Meno 13

Meno 12 ended with Anytus’ advice to Socrates: Socrates, I consider you are too apt to speak ill of people. I, for one, if you will take my advice, would warn you to be careful: in most cities it is probably easier to do people harm than good, and particularly in this one; I think you know that yourself.

I shall devote Meno 13 to Socrates’ response to Anytus’ advice, and to Lamb’s note on it, which represents what those Platonic scholars would have thought about it, who gave it a thought.

Socrates: Meno, (W} Me/nwn) I think Anytus is angry (A1nutoj me/n moi dokei= xalepai/nein), and I am not at all surprised (kai\ ou0de\n qauma/zw): for he conceives, in the first place, that I am speaking ill of these gentlemen (oi1etai ga/r me prw~ton me\n kakhgorei=n tou/touj tou\j a1ndraj): and in the second place (e1peita), he considers he is one of them himself (h9gei=tai kai\ au0to\j ei]nai ei[j tou/twn). Yet, should the day come when he knows what “speaking ill” means (a0ll’ ou[toj me\n e0a/n pote gnw~|, oi[o/n e0sti to\ kakw~j le/gein), his anger will cease (pau/setai xalepai/nwn); at present he does not know (nu=n de\ a0gnoei=). (95a2-6)

W.R.M. Lamb, the translator, notes: ‘This is probably not a reference to a prosecution of Anytus himself, but a suggestion that what he needs is a Socratic discussion on “speaking ill,” for “ill” may mean “maliciously,” “untruthfully,” “ignorantly,” etc.’

Dating the Meno after Socrates’ death, the Platonic scholars could not but misrepresent the dialogue. For the whole of Plato’s Apology (APOLOGIA SWKRATOUS: Socrates’ defence) can be seen as Socrates’ discussion of “speaking ill”, with a focus on Anytus and those around him (oi9 a0mfi\ A1nuton, 18b3). But there was no point in trying to explain to Anytus and those around him what “speaking ill” meant. They did speak ill of Socrates, and they did it “maliciously” and “untruthfully.” But since “speaking ill” was a big problem, generally, and in the accusation of Socrates in particular, Socrates devoted to the problem a lot of time in his Defence, beginning with his opening sentence:

“How you, men of Athens, have been affected by my accusers (O! ti me\n u9mei=j, w} a1ndrej A0qhnai/oi, pepo/nqate u9po\ tw~n e0mw~n kathgo/rwn), I do not know (ou0k oi]da): but I, for my part, almost forgot my own identity (e0gw_ d’ ou]n kai\ au0to\j u9p’ au0tw~n o0li/gou e0mautou= e0pelaqo/mhn), so persuasively did they talk (ou3tw piqanw~j e1legon); and yet there is hardly a word of truth in what they have said (kai/toi a0lhqe/j ge, w(j e1poj ei0pei=n, ou0de\n ei0rh/kasin).

***

Lamb’s “ignorantly” deserves special attention. One might, of course, maintain that they misunderstood Socrates; but who didn’t. When I say “ignorantly”, I mean that they had a completely false idea of how it will all end. And for that they can be hardly blamed, for there are reasons to believe that at that time Socrates himself did not know. Or to be more precise, at the time Socrates made his Defence speech, he was ready to die for what he was saying to the Athenian people. It was the month that followed his death sentence that Socrates ceased to be sure, the month his friends did their best to get Socrates out of prison, out of Athens, to save him, as we know from the Crito: Socrates did not stop his friends from making all those preparations for his escape, which were fraught with danger.

But let me quote Crito: ‘But, my dear Socrates, even now listen to me and save yourself (a1ll’, w} daimo/nie Sw&kratej, e1ti kai\ nu=n e0moi\ piqou= kai\ sw&qhti, 44b5-6) … But, Socrates, tell me this (ta/de de/, w} Sw&kratej, ei0pe/ moi): you are not considering me and your other friends, are you (a]ra/ ge mh\ e0mou= promhqh=| kai\ tw~n a1llwn e0pithdei/wn), fearing that, if you escape, the informers will make trouble for us (mh/, e0a\n su\ e0nqe/nde e0ce/lqh|j, oi9 sukofa/ntai h9mi=n pra/gmata pare/xousin) by saying that we stole you away (w(j se\ e0nqe/nde e0kkle/yasin), and we shall be forced to lose all our property and a good deal of money (kai\ a0nagkasqw~men h2 kai\ pa=san th\n ou0si/an a0pobalei=n h2 suxna\ xrh/mata), or be punished in some other way besides (h2 kai\ a1llo ti pro\j tou/toij paqei=n;)? For if you are afraid of anything of that kind (ei0 ga/r ti toiou/ton fobh=|), let it go (e1ason tou=to xairei=n); since it is right for us to run this risk, and even greater risk than this, if necessary, provided we save you (h9mei=j ga\r pou di/kaioi/ e0smen sw&sante/j se kinduneu/ein tou/ton to\n ki/ndunon kai\ e0a\n de/h| e1ti tou/tou mei/zw). Now please do as I ask (a1ll’ e0moi\ pei/qou kai\ mh\ a1llwj poi/ei).’ (44e1-45a3)

But I was to say whether Anytus and those around him did what they did – assured a death sentence for Socrates – being “ignorant” of Socrates. We may presume that they were well informed of all the preparations Socrates’ friends were making for his escape from prison, and from Athens. I even believe, that it was not by accident (tou=to d’ e1tuxen, ‘this happened’, Phaedo 68c3) that the priest of Apollo has wreathed the stern of the ship the day before the trial – see Phaedo 59a-c. Had Socrates escaped from prison, and with him his friends went into exile, Anytus’ hopes would have been fulfilled.

