Propriety and impropriety in writing, the myth of Theuth and Thamous

Socrates: So let that be enough on the subject of the scientific and unscientific aspects of speaking (Ou0kou=n to\ me\n te/xnhj te kai\ a1texni/aj lo/gwn pe/ri i9kanw~j e0xe/tw).

Phaedrus: By all means (Ti/ mh/n;)

Socrates: What we have left is the subject of propriety and impropriety in writing: in what way, when it is done, it will be done acceptably, and in what way improperly (To\ d’ eu0prepei/aj dh\ grafh=j pe/ri kai\ a0prepei/aj, ph=| gigno/menon kalw~j a2n e1xoi kai\ o3ph| a0prepw~j, loipo/n). True (h] ga/r;)?

Phaedrus: Yes (Nai/).

Socrates: So do you know (Oi]sq’ ou]n) how you will most gratify god (o3ph| ma/lista qew~| xarih|=) in relation to speaking, whether actually speaking, or talking about it (lo/gwn pe/ri pra/ttwn h2 le/gwn;)?

Phaedrus: Not at all (Ou0damw~j); do you (su\ de/;)?

Socrates: I can tell you, at least (A0koh/n g’ e1xw le/gein), something I have heard from those who came before us (tw~n prote/rwn); they alone know the truth of it (to\ d’ a0lhqe\j au0toi\ i1sasin). But if we were to find it out for ourselves (ei0 de\ tou=to eu3roimen au0toi/), would we care any longer at all (a]ra/ g’ a2n e1q’ h9mi=n me/loi ti) about what mere men happen to think (tw~n a0nqrwpi/nwn docasma/twn;)?

Phaedrus: An absurd question (Geloi=on h1rou); tell me what you said you have heard (a0ll’ a4 fh\|j a0khkoe/nai le/ge).

Socrates: Well then, what I heard was that there was at Naukratis in Egypt one of the ancient gods of that country (H!kousa toi/nun peri\ Nau/kratin th=j Ai0gu/ptou gene/sqai tw~n e0kei= palaiw~n tina qew~n), the one to whom the sacred bird they call the ibis belongs (ou[ kai to\ o1rneon i9ero\n o4 dh\ kalou=sin I}bin); the divinity’s own name was Theuth (au0tw~| de\ o1noma tw~| dai/moni ei]nai Qeu/q). The story was that he was the first to discover number and calculation (tou=ton dh\ prw~ton a0riqmo/n te kai\ logismo\n eu9rei=n), and geometry (kai\ gewmetri/an) and astronomy (kai\ a0stronomi/an), and also games of draughts (e1ti de\ pettei/aj te) and dice (kai\ kubei/aj); and, to cap it all, letters (kai\ dh\ kai\ gra/mmata). King of all Egypt at that time was Thamus (basile/wj d’ au] to/te o1ntoj Ai0gu/ptou o3lhj Qamou=) – all of it, that is, that surrounds the great city of the upper region which the Greeks call Egyptian Thebes; Thamus they call Ammon (peri\ th\n mega/lhn po/lin tou= a1nw to/pou h4n oi9 E3llhnej A0gupti/aj Qh/baj kalou=si, kai\ to\n qeo\n A1mmwna). Theuth came to him (para\ tou=ton e0lqw_n o9 Qeu\q) and displayed his technical inventions (ta\j te/xnaj e0pe/deicen), saying that they should be passed on to the rest of the Egyptians (kai\ e1fh dei=n diadoqh/nai toi=j a1lloij Ai0gupti/oij); and Thamus asked what benefit each brought (o9 de\ h1reto h3ntina e9ka/sth e1xoi w)feli/an). As Theuth went through them (die/cio/ntoj de/), Thamus criticised or praised whatever he seemed to be getting right or wrong (o3ti kalw~j h2 mh\ kalw~j dokoi= le/gein, to\ me\n e1yegen, to\ d’ e0ph/|nei). The story goes that Thamus expressed many views to Theuth about each science, both for and against (polla\ me\n dh\ peri\ e9ka/sthj th=j te/xnhj e0p’ a0mfo/tera Qamou=n tw~| Qeu\q le/getai a0pofh/nasqai); it would take a long time to go through them in detail (a4 lo/goj polu\j a2n ei1h dielqei=n), but when it came to the subject of letters (e0peidh\ de\ e0pi\ toi=j gra/mmasi h]n), Theuth said ‘But this study, King Thamus, will make the Egyptians wiser and improve their memory (Tou=to de/, w} basileu=, to\ ma/qhma,” e1fh Qeu/q, “sofwte/rouj Ai0gupti/ouj kai\ mnhmonikwte/rouj pare/cei); what I have discovered is an elixir of memory and wisdom (mnh/mhj te ga\r kai\ sofi/aj fa/rmakon hu9re/qh).’ Thamus replied (o9 d’ ei]pen) ‘Most scientific Theuth (W} texnikw&tate Qeu/q), one man has the ability to beget the elements of a science (a1lloj me\n tekei=n dunato\j ta\ te/xnhj), but it belongs to a different person to be able to judge what measure of harm and benefit it contains for those who are going to make use of it (a1lloj de\ kri=nai ti/n’ e1xei moi=ran bla/bhj te kai\ w)feli/aj toi=j me/llousi xrh=sqai); so now you (kai\ nu=n su/), as the father of letters (path\r w@n gramma/twn), have been led by your affection for them to describe them as having the opposite of their real effect (di’ eu1noian tou0nanti/on ei]pej h2 du/natai). For your invention will produce forgetfulness in the souls of those who have learned it (Tou=to ga\r tw~n maqo/ntwn lh/qhn me\n e0n yuxai=j pare/cei), through lack of practice at using their memory (mnh/mhj a0melethsi/a|), as through reliance on writing (a3te dia\ pi/stin grafh=j) they are reminded from outside by alien marks, not from inside, themselves by themselves (e1cwqen u9p’ a0llotri/wn tu/pwn, ou0k e1ndoqen au0tou\j u9f’ au9tw~n a0namimnh|skome/nouj): you have discovered an elixir not of memory but of reminding (ou1koun mnh/mhj a0lla\ u9pomnh/sewj fa/rmakon hu[rej). To your students you give an appearance of wisdom, not the reality of it (sofi/aj de\ toi=j maqhtai=j do/can, ou0k a0lh/qeian pori/zeij); having heard much (poluh/kooi ga/r soi geno/menoi), in the absence of teaching (a1neu didaxh=j) they will appear to know much (polugnw&monej ei]nai do/cousin) when for the most part they know nothing (a0gnw&monej w(j e0pi\ to\ plh=qoj o1ntej), and they will be difficult to get along with (kai\ xalepoi\ sunei=nai), because they have acquired the appearance of wisdom (doco/sofoi gegono/tej) instead of wisdom itself (a0nti\ sofw~n).