This chapter contains sections titled: Teaching Excellence Socrates' Subtle Argument Protagoras Replies Protagoras's Ignorance Socrates is Extraordinary Further Reading.

There are at least two apparently conflicting views of courage found in Plato's dialogues: the intellectualist view exemplified by Socrates’s identification of courage with wisdom as found in the Protagoras; and the dispositional view of courage as a natural temperament to overcome fear in situations of danger, the necessary qualification for the auxiliary class in the Republic. In this paper I argue that these views are complementary, dispositional courage being a necessary precondition for the pursuit of the proper human (...) excellence of wisdom. I demonstrate this by considering the role opinion plays in each understanding of courage, showing both that dispositional courage is necessary to ensure that proper opinions be retained in the pursuit of wisdom and that wisdom is necessary to guarantee these opinions are the proper ones. Finally, I argue that not only is this relationship of the two understandings of courage present in the Republic, but even in the Protagoras Socrates’s method of conducting the el.. (shrink)

In his exciting new book, Plato’s Anti-hedonism and the Protagoras, J. Clerk Shaw paints a masterful portrait of the Athenian majority, or “the many,” as portrayed by Plato not just in the Protagoras (as the title advertises), but throughout the Platonic corpus. Shaw offers an incisive diagnosis of popular “double-think,” which balances the incoherent complex of commitments to hedonism (the view the pleasure is the good), to the possibility of akrasia (weakness of will) and to the belief that injustice is (...) prudent, i.e. in one’s own self-interest to do. Shaw also puts the dialectical context of the Protagoras to good use in identifying the double-talk that Protagoras is forced into by his own conflicting claims and commitments. The central thesis I question is that the sophists have internalized the opinions of the many, thus absorbing conventional morality as their own as opposed to waking the tightrope of popular opinion. Certainly the sophists’ currency is the opinions of the many, reflecting their own views back to them, and this creates difficulties and tensions in their stances (not least because they are reflecting the incoherent double-think that Shaw so beautifully brings out). However, all this can be true independently of the possibility of the sophists’ actually internalizing the views of the many, i.e. without speculating about their psychology at all. I argue that this thesis of Shaw’s is not necessary for his core insights about the many, and (likewise) that we can resist two other interpretative moves he makes. Shaw’s readings of the Protagoras—of Socrates as committed to spirit (thumos), and of the argument that akrasia is ignorance and courage is wisdom as independent of the commitment to hedonis—reveal his sympathies for a so-called “unitarian” interpretation of Plato, which takes the corpus to provide a unified doctrine rather than reflecting the author’s intellectual development. Here too, I suggest, Shaw’s insights can be preserved without running afoul of this interpretive disagreement. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Socrates Dissatisfied: An Analysis of Plato’s Crito by Roslyn WeissMark L. McPherranRoslyn Weiss. Socrates Dissatisfied: An Analysis of Plato’s Crito. New York: Oxford University Press, 1997. Pp. xii + 187. Cloth, $39.95.The speech by ‘the Laws’ of the Crito has commonly been understood as a case of Socratic ventriloquism, voicing a doctrine of authoritarian civic obligation that Socrates himself endorses. This, of course, generates the (...) standard problem of reconciling this docile son of Athens with the radically autonomous Socrates of the Apology, a man obedient only to the dictates of his own reason. Roslyn Weiss’s book sets out to challenge this mainstream reading.On Weiss’s account, the speech of the Laws is a piece of crafty Socratic rhetoric antithetical to Socrates’ own convictions. Its purpose, then, is to convince not the reader but the lawless and unphilosophical Crito that Socrates ought to remain in Athens, using terms that Crito can comprehend (terms that will benefit his soul by making him more law-abiding). Despite this false ‘oratory’ (50b6–8), however, Socrates’ own first allegiance is to “justice and philosophy” (3) whose principles dictate that he suffer the court’s judgment, “abiding by the things agreed to” at his trial (Cr. 50a2–3).Although others have argued for this thesis, this is the first book-length argument of its kind and it supersedes all previous attempts in its persuasiveness and its thorough and detailed treatment: sensitive not only to the dialogue’s Greek and argumentative structure, but also to its literary/characterological nuances, it establishes an important scholarly outpost on the interpretation of the Crito and a worthy challenge to Richard Kraut’s reading. It