Socrates, Parmenides, and the Pythagoreans

Aristotle’s testimony concerning the Pythagoreans in Metaphysics A should be viewed against the background of Plato’s Parmenides.  A theory of Forms which young Socrates presents in the dialogue appears to be nothing new to Parmenides and Zeno; if they knew it, they must have known it as a Pythagorean theory.

Aristotle says in the 1^st book of Metaphysics that the Pythagoreans ‘extend their vision to all things that exist, and of the existing things suppose some to be perceptible and others not perceptible’ (989b24-26); ‘they got their principles from non-sensible things’ (989b31, tr. Ross). In the Parmenides Socrates asks Zeno whether he agrees that there are two sorts of things, those we can see with our eyes and those we can’t, which he called Forms (eidê, 128e6-130a2). Although Socrates presented his question concerning the Forms as a challenge to both Zeno and Parmenides, the two listened to him in admiration (agamenous ton Sȏkratê, 130b7). After exposing the notion of Forms to criticism that Socrates could not answer, Parmenides told him: ‘I admired you for saying to Zeno that you would not allow inquiry to wander among the visible things and consider them, but rather concern those things which one would most especially grasp by rational account and consider to be Forms.’ (135d8-e4) As I have mentioned in an earlier entry (‘Plato’s Parmenides and Parmenides’ poem On nature’), the ancients viewed Parmenides as an associate of the Pythagoreans (DK I. Fr. A 4, pp. 218-9; A 12, p. 220; A 40a p. 225; A44 p. 225). Although Parmenides had to overcome the Pythagorean plurality, he appears to have appreciated Pythagoreans for getting ‘their principles from non-sensible things’.

According to Aristotle the Pythagoreans viewed numbers as ‘principles of all things’ (tȏn ontȏn archas ȏiêthêsan einai pantȏn, 985b25-6) – ‘such and such a modification of numbers being justice (to men toiondi tȏn arithmȏn pathos dikaiosunê), another being soul and reason (to de toiondi psuchê kai nous), another being an opportunity (heteron de kairos) and similarly all the other things, so to speak’ (kai tȏn allȏn hȏs eipein hekaston homiȏs, 985b29-31) – ‘for all other things seemed in their whole nature to be modelled on numbers’ (ta men alla tois arithmois ephaineto tên phusin aphomoiousthai pasan, 985b32-3) In the Parmenides Socrates suggested that the Forms are paradigms (paradeigmata) in relation to which all other things are modelled (ta de alla toutois eoikenai kai einai homoiȏmata, 132d2-3).

Aristotle says that Plato’s philosophy in most respects followed the Pythagoreans (ta men polla toutois akolouthousa, 987a30); ‘the Pythagoreans say that things exist by imitation of numbers (mimêsei ta onta phasi einai tȏn arithmȏn), and Plato says they exist by participation (Platȏn de methexei), changing the name (t’ounoma metabalȏn). But what the participation or the imitation of the Forms could be (tên mentoi ge methexin ê tên mimêsin hêtis an eiê tȏn eidȏn) they left an open question’ (apheisan en koinȏi zêtein, 987b11-14, tr. Ross). In Plato’s dialogue Parmenides dismissed the theory of ‘imitation’ with the words: ‘So the other things do not get a share of the Forms by likeness (ouk ara homoiotêti t’alla tȏn eidȏn metalambanei), but one must look for something else by which they get a share’ (alla ti allo dei zêtein hȏi metalambanei, 133a5-6); what that ‘something else’ might be, he does not say.

Aristotle says that Pythagoreans arranged their principles into two columns of opposites, among which we can find ‘one and plurality’, ‘resting and moving’, ‘good and bad’. Socrates in the Parmenides contemplates Forms as opposite to each other, ‘such as likeness and unlikeness, multitude and the one, rest and motion’ (128e5-129e1).

Aristotle says that the Pythagoreans viewed ‘the infinity itself (auto to apeiron) and the one itself (kai auto to hen) as the substance of things of which they are predicated (ousian einai toutȏn hȏn katêgorountai) … they began to discuss essence and define it (peri tou ti estin êrxanto legein kai horizesthai), but they did so too superficially (lian d’ haplȏs epragmateuthêsan); the first subject of which a given definition was predicable was the subject of the thing defined … thus the one will be many (polla to hen estai), which in fact happened to them (ho k’akeinois sunebainen, Met. A  987a18-27). The one that Parmenides discusses in Plato’s dialogue, the one that becomes ‘many’, is not the one of his poem, but the Pythagorean one.

Aristotle’s response to Plato’s Parmenides in Metaphysics A

Plato dramatically staged the Parmenides so as to direct the minds of his disciples to the Republic and thus arm them against any criticism of the Forms (see the entry of January 10 2015 ‘Plato’s defence of the Forms in the Parmenides’). Aristotle’s passionate plea against the theory of Forms in the 9^th chapter of the 1^st book of Metaphysics indicates that Plato’s defence of the Forms in the Parmenides had a profound effect on his disciples: ‘Although philosophy on the whole seeks the cause of perceptible things (holȏs de zêtousês tês sophias peri tȏn phanerȏn to aition), we have given this up (for we say nothing about the cause from which change takes its start); we think that we are stating the substance of perceptible things when in fact we state the existence of other substances, while our account of the way in which they are the substances of perceptible things (hopȏs d’ ekeinai toutȏn ousiai) is empty talk (dia kenês legomen); for ‘sharing’ means nothing (to gar metechein outhen estin), as we said before’ (992a24-29).

In his response to the Parmenides, Aristotle too refers to the Republic: ‘Nor have the Forms any connection with what we claim to be the cause in the case of the sciences (hoper tais epistêmais horȏmen on aition), that for whose sake both all mind and the whole of nature are operative, with this cause which we assert to be one of the first principles; but mathematics has come to be identical with philosophy for the thinkers of today, though they say that it should be studied for the sake of other things (992a29-b1).’ Ross in his commentary rightly notes that Aristotle here refers to the Republic, where Plato views mathematics as a propaedeutic to philosophy (cf. Rep 533B-E; see Ross’ note ad Met. 992a33).

Concerning the words ‘what we claim to be the cause in the case of the sciences’ (hoper tais epistêmais horȏmen on aition) Ross says that ‘Difficulty has been felt about this, since science is concerned even more essentially with the formal than the final cause (note on 992a29)’. This difficulty disappears if we realize that in support of his own position Aristotle refers to Plato’s Republic. In the 6^th book of the Republic Plato wrote that ‘the good is the cause of knowledge to all things known’ (tois gignȏskomenois to gignȏskesthai hupo tou agathou pareinai, 509b6-8).’

Aristotle’s criticism of the theory of Forms in the 1^st book of Metaphysics is uncompromising: ‘Those who posit the Ideas (hoi de tas ideas tithemenoi) as causes, firstly, in seeking to grasp the causes of things around us, they introduced others equal in number to these, as if a man who wanted to count things thought he would not be able to do it while they were few, but tried to count them when he had added to their number (990a34-b4) … Further, of the ways in which we prove that the Forms exist, none is convincing; for from some no inference necessarily follows, and from some arise Forms even of things of which we think there are no Forms (990b9-11) … Above all one might discuss the question what on earth the Forms contribute to sensible things, either to those that are eternal [i. e. the heavenly bodies – W. D. Ross’ note ad 991a9] or to those that come into being and cease to be. For they cause neither movement nor any change in them. But again they help in no wise either towards the knowledge of the other things (for they are not even the substance of these, else they would have been in them), or towards their being, if they are not in the particulars which share in them’ (991a8-14, tr. Ross).

But Plato in the Parmenides gave voice to, dramatically displayed and enhanced the difficulties in which the theory of Forms is entangled, in particularly the difficulties involved in the theory of participation of perceptible things in the Forms and difficulties concerning the contribution the Forms can possibly make to our knowledge of things around us (133b-134e). Plato not only conceived the Forms face to face with all this criticism of the theory, criticism of which he was well aware from the time he became interested in philosophy, but steadfastly adhered to them – this is what the Parmenides is all about. How was this possible? The answer lies in the way in which Plato conceived the Forms, as Aristotle explains it in Metaphysics A.

Aristotle says that Plato in his youth embraced the Heraclitean doctrines ‘that all things are in constant flux (hȏs hapantȏn aei reontȏn) and there is no knowledge about them’ (kai epistêmês peri autȏn ouk ousês, 987a33-34). To understand the significance of this statement, we must pay due attention to the Greek concept of knowledge. Epistêmê signifies ‘standing on’; it is derived from ephistêmi, ‘stop, cause to halt’. Aristotle says in the Physics: ‘for it is when the mind has reached a state of rest and come to a standstill (tȏi gar êremêsai kai stênai tên dianoian) that we say we know and understand (epistasthai kai phronein legometha, 247b11-12)’. Engrossed in the Heraclitean view of reality, Plato encountered Socrates ‘who was the first to have stopped and fixed his mind on definitions of ethical concepts’ (peri horismȏn epistêsantos prȏtou tên dianoian, Met A, 987b3-4); Plato realized ‘that the entities on which mind could be thus fixed and brought to a standstill were different from perceptible things (hȏs peri heterȏn touto gignomenon kai ou tȏn aisthêtȏn). He called the entities of this kind Forms’ (houtos men oun ta men toiauta tȏn ontȏn ideas prosêgoreuse, 987b5-8).

