Plato

by Roy Jackson

  9 Which one of the following films portrays the cave analogy?

  a The Croods

  b Minions

  c The Flintstones

  d The Cave

  10 From which book is the quote, ‘what is essential is invisible to the eye’ taken?

  a The Little Prince

  b The Happy Prince

  c The Prince of Thieves

  d Prince Caspian

  5

  Knowledge, opinion and ignorance

  In the previous chapter we looked at what Plato meant by his Theory of the Forms. The concept of the Forms, that the world we see with our senses is not the ‘real’ world, has obvious implications in terms of what we know, what we think we know, and what we are capable of knowing.

  To better understand what Plato meant by the Forms it helps to consider his views on knowledge. For Plato we can only have knowledge of something. This might sound obvious enough, but you can see how this would be affected by his Theory of the Forms for, if what we see around us are not real, then it follows that what we think we know is not really true knowledge. If that is the case, then how can we have knowledge of anything at all, and where does this knowledge come from? For Plato, the obvious answer is the Forms, but we need to examine how he came to this conclusion.

  Protagoras and relativism

  In one of Plato’s dialogues, Theaetetus, the question of what is knowledge is discussed. This is Plato’s epistemology. Theaetetus is a young mathematician who, when engaging in conversation with Socrates, is asked what knowledge is. This is how Theaetetus replies:

  ‘In my opinion anyone who knows something perceives that which he knows, and so, as it seems at the moment, knowledge is nothing other than perception.’

  Plato, Theaetetus

  Here, Theaetetus is presenting the common view most famously presented by the Sophist Protagoras: ‘Man is the measure of all things.’ You know something when you perceive it; that is, taste, touch, hear, smell or see it. However, Socrates is quick to point out that our sense-perceptions can be a very subjective matter:

  • For example, someone who comes in from the cold will put his hand in a bucket of cold water and it will feel warm to him. Or when you drink some sweet wine when you are ill it tastes bitter. How can the same object have a different quality? Which understanding of the object is the right one?

  • Why should it only be man who is the measure of all things? If the human being’s perceptions were real for him, it would logically follow that a pig, a baboon or even a tadpole’s perceptions are also real for it! This is actually a very perceptive point and is a concern that has been raised by more recent philosophers. The German philosopher Immanuel Kant (1724–1804) thought it somewhat arrogant of Man for him to think that what he perceived is actually there. Rather, we can only see things through ‘human spectacles’. We see things in three dimensions (four dimensions if you want to include time as the fourth), but who is to say that there are not higher dimensions?

  • Perhaps most importantly it can lead to relativism (see Chapter 2), for if we are to say that each human being is to be the judge of what is and what is not, then it is not possible to make judgements of the views of others. If one person were to say that an apple is green and another that it is red then there can be no definitive judgement one way or the other. On a more personal level, Socrates was having a go at Protagoras, who was a teacher. Surely, if there are no absolute standards, a teacher cannot teach right and wrong?

  Theaetetus’ response to Socrates’ latter criticism is by talking of perceptions as being useful, rather than true or not. For example, we might not be able to say for certain whether the traffic light shows red or green, but it is worthwhile for the teacher to correct someone who claims the light is green when the teacher and pretty much everyone else sees it as red.

  This may seem an unsatisfactory response, however, for in this case knowledge seems to be based on nothing more than what the majority may perceive. However, it comes down to what the purpose of the teacher is: to promote harmony, order and social standards in the same way the doctor’s role is to promote good health, not that good health is an objective thing that we must therefore pursue. The fact is that if we disagreed on whether a traffic light showed red or green and then acted upon our own individual and somewhat rare perception, then it would not be long before we are involved in a traffic accident.

  However, Plato rightly points out that what is ‘useful’ or ‘worthwhile’ can hardly be synonymous with what is morally right. If a state decides it is ‘useful’ to condemn innocent people to death this does not make it right. Ultimately, Plato’s concern is that we should not confuse knowledge with perception, or that all knowledge simply comes down to a person’s opinion, even if this is the majority opinion.

  Heraclitus and change

  ‘In his [Heraclitus’s] proximity I feel altogether warmer and better than anywhere else. The affirmation of passing away and destroying, which is the decisive feature of a Dionysian philosophy; saying Yes to opposition and war; becoming, along with a radical repudiation of the very concept of being – all this is clearly more closely related to me than anything else thought to date.’

  Friedrich Nietzsche, ‘Why I Write Such Good Books’, On the Genealogy of Morals, Ecce Homo, tr. Walter Kaufmann, p. 273

  Plato, as well as Socrates, was familiar with the writings of the philosopher Heraclitus (see Chapter 1). For Heraclitus, the world is in a constant state of change and flux. All objects are in the process of becoming something else. For example, the chair you may be sitting on is ageing and wearing down, even rocks are being eroded by the wind and rain. Human beings, too, are changing all the time. Cells, such as skin cells and blood cells, are dying all the time (although the notion that all your cells are replaced every seven years is a myth; some brain cells, for example, live for as long as you do), which is why your skin flakes off, your hair falls out and your nails grow. When you look at a picture of yourself as a baby you may struggle to see much resemblance.