is, finally, written in a remarkably engaging, clean and effective style, addressing the secondary scholarship adequately, and providing a useful bibliography and general index (though, regrettably, no Index Locorum).The book essentially follows the text of the Crito in a series of nine chapters. After a short Introduction, Chapter 2 begins by portraying Socrates as an autonomous moral agent utterly devoted to justice; Chapter 3 distinguishes Crito from Socrates; Chapter 4 contends that 46b–50a outlines Socrates’ complete argument against escape (one compatible with the principles of the Apology); Chapter 5 unpacks Socrates’ hint at 50a–d that the Laws will be offering only rhetorical arguments; Chapter 6 outlines these arguments and their logical flaws; Chapter 7 addresses Socrates’ characterization of their effect as ‘Corybantic’ (54d); Chapter 8 explains how the Laws are able to “boost Crito to a higher rung on the moral ladder,” (6); and finally, Chapter 9 reaffirms the radical moral independence of Socrates.Provocative and impressive, the book is bound to provoke criticism and reservations in its readers. Here I can only record a sample of my own. First, it seems to me that Weiss’s desire to portray Socrates as a slave of reason and not the state leads her astray when she tries to account for Socrates’ apparent reliance on the extrarational (15–23). Weiss, for example, tries to map out a new third alternative to the opposition between Vlastos’ view that the daimonion is no more than a kind of subjective, contentless hunch and the Brickhouse, Smith and McPherran view that the daimonion can oppose and ‘trump’ the results of rational deliberation. As she sees it, for Socrates the daimonion is not a voice independent of, and in potential conflict with, his own thinking; rather, it is the voice of his own unconscious beliefs, restraining him for his own reasons from [End Page 620] doing what he is tempted to do in moments of weakness. There is much to be said against this account, but it will suffice to point out that whatever the true nature of the daimonion might have been, Socrates is not likely to have been sympathetic to Weiss’s analysis of it. All our evidence, after all, indicates that Socrates takes the cause of the daimonion to be a god or daimoôn in the traditional sense of those terms (see, e.g., Ap. 27b–28a). Weiss’s proposal also runs up against texts such as Lysis 218C4–8 and 215C4–5, where Socrates recounts an... (shrink)

This work proposes a logical analysis for the kind of knowledge or insight provided by Buddhist enlightenment, which is often presented only in the form of contradictions and riddles. The comprehension of contradictions is perplexing to most western logic, and yet developed here is a theory demonstrating how a non truth-functional interpretation can be attached to certain naturalistic contradictions. In this way, the logical and psychological status of Enlightenment can be analysed in a manner consistent with the claims of much (...) Eastern thought. For example, it is argued that by breaking the logical principle of identity, it is possible to understand the contradiction "Everybody's friend is nobody's friend" in such a way as to learn something new about friendship, thereby causing us to modify our concept of friendship. In this way our grasp of contradictions can lead to conceptual change. -/- It is further noted that conflicts in all areas of life can be expressed by contradictions, so that our capacity in general to grasp naturalistic contradictions is also a basis for conflict-resolution -thus justifying the term 'Enlightenment'. This pragmatic comprehension of contradictions is thus shown to formalise, not only the Middle Way of Buddhism, but also Socratic dialectic. Finally, the analysis explains why gnomic utterances in every religion and Zen in particular, are sometimes expected to trigger spiritual enlightenment. (shrink)

This book takes on two main tasks. The first is to argue that anti-hedonism lies at the center of Plato's critical project in both ethics and politics. Plato sees pleasure and pain as our sole sources of empirical evidence about good and bad. But as sources of evidence they are highly fallible; contrast effects with pain intensify certain pleasures, including most pleasures related to the body and social standing. This leads us to believe that the causes of such pleasures (e.g. (...) food, drink, sex, status) are greater goods than they are, and greater goods than other, more important goods (e.g. virtue, knowledge). As a result, hedonic error produces the belief that vice, including injustice, can be prudent. Hedonic error leads to other misconceptions of virtue as well, such as that wisdom is weak and can be ruled by the passions. These cognitive distortions can only be corrected by reference to some non-hedonic standard, so hedonists reliably fall prey to them. This entire system of attitudes—hedonism and its associated misconceptions of virtue—is widely held and constitutes popular