Protagoras and Meno

Home > Nonfiction > Protagoras and Meno > Page 15
Protagoras and Meno Page 15

by Plato


  SLAVE: Yes, Socrates. Absolutely.

  SOCRATES: What do you think, Meno? Did he say anything in his answers that wasn't his own opinion?

  MENO: No; they were all his own opinions.35 [c]

  SOCRATES: And we're quite sure he didn't have knowledge – we were saying so a moment ago.

  MENO: That's right.

  SOCRATES: But these opinions were certainly there, inside him?

  Weren't they?

  MENO: Yes.

  SOCRATES: So in other words, inside someone with no knowledge

  (of whatever it might be) there are correct opinions about the things he doesn't know?

  MENO: So it seems.

  SOCRATES: And although right now he'll find these opinions are hazy and dreamlike (because they've only just been stirred up), if you ask him the same questions over and over again, and in lots of different ways, you can be sure that he'd end [d] up knowing about these things as precisely as anyone.

  MENO: Yes, he probably would.

  SOCRATES: So that means he'll have knowledge without anyone having taught him, just through being asked questions – by retrieving the knowledge from within himself?

  MENO: Yes.

  SOCRATES: And isn't retrieving knowledge from inside yourself the same thing as remembering?

  MENO: Absolutely.

  SOCRATES: So this knowledge that he has within him – presumably he either acquired it at some point, or he's had it forever?36

  MENO: That's right.

  SOCRATES: So if he's had it forever, then he's also been, forever, a being with knowledge; and if he acquired it at some point, it certainly can't have been during the life he's living now.37 [e] Or has someone taught him geometry? Because he'll do exactly the same thing with any question in geometry, and with every single other subject as well. So is there someone who's taught him – taught him everything? You should know, especially if he was born and raised in your own home.

  MENO: I know for a fact that no one's ever taught him.

  SOCRATES: But he does have these opinions, doesn't he?

  MENO: It seems he must, Socrates.

  SOCRATES: And if he didn't acquire them in his present life, [86 a] doesn't that prove that he had them – had already learned them – in some other period of time?

  MENO: Apparently.

  SOCRATES: And that other time must be the time when he wasn't human?

  MENO: Yes.

  SOCRATES: So if he's had these correct opinions somewhere inside him, for all the time that he's been a human being and for all the time that he hasn't – opinions that become bits of knowledge when they're roused by questioning – won't that mean there's never been a time when his soul hadn't already learned them? Because, obviously, it's for the whole of time that he either has or hasn't been in human form.

  MENO: Yes, that seems to follow.

  SOCRATES: So if the truth about how things really are has been [b] in our soul forever, then the soul must be ever-living – and that means that if there's something you happen not to know right now, or rather, happen not to have remembered yet, you mustn't be afraid to try and find out about it – that is, to remember it.

  MENO: Socrates… in a funny kind of way… I like what you're saying.

  SOCRATES: I like what I'm saying, too, Meno. And I wouldn't absolutely insist on all the other details if I was defending my claim; but the idea that we'd be better people – more energetic, less lazy – if we felt that it was our duty to try to find out whatever we don't know, instead of thinking that discovering what we don't know isn't even possible, and that [c] there's no point in even trying – that's a claim I will keep fighting for, as best I can, in everything I say and do.

  MENO: And I certainly think you're right about that, too, Socrates.

  SOCRATES: Well, since we're agreeing that you've always got to try and find out what you don't know, why don't the two of us have another go at trying to find out what being good is?

  MENO: Sure… although, mind you, Socrates, what I'd really like to look into, and hear more about, is the question I asked back at the start – whether what we're dealing with is something that can be taught, or if being good just comes to [d] people naturally… or how exactly?

