The Sophist corrects the Phaedrus

In my preceding post I pointed out that the Sophist points to aspects of the Phaedrus, with which it is in agreement. Now I shall focus on points where the Sophist corrects the Phaedrus.

In the Phaedrus adoleschia figures as a term of high praise:

Socrates: ‘I am inclined to think (Kinduneuei), my good friend (ȏ ariste), that it was not surprising that Pericles became the most finished exponent of rhetoric there has ever been (eikotȏs ho Periklȇs pantȏn teleȏtatos eis tȇn rȇtorikȏn genesthai) … All the great arts need supplementing by a study of Nature: your artist must cultivate adoleschia (‘garrulity’, ‘loquacity’, ‘babbling’, ‘idle talking’ are all inadequate renderings at this place) and high-flown speculation (Pasai hois megalai tȏn technȏn prosdeontai adoleschias kai meteȏrologias phuseȏs peri); from that source alone can come the mental elevation and thoroughly finished execution (to gar hupsȇlonoun touto kai pantȇi telesiourgon eoiken enteuthen pothen eisienai); and that is what Pericles acquired to supplement his inborn capacity (ho kai Periklȇs pros tȏi euphuȇs einai ektȇsato)’ (Phdr. 269e1-270a3, tr. R. Hackforth).

In the Sophist the term adoleschia is used with contempt. In a division, which is set aside on the way to the fifth definition of the Sophist, the Eleatic Stranger says: ‘I should say (Dokȏ mȇn) that the habit which leads a man to neglect his own affairs for the pleasure of conversation (to ge di’ hȇdonȇn tȇs peri tauta diatribȇs ameles tȏn oikeiȏn gignomenon), of which the style is far from being agreeable to the majority of his hearers (peri de tȇn lexin tois pollois tȏn akouontȏn ou meth’ hȇdonȇs akouomenon), may be fairly termed loquacity: such is my opinion (kaleisthai kata gnȏmȇn tȇn emȇn ouch heteron adoleschikou).’ – Theaetetus: ‘That is the common name for it (Legetai gar oun houtȏ pȏs).’ (Soph. 225d7-11, tr. B. Jowett)

In using the term adoleschia with disdain, the Sophist is in agreement with its use elsewhere in Plato. So why does it cause such a problem to distinguished interpreters of the Sophist? Cornford, translating adoleschikon as ‘babbling’, asks ‘Who are these babblers?’ and goes on to say: ‘I cannot agree with Campbell that Socrates is meant, though he did neglect his affairs and become poor in pursuit of his mission; nor with Diès that babbler is the true dialectician. This would make the true philosopher a species of Eristic, arguing for fame or victory. It is true that the term “babbling” was applied to philosophy by its enemies and in particular to Socratic conversation. Plato himself adopts it as a left-handed complement, together with meteȏrologos, the term of reproach for Ionian science. This suggests that the babblers here, who do not take fees, must be some followers of Socrates who could also be described as Eristics. There can be little doubt that the Megareans are meant, as Susemihl suggested. They were also followers of the Eleatic school, and at Phaedrus 261c disputation (antilogikȇ) includes, together with political and forensic oratory, the dialectical arguments of Zeno, “the Eleatic Palamedes” – his art of “making the same things appear to his hearers both like and unlike, one and many, at rest and moving”. The whole is condemned as an art of deception.’ (Cornford, Plato’s Theory of Knowledge, 1935, third impression 1949, pp. 176-7).

Cornford is wrong when he says that in the Phaedrus the whole art of disputation (antilogikȇ) ‘is condemned as an art of deception’. True, in the Phaedrus antilogikȇ is characterised as the art of deception (apatȇ, 261e6), but it is not condemned, far from it. It is viewed as essential to rhetoric, coming to the fore in Socrates’ conception of scientific rhetoric (rȇtorikȇ technȇ, 261a7) defined by him as psuchagȏgia (‘leading of the soul’). Let me begin with Socrates’ definition:

‘Well then (Ar’ oun), will not the science of rhetoric as a whole be a kind of leading of the soul by means of things said (ou to men holon hȇ rȇtorikȇ an eiȇ technȇ psuchagȏgia tis dia logȏn), not only in law-courts (ou monon in dikastȇriois) and all other kinds of public gatherings (kai hosoi alloi dȇmosioi sullogoi), but in private ones too (alla kai en idiois) – the same science (hȇ autȇ), whether it is concerned with small matters or large ones (smikrȏn te kai megalȏn peri), and something which possesses no more value (kai ouden entimoteron), if properly understood (to ge orthon), when it comes into play with things of importance than when it does with things of no importance (peri spoudaia ȇ peri phaula gignomenon)? Is this what you’ve heard about it (ȇ pȏs su tauta akȇkoas;)?’ – Phaedrus; ‘No, I must say (Ou ma ton Di’), not absolutely that (ou pantapasin houtȏs): a science of speaking and writing is perhaps especially employed in lawsuits (alla malista men pȏs peri tas dikas legetai te kai graphetai technȇi), though also in public addresses (legetai de kai peri dȏmȇgorias); I have not heard of any extension of it beyond that (epi pleon de ouk akȇkoa).’ (Phdr. 261a7-b5, tr. C.J. Rowe)