morality. Popular morality's basic source is hedonic error, but it is also transmitted and sustained in society through shame and fear of punishment. However, avoiding shame and punishment requires a sort of double-think: adherents of popular morality must accept certain views that they cannot acknowledge too clearly or too publicly. For example, they must hold that injustice can be prudent and must be willing to wrong out-groups (e.g. another city), but openly acknowledging this same view threatens in-groups (one's own city) by implying willingness to wrong some in the city to benefit a closer in-group (e.g. one's class, clique, or family). // -/- The book's second task is to tackle a seeming outlier to Plato's anti-hedonism: the _Protagoras_, where Socrates appears to defend hedonism. I argue that the _Protagoras_ actually perfectly illustrates Plato's anti-hedonism, as explained above. Protagoras and other sophists think they shape public opinion, but in fact they have internalized popular morality through shame and fear. As a result, Protagoras accepts but refuses to openly endorse three parts of popular morality: that injustice can be prudent (333c), that pleasure is the good (351c-d), and that wisdom is weak and can be ruled by the passions (352c-d). Each time, his concealed view is (aptly!) attributed to "the many". So, when Socrates appears to endorse hedonism in the _Protagoras_, he actually introduces and develops the view as part of his examination of Protagoras' covert ethical commitments. (shrink)

This article explores the motif of psychic nourishment in Plato’s Protagoras. It does so by analyzing what consequences Socrates’ claim that only a physician of souls will be able adequately to assess the quality of such nourishment has for the argument of the dialogue. To this purpose, the first section of the article offers a detailed analysis of Socrates’ initial conversation with Hippocrates, highlighting and interpreting the various uses of medical metaphors. Building on this, this section argues that (...) the warning Socrates utters against sophistry is much more complex than commonly assumed, and further that Socrates demonstrates his own skill as a physician of souls during this conversation. The second part analyzes the first half of Socrates’ discussion with Protagoras, arguing that Socrates here demonstrates another aspect of his expertise as a physician of souls by making Protagoras participate, although against his will, in bringing the unhealthy character of his teachings to light. (shrink)

A different perspective is offered on the problematic arguments for the identity of various virtues in the 'Protagoras' by taking into account the dramatic context in which Socrates makes these arguments. A close examination of the portrayal of Protagoras's profession of sophistry, particularly in his telling of a version of the Promethean Myth, reveals a concealed and ignoble doctrine about human virtue. Viewing Socrates' primary intention to be exposing the sophist, particularly his conception of virtue as (...) disunified, explains some of the puzzling aspects of the arguments Socrates offers for the unity of the virtues. (shrink)

Being a healthcare professional in both paediatric and adult hospitals will mean being exposed to human tragedies and stressful events involving conflict, misunderstanding, and moral distress. There are a number of different structured approaches to reflection and discussion designed to support healthcare professionals process and make sense of their feelings and experiences and to mitigate against direct and vicarious trauma. In this paper, we draw from our experience in a large children’s hospital and more broadly from the literature to (...) identify and analyse four established approaches to facilitated reflective discussions. Each of the four approaches seeks to acknowledge the stressful nature of health professional work and to support clinicians from all healthcare professions to develop sustainable skills so they continue to grow and thrive as health professionals. Each approach also has the potential to open up feelings of uncertainty, frustration, sorrow, anguish, and moral distress for participants. We argue, therefore, that in order to avoid unintentionally causing harm, a facilitator should have specific skills required to safely lead the discussion and be able to explain the nature, scope, safe application, and limits of each approach. With reference to a hypothetical but realistic clinical case scenario, we discuss the application and key features of each approach, including the goals, underpinning theory, and methods of facilitation. (shrink)

