Plato

You are currently browsing articles tagged Plato.

Plato: Criterion Problems

In preparation for my Plato seminar tomorrow, I have been reading over book 6 and 7 of The Republic. I noticed that in the early passages of Book 7 Socrates admits to an assumption with unfortunate implications. Proceeding his initial exposition of the Cave parable, Socrates qualifies the conclusions drawn in the final section of Book 6:

If you identify the upward path and the view of things above with the ascent of the soul to the realm of understanding, then you will have caught my drift — my surmise — which is what you wanted to hear. Whether it is really true, perhaps god only knows. My own view, for what it’s worth, is that in the realm of what can be known the thing seen last, and seen with great difficulty, is the form or character of the good. But when it is seen, the conclusion must be that it turns out to be the cause of all that is right and good for everything. (517b)

Thus, the truth of Socrates’ first principle, the Good, is no more than an assumption. This assumption is a troubling one, given his preceding explanation of the divided line, particularly his distinction between thinking and understanding, as given by the contrasting examples of philosophic and scientific inquiry. To elucidate this contrast, Socrates first provides an example of thinking, where one “is compelled to work from assumptions, proceeding to an end-point, rather than back to an origin or first principle. (510b)” By way of analogy, Socrates characterizes the methods of the geometers:

When people are doing things like geometry and arithmetic, there are some things they take for granted in their respective disciplines. Odd and even, figures and the three types of angle. That sort of thing. Taking these as known, they make them into assumptions. They see no need to justify them either to themselves or to anyone else. They regard them as plain to anyone. Starting from these, they then go through the rest of their argument, and finally reach, by agreed steps, that which they set out to investigate. (510c)

This methodology moves from the realm of the doxa to the realm the forms, but since they “use assumptions as first principles” (511d) and treat their models as images rather than forms, they relegate their inquiry to the domain of belief and conjecture. Given that the faculties of reason are a tool of mathematics, however, the geometers reach the first part of the second section, that of thinking, the “halfway house between opinion and understanding. (511d)” This differs from the philosophic mode of inquiry, which “goes from an assumption to an origin or first principle which is free from assumptions. (510b)” The philosopher, then, does not proceed from the doxa, but from the dialectic alone:

Finally, by the other section of the line representing the objects of understanding you must take me to mean what reason itself grasps by the power of dialectic, when it uses assumptions not as first principles, but as true “bases” — points to take off from, entry-points — until it gets to what is free from assumptions, and arrives at the origin or first principle of everything. This it seizes hold of, then turns round and follows the things which follow from this first principle, and so makes its way down to an end-point. It makes no use at all of any object of the senses, but only of pure forms — working through them and towards them. And it ends in forms. (511bc)

Here we land in some trouble. Socrates states that for one to gain access to the realm of understanding, one must proceed from assumptions to that which lacks assumptions–a first principle–by the dialectic alone. Now, Plato began his dialectic with an inquiry into the nature of justice, and moved from justice to knowledge or understanding. It is his premises regarding these concepts that entail his first principle, and by assuming the truth of his first principle he seems to be affirming the consequent.

Socrates is running into the problem of the criterion. The power of the dialectic can only establish the validity of his argument, not its soundness. To establish the truth of his premises he faces a choice, he must either (a) descend into the realm of the doxa or (b) justify a circular form of reasoning. Given (a) Socrates is in no better a position than the geometers, and would thus be relegated to the halfway house between opinion and understanding. The alternative, on the other hand, is a more interesting matter. That is to say, if Socrates’ arguments are enthymematic, in that they presuppose his first principle, G, and if G entails his conclusions regarding knowledge, justice, and the like and these conclusions jointly entail his first principle, then the truth of G establishes the soundness of his arguments. Circular, but not viciously so. A problem remains, unfortunately, for the truth of G is only assumed, not established, and it seems the only method by which Socrates might establish this assumption is, again, either (a) by a descent into the realm of the doxa or (b) by an appeal to the agreement of his interlocutors. Unfortunately, given this strategy Socrates has simply passed the buck, for (a) lands him back in his halfway house and (b) simply widens the circle.

Tags: ,

Plato: Knowledge, Wisdom, and True Belief

Re-reading the Symposium Sunday night, I stumbled across a passage which I had not noticed before, and it is quite intriguing. As Diotima’s speech begins (202a), she points out to Socrates that there is something between wisdom and ignorance: correct judgment1. Specifically, “judging things correctly without being able to give a reason.” This is an interesting definition,as it amounts to a true belief rather than knowledge, which would constitute the additional constraint of being able to give a reason. Looking to the road to Larissa passage in the Meno (97b-99b), Socrates notes:

True opinions [true belief]. For true opinions, as long as they remain, are a fine thing and all they do is good, but they are not willing to remain long, and they escape from a man’s mind, so that they are not worth much until one ties them down by (giving) an account of the reason why. [...] After they are tied down, in the first place they become knowledge, and then they remain in place. That is why knowledge is prized higher than correct opinion, and knowledge differs from correct opinion in being tied down. (98a)

True belief, however, is not inferior to knowledge in its ability to direct one’s actions, it is just not as reliable as when it is tethered by good reasons. It is interesting that true belief is set between wisdom and ignorance in the Symposium, and that later in the dialogue Diotima notes that Love, as the son of Poros and Penia, is both a lover of wisdom–a philosopher–and between wisdom and ignorance (203a-204a). This differs from the gods, who are already wise, and the ignorant, who do not seek wisdom. It is the distinct quality of the philosopher. To fall between the two extremes, then, is to have correct judgment, or to hold true beliefs: to be a philosopher.

A distinction needs to be made between judgement and belief, however, for correct judgement would lead one to hold true beliefs, but would not itself be a belief, it would be more along the lines of an intuition. The philosophers intuition, then, leads one closer to wisdom than the intuitions of the ignorant, but it is striking that good reasons are not required. If knowledge is more reliable than true opinions, but not necessary for correct judgement, what use does the philosopher have for knowledge in the first place? More to the point, the philosophers intuitions are learned by the practice of philosophy. It is only by learning from one’s mistakes and from one’s teachers that this kind of philosophic intuition is cultivated. If this is the case, then these experiences would constitute background reasons for one’s proceeding judgements, and without these experiences one’s intuitions would be no better than those of the ignorant. In the platonic framework, however, it would seem that simply having the correct state of mind would be enough.  If one seeks wisdom in the way of the philosopher, then, something magical happens2: one’s intuitions become more reliable.

  1. Note that there are two senses of ‘correct’. I am resting my analysis on the first sense, a success sense. A second interpretation is possible, where correct might be interpreted along the lines of ‘appropriate’ or ’suitable’. I do not know what is in the Greek offhand, but I will be looking further into this matter.
  2. It’s not literally magic, it is recollection. But this answer works only within the framework of a platonic metaphysics, and my thoughts are as of yet undeveloped regarding this specific area. More on this to come, as I work it out.

Tags: , , , ,