Socrates’ question ‘Is this what you’ve heard about it?’ and Phaedrus’ rejoinder ‘No, I must say …’ emphasises the fact that the definition of rhetoric as psuchagȏgia introduces a new conception of rhetoric, which is fundamental to the conception of it outlined in the Phaedrus. In the discussion that followed Socrates substantiated it:

Socrates: ‘What is it that the opposing parties in the law-courts do (en dikastȇriois hoi antidikoi ti drȏsin;)? Isn’t it just speaking in opposition to each other (ouk antilegousin mentoi;)?’ – Phaedrus: ‘Just that (Tout’ auto).’ – S.: ‘On the subject of what is just (peri tou dikaiou te) and unjust (kai adikou;)? – P.: ‘Yes (Nai).’ – S.: ‘So the man who does this scientifically (Oukoun ho technȇi touto drȏn) will make the same thing appear (poiȇsei phanȇnai to auto) to the same people (tois autois) at one time just (tote men dikaion), but at any time he wishes (hotan de boulȇtai), unjust (adikon;)?’ – P.: ‘Certainly (Ti mȇn;).’ – S.: ‘And in public addresses (Kai en dȇmȇgoriai dȇ tȇi polei) he will make the same things (dokein ta auta) appear at one time good (tote men agatha), at another time the opposite (tote d’ au t’anantia;)?’ – P.: ‘Just so (Houtȏs).’ (261c4-d5) Socrates went on to explain how the intended deception (apatȇ, 261e6) was to be achieved scientifically (technȇi, 261c10).

In the Sophist the notion of antilogikȇ, which comes to the fore in divisions that pave the way to the fifth definition of the Sophist, corresponds to its conception in the Phaedrus. The Eleatic Stranger: ‘And when the war is one of words (Tȏi de [machȇtikȏi, 225a5] logois pros logous), it may be termed controversy (ti tis allo eipȇi plȇn amphisbȇtikon;)?’ – Theaetetus: ‘Yes’ (Ouden)- Str.: ‘And controversy may be of two kinds (To de ge peri tas amphisbȇtȇseis theteon ditton).’ – Th.: ‘What are they (Pȇi)?’ – Str.: ‘When long speeches are answered by long speeches (Kath’ hoson men gar gignetai mȇkesi te pros enantia mȇkȇ logȏn), and there is public discussion about the just and unjust (kai peri dikaia kai adika dȇmosiai), that is forensic controversy (dikanikon).’ – Th. ‘Yes’ (Nai). – Str.: ‘And there is a private sort of controversy (To d’ en tois idiois au), which is cut up into questions and answers (kai katakekermatismenon erȏtȇsesi pros apokriseis), and that is commonly called disputation (m’ȏn eithismetha kalein allo plȇn antilogikon;)?’ – Th. ‘Yes, that is the name (Ouden).’ … Str.: ‘I should say (Dokȏ mȇn) that the habit which leads a man to neglect his own affairs for the pleasure of conversation (to ge di’ hȇdonȇn tȇs peri tauta diatribȇs ameles tȏn oikeiȏn gignomenon), of which the style is far from being agreeable to the majority of his hearers (peri de tȇn lexin tois pollois tȏn akouontȏn ou meth’ hȇdonȇs akouomenon), may be fairly termed loquacity: such is my opinion (kaleisthai kata gnȏmȇn tȇn emȇn ouch heteron adoleschikou).’ (Soph. 225a12-d10, tr. B. Jowett)

That Plato points here his finger at the Phaedrus becomes even clearer in the sixth definition of the Sophist as ‘the purifier of the soul from conceits that stand in the way of knowledge’ (doxȏn empodiȏn mathȇmasin peri psuchȇn kathartȇn, 231e5-6, tr. Cornford), which Cornford comments with the words: ‘a description which (as Jackson and others have seen) applies to Socrates and to no one else’ (Cornford, p. 177) The Eleatic Stranger opens the divisions leading to the sixth definition with the art of Separating (diakritikȇ, 226c8), which he subdivides into that which separates things that are alike, which is set aside, and that which is concerned with separating the bad from the good,  the art of purification (katharmos, 226d10). The art of purification he divides into the arts that purify the body, such as medicine (iatrikȇ), gymnastic (gumnastikȇ), and the art of the bath-man (balaneutikȇ), and the purification which ‘removes evil from the soul’ (aphaeresis kakias psuchȇs, 227d9). It is in referring to the former that the Stranger takes on board and enlarges on a point that Socrates made in his definition of psychagȏgia in the Phaedrus:

‘The dialectical art (Tȇi tȏn logȏn methodȏi) never considers whether the benefit to be derived from the purge is greater or less than that to be derived from the sponge, and has no more interest in the one than in the other (spongistikȇs ȇ pharmakoposias ouden hȇtton oude ti mallon tunchanei melon ei to men smikra, to de megala hȇmas ȏphelei kathairon); her endeavour is to know what is and is not kindred in all arts, with a view to acquisition of intelligence (tou ktȇsasthai gar heneka noun pasȏn technȏn to sungenes kai to mȇ sungenes katanoein peirȏmenȇ); and having this in view, she honours them all alike (timai pros touto ex isou pasas), and when she makes comparisons, she counts one of them not a whit more ridiculous than another (kai thatera tȏn heterȏn kata tȇn homoiotȇta ouden hȇgeitai geloiotera); nor does she esteem him who adduces as his example of hunting, the general’s art, at all more decorous than another who cites that of the vermin-destroyer (semnoteron de ti ton dia stratȇgikȇs ȇ phtheiristikȇs dȇlounta thȇreutikȇn ouden nenomiken), but only as the greater pretender of the two (all’ hȏs to polu chaunoteron). And as to your question (kai dȇ kai nun, hoper ȇrou) concerning the name which was to comprehend all these arts of purification, whether of animate or inanimate bodies (ti proseroumen onoma sumpasas dunameis hosai sȏma eite empsuchon eite apsuchon eilȇchasi kathairein), the art of dialectic is in no wise particular about fine words (ouden autȇi dioisei poion ti lechthen euprepestaton einai doxei), if she may be only allowed to have a general name for all other purifications, binding them up together and separating them off from the purification of the soul or intellect (monon echetȏ chȏris tȏn tȇs psuchȇs katharseȏn panta sundȇsan hosa allo ti kathairei). For this is the purification at which she wants to arrive, and this we should understand to be her aim (ton gar peri tȇn dianoian katharmon apo tȏn allȏn epikecheirȇken aphorisasthai ta nun, ei ge hoper bouletai manthanomen).’ (227a7-c6, tr. B. Jowett)

Let me recall, for comparison, the relevant part of Socrates’ definition of rhetoric in the Phaedrus: ‘Will not the science of rhetoric as a whole be a kind of leading of the soul by means of things said (ou to men holon hȇ rȇtorikȇ an eiȇ technȇ psuchagȏgia tis dia logȏn) … whether it is concerned with small matters or large ones (smikrȏn te kai megalȏn peri), and something which possesses no more value (kai ouden entimoteron), if properly understood (to ge orthon), when it comes into play with things of importance than when it does with things of no importance (peri spoudaia ȇ peri phaula gignomenon)?’

In the Phaedrus Socrates gives no example of such small matters, but in the Sophist it plays an important role. The Eleatic stranger says: ‘And as I know that the tribe of Sophists is troublesome and hard to be caught, I should recommend that we practice beforehand the method which is to be applied to him on some simple and smaller thing (egȏge nȏin sumbouleuȏ, chalepon kai dusthȇreuton hȇgȇsamenos einai to tou sophistou genos proteron en allȏi raioni tȇn methodon autou promeletan) … Then suppose that we work out some lesser example which will be a pattern of the greater (Boulei dȇta peri tinos tȏn phaulȏn metiontes peirathȏmen paradeigma auto thesthai tou meizonos;)? … What is there which is well known and not great, and is yet as susceptible of definition as any larger thing (Ti dȇta protaxaimeth’ an eugnȏston men kai smikron, logon de mȇdenos elattona echon tȏn meizonȏn;)? Shall I say an angler (hoion aspalieutȇs)? He is familiar to all of us (ar’ ou pasi te gnȏrimon), and not a very interesting or important person (kai spoudȇs ou panu ti pollȇs tinos epaxion;) … Yet I suspect that he will furnish us with the sort of definition and line of enquiry which we want (Methodon mȇn auton elpizȏ kai logon ouk anepitȇdeion hȇmin echein pros ho boulometha).’ (Soph. 218d2-219a2, tr. B. Jowett).’

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Earlier on I wrote: ‘In using adoleschia contemptuously, the Sophist is in agreement with its use elsewhere in Plato. So why does it cause such a problem to distinguished interpreters of the Sophist?’ I illustrated their different interpretations with a quotation from Cornford, but I did not answer the question. The answer is, I believe, that the affinities between these two dialogues, combined with their divergence and discrepancy, cannot be explained on whatever late dating of the Phaedrus the interpreters may have adhered to. These difficulties disappear if we take into consideration the ancient dating of the Phaedrus as Plato’s first dialogue, written during Socrates’ lifetime: There were important points in the Phaedrus that Plato in the Sophist adhered to and enlarged upon, but there were as well important points that required correction.

