and thus a path out of mastery, is introduced. However, this path also threatens to destroy the reality of two persons. Once two semi-circles are joined, there is something new, namely a circle. When Aristophanes speaks of becoming one with a lover, he really means a sort of devouring, a subsumption which destroys individuality (192e). In a way, by doing away with mastery, Aristophanes has embraced the ultimate form of self-love, one in which oneself is indistinguishable from one’s lover. No wonder he has no partner – it would immediately reveal the problem of his story.

I suspect that this flaw comes from his understanding of love primarily being a sort of je ne sais quoi, but a simple desire and need to quench that desire (192c).  In fact, love is a wound needing to be healed; it is essentially self-directed rather than other direct. The other is only a means to our own gratification. The inherent selfishness of Aristophanes’ love is pointed out by Plato at 192b. If a man truly loved his own kind, why on earth would be not reproduce? The manly men of politics only love themselves, and are uninterested in seeing the good of the human species furthered. (It’s possible that this is a rebuke of Pausanias; thoughts, anyone?)

I’m not sure what to think about Phaedrus. I suspect he sets the stage, more than anything else.

Diotima, I think, answers most if not all of the problems I mentioned. Does introducing reproduction as essential to love answer many of the problems about self-love and mastery? Reproduction affirms the goodness of one’s own, and the other; both terms of the love relation are worth becoming immortal in some way.

Fear and Loathing in Athens

Posted on by
3

The verdict of the Athenian assembly against Socrates reflects the reader’s feelings toward Athens. It is clear that it is more the city that is on trial in Apology rather than Socrates himself. His able and powerful defense, and then accusation against Meletus is proof enough of that. He accuses Athens of violence and insolence, and having experienced Socrates’ conversations with Charmides and Euthyphro, the reader should heartily agree with him.

In Charmides, the virtue in question is temperance, or moderation. The whole of the dialogue is ostensibly a search for the nature of moderation; unsurprisingly, the search fails. If, however, the reader is familiar with Republic, he should be aware that Socrates claims that moderation has two effects: self-mastery and obedience. (389e) At first blush, this may seem perfectly understandable: one ought to master his passions and be obedient to authority. Upon further reflection, Socrates’ account of moderation is somewhat paradoxical: if one can rule himself, why does he need to be ruled by another?

This paradox is revealed in Charmides as well. Critias claims that his ward possesses moderation in spades, and indeed Charmides does, in a certain respect. Socrates asks him what moderation is, since that will show whether he has it or not.The young man  first claims that moderation is a sort of quietness, something akin to docility, a quality dispositive toward obedience. (159b) This is certainly a quality the Charmides possesses, so it stands to reason that he should call moderation thus. (155b, 159b, 176c) This could account for the unthinking acceptance of Socrates’ laughably bad arguments –  Charmides lacks the spirit to contradict a perceived authority. (c.f. 410d) Charmides, then, possesses a part of moderation, the part that makes one obedient. I can find no evidence for him possessing self-mastery, and indeed, the text suggests that he is mastered by his passions rather than otherwise. (155b) Here lies a curiosity, in that Charmides’ excessive docility tilts him toward one part of moderation, namely obedience. This results in him threatening Socrates with violence, in obedience to his tyrannical guardian. (176c)  The curiosity is that excessive obedience, which stems from a lack a spirit, results in violence – I can only presume that when the soul is perverted by a sort of imbalance, strange things will happen. Of course, the reversion to violence suggests a lack of moderation by both the future tyrants.

The above is meant to show that Charmides seems to have a bit of moderation, if one can say such a thing. Maybe a better way of putting it would be that he has a facade of the virtue – he is obedient enough to convince his guardian that he is truly moderate. That facade masks a systemic lack of self-mastery, as noted, which is possibly the hallmark of a tyrannical man, and furthermore a proclivity for violence rather than speech, persuasion and ultimately reason. This preference for violence rather than persuasion reveals a sort of misology, and makes me wonder if a philosophic soul must be moderate before it can truly philosophize. I think this must be true, in part because Socrates himself clearly possesses moderation, at least according to the account given in Republic. (155d, 176d; the last words of the dialogue are Socrates acquiescing to Charmides. Further proof of his obedience is in Apology and Crito.) Charmides, an unphilosophic lad, uses his facade of obedience to disguise his violent soul. Socrates, by exposing his facade, shows his true nature; he has truly undressed his soul. (154e)

Socrates continues his psychic undressing with Euthyphro. Euthyphro, like Charmides, has a facade of virtue. He protests his piety, and seems to try to convince us the readers by wanton reference to the gods and the divine. (4e) As with Charmides, Socrates exposes his interlocutor as a fraud, and his virtue as a mere facade. And again, as with Charmides, the false virtue of Euthyphro reveals itself to be more just privation. As Charmides is violent, so Euthyphro is insolent toward the gods. By claiming that the divine actions are completely within his ken, he shows himself too familiar with them in intention, if not in reality. Socrates, by insisting on his own ignorance, pays more respect to the otherness of the divine. It is worth noting that in this dialogue, Socrates gives the reader a good idea of the what piety truly is, namely some sort of justice, probably in relation to the divine. By claiming his own ignorance, Socrates respects the otherness of the divine, and thus acts justly, that is, piously. Piety, in fact, expresses itself as humility – there is only so much the human mind can understand, and the rest is mystery. I suspect that pious humility is another prerequisite of philosophic understanding. After all, if one thinks he knows it all, how can he wonder? And if he cannot wonder, how can he philosophize?