  SOCRATES: If only I could control you, Meno, instead of only controlling myself! If I could, we wouldn't look into whether being good is or isn't teachable until we'd first tried to find out what it is. As it is, although you don't even try to control yourself – because you prefer to be ‘free’38 – you certainly try to control me, and you're very good at it. So I'll grant you your wish. Do I have any choice? So it seems we have to [e] consider what sort of thing it is, even though we don't yet know what it is. But at least relax your power over me just a little and grant me this: let's ask the question – the question of whether it's teachable – on a hypothesis.39 And when I say ‘on a hypothesis’, I mean the way mathematicians often look at problems, when someone asks them a question… about an area, for example… like ‘Can this area here be inscribed, [87 a] as a triangle, in this circle?’ A mathematician might say, #8216;Well, I don't know yet; maybe it can, maybe it can't, but I think I have a hypothesis that will help with the problem, and it goes like this:

  IF the area is such that, when you stretch it out along its given

  line, it falls short by an area matching the area stretched along

  the line, then I take that to give us one outcome… and we get

  another outcome, if that can't be done to it.40

  So, on that hypothesis, I'm prepared to tell you the outcome [b] – whether or not it's possible for the area to be inscribed in the circle.’ We can do the same thing with our question about being good: since we don't know what it is, or what sort of thing it is, let's first find a hypothesis and then use that to look at whether or not it's teachable. Here's what we say:

  Being good (which is a feature of the soul) will turn out to be teachable, or unteachable, IF – what? What sort of feature of the soul would it have to be?

  Here's a place to start, then: will it or won't it be teachable [c] …(or remember-able, as we were saying just now; but let's say it doesn't matter which word we use)… will it be teachable if it's something different from knowledge? Presumably not. Isn't it obvious to anyone that the only thing you can be taught is knowledge?

  MENO: Yes, that's right.

  SOCRATES: But if being good is a kind of knowledge, obviously that would mean it is teachable?

  MENO: Of course.

  SOCRATES: So, that's quickly dealt with, then. We're sure that

  IF it's a kind of knowledge, then it can be taught; and if it isn't

  then it can't?

  MENO: Absolutely.

  SOCRATES: So it looks like the next thing we need to think about is whether being good is a kind of knowledge or something different from knowledge. Right?

  MENO: Right. There's our next question. [d]

  SOCRATES: Well, how about this – are we saying that being a good person is something that's good? Can we treat that as a stable ‘hypothesis’: that it's a good thing?41

  MENO: Absolutely.

  SOCRATES: Right; so if there's anything that's good in life that has nothing whatsoever to do with knowledge, then being good could well turn out not to be any kind of knowledge. But if there's nothing good in life that isn't in the general sphere of knowledge, 42 then a hunch that it's some kind of knowledge would be a pretty good hunch?

  MENO: Yes, that's right.

  SOCRATES: Now obviously, being good is what makes us good people.

  MENO: Yes. [e]

  SOCRATES: And if we are good, we do good.43 Because all good things do us good, don't they?44

  MENO: Yes.

  SOCRATES: Which means that being good people must also do us good.

  MENO: It must… from what we've agreed.

  SOCRATES: Then here's our next question: What kinds of things do us good in life? Let's run through them, one by one. There's being healthy, being strong, bei
ng beautiful and – of course – being rich. We say that things like that do us good in life, don't we?

  MENO: Yes, we do. [88 a]

  SOCRATES: But we also say that the very same things sometimes do us harm – or don't you think so?

  MENO: No, I agree.

  SOCRATES: Well, ask yourself this, then: When do they do us good, and when do they do us harm? In each case, what has to be guiding us? Don't those things only do us any good when we're guided by a sense of the right way to use them –

  otherwise they do us harm?

  MENO: Yes, exactly.

  SOCRATES: All right then, now let's look at features of the soul.45 You're familiar with things like self-control, respect for what's right, bravery, academic ability, a good memory, generosity – all those sorts of things?

  [b] MENO: Yes.

  SOCRATES: Now think about the ones you take to be something other than knowledge – can't they sometimes do us harm as well as doing us good? Take bravery, for example, if we treat bravery as being a sort of fearlessness rather than a kind of wisdom: 46 isn't it the case that when you're fearless without any sense, you get hurt, and when you're fearless with sense, it does you good?

  MENO: Yes.

  SOCRATES: And isn't it the same with self-control or academic ability? Surely learning things, or training yourself, only does you any good when it has some sense to it? If there's no sense in it, then it does you harm?

  MENO: Yes, that's absolutely right.

  [c] SOCRATES: So, in general, all the strivings and perseverings of our soul only result in our having a good life47 if wisdom is showing us the way; but when foolishness is guiding us, they have the opposite effect.

