Plato

by Roy Jackson

  The setting

  It is difficult, from anachronistic references made in Gorgias, to determine when exactly this dialogue is meant to have taken place, but it must certainly have been when Gorgias was in Athens (i.e. from 427 BC) and most scholarship leans towards this being near the end of Socrates’ life as his philosophical bearing is very mature here.

  The dialogue begins with Socrates bringing in one of his students, Chaerephon, to see Gorgias at the home of Callicles. Aside from these characters, of which Chaerephon has little to contribute, is another student of Gorgias by the name of Polus. Socrates wishes to meet Gorgias to find out for himself what these rhetorical skills are that he has such a reputation for.

  It begins with Socrates urging his young student Chaerephon to ask Gorgias who he is. At first Chaerephon is somewhat confused by what Socrates means by this, as the reader – also in this sense a student of Socrates – may be too, but it is a wonderful dramatic moment when Chaerephon seems to recall Socrates’ teaching and almost ‘become Socratic’ in his questioning. It is a fascinating, though so very brief, example of the student truly learning from the teacher. The question ‘who are you?’ is by no means trivial, either, certainly not in its philosophical sense for which it is meant here, for it gets at that very thorny and key philosophical question concerning identity; your place in the world and your understanding of who you are. It also immediately makes the reader think about how it is actually very difficult to properly describe or define what it means to have an identity, and this, in turn, brings us to the difficulties with language and communication, which is central to this particular dialogue.

  When at first they encounter Gorgias he is exhausted from recently taking part in one of those public exhibitions of rhetorical skills, and so it is Polus who initially puts himself forward to converse with Socrates.

  Polus, younger than Gorgias, is a historical figure who was also from Sicily. Little else is known about him, however, other than he authored a work on oratory. His quickness (and, interestingly, his name in English translates as ‘colt’) to step in for the great Gorgias in the belief that he can be just as expert is quickly exposed by Socrates, for Polus proves to be no match for the philosopher and, indeed, Socrates has little respect for the young, uncritical and impetuous Polus in contrast to the high regard he shows for Gorgias. This is a common feature in Socratic dialogues; those who are quick to put forward their opinions and to confront Socrates are usually those who are less able to support their views. They are quick to talk, but slow to think.

  ‘… when Chaerephon asks you what art Gorgias is master of, you embark on a panegyric of his art as if someone were attacking it, without, however, saying what it is.’

  Plato, Gorgias, 448

  The above quote by Socrates, which is addressed to Polus, reveals how Polus differs from Chaerephon. Whereas the latter engages in Socratic questioning, the former merely responds with a panegyric, a speech in praise of oratory of the kind that resembles, though is much poorer than, those of his older tutor Gorgias with his encomiums.

  PHASE ONE: SOCRATES–GORGIAS (449–61)

  It is at this point that Socrates and Gorgias take over the conversation, with Socrates asking Gorgias what it is that he actually does, what is his ‘art’, to which Gorgias replies he is an orator. In typical Socratic fashion, our philosopher wants Gorgias to define oratory and also gets Gorgias to agree to engage in dialectic rather than simply produce speeches like Polus did. Gorgias obliges and provides his definition as the ability to persuade:

  ‘I mean the ability to convince by means of speech a jury in a court of justice, members of the Council in their Chamber, voters at a meeting of the Assembly, and any other gathering of citizens whatever it may be. By the exercise of this ability you will have the doctor and the trainer as your slaves, and your man of business will turn out to be making money not for himself but for another; for you, in fact, who have the ability to speak and convince the masses.’

  Plato, Gorgias, 452

  This is important for Socrates, and for us, to understand because what Gorgias is saying is that the sole purpose, the ultimate end, of oratory (or rhetoric) is to persuade someone that something is or is not the case, regardless of whether in fact it is or is not actually the case. Socrates wants to push this point further, for whereas for other ‘arts’ you would go to an expert – that is someone who has knowledge of a particular subject – it seems unclear to Socrates what it is that oratory gives. If you want a house built you go to a builder for advice, if you want to win a battle then you seek out a general for guidance, but what ‘knowledge’ does the orator possess, what does he teach and what is it good for?