But doesn’t this presuppose that Socrates actually does posses some knowledge, knowledge he disavows?  I doubt that Socrates is truly ignorant of the gods, piety, moderation, and the divine. Furthermore, to say that he is being ironic does not get us very far – why is he being ironic? As I pointed out above, he has both moderation and piety, while his interlocutors seem to possess the opposite of these qualities. If he has them, why does he say that only thing he knows is that he does not know? (23b) I think he may be speaking metaphorically – although he has the virtues, which allow his to philosophize, he also has a sort of the receptivity to reality that allows him think philosophically. His protestations of ignorance, I think, are a sort of poetic way of saying he understands the humility necessary for philosophy, and the importance of understanding the limitations of the human intellect. It is worth noting that probably the most famous statement about Socratic irony came from Thrasymachus, a man both violent and insolent.

Socrates speaks the truth when he claims that Athens is violent and insolent. If I am correct in my above musings, this would result from immoderation and impiety. This may in part explain the fractiousness of Athenian politics – if the city had possessed true virtue, it may have been better preserved. It also shows that Socrates really was performing a public service – he was exposing bad men to be such. Finally, it shows that Athens as a whole is incapable of philosophy. I do not know if there is a city that is capable of philosophy as a whole – attaining the prerequisite moderation and piety would be difficult enough.

 

If I recall Dr. Schultz’s parameters, I’ve already rambled overlong. If someone reads this, I hope you enjoy.

Liberal education and tyranny

Posted on by
2

Since Charmides is about temperance and the knowledge which is the most beneficial for living, it is unsurprising that there be political undertones to the dialogue. Although I do not think that Socrates’ arguments about temperance and the science of sciences are unimportant, it could be that they are ancillary to a commentary about liberal education and political power. A striking feature of Charmides is the way Socrates argues against the eponymous boy, and how he argues with his guardian, and I think, shows a connection between education and freedom.

It has been a few years since I took formal logic, but I can find no way in which Socrates’ arguments against Charmides’ definitions of temperance follow. Socrates’ first argument, if I followed it correctly, is that quick actions are admirable, some admirable actions are temperate, therefore quick actions are temperate. I don’t see how this follows. (Please correct me if I’m wrong.) At best, Socrates has shown that some admirable actions are quick, and not that it is impossible for some admirable actions to be slow.

The second argument is even worse. Socrates ignores Telemachus’ qualification that modesty is unbecoming to the needy man, and argues about man simply. Charmides catches neither of these flaws. Instead, he offers a third definition, one which he heard from another. Socrates call Charmides a “wretch,” because Charmides did not think of the definition and does not know what it means. Socrates does not even need to refute this definition, but merely show that Charmides is parroting someone else, namely Critias.

Socrates, as far as I can tell, offers valid arguments to Critias. I haven’t checked them all, but at first blush they seemed to follow. If it is the case that Socrates argues badly against Charmides and well against Critias, it is not unreasonable to think that Socrates is purposeful in his maladroit reasoning against Charmides. I suspect it may be as a sort of test, to see how well Charmides can think for himself, how awake he is rather than asleep. (156d, 169d4) As far as I can tell, Charmides fails completely. He cannot defend himself against Socrates rather feeble arguments, and has to look, quite literally, to his guardian for help. Socrates says that the relationship between Critias and Charmides is as a poet to an actor. Indeed, Charmides is nether the poet nor the philosopher that Critias claims he is, but is a puppet of Critias.

It is no wonder that Socrates is vexed for Charmides at the end of the dialogue. Critias, as the guardian of Charmides, has failed completely regarding the most important part of his ward, his soul. Charmides is in no way liberally educated if he cannot think for himself. The end of the dialogue shows the grim consequences of the soul without liberal education. Critias admits that he doesn’t know whether Charmides has temperance, and tell his ward to prove it by being charmed by Socrates every day. Of course, Socrates may have other things to do, seeing as he just got back from Potidaea. Charmides says that Socrates will have to submit to force if he doesn’t agree, because Critias has given Charmides his orders. As Socrates points out, there is no use in counsel, because Charmides is apparently incapable of independent thought. Is the result of Charmides’ education, or lack thereof, a docility toward questionable authority (Critias), as well as tyrannical instincts in his own soul? (156a, 176d)  The action of the dialogue makes me think so.

I must cut this short, since I’ve reached the word limit. Hope it makes sense.