Let me attempt to explain Plato’s adoleschia in the Phaedrus on the basis of my dating of the dialogue. I believe that Plato wrote it in response to Aristophanes’ Frogs, staged in 405. The comedy culminates in Aeschylus’ leaving the Underworld to save the Athenians. The chorus sings ‘in delight (charien oun), not sitting around Socrates in babbling (mȇ Sȏkratei parakathȇmenon lalein) having thrown away art (apobalonta mousikȇn, 1491-3)’. I believe that with the hint of ‘throwing away art and sitting around Socrates’ the chorus points the finger at Plato. Diogenes Laertius says that when Plato was twenty years old (gegonȏs eikosi etȇ) and was about ‘to compete for a prize with a tragedy (agȏnieisthai tragȏidiai)’, ‘having listened to Socrates in front of the theatre of Dionysus (pro tou Dionysiakou theatrou Sȏkratous akousas) he burnt his poems (katephlexe ta poiȇmata) and from then on adhered to Socrates (t’ounteuthen diȇkouse Sȏkratous)’. (III. 5-6) The Lenaean Dionysiac festival took place in the month Gamelion, which corresponds to our January-February, and so we may imagine that Socrates’ audience was assembled around a fire. Plato through his poems into the fire with the words: ‘Come hither, O fire god (Hȇphaiste, promol’ hȏde), Plato now has need of thee’ (Platȏn nu ti seio chatizei, Diog. Laert. III. 5)’. The spectacular manner in which he thus became a follower of Socrates must have been much talked about. How else could Aristophanes have alluded to it in the culminating moment in the Frogs?

Some eighteen years earlier Aristophanes made fun of Socrates in the Clouds. Strepsiades, a peasant, the comedy’s hero, burns Socrates’ Thinkery (phrontistȇrion, 94), ‘the home of the babblers’ (tȇn oikian tȏn adoleschȏn, 1484-5), in the end of the play. Depicting Socrates and those around him as ‘babbling’ (lalein) in the Frogs, Aristophanes reminded his audience of the Clouds. There was no point in Plato’s trying to persuade his readers that Socrates was no adoleschȇs, he could not succeed in doing so. He chose a different way of defending him; he presented adoleschia as the source of profound thinking. And there was a good ground for his doing so.

In the Parmenides, after refuting the young Socrates’ immature theory of forms, Parmenides says to him: ‘Your impulse toward argument is noble and indeed divine (kalȇ men oun kai theia, eu isthi, hȇ hormȇ hȇn hormais epi tous logous). But train yourself more thoroughly while you are still young; drag yourself through what is generally regarded as useless, and condemned by the multitude as idle talk (helkuson de sauton kai gumnasai mallon dia tȇs dokousȇs achrȇstou einai kai kaloumenȇs hupo tȏn pollȏn adoleschias, heȏs eti neos ei). Otherwise (ei de mȇ), the truth will escape you (se diapheuxetai hȇ alȇtheia).’ (135d2-6, tr. R.E. Allen) In the opening line of the dialog we learn that Kephalos and his friends, interested in philosophy, came to Athens from Clazomenae in Asia Minor to learn about the discussion that young Socrates had with Zeno and Parmenides; they heard that Plato’s half-brother Antiphon could relate from memory the arguments discussed, having often heard them from Pythodorus, Zeno’s friend. Plato’s elder brother Adeimantus confirms the story: ‘When Antiphon was young, he used to rehearse them diligently (meirakion gar ȏn autous eu mala diemeletȇsen, 126c6-7).’

Having thus every reason to suppose that those for whom he wrote the dialogue knew the story, Plato reinforced the laudatory meaning of adoleschia by presenting it as the source from which Pericles drew the mental elevation and thoroughly finished execution of his speeches. We can learn from Aristophanes’ Frogs how strongly Pericles figured in the thoughts of the Athenians in that final year of the Peloponnesian War, when the democracy was still strong. Aeschylus won his contest with Euripides, and returned to Athens from the Underworld, for his advice – ‘When they shall count the enemy’s soil their own (tȇn gȇn hotan nomisȏsi tȇn tȏn polemiȏn einai spheteran), and theirs the enemy’s (tȇn de spheteran tȏn polemiȏn), when they know that ships are their true wealth (poron de tas naus), their so-called wealth delusion (aporian de ton poron, 1463-5)’ was the one that could save Athens, as the Athenians fervently believed. ‘It was the counsel which was given by Pericles at the commencement of the war’, as Rogers notes, summarizing Pericles’ speech, given in Thucydides i. 140-144, as follows: “What if the enemy ravages Attica? So long as Athens is the mistress of the sea, the whole world will be open to her fleets.” (BB. Rogers, The Frogs of Aristophanes, note on 1463).