  Heraclitus viewed the world as a vast battlefield of conflicting, opposing forces, all governed by a natural law that controls this strife between the elements. This natural law he called Logos, which can be variously translated as ‘word’, ‘truth’, ‘reality’, ‘reason’ or ‘God’. However, for Heraclitus, this was not some metaphysical substance, but is contained within nature itself and is more akin to DNA than a god.

  ‘The sea – he [Heraclitus] says – water most pure and most impure; for fishes drinkable and healthy; for humans undrinkable and deadly.’

  Hippolytus of Rome in Refutation Of All Heresies, 9.10.2–5

  This view of the world, however, was anathema to Plato. Plato adopted a view not dissimilar to an earlier Greek philosopher, Parmenides (see Chapter 1), who believed that the Logos is One, and is therefore immutable. If the world is in a state of constant change, then there can be nothing that is eternal and immutable and, of course, there can be no ultimate truths. Plato believed that, although the world might appear in a state of change and multiplicity, it is possible to perceive an underlying form and singularity.

  Plato’s main criticism of Heraclitus is that if it is the case that things are constantly in motion, then it is impossible to define a thing. For example, ‘white’ cannot be called ‘white’ if it is actually becoming something else (not-white). How then are we able to call something ‘white’? In fact, if you wish to call something ‘black’ then it is just as correct as calling it ‘white’; neither one of you can be wrong or right. Every answer, on whatever subject, is correct. This would also be a criticism of Protagoras for, if all of our knowledge comes from perception, then all of our knowledge must be correct, no matter what it is.

  Heraclitus the intolerant

  Heraclitus was not one to tolerate other people. One quote attributed to him is: ‘Men are unable to understand [my teaching] when they hear it for the first time as before they have heard it at all…and know not what they
are doing when awake, even as they forget what they do in sleep.’

  For Plato, therefore, it was unacceptable that our understanding of the world, of our views on good or bad and so on, is merely relative (according to Theaetetus) or continually changing (according to Heraclitus).

  The philosopher defined

  ‘I imagine,’ I said, ‘that while those who love to listen, or to see sights, embrace beautiful sounds, colours, figures, and everything that is crafted out of these, their minds are incapable of seeing, let alone embracing, the nature of the beautiful itself.’

  Plato, Republic, 476b

  In Republic, Plato provides a definition of the philosopher. The philosopher is someone who loves wisdom. In fact, this is the very translation of the phrase philo-sophos: ‘wisdom-lovers’. The character of Socrates makes it clear that these must be distinguished from philo-theamones: ‘sight-lovers’. Sight-lovers are those who go from one play, book, exhibition, etc. to another, taking it all in and calling this knowledge. You might consider the modern analogy of the snap-happy tourist, taking pictures of great monuments without really appreciating what she sees. The philosopher, therefore, is not superficially acquiring facts and figures, but is reflecting on the very nature of things.

  Importantly, Plato wishes to make a distinction between when you say you know something, and you believe something. If I say that I know that the Earth is round, this is different from saying I believe that the Earth is round. Following on from Parmenides, Plato believed that you can only have knowledge of what is. If I know that the Earth is round, then it really is round. However, opinion (or belief) can be of what is and what is not. If I say that I believe the Earth is round (what is), it could really be flat (what is not).

  Plato was concerned that people can have completely opposite views on the same thing. For example, someone might judge a painting as beautiful, whereas someone else would judge it as ugly. Another example was with morality; someone might consider a certain act as just, whereas someone else would consider it unjust. In this sense, it is belief. We, the ‘sight-lovers’, are part of the ‘multiplicity’ of things, of things that are and are not (the painting both is beautiful and isn’t beautiful). The philosopher, however, is only concerned with what is eternal and immutable.

  It also follows that if you perceive what is not, then you are in a state of ignorance. You may have a belief that something is not beautiful when in actual fact it is.

  Objects of knowledge = the forms = what is

  Objects of opinion = the ‘many things’ that partake in the forms = what is and is not

  Objects of ignorance = nothing = what is not

  The roots of knowledge

  Things that can be qualified do not count as knowledge. For example, Helen of Troy is beautiful, but not unqualifiedly beautiful (she may be ugly when old or perhaps it is possible that not everyone considers her beautiful; therefore she ‘is and is not’ beautiful), or giving back what you owe is not unqualifiedly just (for example, giving back a weapon to someone who is mentally ill). What is knowledge is what cannot be qualified. It is not subject to time, place or the perspective of the individual. This is why Plato, through Socrates, would also get his interlopers to qualify their statements in the hope that, eventually, a definition could be reached in which it could no longer be qualified. Only then have you achieved what is true.

  The French philosopher René Descartes (1596–1650) believed that if we are to discover what we can know for sure we must begin by sceptically doubting our supposed knowledge of all things. We must reject our belief in a wholesale manner and start all over again. Plato, however, asserts that our beliefs can help our understanding, not hinder them. We must look to our beliefs first, rather than be sceptical about them.