In the "Republic," Plato has Socrates attack poetry’s use of mimēsis, often translated as ‘imitation’ or ‘representation.’ Various scholars (e.g. Blondell 2002; Frank 2018; Halliwell 2009; K. Morgan 2004) have noticed the tension between Socrates’ theory critical of mimēsis and Plato’s literary practice of speaking through various characters in his dialogues. However, none of these scholars have addressed that it is not only Plato the writer who uses mimēsis but also his own character, Socrates. At crucial moments (...) in several dialogues, Socrates takes on a role and speaks as someone else. I call these moments “Socratic mimēsis.” While previous commentators have noticed some of these moments, they have either overstated their rarity or they have not studied them collectively. My dissertation is the first in-depth investigation of this phenomenon in the dialogues. Socrates’ dramatic imitation of others is way of teaching in a voice separate from his own, and it is also a way for Plato to speak to, and to educate, different kinds of audiences. Although “Socratic mimēsis” occurs throughout the Platonic corpus, I focus on three passages from three different dialogues, which are paradigm instances: [1] in the "Crito" Socrates plays the part of ‘the Laws’ (50a-54c); [2] in the "Theaetetus" he acts the part of ‘Protagoras’ (166a-168c); and [3] in the "Menexenus" he recites a funeral speech learned from ‘Aspasia’ (236d-249c). Instead of one-sidedly reading the dialogues as either only literary works of art or as only a series of philosophical arguments, this study gleans philosophic insights from the literary and dramatic details of the dialogues. In chapter one I argue that in the "Crito" Socrates tries to convince Crito of a universal and absolute ethics based on never committing injustice, but Crito is not able to understand. In order to make Crito more just—but not yet at the level of Socratic ethics—Socrates creates ‘the Laws’ to persuade Crito to expand his personal notion of justice. Socrates instills a political obedience in place of Crito’s existing lawlessness as a second-best recourse. Plato expects the astute listener or reader to see the contrast between Socrates’ earlier ethical principles, said in his own voice, with what he says in the voice of ‘the Laws.’ In chapter two I argue that in the part of the "Theaetetus" where Socrates defends Protagoras (often called ‘the Defense’), Socrates, by imitating ‘Protagoras,’ is actually criticizing Protagorean relativism. The Protagorean theory cannot account for mimēsis and Socrates’ mimetic act performatively contradicts the identity of appearance and reality, which the theory presupposes. Finally, in chapter three I argue that in the Menexenus the funeral oration that Socrates recounts for Menexenus that he heard from ‘Aspasia’ is actually a disguised criticism of political rhetoric and of Athenian imperialism. Although the speech is never interrogated within the dialogue, Plato provokes the listener or reader outside the dialogue to question its message and to see how it conflicts with many of Socrates’ positions in other dialogues. Beyond reconsidering the long-standing and persistent view that Plato was against poetry and mimetic performance, I re-examine the role that performance and role-playing can have in philosophy and pedagogy more generally. Actors, by taking on other personas, and audience members, in observing actors and their actions, are both involved in acts of imagination that can expand their horizon of thinking and feeling. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Philosophy 39.1 (2001) 137-139 [Access article in PDF] Gareth B. Matthews. Socratic Perplexity and the Nature of Philosophy. New York: Oxford University Press, 1999. Pp. 137. Cloth, $29.95 Thomas C. Brickhouse and Nicholas D. Smith. The Philosophy of Socrates. Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 2000. Pp. x + 290. Paper $22.00. Matthews' little book tracks the course of Socrates' perplexity, which, Matthews contends, (...) starts out as an obstacle to successful inquiry, but becomes, eventually, itself the target of inquiry. Matthews regards as quite genuine the perplexity that Socrates professes in certain of the early dialogues—Laches, Charmides, Euthyphro—largely, however, because Matthews himself finds Socrates' questions so stubbornly persistent. Yet, couldn't Socrates, at least with respect to some of his questions, experience no state of confusion, no perplexity, but, nevertheless, profess perplexity? Perhaps Socrates' confessions of perplexity signal only his awareness that he lacks knowledge of virtue; perhaps they are but rhetorical devices for encouraging Socrates' interlocutors to admit to their own ignorance.As the book continues, Matthews, following a line fairly standard by now, thinks that, in the "transitional" Meno, Socrates discovers two ways out of the perplexity: recollection, and the method of hypothesis; and that, in the "middle" dialogues—the Republic and Phaedo—the Theory of Forms comes to his rescue. In the Parmenides and, perhaps later, Matthews maintains, the Theory of Forms becomes itself the object of inquiry, as Socrates recognizes the perplexities with which it is fraught. Matthews mentions, but takes no stand on, the controversies surrounding the late dialogues, moving on at last to Aristotle and the different kind of perplexity