  By way of example, Gorgias says that he has a brother who is a medical doctor, and Gorgias has on occasion gone with his brother and other doctors to visit sick patients who have been extremely unwilling to undergo treatment or surgery, which should not be surprising to us given the rather unpleasant and primitive state of medical science at that time. Gorgias, however, through his power of oratory alone is able to achieve what the doctors cannot in persuading these patients to undergo the painful treatment (and, no doubt, Gorgias gets a cut of the fees for his trouble!).

  This wonderful, yet simple, illustration clearly brings out the difference between a skill, or art, such as medicine and that of oratory. The former is clearly teleological; it has a specific purpose (to heal) and it requires a great deal of knowledge of the working body if one intends to be a good doctor. It is for these reasons Plato regularly gives us the example of medicine in his dialogues. Oratory, on the other hand, has no one specific purpose, other than to persuade, and does not require knowledge of a specific subject, other than how to persuade. The rhetorician, therefore, provides a service to others who have specific knowledge, whether they be doctors, businessmen or politicians.

  Importantly, Gorgias stresses that the orator is skilled in persuading for either side, and this is where the danger lies, for, as oratory is merely persuading, Gorgias could just as easily persuade the patient to not undergo treatment, even if it is actually in the best interests of the patient’s health to have treatment. Therefore, rhetoric has nothing to do with ‘good’ or ‘bad’, and in this respect, the dialogue Gorgias is not so much concerned with the topic of rhetoric, but rather with ethics and epistemology. In terms of knowledge, Socrates is concerned here that rhetoric is nothing more than the ignorant persuading the ignorant, for the orator – who is ignorant of medicine – would not be able to persuade a team of doctors that some treatment or other is good or bad, he would only be able to persuade those who are themselves ignorant of medicine. Ethically speaking, this is very dangerous because the art that oratory possesses is to ‘pander’ to the ignorant, to produce gratification and pleasure and, therefore, can be compared with cookery, which Socrates regards as more than a ‘knack’ than an actual skill and whose purpose is primarily to gratify the consumer than to provide any ethical instruction.

  In actual fact, although the implications of rhetoric are that you can persuade an ignorant man to do something, regardless of whether it is right or wrong, Gorgias himself insists that he would persuade someone to do what is righteous, which perhaps says more about Gorgias – who, despite his sophistry, Socrates has a high regard for – than it does of his profession. It is rather like a lawyer stating that, so far as he is concerned, he would only defend someone he believes to be innocent, which may be a comment on the moral status of that lawyer than the profession as a whole or the fact that there exist more unscrupulous legal experts. Gorgias, however, is eager to point out that he cannot be held responsible for what his students do with the skill or rhetoric they have acquired, and the example in the Gorgias is given of boxing. You can train someone to be a skilled boxer and, while you may hope they will be righteous and only use this skill within the confines of the boxing arena, they may nonetheless choose to go out into the streets and hit people for the fun of it.

  However, the quest
ion here is whether rhetoric really is the same thing as, say, boxing and, as we have seen, it does not seem to be because it lacks that ‘telos’, that purpose that such skills as boxing, military training, medicine and so on have. If Gorgias were to say that rhetoric has the purpose of making someone righteous, then that is a different matter, but Gorgias isn’t saying that at all. Rather, it would be nice if the orator does encourage someone to be righteous in their choices, but it is not the actual purpose of rhetoric to do this.

  Socrates seems to have sufficient respect for Gorgias to avoid giving the Sophist a particularly hard time in this dialogue, although it seems that at this point Gorgias is starting to be contradictory in, on the one hand, insisting that rhetoric does not set out to teach virtue while, on the other hand, wishing that it would at least encourage virtue. Having reached something of an impasse, however, the brash Polus takes over once more, and with this character Socrates is less inclined to be kind by holding off those dialectic blows.