  Cartesian Doubt

  In the history of philosophy, perhaps the most important thinker on the topic of knowledge is René Descartes. Like Plato, he was a rationalist, and argued that our senses provide us with a limited understanding of what is really true. In his work Meditations, Descartes engaged in methodical doubt; subsequently named Cartesian Doubt after him. In the first chapter of this work – the First Meditation – Descartes shows that the senses cannot be trusted through his ‘three waves of doubt’: first, he notes that his senses are sometimes mistaken, for example objects from a distance turn out to be something other than what one thought they were when you get up close; second, Descartes – like all of us – can have very lucid dreams and so questions how can he be sure that he is not sleeping now; and, third, he presents the possibility that some ‘evil demon’ is making him believe that he has a physical body and that there is a material world around him, but it could all be the creation of this demon and not really exist at all.

  Such radical doubt could lead one to solipsism: the belief that we cannot know whether other minds or an external world really exist. Descartes then, in his further chapters, builds up the foundations of knowledge, beginning with the first thing he can be certain of: ‘I am thinking, therefore I exist.’ Starting from this foundation and through the power of reason alone, Descartes argues that we can know about the world. Descartes was a mathematician and, like Plato, he also stresses the importance of the mathematical model in building up our knowledge.

  Also, like Plato, Descartes was a dualist. He believed there are only two existent things: a thinking substance (the soul) and extended substance (matter).

  What does it mean to know?

  What the Ancient Greeks understood by knowledge differs somewhat from our modern-day understanding. Today, when we say that someone knows something it is unlikely that you will equate this with someone intuitively grasping the Forms, rather it is much more of a proactive intellectual engagement. Plato often refers to medical doctors knowing how to heal, but a doctor has to train for many years, to study many books and engage practically in medicine before you would say that a doctor ‘knows’ how to heal someone.

  In modern epistemology, knowledge is commonly classified into three types: 1) knowing that; 2) knowing of; 3) knowing how.

  1 Knowing that. Also referred to as ‘propositional knowledge’. For example:

  • I know that 2 plus 2 equals 4

  • I know that the Earth revolves around the Sun

  • I know that Washington, D.C. is the capital city of the United States

  What these statements have in common is that they are all facts about the world. You can look them up in Wikipedia, and they would be the right answers in a quiz show. They are called ‘propositional knowledge’ because a proposition asserts something about the world, as opposed to, say, a greeting such as ‘hello’ or a command such as ‘be quiet’.

  2 Knowing of. For example:

  • I know Charles well

  • I know that shop

  • I know Amsterdam

  This is often also referred to as ‘knowledge by acquaintance’ because you know something by being acquainted with it or with a person. You do not acquire this knowledge by studying for it or by training, but rather through familiarity.

  3 Knowing how. For example:

  • I know how to make lasagne

  • I know how to tie a reef knot

  • I know how to ride a bike

  4 In quiz shows such as University Challenge you would not expect the contestants to be asked to ride a bike because it is propositional knowledge they are tested on. Rather, this kind of knowledge implies the acquisition of a skill or an ability.

  It should be stated that these distinctions can overlap, and there is much debate in epistemology as to whether all three kinds of knowledge can be subsumed under one, but the point is that we nonetheless can know things in different ways and also what is understood by knowledge has not remained static over time. This three-fold distinction did not exist in Plato’s time, and in his dialogues he portrays Socrates as a philosopher who was fascinated by how, for example, a person ‘knows’ how to make a chair or, more specifically, how to make a good chair. It was kno
wledge as a ‘craft’ that appealed to Socrates and, in a way, seems to encompass all three distinction above: a carpenter no doubt has to know certain facts about carpentry, he needs to be acquainted with objects (different kinds of wood, tools, etc.), and he certainly needs to know how to make a chair through trial and error.

  The Greek word for craft or skill is techne, as opposed to episteme (knowledge) which may suggest a distinction, but they do tend to overlap in Plato’s dialogues. In considering crafts such as carpentry, farming, sculpture, pottery, weaving, etc., what Socrates notes is what they all have in common: ergon. This can be translated roughly as ‘function’; it is what something does or what it is intended for, and it is this idea of knowledge as having a function, as having a set purpose, that Plato also regards as intrinsic to the craft of political statesmanship. We will examine Plato’s political philosophy in Chapter 7 but, for now, it is worth keeping in mind that Plato saw ruling a state as a craft like any other, and has, or should have, a goal in mind.

  All crafts, including politics, are linked with knowledge in this sense. Coming back to our carpenter, if he is highly skilled (that is, he has excellent knowledge) then he will produce an excellent chair. What is interesting for Socrates is how we know a chair is good or not and the fact that we can consider ways to improve upon a chair that is not so good. In addition, this skill is something that can be passed from one generation to the next while seemingly independent of the practitioner. In a sense, good carpentry is ‘out there’ to be discovered and is something by which we measure our own skills. There is, then, a ‘Form’ for a chair.