one encounters there.For the briefest moment it looks as if Matthews might resist the standard line, when, in discussing the Meno, he notices not only that the geometrical problem of the Meno's slave-boy passage causes no perplexity comparable to that caused by Socrates' philosophical problems, but that Socrates is fully in charge in the geometrical demonstration, stinging another without simultaneously stinging himself. Yet, not only does Matthews fail to pursue his insight that moral or philosophical questions are, for Socrates, not like mathematical ones; on the contrary, he suggests that, in the Phaedo, philosophical problems are viewed by Socrates as mathematical ones.In The Philosophy of Socrates, Brickhouse and Smith undertake the ambitious task of expounding and defending a coherent and cohesive Socratic philosophy, one that encompasses Socrates' method, his wisdom and ignorance, his understanding of the nature of knowledge, his moral philosophy, psychology, politics, and religion. For a book meant to be a popular introduction, it is remarkably comprehensive—even [End Page 137] exhaustive—and serves to acquaint the reader with the current scholarly controversies surrounding Socratic philosophy as it is debated in the analytic tradition associated most frequently with the late and great Gregory Vlastos.In many respects, The Philosophy of Socrates is but an updated version of Brickhouse and Smith's earlier book, Plato's Socrates (Oxford University Press, 1994)—though without the rich and copious notes. The earlier book is the better one. The new book, although it purports to discuss the philosophy of the historical Socrates, is, from Chapter 2 on, a book about the Socrates of Plato's "early" dialogues. Yet, it is precisely this Socrates who is largely absent from its pages. The Socrates of the early dialogues is a character: both in the sense that he is a protagonist in the dramas that are Plato's dialogues, and in the sense that he is sarcastic, funny, makes bad puns, strikes at his interlocutors where they are most vulnerable, teases, baits, and annoys. But, most importantly, this Socrates is no solitary thinker. He talks to people; and what he says and how he says it is influenced both by his interlocutor and by the context of their conversation. Brickhouse and Smith, however, take such factors into account but rarely—and then only to save their own take on a particular Socratic doctrine.The two interpretive principles that Brickhouse and Smith invoke most often... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:James S. Mullican DETERMINISM, FATALISM, AND FREE WILL IN HAWTHORNE A recurrent theme in Nathaniel Hawthorne's writing is the relationship between fatalism and free will. His tales, romances, and notebooks contain explicit and implied references to man's freedom of choice and his consequent responsibility for his acts, as well as to "fatalities" that impel men to various courses of action. Much of the ambiguity in Hawthorne's fiction rests on (...) this conflict between the notions of human freedom and responsibility on one hand and fatalism on the other. Although there is no question that this theme was important for Hawthorne, there is much disagreement concerning what Hawthorne himself believed. Critics have taken virtually every position on the spectrum between the poles of complete freedom and complete fatalism. That this disagreement exists should not be surprising. Hawthorne was an artist, not a philosopher or theologian; an important element of his technique, perhaps essential to his vision of life, was his ambiguity. His dual vision of the world, of matter and spirit, of evil and good, and his emphasis now of one, now of the other, engender disagreement concerning his view of life. His alternate fascination with and apparent rejection of Puritanism have led some to believe he was a predestinarían, others to hold that he was a "libertarian," and at least one critic to write that Hawthorne believed in a "modified predestination." Turner argued that Hawthorne's attitude toward reform led him to fatalistic thinking. Since reform movements touched only the surface manifestations of vice, such movements were useless, in Hawthorne's view. The logical conclusion of such a position, reasoned Turner, was fatalism. "Hence reform which would stir only the superficial outcroppings and would leave untouched the real causes underneath would be futile at best. And since the true sources of evil, so Hawthorne thought, lie largely beyond the reach of human efforts, fatalism was the certain end of his thinking." Turner saw evidence for fatalism 91 92Philosophy and Literature in Hawthorne's fiction also: "... there is a clear suggestion that the decisions [by Hester, Dimmesdale, Rappaccini, Ethan Brand, and Hollingsworth] have been inevitable, that the agent responsible is fate rather than Hawthorne's character." This critic concluded that Hawthorne was convinced that "the universe, including man and man's soul, is governed by inexorable law." Some