Plato did not conceive the Forms on the basis of observations concerning things around him as young Socrates did in the Parmenides and as did Plato’s disciples at whom Aristotle directed his criticism. On his encounter with Socrates, Plato saw the Forms with his soul’s eye (cf. to tês psuchês omma, Rep. 533d2). After Plato had conceived the Forms, his Heraclitean view of the perceptible world remained unchanged: ‘this view he held even later’ (tauta men kai husteron houtȏs hupelaben, Met. A 987a34-b1), that is after he had conceived the Forms. In the Republic Plato insists that there can be no knowledge concerning things perceived by the senses (508d-511e); this is why his view of the Forms was immune to Aristotelian arguments against the Forms.

Face to face with the Parmenides Aristotle was well aware that his arguments against the Forms were powerless against Plato’s view of the Forms; he directed his arguments against the Forms at those, who like himself believed that ‘philosophy on the whole seeks the cause of perceptible things’ (holȏs de zêtousês tês sophias peri tȏn phanerȏn to aition, Met. A 992a24-25). 

Plato’s defence of the Forms in the Parmenides

In the entry of October 16 (‘A note on the 3^rd book of Aristotle’s Metaphysics’) I expressed the view that Plato wrote the Parmenides in defence of the Forms, and that he did so before his third journey to Sicily. Objections against the theory of Forms were ripe among Plato’s disciples in the Academy. Plato appears to have had no telling arguments for protecting the Forms – as a Platonist Aristotle raised arguments against the Forms in the first book of Metaphysics, using the first person plural in the sense ‘we Platonists’ and he repeated the same arguments in the 13^th book after distancing himself from Platonists – yet before leaving Athens he had to protect his disciples from objections against the Forms. How could he do so if he had no telling arguments with which he could prove their existence? By pointing out that those, who could see the Forms, were immune against any arguments raised against them; for this he vouched with his whole life in philosophy, ever since he conceived the Forms on his encounter with Socrates (for this see The Lost Plato on my website, especially the first four chapters).

In the Parmenides Plato endows some of the most telling arguments against the Forms with the authority of Parmenides, declaring the Forms immune not only against them, but against any arguments. This strategy could be adopted by him only if the discussion between Socrates, Zeno and Parmenides staged in the dialogue did take place in reality, if Socrates in his youth contemplated the Forms and on that basis challenged Parmenides’ thesis that ‘all is one’, and if Parmenides in turn subjected Socrates’ Forms to criticism. For in that case he must have been acquainted with arguments against the Forms long before he began to teach philosophy in the Academy.

Cepahlus and his friends, all much interested in philosophy (panu philosophoi, 126a8), came to Athens from Clazomenae in Asia Minor to ask Adeimantus and Glaucon to introduce them to Antiphon: ‘They have heard that Antiphon used to associate with a certain Pythodorus, a companion of Zeno’s, and that he can relate from memory the arguments that once were discussed by Socrates, Zeno, and Parmenides, having often heard them from Pythodorus.’ ‘True,’ Adeimantus replied (Alêthê, ephê, legeis, 126c4), ‘for when Antiphon was young (meirakios gar ȏn), he used to rehearse the arguments diligently (autous eu mala diemeletêsen), though now, like his grandfather of the same name, he spends most of his time on horses (126c6-8).’

Adeimantus was Plato’s older and Glaucon his younger brother; Antiphon, their half-brother, was several years younger than Glaucon. Socrates refers to Adeimantus in his defence speech in the Apology. Accused of corrupting the youth of Athens, Socrates appeals to all those with whom he ever discussed philosophy to come forward and testify against him, if he ever had given them a bad advice in their youth, ‘or if they do not like to come themselves, some of their relatives, fathers, brothers, or other kinsmen, should think of the evil their families have suffered at my hands. Now is their time. Many of them I see in the court … and there are the brothers of several who have associated with me … Adeimantus the son of Ariston, whose brother Plato is present.’ (33d4-34a1, tr. B. Jowett)

Adeimantus’ testimony in the Parmenides is brief, but it is essential for our understanding of the dialogue. Firstly, he testifies to it that what Cephalus and his friends heard in Clazomenae, a town in Asia Minor, was true: Socrates, Zeno and Parmenides met in Athens and discussed philosophy; Antiphon did learn their arguments from Pythodorus. Secondly, and for our understanding of the dialogue most importantly, he testifies to it that in his youth Antiphon diligently rehearsed the arguments.

Plato’s younger brother, Glaucon, has no voice in the Parmenides, yet his presence in the dialogue side by side with Adeimantus is significant. For it was Glaucon who in the Republic prompted Socrates to give a proper account of justice: ‘Socrates, do you wish really to persuade us, or only to seem to have persuaded us, that to be just is always better than to be unjust?’ (357a4-7) In course of the discussion between Socrates, Adeimantus and Glaucon, which Glaucon thus initiated, Plato erected his ideal state, which only those are fit to govern who can see the Forms.

To induce Socrates to undertake a proper defence of justice, Glaucon argued that people practice justice unwillingly, as a necessity, not as good in itself; people do so with good reason, for a man practicing injustice is better off and leads a better life than a man devoted to justice. Adeimantus joined his voice to that of Glaucon, arguing that the appearance of justice is what matters, not justice as such, for the reputation of being just brings about social and political advantages. He ended his appeal to Socrates with the words: ‘In your exposition (tȏi logȏi) show (endeixêi) to us not only that justice is better than injustice, but show what either of them on its own (autê di’ hautên) does to its possessor, and that in doing so to men the one is a good and the other an evil, whether seen or unseen by gods and men.’ (367e1-5)

On hearing the arguments of the two brothers Socrates addressed them with the words: ‘There is something truly divine in you if you have not been convinced that injustice is better than justice, being able to argue as you have done for the superiority of injustice. And I do believe that you truly are not convinced – this I infer from your general character, for had I judged only from your speeches I should have mistrusted you.’ (368a5-b3)

Readers of the Parmenides must have been reminded of these passages in the Republic when Parmenides introduced the most powerful argument against the Forms with the words ‘If someone argued that the Forms (ta eidê), being such as we say they ought to be, must remain unknown, no one could show him that he is wrong, unless he who denied their existence be a man of great ability and knowledge’ (133b4-8), and when he then closed all arguments against the Forms with the words ‘Only a man of considerable natural gifts will be able to learn that there is a kind of each thing, a substance alone by itself, and even more remarkable will discover this and will be able to teach it to someone who has examined all these difficulties with sufficient care.’ (135a7-b2)

Parmenides in the dialogue introduces his most powerful argument against the Forms – in Jowett’s translation – as follows: ‘If an opponent argues that these ideas (ta eidê), being such as we say they ought to be, must remain unknown, no one can prove to him (ouk an echoi tis endeixasthai, 133b7) that he is wrong, unless he who denies their existence be a man of great ability and knowledge, and is willing to follow a long and laborious demonstration (etheloi de panu polla kai porrȏthen pragmateuomenou tou endeiknumenou hepesthai, 133b9).’ (133b4-c1) Reading Jowett’s translation, one must wonder what kind of proof or proofs had Plato in mind. Allen translates: ‘If someone should say that it doesn’t even pertain to the characters (ta eidê) to be known if they are such as we say they must be, one could not show him (ouk an echoi tis endeixasthai) he was wrong unless the disputant happened to be a man of wide experience and natural ability, willing to follow many a remote and laborious demonstration (etheloi de panu polla kai porrȏthen pragmateuomenou tou endeiknumenou hepesthai).’

On the face of it Allen confuses the matter, for Jowett’s ‘no one can prove to him’ better preserves the correspondence between ‘prove’ for endeixasthai in b7 and ‘demonstration’ for endeiknumenou in b9, than Allen’s ‘show’ in b7. And yet, Allen’s ‘one could not show him’ renders more sensitively Plato’s ouk an echoi tis endeixasthai; the task is to render endeiknumenou in harmony with endeixasthai. In b9 Plato does not speak of a man willing to follow a demonstration that the Forms exist, he speaks of ‘following a man who is showing (endeiknumenou)’ the Forms.