  PHASE TWO: SOCRATES–POLUS (461–80)

  Socrates, having provided his definition of rhetoric as ‘pandering’ (or, as Socrates stresses, a branch of pandering), is now attacked by Polus, although he does not actually question the power of oratory, but is more concerned with how orators themselves are perceived. Amusingly, Socrates keeps thinking that Polus is launching into a speech rather than asking questions in a dialectic way, because Polus is simply incapable of engaging in dialectic.

  Polus is setting out to accuse Socrates of hypocrisy. Rather like the myth of Gyges’ Ring (see Chapter 6), the orator is no worse than anyone else in what he does for, Polus argues, surely Socrates himself would swap his position for the power that a dictator has, for example, if he were able.

  Socrates’ response at first seems counterintuitive, for he states that, in actual fact, tyrants, dictators, etc. (i.e. those in power) have the least power in the state. He elaborates on this point by considering all human action to be driven not for the sake of the action itself, but for a further aim. For example, Socrates once again uses an example from the medical profession whereby someone takes medicine for the further aim of health, even though the act of taking the medicine is disagreeable. Likewise, someone who goes to work every day does not do it simply for the act of work, but for the money it brings. Of course, many actions are enjoyable in themselves – some of us actually enjoy our jobs – but, in fact, even in these cases we do the act because of the further aim of ‘enjoyment’, otherwise we would not do it. Essentially, and logically, you do something because of what you can gain from it, rather than the act itself.

  In the case of the powerful tyrant, then, an action is also done for the sake of something else, for example someone is executed for the sake of the state. The tyrant, therefore, has very little power at all because the action is for a ‘greater good’, not the tyrant’s own good. This has echoes in Socrates’ view that his own execution was entirely a result of the power within him, not a result of the power of the rulers.

  This brings us back to Polus’ accusation that Socrates is a hypocrite and that he would rather be a tyrant if he could, because Socrates, in a somewhat intricate manner, has argued that the tyrant, despite seemingly free to kill, torture or imprison whomsoever he wishes, is in the unenviable position of having no real power over his actions! This gets at the very heart of the dialogue, which is ethical in nature, and results in Socrates declaring one of his most famous of quotes:

  ‘… I would rather suffer wrong than do wrong’

  Plato, Gorgias, 469

  In response, Polus argues that many people who do wrong also happen to be happy, but Socrates disagrees with him, stating that doing wrong results in shame for the evildoer, and hence unhappiness, even if the evildoer escapes actual punishment. Polus finds this argument preposterous, and gives examples of tyrants who seemed happy enough with their lot, but this approach by Polus comes back to Socrates’ distaste for oratory; it’s reliance upon particular examples rather than getting to universal definitions. As Socrates points out:

  ‘The fact is, my dear sir, that you are trying to prove me wrong by the use of oratory, like people in the law courts. They think that they have got the better of the other party when they can produce a number of respectable witnesses to what they say, while their opponent can produce only one or none at all. But this kind of proof is useless in establishing the truth; it can easily happen that a man is overborne by the false evidence of several apparently respectable persons.’

  Plato, Gorgias, 472

  This argument is not entirely convincing, but is sufficient to silence Polus, and perhaps it is also Plato’s bitter insistence, given the timing of this dialogue, that the state is shamed for the execution of Socrates. In addition, bearing in mind the views of goodness expressed in Republic especially, Plato here is aligning his ethics with the Theory of the Forms and the central argument that it is better to be just than unjust.

  PHASE THREE: SOCRATES–CALLICLES (481–527)

  We are now at the stage whereby Socrates has argued that someone who has done wrong would be so miserable that, even if he could get away Scot free, he would be better off handing himself in to the local police station and embracing his punishment of a prison cell or worse. The now impatient Callicles, quite understandably, at this point asks Chaerephon whether Socrates is joking, to which Chaerephon tells Callicles to ask Socrates himself.