critics have linked Hawthorne's beliefs regarding free will and fatalism to his attitude toward Calvinism. Schneider wrote, "... Hawthorne translated into empirical truths the essential doctrines of Calvinism.... From the popular doctrine of reform, he returned to the Puritan doctrine of divine sovereignty." Schneider suggested that Hawthorne purified the doctrines of the Puritans and returned them to their original purpose, salvation of the soul. "He recovered what Puritans professed but seldom practiced—the spirit of piety, humility, and tragedy in the face of the inscrutable ways of God." Cowley wrote that Hawthorne "believed in predestination, as the Calvinists did." Mills was of the opinion that Hawthorne was the most sympathetic to the Puritans of the writers of his day, but that Calvinist dogma was moderated and softened in Hawthorne: "He did not accept completely the Calvinist doctrine of predestination, nor did he emphasize the supreme sovereignty of God which was the driving force of Calvinism." Other critics have granted some measure of freedom to Hawthorne's characters. Arvin wrote, "... freedom of choice exists, but on so narrow a basis that, once exercised in the wrong direction, it is forever resigned." Fairbanks held that Hawthorne reserved to man the initial moral choice which set up the chain of necessity, and from that notion Fairbanks drew the conclusion that, "Though often called a fatalist, Hawthorne believed in free will." Schwartz, in an unpublished doctoral dissertation, argued from Hawthorne's life and from his writings that he rejected fatalism in favor of free will. Wagenknecht noted that Hawthorne refused "to accept foreordination and total depravity." Still other critics have emphasized a paradoxical element in Hawthorne 's writing, his acceptance of both horns of the dilemma. Waggoner wrote: "He saw man as immersed in a mystery in which responsibility is at odds with fate. His own natural tendency was to emphasize causation at the... (shrink)

Suppose an accountant discovers evidence of shady practices while ex amining the books of a client. What should he or she do? Accountants have a professional obligation to respect the confidentiality of their cli ents' accounts. But, as an ordinary citizen, our accountant may feel that the authorities ought to be informed. Suppose a physician discov ers that a patient, a bus driver, has a weak heart. If the patient contin ues bus driving even after being informed of the heart (...) condition, should the physician inform the driver's company? Respect for patient confidentiality would say, no. But what if the driver should suffer a heart attack while on duty, causing an accident in which people are killed or seriously injured? Would the doctor bear some responsibility for these consequences? Special obligations, such as those of confidentiality, apply to any one in business or the professions. These obligations articulate, at least in part, what it is for someone to be, say, an accountant or a physician. Since these obligations are special, they raise a real possibility of con flict with the moral principles we usually accept outside of these spe cial relationships in business and the professions. These conflicts may become more accentuated for a professional who is also a corporate employee-a corporate attorney, an engineer working for a construction company, a nurse working as an employee of a hospital. (shrink)

The relation between virtue and knowledge is at the heart of the Socratic view of human excellence, but it also points to a central puzzle of the Platonic dialogues: Can Socrates be serious in his claims that human excellence is constituted by one virtue, that vice is merely the result of ignorance, and that the correct response to crime is therefore not punishment but education? Or are these assertions mere rhetorical ploys by a notoriously complex thinker? Lorraine Smith Pangle (...) traces the argument for the primacy of virtue and the power of knowledge throughout the five dialogues that feature them most prominently—the _Apology, Gorgias, Protagoras, Meno,_ and _Laws_—and reveals the truth at the core of these seemingly strange claims. She argues that Socrates was more aware of the complex causes of human action and of the power of irrational passions than a cursory reading might suggest. Pangle’s perceptive analyses reveal that many of Socrates’s teachings in fact explore the factors that make it difficult for humans to be the rational creatures that he at first seems to claim. Also critical to Pangle’s reading is her emphasis on the political dimensions of the dialogues. Underlying many of the paradoxes, she shows, is a distinction between philosophic and civic virtue that is critical to understanding them. Ultimately, Pangle offers a radically unconventional way of reading Socrates’s views of human excellence: Virtue is not knowledge in any ordinary sense, but true virtue is nothing other than wisdom. (shrink)