Both Jowett and Allen render as ‘laborious’ Plato’s pragmateuomenou, which is a participle corresponding to the participle endeiknumenou and elucidating it. Among the many meanings of pragmateuomai registered by Liddell & Scott in their Greek-English Lexicon, such as ‘busy oneself’, ‘take trouble’, ‘work at a thing’, we do find under II. 1. ‘treat laboriously’ as an elucidation of pragmateuomai in Plato’s Protagoras 361d and Hippias Major 304c. But it is questionable whether Socrates wants to speak of his philosophical activities as ‘laborious’ when he says in the Protagoras ‘concerned about my whole life (promêtheuomenos huper tou biou tou emautou pantos) I am engaged in all these matters (panta tauta pragmateuomai)’; by panta tauta pragmateuomai he refers to his life-long preoccupation with the question ‘what virtue is’ (Prt. 361d3-5). In the Hippias Major too he refers to his life-long engagement in philosophy; Hippias and other sophists of his ilk say ‘how foolish and petty and worthless are the matters with which I occupy myself’ (pragmateuomai, Hip.Ma. 304c5-6, tr. B. Jowett). Translating pragmateuomenou by ‘laborious’ in the Parmenides is unfortunate, for pragmateuomenou denotes there activity of a philosopher leading ‘a man of wide experience and natural ability’ towards the Forms, which is a matter of profound joy, leading to true happiness.

Perhaps the best elucidation of the given passage in the Parmenides can be found in the Seventh Letter, where Plato speaks about that which is knowable and truly is (ho dê gnȏston te kai alêthȏs estin on, 342b1): ‘It does not admit of exposition like other branches of knowledge; but after much converse about the matter itself (peri to pragma) and a life lived together, suddenly a light, as it were, is kindled in one soul by a flame that leaps to it from another, and thereafter sustains itself (341c5-d2) … the man who has heard of this, if he has the true philosophic spirit and that godlike temperament which makes him akin to philosophy and worthy of it, thinks that he has been told of a marvellous road lying before him, that he must forthwith press on with all his strength, and that life is not worth living if he does anything else. After this he uses to the full his own powers and those of his guide in the path, and relaxes not his efforts, till he has either reached the end of the whole course of study or gained such power that he is not incapable of directing his steps without the aid of a guide (chȏris tou deixontos’ (340c1-d1, tr. J. Harward). Tou deixontos is the future participle of the verb deiknumi, which refers to the guide as the man who is to show his follower that which is knowable and truly is, that is the Forms; it directly corresponds to the participle endeiknumenou in Parmenides 133b9.

There is no other dialogue in which Plato describes the road to the Forms in such detail, so comprehensively and so powerfully, as he does in the Republic. It is to the Republic that he in the Parmenides directs his followers when he is about to leave Athens for Sicily, where he intends to devote the rest of his life to bringing the ideal state of the Republic to life. Discussing justice with Adeimantus and Glaucon in the Republic, Socrates unveiled the Form of justice and outlined the social and political structure of the ideal state, which only those can run who can see the Form of justice. Against this background the arguments against the Forms raised by Parmenides become irrelevant.

When we realize that Plato dramatically staged the Parmenides so as to direct the reader’s mind towards the Republic, we can appreciate the significance of Adeimantus’ brief characterization of Antiphon ‘when Antiphon was young, he diligently and thoroughly rehearsed (eu mala diemeletêse) the arguments, though now, like his grandfather of the same name, he spends most of his time on horses’. As a youngster, Antiphon delighted in arguments against the Forms and in all the contradictions in which Parmenides involved ‘the one’: ‘Youngsters, when they first get the taste for arguments, they argue for amusement, always using arguments to effect contradiction (aei eis antilogian chrȏmenoi)’, Socrates points out to Glaucon in Republic 539b2-5. Such spiritual nourishment could not generate in Antiphon a lasting commitment to philosophy; those, whose mind is turned to real philosophy, become committed to it and delight in it the more the older they get.

Plato’s Parmenides and Parmenides’ poem On nature

In my present entry I shall investigate the relationship between Plato’s Parmenides and Parmenides’ poem On nature. Allen says that ‘Neither the historical Parmenides nor the historical Socrates could have spoken as they will here [i. e. in the Parmenides] be made do speak.’ (Plato’s Parmenides, Translated with Comment by R. E. Allen, p. 74) Allen’s claim concerning Socrates I discussed in the previous entry. Concerning Parmenides Allen claims that in the dialogue ‘he accepts the theory against which he states perplexities, and its attendant pluralism (135b-c) … To draw a Parmenides converted to the pluralism of the theory of Ideas is, according to the testimony of the Parmenides itself, to contradict one of the most striking features of his known thought.’ (p. 75) I shall argue that in the dialogue Parmenides does not ‘accept’ the theory of Forms. He views it as a theory well known to him, a theory which he had discussed with Zeno long before the two met Socrates. Far from being converted to the pluralism of the theory of Ideas, in the second part of the dialogue, in which he discusses the one, he comprehensively destroys the plurality of being and thus defends the oneness of Being against the challenge with which Socrates confronted him in the first part.

Let me begin with a summary account of Socrates’ challenge to Parmenides and Zeno. Socrates says to Parmenides: ‘In the poem (en tois poiêmasin) you say that All is one (hen phêis einai to pan) and provide proofs of it (kai toutȏn tekmêria parechêi) beautifully and well (kalȏs te kai eu), and Zeno says in turn that many are not (hode de au ou polla phêsin einai), and he too provides very many proofs and of great magnitude (tekmêria de kai autos pampolla kai pammegethê parechetai). When you say that only one is and Zeno says that many are not, although you appear to be saying different things, it seems that you in fact maintain the same thing (dokein schedon ti legontas t’auta)’. (128a8-b3). Zeno then himself confirms Socrates’ view that his ‘treatise is in truth a defence of Parmenides’ arguments’ (to ge alêthes boêtheia tis tauta ta grammata tȏi Parmenidou logȏi, 128c6-7).

Proofs that Parmenides presented in his poem are not discussed in the dialogue; Socrates focuses his attention on Zeno’s proof: ‘Don’t you say, Zeno, that if things that are, are many (ei polla esti ta onta), they must be both like and unlike (hȏs ara dei auta homoia te einai kai anomoia), which is quite impossible (touto de dê adunaton); for neither can the unlike be like nor the like unlike (oute gar ta anomoia homoia oute ta homia anomoia hoion te einai)? Isn’t this your claim?’ (127e1-4). ‘Just so,’ Zeno replies.

Socrates shares Zeno’s assumption that contradictory things cannot be. On this basis he challenges him to show that like and unlike and other Forms (eidê) are themselves in themselves contradictory; only thus would Parmenides’ thesis that ‘All is one’ be properly defended. He asks Zeno: ‘Do you not think that there is (einai) a Form in itself of likeness (auto kath’ hauto eidos ti homoiotêtos), and another Form, which is opposite to it, which is (estin) unlike (anomoion); and that of these two (toutoin de duoin ontoin), you and I and the other things, which we call many, get a share (metalambanein)? (128e6-129a3) … If all things get a share (metalambanein) of these contradictory Forms and by participating in both of them (tȏi metechein amphoin) become both like and unlike themselves to themselves (auta hautois), where is the wonder (ti thaumaston; 129a6-b1)? … If someone shows that that which is one (ho estin hen), this itself (auto touto) is many (polla), and the many is actually one (ta polla dê hen), I should be amazed (touto êdê thaumasaimi)’ (129b6-c1). And so concerning everything else; if the Kinds and Forms in themselves (ei auta ta genê kai ta eidê en hautois) someone showed to be affected by these contradictory affections (apophainoi t’anantia tauta pathê paschonta), that would be worthy of wonder (axion thaumazein) (129b6-c3).’

‘As Socrates was saying all this, Pythodorus said that he thought that Parmenides and Zeno would be annoyed at every word;’ (130a3-5) he was clearly well aware that if Parmenides’ poem could not be defended against Socrates’ challenge, its tenability would be seriously undermined. To his surprise, Zeno and Parmenides paid close attention to everything that Socrates had to say, and ‘often (thama) glanced at each other and smiled as if in admiration (130a5-7)’; the ‘theory of Forms’ was presumably nothing new to them.  – Plato’s Parmenides should prompt us to rethink Burnet’s view that the theory of Forms ‘was not originated by Plato, or even by Socrates, but is essentially Pythagorean’ (Plato’s Phaedo, Edited with Introduction and notes by John Burnet, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1911, p. xliii) Let me just note that the ancients viewed Parmenides as an associate of the Pythagoreans (DK I. Fr. A 4, pp. 218-9; A 12, p. 220; A 40a p. 225; A44 p. 225).

Parmenides opened his questioning of Socrates by asking him whether he himself thus distinguished ‘certain Forms separately by themselves (chȏris men eidê auta atta), and separately again the things that have a share in them (chȏris de ta toutȏn au metechonta, 130b1-3)?' Without waiting for Socrates’ answer, he asked further: ‘And likeness itself, does it seem to you to be something separate from the likeness which we have, and one of course (kai hen dê) and many (kai polla) and all those things (kai panta) that you just heard from Zeno?’ Socrates answered: ‘It seems so to me (Emoige).’ (130b3-5)

I shall skip Parmenides’ critical questioning of Socrates’ ‘theory of Forms’ for I have discussed it in the entry of November 14 ‘Plato as a critic of Aristotle’.