For Anytus’ hopes, see Meno 11. Let me point to the relevant passages.

Socrates: And now there is an opportunity of your joining me in a consultation on my friend Meno here. He has been declaring to me ever so long, Anytus, that he desires to have that wisdom and virtue whereby men keep their house or their city in good order, and honour their parents, and know when to welcome and when to speed citizens and strangers as befits a good man. Now tell me, to whom ought we properly to send him for lessons in this virtue? Or is it clear enough, from our argument just now, that he should go to these men who profess to be teachers of virtue and advertise themselves as the common teachers of the Greeks, and are ready to instruct anyone who chooses in return for fees charged on a fixed scale?

Anytus: To whom are you referring, Socrates?

Socrates: Surely you know as well as anyone; they are the men whom people call sophists.

Anytus: For heaven’s sake hold your tongue, Socrates. May no kinsman or friend of mine, whether of this city or another, be seized with such madness as to let himself infected with the company of those men; for they are a manifest plague and corruption to those who frequent them.

Socrates: What is this, Anytus? Of all the people who set up to understand how to do us good, do you mean to single out these as conveying not merely no benefit, such as the rest can give, but actually corruption to anyone placed in their hands? And is it for doing this that they openly claim the payment of fees? … Now are we to take it, according to you, that they wittingly deceive and corrupt the youth, or that they are themselves unconscious of it? Are we to conclude that those who are frequently termed the wisest of mankind to have been so demented as that?

Anytus: Demented! Not they, Socrates: far rather the young men who pay them money, and still more the relations who let the young men have their way; and most of all the cities that allow them to enter, and do not expel them, whether such attempt be made by stranger or citizen.

These words of Anytus entitle us to presume that he hoped to clean the city of such men, and that his ‘or citizen’ points to Socrates.  

Socrates asked Anytus to point to any Athenian who would teach virtue to Meno. When Anytus was at a loss, to keep him in discussion, Socrates suggested the names of several distinguished leaders of Athens, and their children: Themistocles and his son Cleophantes, Aristeides and his son Lysimachus, Pericles and his two sons, Paralus and Xanthippus, Thucydides [not the historian] and his two sons, Melesias and Stefanus.

Note Socrates’ words, with which he introduced this discussion: ‘Just consider it in your own way of speaking (w{de ou]n sko/pei e0k tou= sautou= lo/gou): would you not say that Themistocles was a good man?’ Introduced to philosophic mysteries, 76 e, Meno would cease to consider Themistocles – Aristeides, Pericles, and Thucydides – a great man.

Each of these great men let their sons to be well educated, but none was able to pass to them their own virtue. Socrates concluded: ‘Ah no, my dear Anytus, it looks as though virtue were not a teachable thing (a0lla\ ga\r, w} e9tai=re A1nute, mh\ ou0k h=| didakto\n a0reth/, 94e2)’

Anytus extricated himself from any further participation in discussion with an advice: ‘Socrates, I consider you are too apt to speak ill of people. I, for one, if you will take my advice, would warn you to be careful: in most cities it is probably easier to do people harm than good, and particularly in this one; I think you know that yourself.’

What Anytus did next, we may learn from Diogenes Laertius: ‘Socrates would take to task those who thought highly of themselves, proving them to be fools, as to be sure he treated Anytus, according to Plato’s Meno (w(j kai\ e0n tw~| Pla/twno/j e0sti Me/nwni). For Anytus could not endure to be thus ridiculed by Socrates (ou[toj ga\r ou0 fe/rwn to\n u9po\ Swkra/touj xleuasmo/n), and so in the first place stirred up against him Aristophanes [the writer of comedies] and those around him (prw~ton me\n e0ph/leiyen au0tw~| tou\j peri\ A0ristofa/nhn); then afterwards he helped to persuade Meletus to indict him on a charge of impiety and corrupting the youth (e1peita kai\ Me/lhton sune/peisen a0pene/gkasqai kat’ au0tou= grafh\n a0sebei/aj kai\ tw~n ne/wn diafqora=j)’. (Diog. Laert. II. 38)

Since, as we know from Plato’s Crito, Socrates refused to allow his friends to liberate him from prison, and decided to abide by the court’s decision, thus proving to be a model citizen, the Athenians soon repented, ‘banished the other accusers but put Meletus to death (tou\j me\n a1llouj e0fuga/deusan, Me/lhton de\ qa/naton kate/gnwsan) (Diog. Laert. II. 43).’