  MENO: It looks that way.

  SOCRATES: So if being good is one of the features of the soul, and one that necessarily does us good, then it must be a form of wisdom – seeing as all these other aspects of the soul don't, in and of themselves, 48 do us either any good or harm; they're [d] only able to do us any good or do us harm when they're combined with wisdom or foolishness. So by that argument, if being good is definitely something that does us good, it's got to be some form of wisdom?

  MENO: Yes, I think that's right.

  SOCRATES: And what about all those other things – being rich and so on – that we said just now are sometimes good for us and sometimes harmful? Shall we say that, just as wisdom guides the rest of the soul and makes sure all aspects of the soul are doing us good (while foolishness makes them harmful), in the same way, the soul also has to use those external things in the right way and guide us in our use of [e] them, if they're to do us any good; but without the right sort of guidance from the soul the do us harm?

  MENO: Absolutely.

  SOCRATES: And it's a soul with wisdom that gives the right sort of guidance, and an unwise soul that makes mistakes, and guides us badly?

  MENO: That's right.

  SOCRATES: So that means we can make this overall claim: that the value of everything else in life hangs on the soul, and the value of every aspect of the soul itself hangs on wisdom. So [89 a] by that argument, it seems that wisdom is the thing that does us good in life. And being good people, we say, does us good?

  MENO: Absolutely.

  SOCRATES: So in other words, we must think that being good is a kind of wisdom, either entirely or partly?49

  MENO: Yes, Socrates; what we're saying sounds pretty good to me.

  SOCRATES: So if that's the case, it can't be that good people are naturally good.50

  MENO: No, they can't be.

  SOCRATES: In any case, there's another problem with that: if [b] the good did become good naturally, surely there'd be people whose job was to spot the children who were born to be good, and once they'd picked them out for us, we'd be taking them away for safe-keeping, on the acropolis, and putting an official seal on the door – just as we do with public gold, 51 only they'd be far more precious – to make sure nobody corrupted them, so that when they came of age they could be useful to their cities.

  MENO: Yes, we probably would, Socrates.

  SOCRATES: So if good people aren't made good by their nature, [c] is it learning that makes them good?

  MENO: Yes, I'm now convinced that must be the answer. And besides, Socrates, going on our hypothesis, if we're sure being good is a form of knowledge, then it's obviously teachable.

  SOCRATES: And maybe that's right. But then again… we may have been wrong to settle on it being knowledge.

  MENO: What? But we thought that sounded right just a moment ago!

  SOCRATES: Yes, but I'm afraid it's no good if it only seemed to be right a moment ago; it's also got to seem right now, and to keep on seeming right – otherwise it's worthless.

  [d] MENO: So why the doubts about it being a form of knowledge? What's bothering you?

  SOCRATES: Well, I'll tell you, Meno. You see, the claim that, if it's knowledge then it's teachable, I think is fine. I'm not taking that back. But as for it being knowledge – see if you think I'm not right to have my doubts. Tell me this: if something can be taught – not just how to be a good man but whatever – wouldn't there have to be people teaching it and people learning it?

  MENO: Yes, I suppose so.

  [e] SOCRATES: And conversely, if there's something that nobody teaches and nobody learns, then it's a pretty safe bet that it's something that can't be taught?

  MENO: That's right. So… don't you think there are people who can teach us how to be good?

  [Anytus sits down beside Meno, listening to the conversation.

  Socrates notices him.]

  SOCRATES: Well, all I can say is, I've often asked that question: Are there people out there who can teach us about being good? And for the life of me, I can't find the answer. And yet I'm always getting people to help me figure it out… especially anyone I think is a real expert on the subject… speaking of which, Meno, Anytus52 here has joined us at just the right moment! Let's ask him to help us with our question. He'd be an ideal person to ask: for a start, he's the son of Anthemion [90 a] – a wealthy and intelligent man; and Anthemion didn't get rich by any fluke, or from someone handing him his money on a plate (not like Ismenias the Theban, who just recently took Polycrates' bribe53); no, he made his wealth by his own brains and diligence54; and generally he's known for not being an uppity sort of citizen, or pompous and tiresome, but as a modest and unpretentious man. What's more, he did a very fine job of bringing up and educating Anytus here, in the [b] view of the great Athenian public55 – at any rate, they keep electing him to their highest public offices. So these are exactly the kind of men to help us figure out if there are people who can give lessons on being good – and if so, who?

