Plato (2): Crito and Phaedo

The full title of this post is “Platonic Reflections (2): Socrates’ Final Investigations as Reported in the Dialogs Crito and Phaedo.”  In Crito the argument regards the advisability of Socrates’ fleeing prison.  In Phaedo there are four arguments regarding the immortality of the human soul.

      One month after Socrates’ conviction, discussed in the Apology, Socrates is still alive in prison, because no executions may occur in Athens during an annual ritual voyage to and from the sacred island of Delos, celebrating Theseus’ ancient mission to kill the Minotaur on Crete.  Socrates’ old friend, Crito, stops by the prison with the news that the celebratory ship will soon be in port.  Of Socrates’ previous refusal to escape prison, Crito complains that he, Crito, stands to lose not only an irreplaceable friend but also his reputation as a “fixer,” whose money and connections can reliably circumvent official decrees.  Crito again entreats Socrates to escape.

      Upon reflection, Socrates finds that his actions should not be governed by the opinions of the many, who praise Crito for his connections; but of the few, who are expert in right and wrong (48a).  Socrates establishes that to do wrong, including injury in retaliation, is bad and dishonorable (49b-c).  The laws of the state are personified as complaining to Socrates and Crito that complicity in escape would tend “to destroy us, the laws, and the whole state as well” (50a-b). 

      The benefits of civilization, education, and tradition create obligations to obey the law.  Few Athenians have benefitted from this social contract as much as Socrates, who never left the city except on military expedition (52a-b).  The personified laws ask Socrates what good escaping will do.  If Socrates were to flee to a well-governed state like Megara or Thebes, then the indigenous patriots would view him with suspicion.  If Socrates were to flee to an ill-governed state with obtuse citizens, like Thessaly, then he would find no suitable philosophical interlocutors (53e).  Leaving Athens in a dishonorable way would incur the wrath of the personified laws of the poleis in his lifetime, and of the “other world” after his death.  All laws say in effect, “Do not take Crito’s advice, but follow ours” (54c-d).  Having no rational response to Socrates’ argument, Crito reluctantly acquiesces in Socrates’ decision not to escape.

      Turning now to Phaedo’s recapitulation, in the eponymous dialog, of the events and arguments of Socrates’ final day before execution, the interlocutors Cebes and Simmias object (62c-63a) to Socrates’ easy acceptance of his death penalty: If the philosopher’s service in life is directed by the gods, who are the best masters, why should a really wise man wish readily to accept death and to desert masters who are better than himself?  Socrates undertakes (63b) to provide a better defense of his philosophizing than he did at his trial.  He defines death as the release of the soul from the body (64c).  He argues (65b-69e) that the soul attains a true view of reality by reflection; that the presence of the body only blurs this view; that the “other world” will be adequately populated by good rulers and good friends (potential interlocutors); and, hence, that the true philosopher looks forward to death.  Cebes objects (69e-70b) that Socrates has only presupposed that the soul will survive death and arrive in the “other world” while retaining its “active force and intelligence.”  Cebes demands an argument for the immortality of the soul to support the thesis that the true philosopher looks forward to death.  Socrates then presents four such arguments, as follows.

      The Dynamic-Equilibrium Argument (70c-72e): It is proposed that for all things in some class of continuously varying things, each thing comes into being from a differing, “opposite” state.  Consider the case of exactly two differing size states, “large” and “small.”  Today, one might say: There are dynamic processes (with transition rates) connecting these two states in both directions, i.e., from small to large and from large to small.  In dynamic equilibrium, there are equilibrium populations (call them P1 and P2) of “smalls” and “larges” related to the transition rates (call them R12 and R21) by the equation P1*R12 = P2*R21.  If both transition rates are positive and one population is a positive integer, then we may infer that the other population, even if not observed, is a positive integer. 

      If life and death were “opposites” in the same sense as the two states “large” and “small”, then since both birth rate and death rate are positive, and since there is a positive number of souls in the present world, then there must be a positive number of souls in “the other world.”  The sum over worlds of all souls is constant; the soul is immortal.  Comment: Life and death do not seem to belong to a class of things that are continuously varying.  (Being “half alive” under some duress is a metaphor.)  If life and death and are not “opposites” in the same sense as “large” and “small”, then this argument seems to rely on an equivocation on the term “opposite.” 