Parmenides closed his criticism with the words: ‘Nevertheless, if someone will not allow Forms of things to be (mê easei eidê tȏn ontȏn einai), in view of these and similar difficulties,  nor define some Form of each thing (mêde ti horieitai eidos henos hekastou), he won’t even have whither to turn his mind (oude hopoi trepsei tên dianoian hexei),  not allowing a Form of each thing to be ever the same (mê eȏn idean tȏn ontȏn hekastou tên autên aei einai); and so he will utterly destroy the power of discourse (kai houtȏs tên tou dialegesthai dunamin pantapasi diaphtherei).  I think you are only too aware of that sort of consequence.’ – ‘True,’ Socrates replied. – Parmenides: ‘What then will you do about philosophy? (Ti oun poiêseis philosophias peri;) Not knowing these things, which way will you turn? (Pêi trepsêi agnooumenȏn toutȏn;)’ – Socrates: ‘I can’t really see at the present moment.’ – Parmenides: ‘For too early (Prȏi gar), before being trained (prin gumnasthênai), you endeavour to define (horizesthai epicheireis) something beautiful, and just, and good (kalon te ti kai dikaion kai agathon) and each one of the Forms (kai hen hekaston tȏn eidȏn) (135b5-d1).’ Socrates asked: ‘What sort of training?’ Parmenides replied: ‘This (Houtos), which you heard from Zeno (honper êkousas Zênȏnos). But I admired this, which you said to him, that you did not allow to subject the wandering (tên planên) among the things we see nor concerning them to inspection, but concerning those things (alla peri ekeina), which one would most especially grasp by rational account (logȏi) and consider to be Forms (kai eidê an hêgêsaito einai). (135d7-e4)

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In Parmenides' poem, the contentious scrutiny concerning the truth must be decided by rational account (logȏi, fr. B 7, 5).

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What wandering (tên planên) does Parmenides have in mind? He says that one must examine not only what follows if like is and if unlike is, as Socrates has insisted, but one must examine furthermore what follows if like is not and if unlike is not (135e5-136a2): ‘Take, for example, the hypothesis that Zeno hypothesized, if many is, one must ask what must be the consequences for the many themselves relative to themselves and relative to the one, and for the one relative to itself and relative to the many. And in turn, if many is not, again consider what will be the consequences for the one and for the many relative to themselves and relative to each other.’ (136a4-b1)

Socrates saw that the task that Parmenides suggested was enormous and he did not quite understand it; he asked Parmenides ‘to hypothesize something and go through it’ (ti ou diêlthes autos hupothemenos ti), so that he could understand it better (136c6-8). When Parmenides said he was too old for such a great task, Socrates turned to Zeno: ‘Why don’t you go through it for us?’ – Zeno laughed and said: ‘Let’s ask Parmenides himself, for what he proposed is not an ordinary thing. Or don’t you see how great request you are making? … Without this going through and wandering through everything (aneu tautês tês dia pantȏn diexodou te kai planês) it is impossible to meet with truth (entuchonta tȏi alêthei) and gain intelligence (noun schein). Parmenides, I join Socrates in his request, so that I too may hear it all again (hina kai autos diakousȏ) after a long time (dia chronou).’ (136d4-e4)

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The definite article with which Parmenides qualifies the wandering (tên planên) at 135e2 suggests that he points to something definite. Parmenides says that Zeno exemplified it in his treatise, and outlines task of wandering in among the Forms. Zeno refers to it as ‘this going through and wandering through everything’. Socrates mentioned Parmenides’ poem, which he obviously knew well; does ‘the wandering’ have anything to do with the poem? The training to which both Parmenides and Zeno refer as ‘wandering’ is a preparatory, propaedeutic wandering; as such it corresponds to the proem: ‘Divine beings (daimones) brought me on the many-voiced road (es hodon bêsan poluphêmon) that carries a knowing man through all towns’ (hê kata pant’ astê pherei eidota phȏta) (fr. 1, 1-3) … the road which is outside the path trodden by men (hê gar ap’ anthrȏpȏn patou estin, fr. 1, 27)’. On this road he came to the house of Night, where the Goddess revealed to him ‘the unshakable heart of the well rounded Truth’ (Alêtheiês eukukleos atremes êtor, fr. 1, 29), to which the ‘Way of Truth’ is then devoted (DK I. Fr. 1, 1-29, pp. 228-230).

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Parmenides in the end gave in to the entreaties of Socrates, Zeno, Pythodorus, Aristoteles, and the unnamed other participants: ‘Do you wish, since I am to play this laborious game, that I begin with myself and my own hypothesis, hypothesizing about the one itself, if one is and if one is not (eite hen estin eite mê) (137b2-4), what must follow?’ As his interlocutor Parmenides proposed ‘the youngest, for he is the least likely to make difficulties, and would most likely answer what he thinks’ (137b6-7); this happened to be Aristoteles. Parmenides begins: ‘If one is (ei hen estin), the one would not be many (ouk an eiê polla to hen), would it? – Aristotle answers: ‘How could it be many?’  - ‘So it cannot have parts nor be a whole’ (137c4-6) ... ‘it can have neither beginning, middle, nor end (137d4-5) … it has no shape, for it does not have a share of straight or round (137d8-e1) … it has no share of time, nor is it at any time (141d4-5) … it never was, has become, was becoming, will be, will become, will have become, is, nor is becoming, for all these expressions appear to signify sharing of time (chronou methexin dokei sêmainein, 141d7-8), the one therefore has no share whatsoever in being (oudamȏs ara to hen ousias metechei, 141e9) … the one is neither one nor is (to hen oute hen estin oute estin, 141e12) … so it is neither named nor spoken of, it cannot be an object of opinion, it cannot be known, it cannot be perceived by senses’ (142a4-6) … ‘Can all this be the case concerning the one?’ (Ê dunaton oun peri to hen tauta houtȏs echein)? - Aristotle answers: ‘I don’t think so.’ (142a6-8)

Parmenides starts again: ‘Look (hora) from the beginning. If one is (hen ei estin), is it possible for it to be (ara hoion te auto einai men) but not have a share of being (ousias de mê metechein)?’ – Aristoteles: ‘Impossible.’(142b5-7)

The Greek terms eidos and idea are derived from the aorist stem of the verb horaȏ ‘see’, ‘look’. Jowett’s rendering of Parmenides’ ‘Look from the beginning ‘ (hora dê ex archês) ‘Then we will begin at the beginning’ and Allen’s ‘Then examine from the beginning’ obfuscate the fact that Parmenides is going to view ‘the one’ as a Form in terms of Socrates’ challenge to Zeno and Parmenides: ‘I would admire it much more, if someone could prove (epideixai) in the Forms themselves (en autois tois eidesi) this same perplexity (tên autên tautên aporian) interwoven in all kinds of ways; as you went through it concerning things we can see (hȏsper en tois horȏmenois diêlthete), so in those that are grasped by rational account (houtȏs kai en tois logismȏi lambanomenois, 129e6-130a1)’. The terms metechein, metalambanein, which signify ‘getting a share’, and ‘having a share’ in Forms, and which as such became central to Parmenides’ criticism of Socrates’ ‘Theory of Forms’ (130e5-133a6), become central to Parmenides’ discourse concerning ‘the one’.

Parmenides continues: ‘Then the being (hê ousia) of the one (tou henos) will not be the same as the one (eiê an ou t’auton ousa tȏi heni) … so when one says together that one is (epeidan tis syllêbdên eipêi hoti hen estin), this would mean (tout’ an eiê to legomenon) that the one partakes of being (hoti ousias metechei to hen) … the being and the one (hê te ousia kai to hen) are not the same (esti ou to auto) … the one must be a whole (holon) of which the one and the being become parts (toutou de gignesthai moria to te hen kai to einai) … each of these parts, the one and the being, both is, and is one, each is a whole with parts, each becomes two and never one (du’ aei gignomenon oudepote hen einai) … the one that is (to hen on) thus would turn to be unlimited in multitude (apeiron an to plêthos houtȏs eiê) (142b7-143a2) … one and two make three, three is odd, two is even (143d) … so if one is, there must be number (ei ara estin hen, anangkê kai arithmon einai, 144a4)’.

Parmenides begins to show that the perplexity – ‘if things that are, are many, they must be both like and unlike (hȏs ara dei auta homoia te einai kai anomoia), which is quite impossible (touto de dê adunaton); for neither can the unlike be like nor the like unlike (oute gar ta anomoia homoia oute ta homia anomoia hoion te einai, 127e1-4)’ – is interwoven in things that are grasped by rational account (logismȏi), as Zeno had shown them interwoven in things we can see. The assumption that contradictory things are impossible, they cannot be, which formed the basis of Zeno’s defence of Parmenides’ thesis that ‘All is one’, forms now the basis of Parmenides’ discourse on the one.