We should now be able to come to some general conclusions about the main lines of Cuvier's development as a naturalist after his departure from Normandy. We have seen that Cuvier arrived in Paris aware of the importance of physiology in classification, yet without a fully worked out idea of how such an approach could organize a whole natural order. He was freshly receptive to the ideas of the new physiology developed by Xavier Bichat.Cuvier arrived in a Paris also torn (...) by many overlapping debates on the nature of classification, and in particular that between the natural and artificial systems. The very validity of the enterprise of classification was questioned in many quarters. Cuvier's achievement on his entry into the Parisian world of science was not simply to establish himself as a highly competent anatomist: far more important, he also began to use ideas from many different specialties to change completely the notion of what was involved in natural history.124 At the same time that he himself swung away from the guiding image of the field naturalist as the ideal of the specialty, he took ideas from the new physiology to answer questions about the order of the animal world, and from comparative anatomy to resurrect extinct creation — and to come to conclusions from that creation about the history of the forms of life and the manner of their succession. He showed himself able to alter the relationships between natural history and many other fields of study in a way that implied, rightly or wrongly, his own complete mastery over such a movement. Partly he was able to do this because the ideas he borrowed were not themselves logically articulated and thus could be easily adapted and refocused for many different specific purposes. The value of the heuristic possibilities inherent in the idea of life, for example, far outweighed its inability to generate full systems of classification. Cuvier also consistently refused to consider in science matters relating to the first causes of events. Freed from the consideration of first-order phenomena, he was able to use second-order explanations across a far wider field of applicability. Personal doubts about the validity of a theology that had used science in order to bolster its own claims were combined here with the strong influence of the Kantian critique of the limits of human reason.125Cuvier's characteristic mode of procedure was that of intellectual appropriation and a bold capacity for altering the relationships between different fields of knowledge, rather than, with the exception of taxonomy, the technique of expanding their subject matter. His claims to originality came, first, from this reappropriation and reorientation and, second, from the sheer scope of his work, which aimed at nothing less than the cataloging and classification of all animate objects.126 They rested also on his acute use of his assertion of a certain relationship with the past of his subject. Very often he would present this history in such a way as to obscure his own intellectual genealogy, and often too he would give differing accounts of the priority of use of an idea in order to distract attention from the questionable exactitude of his own claims to originality. Cuvier came to Paris at precisely the time when society and institutions were most profitably malleable for a newcomer; it was also a time when many scientific disciplines had reached a stage advanced in terms of their factual content, yet relatively inadequate in conceptual organization. They were ripe for takeover by large-scale organizing ideas such as the animal economy and the subordination of characteristics. Paleontology is a particularly good example of a specialty in this particular form of underdevelopment in 1795.Cuvier paid a high price for his initial success. His electic applications of large-scale organizing ideas tended to mean that little of his own work had complete coherence at all levels. Ideas, as we have seen, that proved capable of providing a complete reform of the larger groups of the animal kingdom were incapable of producing its detailed working-out in the taxonomy of smaller groups, which had to be supplied from observed analogical correlations. Further, his physiological approach to classification involved the breakdown of strict correspondence between organs and functions, which left the way open for workers such as Geoffroy St. Hilaire gradually to tilt the balance away from the study of the correlations of hierarchies of functions, and toward morphology as the basis of the order of nature. Cuvier's brilliant appropriations from physiology from the beginning, therefore, contained the seeds of conflict with Geoffroy.Cuvier's eclectic approach made it very nearly impossible for him to present a clear idea of the ways in which the life sciences could be said to be lawful. In spite of his efforts to assimilate them to the position of the physical sciences in this respect, he was forced in the end to accord only an ambiguous status as “laws” to observational correlations. From this area of failure