      The Recollection Argument (72e-77a): Measured things may appear equal at one resolution and unequal at a higher resolution.  Nevertheless, we have a notion of absolute equality.  Seeing deficient examples of “equality” merely helps us to recollect the notion of equality itself.  Such recollection presupposes, in turn, prior knowledge of the equal itself.  Since this knowledge does not come from sense perception, we (i.e., our souls) must have acquired this knowledge before we started processing sense perception.  Hence, our souls must have existed before we were born.  Comment: This argument, by itself, does not completely address the immortality of the soul; because each person could have a “one-use soul” that pre-dates and animates his or her specific body and that then perishes.

      The Metaphysical Classification Argument (78b-84b): If there is a metaphysical classification of existent things into two groups (worlds) based on certain clearly recognizable features, then perhaps we can infer which of the two groups “would naturally suffer the fate of being dispersed” (78b), i.e. the fate of being mortal. The two groups in question are the composite and the incomposite (simple).  The composite refers to the perceptible things (in the “visible world”) that are ever changing; and that are natural, unintelligible, and mortal.  The simple refers to the invisible world (of the Forms) that allows only mental access; that is always the same; and that is divine, intelligible, and immortal (78c-79a, summarized in 80b).

      The soul is more like the things in the simple world, whereas the body is more like the things in the composite world  (79b-e).  Therefore, supposing a soul has been freed of bodily influence (“purified”) through abstemious philosophical training; that soul is most likely to wend its way, post death, to the simple, invisible “other world” (80d-82c) without fear of “scattering” into oblivion (84b).  Comment: One might say that the soul, being simple, has no decay by-products and is hence incapable of decay.

      The fourth argument in 105c-e does not mention the Forms explicitly, so we will refer to it as The Linguistic Argument (based on analysis of concepts): Soul must be present in a body to make it alive, i.e. whenever soul takes possession of a body, the soul always brings life with it.  Death, the soul leaving the body, is the opposite of life.  But while so leaving, the soul itself does not change and “will never admit the opposite of that which accompanies it.”  Hence, soul is immortal.  Comment: The idea seems to be that a soul may be dislodged from a body, and if so, the body dies; but the soul itself carries on its own existence. 

      After Socrates finishes his final argument for the immortality of the soul, Simmias claims to have no doubts about Socrates’ bravura performance.  Nevertheless, Simmias wisely hedges his bets by saying “all the same, the subject is so vast, and I have such a poor opinion of our weak human nature, that I can’t help still feeling some misgivings” (107a-b).  Comment: In the Christian tradition such misgivings are allayed by the resources of revelation in addition to those of rational inquiry.

Plato (1): The Apology, Compared

The full title of this post is “Platonic Reflections (1): Comparison of Some Behavior in the Apology and at Disney World.”

      Late last year there were media reports of some individuals surreptitiously scattering human cremation ashes on the grounds of Disney World.  This scattering might be interpreted as nominally spiritual: Look at how the bereaved honor their dear departed!  On the other hand, one possible post-modern interpretation of this scattering is ironic and materialistic: Look at how those insulted by death escape a day’s worth of ennui by mocking traditions of burial or cremation!  In contrast, we may turn to the Platonic dialogs Apology, Crito, and Phaedo for a philosophical examination of death that is anything but ironic and materialistic.  These dialogs, occurring just before and after Socrates’ execution, include a passionate investigation of the possibility and implications of a separate existence for disembodied rational souls after death.  The idea of a separation of body and soul at death would later become common in Christian thought.  This blog post will review the Apology; a future post will summarize Crito and Phaedo.       

      Before an Athenian court in 399 B.C. Meletus, Anytus, and Lycon (representing poets, politicians, and orators, respectively) accused the 70 year-old Socrates of corrupting the youth of Athens and believing in self-invented gods rather than state-approved gods.  Socrates responded that their well-honed arguments sounded convincing; on the other hand, scarcely a word of what they said was true.   