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On the same principle Parmenides rejected the multiplicity of things in his poem, describing as deaf and blind (kȏphoi homȏs tuphloi te) those ‘for whom (hois) to be and not to be (to pelein te kai ouk einai) is considered to be one and the same (t’auton nenomistai) and not one and the same (k’ou tauton, fr. B 6 7-9).’

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Parmenides continues: ‘Being a whole, the one must be limited (peperasmenon, 144e8) … the one that is (to hen ara on) is one and many, a whole and parts, limited and unlimited in multitude (145a2-3) … if the one is a whole, it has extremes (eschata), and it also has beginning (archên), middle (meson), and end (teleutên), and as such it would have a share (metechoi) of some shape (schêmatos tinos), straight, or round, or a mixture of both (145a4-b5) … it is in itself and in something different, it must always be both moved and in rest (146a6-7) … it is different from the others and from itself, and the same as the others and itself (147b6-8) … in like manner it is the same to itself and different from itself, like (homoion) and unlike (anomoion) itself (148d2-4) … it touches itself and the others and it does not touch itself nor the others … it occupies a space (chȏran, 148e9) … it has a share of time (metechei chronou, 152a2-3) … and there would be knowledge (epistêmê) and opinion (doxa) about it and perception (aisthêsis) of it, since just now we perform all these things regarding it (eiper kai nun hêmeis peri autou panta tauta prattomen, 155d6-7).’

Parmenides does not finish off the enquiry concerning ‘the one if it is’ on this positive-sounding note: ‘Yet once more and for the third time, let us consider: If the one is as we have described, must it not, being one and many and neither one nor many and taking share in time, in as far as it is one (hoti men estin hen), partake of being at some time (ousias metechein pote), and as far as it is not (hoti d’ ouk esti), at some time in turn not partake of being (mê metechein au pote ousias)? … then at a different time it partakes and at a different time it does not partake … then, isn’t there a time at which it assumes being (hote metalambanei tou einai) and at which it leaves off from it (kai hote apallattetai autou)? … “to assume being” (ousias metalambanein), wouldn’t you call it “to become” (gignesthai)? … and “to leave off from being” (apallattesthai ousias), wouldn’t you call it “to perish” (apollusthai)? … then the one, it seems, taking being and letting go of being (lambanon te kai aphien ousian), becomes and perishes (gignetai te kai apollutai).’ (155e4-156b1)

Parmenides goes on to review other kinds of change, such as changing from like to unlike and from unlike to like … from being in motion (hotan de kinoumenon) to standing still (histêtai) and from standing still (kai hotan hestos) to moving (epi to kineisthai metaballêi, 156c1-2). He argues that ‘there is no time (chronos de ge oudeis estin), at which anything can at once neither move nor stand still (en hȏi ti hoion te hama mête kineisthai mête hestanai), yet the one cannot change (all’ oude mên metaballei) without changing (aneu tou metaballein). When does it then change (Pot’ oun metaballei)? … Is this that strange thing (to atopon touto), in which it would be (en hȏi an eiê) when it changes (hote metaballei)?’ – Aristoteles: ‘What thing?’ – Parmenides: ‘The instant (To exaiphnês) … this strange nature (phusis atopos) sits in between movement and standing still (engkathêtai metaxu tês kinêseȏs kai staseȏs), being in no time at all (en oudeni chronȏi ousa), and into it and from it (kai eis tautên dê kai ek tautês) that which moves changes into standing still (to te kinoumenon metaballei epi to hestanai) and that which is standing still into moving (kai to hestos epi to kineisthai) … And the one too, since it stands still and moves, changes to each – for only thus it could do both – but changing it changes at an instant, and when it changes, it would be in no time at all, it would neither move nor stand still … On the same principle, in passing from one to many (ex henos epi polla ion) and from many to one, it is neither one nor many, it is neither in the process of separation nor in the process of aggregation. And in passing from like to unlike and unlike to like, it is neither like nor unlike, neither becoming like nor becoming unlike; and in passing from small to large and to equal, and in the opposite way, it is neither large nor small nor equal, neither grows nor diminishes nor becomes equal … By all these affection the one would be affected, if it is.’ (156c6-157b4) Parmenides then goes on to investigate how the others would be affected (ti de tois allois prosêkoi an paschein) if one is (157b6-160b4).

Then Parmenides explores what follows ‘if one is not’ (ei hen mê estin) (160b5-164b4), and then again how the others would be affected (t’alla ti chrê peponthenai) if one is not (164b5-166c2). The whole investigation, and thus the whole dialogue he ends with the words: ‘Whether one is or is not (hen eite estin eite mê estin), it and the others (auto te kai t’alla), in relation to themselves and to each other (kai pros hauta kai pros allêla), all in every way are and are not (panta pantȏs esti te kai ouk esti), and appear and do not appear (kai phainetai te kai ou phainetai). (166c3-5).’

Parmenides’ discussion of the hypothesis if one is and if one is not, what follows, does not arrive at the truth of All is one; it ends in the realization that ‘many’ are implicated in contradictions in every way. The discussion in the dialogue thus corresponds to the proem in Parmenides’ poem On nature, in which the knowing man (eidota phȏta) is carried through everything that can be perceived by the senses to the gate of Night.  – The truth that ‘being is and that not being is not’ (hopȏs esti te kai hȏs ouk esti mê einai, fr. B 2, 3) is the result of divine revelation (fr. B 1, 22-32), which forms the main part of the poem.

What is the ontological status of ‘the one and the others’ discussed in the Parmenides in the light of Parmenides’ poem? It cannot be discarded as not-being, which is ‘utterly inscrutable (panapeuthês), for the not-being cannot be known (oute gar an gnoiês to mê eon), for it cannot be accomplished (ou gar anuston), it cannot be expressed (oute phrasais, fr. B 2, 6-8). In the light of fr. B, 3, their ontological status consists in being thought: ‘for being and thinking is the same’ (to gar auto noein esti te kai einai). Thinking identified in the poem with being and being identified with thinking transcends the subjective thinking that goes on in our minds. In the Parmenides, when Socrates tries to avoid the difficulties concerning the Forms by identifying them with thoughts in our souls (132b3-6), Parmenides rejects this attempt by pointing out that thoughts in our souls must be of something, namely of the Forms. The one and the many, and all the Forms derived from these in the course of his propaedeutic exercise are not the thoughts in his head or in the head of Aristoteles, his interlocutor, or in the heads of those around them; they are the Forms to which Parmenides points with his words and which he makes vivid to Aristotle, his interlocutor, and thus to Socrates, Pythodorus, and the rest of the audience.

The largest preserved fragment of Parmenides’ poem is devoted to the ‘being which is ungenerated and imperishable (agenêton eon kai anȏlethron estin), whole (oulomeles) and unshakable (atremes), and without aim (ateleston), which never was nor will be (oude pot’ ên oud’ estai), for it is all together now (epei nun estin homou pan), one (hen), continuous (suneches)’ (B 8, 3-6). Within the framework of ‘being that truly is’ (pelein kai etêtumon einai, B 8, 18) Parmenides locates all thought; its purpose is nothing but thinking: ‘Thinking and what thought is for is one and the same (t’auton d’ esti noein te kai houneken esti noêma), for you will not find thinking without being, in which it is expressed’ (ou gar aneu tou eontos, en hȏi pephatismenon estin, heurêseis to noein). For nothing is or ever will be other than being (ouden gar estin ê estai allo parex tou eontos), since the Fate has bound it (epei to ge Moir’ epedêsen) to be whole and unmoved (oulon akinêton t’ emenai). Because of this (tȏi), everything will be a name (pant’ onom’ estai), everything that the mortals have posited (hossa brotoi katethento) believing to be true (pepoithotes einai alêthê), to come to be and to perish (gignesthai te kai ollusthai), to be and not to be (einai te kai ouchi), to change place (kai topon allassein) and alter the shining colour (dia te chroa phanon ameibein).’ (B 8, 34-41)

The Phaedo and the Parmenides

In my last entry I questioned Allen’s claim that the narrative scheme of Plato’s Parmenides ‘is designed to produce a sense of remoteness from the conversation’ and thus indicate that ‘the conversation that follows is a fiction’ which ‘could not have occurred’ (Plato’s Parmenides, Translated with Comment by R. E. Allen, p. 69). Plato’s brother Adeimantus confirms as true (alêthê) that Antiphon can relate from memory the arguments that once were discussed by Socrates, Zeno, and Parmenides, having often heard them from Pythodorus. Furthermore, Adeimantus says that when Antiphon was young he used to rehearse the arguments diligently.