  It’s quite possible (though by no means certain) that Callicles is not a historical figure at all – at least nothing outside of Plato’s writings is known of him – and so is a creation of Plato. The character portrayed is someone – an ambitious, young and rich Athenian politician – who is the opposite to Socrates; of someone who sees morality as lacking any universal values in themselves but merely as a tool to get what you want in life. His view does not differ from that of Thrasymachus in Republic and, in fact, his impatient character is likewise parallel: morality is simply something invented by the weak to defend themselves against the powerful. Callicles, Thrasymachus and a number of other Sophists in Plato’s dialogues, together with various noble politicians trained by Sophists, represent for Socrates a dangerous set of people who are after nothing but power and have no real sincerity in their beliefs. Their views sway from one thing to another depending upon various power struggles and, importantly for Socrates, it means that these people do not know themselves. They have no fulcrum, no values and, therefore, no knowledge of themselves, and are full of contradictions. As Socrates says to Callicles, you ‘shift your ground this way and that’ (Plato, Gorgias, 481).

  Socrates does not mean to be joking, or at least no more than Socrates’ humour is also meant to have a seriousness to it, and so he asks Callicles to explain to him why he thinks that the view that it is better to suffer wrong than to do wrong is nothing more than a joke. What follows is an excellent and lengthy speech by Callicles (482–86). This speech is a praise for power and immorality that Machiavelli would be proud of:

  ‘… by convention an attempt to gain an advantage over the majority is said to be wrong and base, and men call it criminal; nature, on the other hand, herself demonstrates that it is right that the better man should prevail over the worse and the stronger over the weaker. The truth of this can be seen in a variety of examples, drawn both from the animal world and from the complex communities and races of human beings; right consists in the superior ruling over the inferior and having the upper hand.’

  Plato, Gorgias, 483

  A good man is a happy man, and a happy man is a man who wants and has power, regardless of its moral status. Not only is this the best life, but Callicles goes so far as to invite Socrates to surrender his life as a philosopher and pursue this good life, for, as Callicles says:

  ‘It is a fine thing to have a tincture of philosophy, just so much as makes an educated person, and there is no disgrace in a lad philosophizing. But when a man of maturer years remains devoted to this study the thing becomes absurd, Socrates, and I ha
ve the same feeling about philosophers as I have about those who stammer and play childish games.’

  Plato, Gorgias, 485

  Callicles feels sorry for Socrates for spending his time in philosophizing, for it is not providing him with the necessary skills to survive in this dog-eat-dog world and as he says, poignantly given what is to occur to Socrates, any man could bring Socrates to trial even when he is innocent and he would be executed because of his inability to raise the crowd with oratory.

  How does Socrates respond to Callicles? To begin, Socrates asks whether it is sufficient to have mastery only over others, but no mastery over one’s self. By self-mastery, Socrates means being in control of one’s desires and, therefore, acting in moderation. Callicles, however, thinks this is a ridiculous notion; for him, ‘self-mastery’ is synonymous with repression of desires and, therefore, would make a man miserable by having to deny his appetites. Callicles is presenting Socrates with a picture of what nature is really like, as ‘will-to-power’ as the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche called it, and that it is therefore required for Man to fulfil his nature by exerting his powers to the full, not in restraining them.

  Socrates then gives us a delightful story (493) of the image of the soul as a leaky bucket! No matter how much you attempt to fill it, you will never keep it full. This, Socrates suggests, is the problem with always having desires; you will never be satisfied, your bucket will never be full. The temperate man, however, is satisfied with what he has and nothing more. Callicles, however, still sees things differently; for him the man who is seemingly satisfied with his lot has nothing left to crave for, to strive for, and might as well be dead.