      Socrates repeatedly complained about the short time allowed for his trial, because it was necessary for him first of all to defend himself against a widespread Athenian background belief that would prejudice jury deliberations.  This belief is that Socrates is a wise man who can make the weaker argument defeat the stronger.  Socrates maintains that he is said to be wise only because of a mysterious utterance of the god (oracle) at Delphi, who had supposedly once said that there is no one wiser than Socrates.  (Some historians say that the oracle spoke gibberish that had to be interpreted by the Delphic priests; hence, Socrates’ uncertainty.)  Socrates had set about many years ago, as a sort of religious duty, to find the true meaning of the Delphic oracle on that past occasion.  It should be straightforward, Socrates thought, to find people purporting to be wise and to question them with the aim of establishing his own ignorance and inferiority.  Those examined, however, neither stood up well under Socrates’ interrogation nor took kindly to his efforts; hence, there arose a widespread campaign of slander against him.  Such calumny is irrelevant to the charges brought by Meletus, Anytus, and Lycon.  Socrates’ “interrogation of experts” had only established that real wisdom is the property of God and that the oracle had really been saying that human wisdom has little or no value.

      Socrates then returns to the specific charges of corrupting youth and believing in non-approved gods.  Socrates argues (in the text indexed by Stephanus numbers 25c-26a) that if he were corrupting youth, then he would be harmed by their future corrupt behavior.  But no one chooses to be harmed.  Hence, he is either not corrupting youth or else is doing so unintentionally, in which case the proper remedy is private reproof, not public trial.  Socrates believes that only the background hostility previously mentioned could move a jury to convict him.

      Starting at 28b, Socrates asks rhetorically if he feels no compunction in having lived a life of examining others and building up animus against himself.  Socrates’ rhetorical response is that if he never abandoned his military posts, ordained by Athenian commanders; then he would certainly never abandon the post that God ordained for him, that of leading the philosophical life.  Socrates does not believe that God permits a better man, fulfilling a religious duty, to be harmed by a worse, such as Meletus et al.  If the Athenians put Socrates to death, then they will not likely be able to find another gadfly that would arouse them to self-examination and improvement.  Being now wound up in a mode of robust oratory, Socrates says things unlikely to appeal to an Athenian jury: “No man on earth who conscientiously opposes either you or any other organized democracy, and flatly prevents a great many wrongs [during public service] … can possibly escape with his life.”

      Continuing at 36a, Socrates says that he is not surprised by the jury’s vote to convict him, but only by its closeness: A change of only thirty votes would have resulted in acquittal.  He doubts that Meletus’ argument convinced even 20% of the jury.  (Assuming equal, non-overlapping, 20% contributions from all three accusers, one might speculate that the approximate vote was 180 to convict and 120 to acquit.)  Facing the death penalty, Socrates is permitted to argue for an alternative punishment.  Socrates maintains that, since he spends his time persuading individual Athenians to focus on mental and moral wellbeing rather than practical advantages, the “sentence” should really be his full maintenance at state expense.  To accept fines and penalties that would preserve life but prevent him from pursuing philosophy would be disobedience to his divine calling.  In Socrates’ opinion, “life without this sort of examination is not worth living. 

      In his final address to the jury, beginning at 40a, Socrates says that he suspects that the death sentence just imposed is a blessing, i.e., that it would be a mistake to suppose that death is an evil.  As represented in the Apology, death is either annihilation (dreamless sleep) or “a migration of the soul from this place to another,” where one could meet the heroes of the past, beyond the travails and malfeasance of so-called human justice.  Socrates would find it especially edifying to meet others who had suffered unjust deaths, such as Palamedes (betrayed by Odysseus) and Ajax the Great (denied his just reward of Achilles’ armor).  Socrates concludes that nothing can harm a good man in life or death, and that his fortunes are not a matter of indifference to the gods.

      One notes that Plato presupposes the ancient Greek background belief that each living thing has a soul (psyche) of some appropriate grade.  In particular, humans have rational souls.  Plato also presupposes that the human soul’s “migration” (Apology, 40c) is sufficient to convey a complete person to the “other place,” where he or she can have experiences and interact with some divinities and other deceased humans (40e-41c).  Plato does not address, here, whether this interaction would be limited due to the absence of some souls from the “other world” due to “reincarnation duty.”  In other words the Apology, and all the other Platonic dialogs as well, are only analyzable within the ancient Greek intellectual tradition.

Based on the Apology, one infers that Socrates would have viewed the post-modern irony and detachment of human ash scattering at Disney World as inconsistent with, if not wholly repugnant to, the great seriousness with which he regarded his own divine calling, the tradition of rational inquiry.