Next, I queried Allen’s claim that ‘neither the historical Parmenides nor the historical Socrates could have spoken as they will here be made to speak. Their chief topic of discussion is the Theory of Ideas, a theory which, if the historical Socrates held a version of it, he came to entertain in middle life (Phaedo 96a-100a)’ (Allen, p.74). There is nothing in the Phaedo that suggests that Socrates came to entertain the Theory of Ideas in middle life.

Furthermore, I maintained that there is nothing in the Phaedo that should compel us to reject off hand the possibility that the very young Socrates became disappointed with the theories of philosophers on nature prior to his encounter with Zeno and Parmenides. ‘And yet’, I ended the entry, ‘reading the Parmenides and the Phaedo against the background of Parmenides’ poem On nature, I am compelled to see Socrates differently.’ I had in mind a passage in the Phaedo in which Socrates describes the state of mind in which he found himself after abandoning his search for ‘wisdom known as natural science’ (peri phuseȏs historian), his desire to discover or learn the reasons (tas aitias) for each thing, why each thing comes to be, why it perishes, and why it exists’ (Phd. 96a8-10):

‘Then I no longer understand nor can I recognize those other wise reasons; but if anyone gives me as the reason why a given thing is beautiful either its having a blooming colour, or its shape, or something else like that, I dismiss those other things – because all those other confuse me – but in a plain, artless, and possibly simple-minded way, I hold this close to myself: nothing else makes it beautiful except that beautiful itself, whether by its presence or communion or whatever the manner and nature of the relation may be, as I don’t go so far as to affirm that, but only that it is by the beautiful that all beautiful things are beautiful.’ (Phd. 100c9-d8, tr. D. Gallop)

In the light of this passage, the theory of Forms that Socrates adopted after his disenchantment with the philosophy of nature is not a newly invented theory; it is a theory deeply marked by Parmenides’ criticism of the young Socrates’ theory. (To Parmenides’ questioning of Socrates’ original theory of Forms is devoted my entry ‘Plato as a critic of Aristotle’, November 14.) Parmenides did not end his criticism of Socrates’ theory by rejecting the Forms, but by affirming them: ‘Only a man of considerable natural gifts will be able to learn that there is a kind of each thing (genos ti hekastou), a substance alone by itself (ousia autê kath’ hautên), and even more remarkable will discover this and will be able to teach it to someone who has examined all these difficulties with sufficient care.’ (Parm. 134e9-135b2) But he did not provide any reason for his affirmation of it, nor did he offer any solution for the objections he had raised against it. The state in which Parmenides thus left the young Socrates was a state of profound philosophic ignorance. But was not the state of philosophic ignorance a state too difficult to bear by a young man?

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Allen determines Socrates’ age at that time as follows: ‘Since Socrates died at seventy in 399, the dramatic date of the conversation probably falls between 452 and 449 B.C. Granting those limits, it is possible to be more precise. The occasion of the meeting is the Great Panathenaea, the chief civic festival of Athens, which was celebrated, like the Olympic Games, at intervals of four years. That festival fell in 450.’ (p. 72)

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Parmenides ended his criticism of Socrates’ theory of Forms by addressing him with the words: ‘Your impulse toward argument is noble and indeed divine. 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. Otherwise, the truth will escape you.’ (135d2-6, tr. Allen) What kind of training Parmenides had in mind? ‘To examine the consequences that follow from the hypothesis, not only if each thing is hypothesized to be, but also if that same thing is hypothesized not to be, if you wish to be better trained … Take, if you like, Zeno’s hypothesis, if many is. What must follow for the many themselves relative to themselves and relative to the one, and for the one relative to itself and relative to the many? If, on the other hand, many is not, consider again what will follow both for the one and for the many, relative to themselves and relative to each other. Still again, should you hypothesize if likeness is, or if it is not, what will follow on each hypothesis both for the very things hypothesized and for the others, relative to themselves and relative to each other. The same account holds concerning unlikeness, and about motion, and about rest, and about coming to be and ceasing to be, and about being itself and not being. In short, concerning whatever may be hypothesized as being and as not being and as undergoing any other affection whatever, it is necessary to examine the consequences relative to itself and relative to each one of the others, whichever you may choose, and relative to more than one and relative to all in like manner. And the others, again, must be examined both relative to themselves and relative to any other you may choose, whether you hypothesize what you hypothesize as being or as not being, if you are to be finally trained accurately to discern the truth.’ (135e9-136c5, tr. Allen)

This was not the road that could possibly lead Socrates to a theory of Forms immune to Parmenides’ critical objections. An attempt to find truth by pursuing ‘wisdom known as natural science’ (peri phuseȏs historian) was the most natural course for him to pursue next. Especially since Parmenides at the beginning of their discussion rebuked him as immature for leaving out of consideration the Form of man, fire, water, hair, mud and dirt: ‘You are still young, Socrates, and philosophy has not yet taken hold of you as I think it one day will. You will despise none of these things then’ (130a1-3, tr. Allen).

Along these lines, the entry I intended to write on December 5 was to be devoted to viewing the Parmenides against the background of the Phaedo. But on December 5 I realized that I had to do more work before making the attempt. For to accept the conversation of Socrates, Zeno, and Parmenides as essentially true means to change radically the view of Plato developed by Platonic scholars in the last two centuries. As Cornford puts it: ‘To suppose that anything remotely resembling the conversation in this dialogue [in the Parmenides, J. T.] could have occurred … would make nonsense of the whole history of philosophy in the fifth and fourth centuries.’ (Quoted by Allen as an argument ‘decisive by itself’, p. 74.)

Before venturing to go any further, I decided to read the Phaedo against the background of the Parmenides, which I finished yesterday. This confirmed me in my view that the Parmenides should be read as Plato presents it with reference to his brother Adeimantus, that is as essentially true (for which see my previous entry on ‘The narrative scheme of the Parmenides’).

The narrative scheme of the Parmenides

R. E. Allen prefaces his ‘Comment’ on Plato’s Parmenides with a motto from Kitto’s Form and Meaning in Drama: ‘the connexion between the form and the content is so vital that the two may be said to be ultimately identified … it follows that it is quite meaningless to consider one of them without constant reference to the other’. In the opening words of the ‘Comment’ Allen describes the narrative scheme of the dialogue: ‘The Parmenides is narrated by Cephalus of Clazomenae, who has heard it from Plato’s half-brother, Antiphon, who heard it in turn from Pythodorus, a student of Zeno, who was present at the original conversation.’ (Plato’s Parmenides, Translated with Comment by R. E. Allen, Yale University Press, 1997, p. 69). He then interprets it: ‘This structure is designed to produce a sense of remoteness from the conversation … The conversation that follows is a fiction: it could not have occurred.’ (p. 71) ‘The Parmenides is fiction, meant to be read as such.’ (p. 73)

I view the narrative scheme of the dialogue and its meaning very differently, for the introductory discussion is as follows: “When we arrived at Athens from our home in Clazomenae, we met Adeimantus and Glaucon in the Agora. Adeimantus took my hand and said, ‘Welcome, Cephalus, and if you need anything here that we can provide, please say so.’ ‘Why really,’ I replied, ‘we’re here for that very reason: to ask something of you.’ ‘You have only to state it,’ he said. ‘What was the name,’ I said, ‘of your half-brother on your mother’s side? I don’t remember. He was just a boy, the last time I came here from Clazomenae; but that was a long time ago now. His father’s name, I think, was Pyrilampes.’ ‘Quite so,’ he said, ‘and his own is Antiphon. But why do you ask?’ ‘These gentlemen here,’ I said, ‘are fellow citizens of mine, much interested in philosophy. They’ve heard that your Antiphon used to associate with a certain Pythodorus, a companion of Zeno’s, and that he can relate from memory the arguments that once were discussed by Socrates, Zeno, and Parmenides, having often heard them from Pythodorus.’ ‘True’ (Alêthê), he said. ‘Well,’ I replied, ‘that’s what we want, to hear these arguments.’ ‘No difficulty there,’ he said. ‘When Antiphon was young he used to rehearse them diligently … if you will, let’s call on him’ … So we set out to walk, and found Antiphon at home … When we asked him to go through the arguments, he at first hesitated – he said it was a difficult task. But finally, he complied.” (Translation R. E. Allen)

The introductory discussion is between Cephalus of Clazomenae and Plato’s brother Adeimantus. Adeimantus confirms that it is true (alêthê) that Antiphon ‘can relate from memory the arguments that once were discussed by Socrates, Zeno, and Parmenides, having often heard them from Pythodorus’; he tells Cephalus that when Antiphon was young he used to rehearse the arguments diligently.

Plato presents his two brothers in the Republic as men deeply interested in philosophy. In the 6^th book of the Republic Socrates emphasizes that love of truth and rejection of lies is characteristic of a philosopher (485c). Throughout the length of the Republic Plato’s two brothers attentively follow every word of Socrates; in the Parmenides they do not depart after introducing Cephalus to Antiphon; they presumably enjoy Antiphon’s narrative just as Cephalus and his friends do. If there are reasons for viewing the conversation between Socrates, Zeno and Parmenides narrated by Antiphon as a fiction, which could not have occurred, the reasons must be powerful enough to overturn the expectation of its truthfulness invoked by the narrative scheme.