  [He turns to Anytus.] So, Anytus, I wonder if you could help us – myself and Meno here, your guest. We're trying to find out who the teachers are in this particular field. Now look at it like this: suppose we wanted Meno here to become a good doctor. Who would we send him to, to teach him? [c] Doctors, presumably?

  ANYTUS: Of course.

  SOCRATES: And what if we wanted him to become good at making shoes? We'd send him off to the shoemakers, wouldn't we?

  ANYTUS: Yes.

  SOCRATES: And it's the same with everything else?

  ANYTUS: Yes, of course.

  SOCRATES: So tell me this (we'll use the same example): we're saying that if we wanted Meno here to become a doctor, we'd be doing the right thing by sending him to study with doctors. In saying that, don't we just mean that the sensible thing to do is to send him to the people who claim to have [d] the relevant skill (rather than people who don't), and who charge a fee on exactly that basis, and publicly state that they can teach it to anyone who wants to come along and learn? That's what we have in mind when we say they're the right people to send him to?

  ANYTUS: Yes.

  SOCRATES: Right. And the same goes for flute-playing and the [e] rest? It'd be really brainless, if we wanted someone to become a good flute player, to refuse to send him to the people who actuall
y offer to teach the flute, and make a living out of it, and instead go and annoy some other bunch of people by expecting them to teach him* even though they make no pretence of being able to teach the thing we expect him to learn from them, and have never had a single student! Don't you think that would be pretty silly?

  ANYTUS: Well, of course! You'd have to be a total idiot.

  SOCRATES: I quite agree. So listen, then – we've got an opportunity [91a] here to put our heads together and try to decide what to do about young Meno, our visitor. The thing is, Anytus, Meno's been telling me all morning that what he wants is that particular kind of knowledge, that particular way of being good, that makes people run their households and their cities well, and look after their parents, and know how to welcome their guests (fellow-citizens or strangers) and help them on their way, as a good man should. So if he wants to [b] be good in that sense, the question is: who should we send him to? Or is it obvious, going by what we've just said? Presumably we should send him to the people who actually offer lessons on being good, and advertise their courses as open to any Greek who wants to learn, and charge a fixed rate for the service?

  ANYTUS: And who're they, Socrates? Who do you mean?

  SOCRATES: Surely you must know who I mean – I'm talking about the people they call ‘sophists’.

  [c] ANYTUS: Holy Herakles! What a shocking suggestion, 56 Socrates! I hope no relative or friend of mine, Athenian or foreigner, is ever crazy enough to go to those people and submit to their abuse! Because that's all those people are – blatant abusers and corrupters of anyone who associates with them!

  SOCRATES: Really, Anytus? So, that makes them unique among people who claim expertise at providing services: so utterly unlike all the rest that instead of improving what you place in their care (like the others), they do the opposite – they mess it up! And then they have the nerve to expect to be [d] paid? I really don't know if I can believe you. I know of a single man, Protagoras, who made more money as a sophist than Phidias57 – who created such wonderfully beautiful works of art – and any ten other sculptors put together. So what you're suggesting is miraculous. I mean, if people who mended old shoes or patched up old cloaks gave them back in a worse state than they got them, they wouldn't [e] get away with it for thirty days. They'd soon find themselves starving. So how on earth can Protagoras have fooled the whole of Greece and got away with corrupting his pupils – sending them away more depraved than when he took them on – for more than forty years? That's right, I think he was around seventy years old when he died, and he practised his profession for forty years, and throughout that time, and to this day, he's carried on being very highly regarded. And there've been a whole lot of other sophists besides Protagoras; some before his time and some who are [92 a] still alive today. Now, if what you're saying is true, what are we supposed to think? That they're deliberately duping and abusing young people? Or that even they don't realize what they're doing? Is it plausible they could be that crazy – these men who some people say are the finest minds of their day?

 

‹ Prev