Allen maintains that ‘neither the historical Parmenides nor the historical Socrates could have spoken as they will here be made to speak. Their chief topic of discussion is the Theory of Ideas, a theory which, if the historical Socrates held a version of it, he came to entertain in middle life (Phaedo 96a-100a) … Those who were to read the Parmenides were students in the Academy, who would have read and remembered the Phaedo. They could hardly have supposed, what is in any case patently absurd, that Socrates held as a lad of twenty the theory he there defends on the day of his death. The Phaedo itself forbids this view: it tells us that Socrates, when young, devoted himself to the study of the physical philosophers (96aff.), and that it was not until he had abandoned their sort of speculation that he developed the theory of Ideas’ (99d-100b). (p. 74-75)

Pace Allen, there is nothing in the Phaedo that suggests that Socrates came to entertain the Theory of Ideas in middle life. Socrates says ‘When I was young I was remarkably keen on the kind of wisdom known as natural science (peri phuseȏs historian); it seemed to me splendid to know the reasons (tas aitias) for each thing, why each thing comes to be, why it perishes, and why it exists. And I was always shifting back and forth, examining, firstly, questions like these: is it, as some said (hȏs tines elegon), whenever the hot (to thermon) and the cold (to psuchron) give rise to putrefaction, that living creatures develop? And is it blood that we think with, or air, or fire? Or is it none of these, but the brain that provides the senses of hearing and seeing and smelling, from which memory and judgment come to be; and is it from memory and judgment, when they’ve acquired stability, that knowledge come to be accordingly? Next, when I went on to examine (skopȏn) the destruction of these things, and what happens in the heavens and the earth, I finally (teleutȏn) judged myself to have absolutely no gift for this kind of enquiry.’ (96a7-c2, tr. D. Gallop)

It is worth noting at this point that Aristotle says in the 1^st book of Metaphysics that Parmenides [in the part of his poem devoted to the world as it is apprehended by our senses] posited ‘two causes (duo tas aitias) and two principles (kai duo tas archas), hot and cold (thermon kai psuchron)’ (986b333-4). Furthermore, Plato in the Parmenides presents us with Socrates who, although ‘quite young’, was well versed in Parmenides’ poem [On nature (Peri phuseȏs)]. For after a brief exchange with Zeno Socrates turns to Parmenides ‘Zeno has written to much the same effect as you … In your poems, you say that All is one, and you provide fine and excellent proofs of this. He, on the other hand, says it is not many, and himself also provides proofs great in multitude and magnitude. So you say one, he says not many, and each so speaks that though there is no difference at all in what you mean, what you say scarcely seems the same.’ (128a-b, tr. Allen)

If we find in the Parmenides Socrates well versed in Parmenides’ poem, I see no reason to reject off hand the possibility that Socrates’ disappointment with Anaxagoras’ treatise on Intellect (nous, Phaedo 97b8-99c6) – with which his preoccupation with natural science ended (Phaedo 99d4-5) – and his taking refuge in discourse, in concepts, in which he thereafter examined the truth of things (edoxe dê moi chrênai eis tous logous kataphugonta en ekeinois skopein tȏn logȏn tên alêtheian, 99e4-6), took place prior to his encounter with Zeno and Parmenides. And yet, reading the Parmenides and the Phaedo against the background of Parmenides’ poem On nature, I am compelled to see Socrates differently.

The Citizens Advice Bureau intervenes

This morning I wrote to the Citizens Advice Bureau in Stroud:

Many thanks for your letters of 12^th and 19^th November. On 12^th November you sent me a letter from The Pension Service addressed to you, in which Glyn Caron wrote: ‘It must be remembered that Dr Tomin has been repaying this overpayment since approximately 2009 without complaint.’

This is not true, I was not repaying a penny. I never accepted that I was in any way indebted to Pension Service. The Pension Service has been taking money off my Pension Credit – now from my State Pension – since 2009. On March 30/ 2014 I wrote to the Manager of The Pension Service 1:

“In a letter dated 25^th March you wrote to me: ‘At January 2014, the amount you still owe will be £ 637.38.’ I never accepted any debt on my part, as you may see from the relevant part of my letter of 7/10/2009 a copy of which I enclose. I have never been given the evidence on the basis of which my debt was decided, and my appeal against the decision had therefore no effect. Now I shall do everything in my power to find a lawyer who would investigate the decision professionally.”

On 01 May 2014 I got a letter from The Pension Service 1 that stated: ‘Thank you for your letter regarding your Pension Credit. [This clearly indicates that this is a reply to my letter of 30^th March.] There has been an overpayment of Pension Credit from 20 January 2014 which we have deemed non recoverable from you.’

I received this letter with relief, for I thought that was the end of the matter. But then, in a letter dated 16/05/2014 I was told: ‘Amount owed £10,535.38 … We will take £52.00 from your benefit every four weeks, starting from the payment you are due to receive on 02/06/2014 … Deductions will continue to be taken every four weeks until the amount owed is paid back … 02/06/2014 – 20/04/2026.’

My weekly State pension of £39.01, which is my only income, was thus reduced to £28.38 a week. This is why I decided to ask you to help me obtain clarity into the basis on which the Pension Service decided to find me in debt of £11,763.64, of which they informed me in a letter of 11^th August 2009.

This date of the Pension Service letter, 11^th August 2009, is worth noting, for as you have informed me on 12^th November 2014 Glyn Caron from The Pension Service 1 sent you a copy of a letter addressed to me, dated 18/02/2009. I had not received the letter dated 18^th February 2009. It was in the letter dated 11^th August 2009 in which I was informed about the alleged debt; this letter I received under the circumstances, which I described to Ursula Grum, Debt Management, in a letter of 07/10/2009: “In a letter of 08/09/2009 you informed me that my Pension Credit was overpaid £158.34 for the period 06/07/2009 – 26/07/2009. I received the letter on Monday September 14. In the letter you stated: ‘The overpayment occurred because on 09/07/2009 your circumstances changed and the office that paid your benefit was not told at the correct time about a change to the level of earnings in your household.’ This allegation is false. On 23^rd July 2009 I sent The Pension Service a letter in which I informed you of my wife’s earnings for three days of supply teaching for the period 2 to 14 July, and I enclosed the three pay slips. I did so as soon as my wife received the pay. I did not contact you on the day 8/9 on which I received your letter, for I expected a visit from the Pension Service Liaison Officer, announced for the following day, with whom I wanted to discuss the issue.

On September 15 I was visited by the Pension Service Customer Liaison Officer to whom I showed the relevant documents concerning the supposed overpayment. At that point she gave me your letter of 11^th August 2009 in which you inform me that in the period from 01/08/2008 to 12/10/2008 I was overpaid £11,688.36, and from 13/10/2005 to 19/10/2008 I was overpaid £75.28, which is in total £11, 763.64. I phoned your department in the officer’s presence, appealing against your decision.

In a letter dated 22/09/2009 you wrote to me: ‘We have looked again at the facts and evidence we used to make our decision and looked at the points raised. As a result we have not changed our original decision.’ In a letter dated 30 September 2009 The Pension Service informed me that at your request £9.75 was deduced from my Pension Credit: ‘the amount you still owe will be £1846.66.’ A mistake? In a letter, also dated 30 September, you wrote to me ‘about the £11,846.70 still owed’. Would you tell me, please, how you arrived at the sum £11,846.70, which I allegedly still owe you?”

In October I received the following letter from The Pension Service in Cardiff, dated 6 October 2009: ‘I am writing to tell you we will not be taking money for Overpayment from your Pension Credit. This is because these deductions have been cancelled.’ Signed by Paul Lewis, Manager.

A few days later I received a letter of 13/10/2009 from Debt Management, Mitcheldean, Oxfordshire, from which I quote: ‘Thank you for your letter to us dated 07/10/2009 … The overpayment of £158.34 for the period 06/07/09 – 26/07/09 is due to an increase in your wife’s part time earnings from 09/07/09, and we were aware of this on the 26/07/09, as you informed us by letter. The second overpayment was for a total of £11,763.04 for the period 01/08/2005-12/10/2008, but of this total, £75.28 was deemed to be Official Error and was written off, leaving the recoverable amount as £11,688.36. This overpayment was due to your wife’s self employment earnings … If you can provide us with evidence that these overpayments were not your fault, you can appeal against this decision.’

I had been sending regularly to the Pension Service in Cardiff the information about self-employment earnings of my wife. What more evidence could I have given them?

In your letter 19 November 2014 you write: ‘they [i.e. The Pension Service 1] have sent a copy of the letter where you clearly requested the decision about the overpayment be looked at again, I wondered if you had intended this to be the appeal? … Can you recall why you did not choose to pursue this at this stage?’

My conflict or controversy was never primarily with the Pension Service or Debt Management of the Department for Work and Pensions; my conflict had been and still is primarily with Oxford University. I came to Oxford in 1980 at the invitation of the Master of Balliol. Since then I have been working to my best abilities in my domain, which is Ancient Philosophy. On November 18 1989 Nick Cohen published ‘The Pub Philosopher’ in which he wrote: ‘The judgments passed by Oxford dons on Julius Tomin seem outrageously brutal … Jonathan Barnes, Professor of Ancient Philosophy at Balliol College, Oxford, impatiently brushed aside the suggestion that the Conservatives’ reduction in funding for British philosophy since 1980 might explain why there was never an academic post for Tomin at Oxford. “That’s not the point at all,” he said. “He would not be accepted as a graduate here, let alone be given a teaching job.”’ – This amounts to a blacklisting, with all the consequences that blacklisting entails. If my weekly income is nowadays £28.38 a week, it is one of its consequences.

Let me now refer to a curious juncture at which the attitude of Oxbridge dons to my work and the actions of the Pension Service overlaped. From 2000 to 2008 I worked on my book on Plato; the first volume of this book I published on my website www.juliustomin.org under the title The Lost Plato. The ‘Preface’ consists of ‘Eleven e-mails on The Lost Plato addressed to Classicists and Classical Philosophers’. In the 1^st email I wrote that the 1^st volume deals with dialogues written prior to Socrates’ death: ‘What remains to be done from the perspective opened by The Lost Plato is a systematic study of the dialogues written after Socrates’ death. In your view, should this work be undertaken? If so, what can be done that it is undertaken in conditions worthy of the work it requires?’

A distinguished Classical Philosopher from Cambridge University Nicholas Denyer, supported by David Lee from Oxford University, wrote a decisive No to these two questions. In my 6^th e-mail I wrote: “As of yesterday my questions acquired an unexpectedly grave existential dimension. From the Stroud District Council I received the following letter: ‘We have been advised that your Pension Credits have stopped, which may affect your entitlement to Housing or Council Tax Benefits. We have therefore suspended payments of these benefits in accordance with Regulation 11 of the Decision and Appeals Regulations 2001. There is no right of appeal against this decision.’ I phoned the Council, informed the lady I spoke to that my wife, who was self-employed on a part time basis until September is now studying at Cheltenham, taking a year-long post-graduate course to become a teacher. The lady told me that on the information they received from the Pension Service my Pension Credits were disconnected as of July 2008. This surprised me, for when I asked my wife a few days ago whether I was receiving the Pension Credit as normal, she looked at my account and said ‘yes’. I was advised to contact the Pension Service, which I did. The lady I spoke to told me that my last Pension Credit payment would be sent to me on October 19: ‘Your Pension Credit is stopped because we have been informed that you and your wife are receiving Working Tax Credit.’ I told the lady that they were badly misinformed, for my wife ceased to work, as I duly informed their office at the beginning of September. I pointed to a letter I received from her office on 10 September, which said: ‘Thank you for informing us of the cessation of your partner’s self-employment.’

The Pension Credit I had been receiving until October 19 was £62.79 a week. Since we neither smoke nor drink, and live frugally, we have been able to survive. This morning I received a letter from the Pension Services, dated 13 October 2008, which says that ‘from 21 July 2008 you will get £5.10 a week. From July 2008 you are not entitled to Pension Credit … the minimum amount of money the Government says you must have each week taking account of specific circumstances is £189.35. State pension for Julius Tomin £31.38. Working Tax Credit for Doina Cornell £70.18. Earnings of Doina Cornell [my wife has kept her maiden name] £82.69. Total income £184.25. Your appropriate amount of £189.35, less your total income of £184.25. So your total guarantee credit is £5.10.’

I see a certain similarity between Denyer’s NO and the Pension Service calculations. Denyer does not need to look at a single page of The Lost Plato in order to proclaim confidently that there is no reason to suppose that my views are correct and that therefore my question whether my future work deserves to be undertaken in conditions worthy of such work deserves a NO. I may phone and write to Pension Service as often as I wish, informing the office workers that my wife is now a student, that she has no earnings, that we consequently do not receive any Working Tax Credit – the Pension Credit officers KNOW better.”

After I sent this email to my Oxford and Cambridge colleagues, without any explanation my Pension Credit was renewed and paid retrospectively for all the weeks and months it had been disconnected. We could repay my wife’s parents the money we had borrowed to survive. – But let me return to the statement from the Pension Service lady ‘Your Pension Credit is stopped because we have been informed that you and your wife are receiving Working Tax Credit.’ Who had misinformed the Pension Service? It must have been someone whom they trusted. Was it not the same source on the basis of which the Pension Service decided in 2009 that I owed them £11,846.70?

The overpayment of £158.34 of which I was informed in a letter of 08/09/2009 was calculated as follows: 06/07/2009 -12/07/2009 weeks 1, days 0, Incorrect Paid 165.5, Correct Payable 111.78, Excess 53.72, Amount overpaid 53.72; 20/07/2009-26/07/2009 weeks 1, days 0, Incorrect Paid 165.5, Correct Payable 60.88, Excess 104.62, Amount overpaid 104.62. The misgiving concerning this overpayment I articulated in my letter to Ursula Grum. At the time for which the Overpayment was calculated my wife had not received the pay slips: Ursula Grum wrote ‘office that paid your benefit was not told at the correct time about a change to the level of earnings in your household.’ I replied: ‘This allegation is false. On 23^rd July 2009 I sent The Pension Service a letter in which I informed you of my wife’s earnings for three days of supply teaching for the period 2 to 14 July, and I enclosed the three pay slips. I did so as soon as my wife received the pay.’

The Overpayment Calculation for the period of 01/08/2005-19/10/2008 is very different: 01/08/2005-09/04/2006 Weeks 36 Days 0 Incorrect Pay 71.9 Correct Payable 0 Excess 71.9 Amount overpaid 2,588.40. 10/04/2006-30/7/2006 Weeks 16 Days 0 Incorrect paid 78.14 Correct Payable 0 Excess 78.14 Amount overpaid 1,250.24. 31/07/2006-08/04/2007 Weeks 36/ Incorrect paid 62.21 Correct Payable 0 Excess 62.21 Amount Overpaid 2,239.56. 09/04/2007-06/04/2008 Weeks 52 Days 0 Incorrect Paid 68.8 Correct Payable 0 Excess 68.8 Amount Overpaid 3,577.60. 6007/04/2008-19/10/2008 Weeks 28 Days 0 Incorrect Paid 75.28 Correct Payable 0 Excess 75.28 Amount Overpaid 2,107.84.

In those days I worked very intensively on my book The Lost Plato. As I have written in the 6^th email of my ‘Preface’, written in October 2008, I asked my Oxbridge colleagues whether this work deserved to be undertaken in conditions worthy of such work; they replied NO. Doesn’t the Overpayment Calculation for the years 2005-2008 clearly indicate that in the eyes of those on the basis of whose intervention Pension Service calculated my ‘debt’ I should not have been paid a penny even when I had been writing The Lost Plato?

Your last question was ‘Can you recall why you did not choose to pursue this at this stage?’ Prompted by your question, I have recalled that I did my best to do so, as my exchange of letters with David Drew, who was my MP in those days, indicates. David Drew wrote to me on 22^nd September 2009: ‘Thank you for your e-mail of 17 September. I am sorry to hear about your problems with Pension Credit. If you would kindly send me your National Insurance number and a few more details of the problem, I am happy to look into this on your behalf.’

The letter from the Pension Service of 6 October 2009 that stated ‘we will not be taking money for Overpayment from your Pension Credit’ may have been sent to me in response to David Drew’s intervention.

These good intentions on the part of the Pension Service failed to come into effect; I wrote to David Drew on the 10^th of January 2010: “I am sorry to bother you again concerning the alleged debt which I am supposed to pay Debt Management of the Department for Work and Pensions. I know that you are very busy and work very hard on behalf of your constituents, and I, being a Czech citizen, cannot even give you my vote. Still, I should greatly appreciate it if you asked Debt Management of the Department for Work and Pensions (Contact Centre Nuneaton, Debt Management, PO Box 171, Micheldean, Gloucestershire, GL17 0XG, tel. 0845 602 3881) and Paul Lewis at The Pension Service in Cardiff, on what basis was the decision originally made concerning my alleged debt, on what basis it was then cancelled, and on what basis it was made again. To inform you about some steps that I am making in this matter, I am sending you in the Attachment the e-mail I have sent to the Master of Balliol. I wish you all the best in the year 2010.”

It is good to see that the Citizens Advice Bureau in Stroud is prepared to intercede in a case, which even a well-meaning MP ultimately set aside as hopeless.