came much of the attempt to give his own two laws — the correlation of parts and the subordination of characteristics — predictive qualities, particularly in relation to paleontological research.It is not surprising that Cuvier's title as the “legislator” of natural history should represent more a claim than a reality. How, then, was he able to emerge as the leading French naturalist of his day? First of all must be adduced the sheer scale of his undertakings. Then comes his expertise as a practical anatomist, and the range of different topics toward which he turned his interest. His collaborators cannot be given credit for his output nor, as we have seen, for slavish adherence to his ideas. Cuvier was able to successfully claim to have dominated the underdeveloped specialties, such as paleontology, and turned them into a major heuristic input into both geology and comparative anatomy; but in other fields, such as physiology, he appropriated concepts and encouraged research but made little impact on the field himself. His attempts in 1812 to head off, or neutralize and absorb the growth of morphological studies landed him in a dangerously rigid position, which despite his encouragement of the new physiological research under the Restoration made further elaboration of his own conceptual underpinnings almost impossible.Cuvier's authority in the scientific world would in any case have been great because of his substantive achievement in taxonomy, but the rest of his work had enough ambiguities and dislocations for it to need the support of his political and social power. Cuvier's detractors seized on a vital fragment of the truth when they accused him of finding the political dimension all-important: it obscured the disjunctions in his theories and at the same time gave him the authority to make new claims for the status of the observational sciences - and for their relations of power with their surrounding specialties. Cuvier's science both thrived on and was halted by the power games of intellectual appropriation, manipulation of the past to confirm the present, and continual claims for hegemony. (shrink)

This dissertation offers an interpretation of moral knowledge and moral education in Plato's Protagoras. The dialogue develops the deeply antagonistic views of Protagoras and Socrates about these and related topics. I examine their competing views about several important questions, including: What is moral wisdom, and how is it related to the other parts of virtue? Can arete be taught, and if not, how else might it be acquired? Is the good reducible to natural human desires, or does it in (...) some way transcend the natural world? The dissertation includes a detailed analysis of all sections of the dialogue, as well as of relevant sections of the Theaetetus. In the Introduction and Conclusion I also compare Protagoras' and Socrates' views to those of other moral philosophers. ;I argue that for Protagoras, arete is the ability to plan well and to exert control over external circumstances in order to promote one's own survival and pleasure. Moral reasoning is a techne, a tool for maximizing human desires. An analysis of the Great Speech shows that Protagoras is an ethical naturalist: the good is survival. Justice and shame are valuable in that they promote this end. Socratic dialectic reveals that, for Protagoras, wisdom has priority over any virtues with which it conflicts. Socrates' analysis of hedonism elicits Protagoras' assumption that pleasure is the good, an assumption inconsistent with Protagoras' view that courage is a virtue. ;Socrates, by contrast, is not an ethical naturalist; the good is not an object of the natural world. Moral knowledge is not technical, for it requires self-knowledge. While arete depends upon moral knowledge, our knowledge is always incomplete: we may progress towards excellence, but can never fully attain it. The human soul has an openness to the good, but we must articulate and test our intuitions through conversation with others. Moral teaching, understood as the simple transmission of knowledge, is impossible, but moral learning through philosophical exploration of moral intuitions and their limits is possible. Philosophy, so understood, better preserves ordinary moral experience than does Sophistry. (shrink)

At the heart of Plato’s Protagoras is a lengthy interlude in which Socrates is compelled to offer an interpretation of a poem by Simonides. Protagoras, a notable sophist, challenges Socrates to explain away an alleged inconsistency: Simonides claims that it is hard for someone to become good or virtuous, but then criticizes another poet for saying what seems to be the same thing. In taking up this challenge, Socrates offers a protracted exegesis of the poem. While this (...) so-called ‘poetic interlude’ has long attracted the attention of commentators, I uncover new and important ways in which it is connected to broader Platonic arguments and themes. I begin by marking a threefold distinction between ignorance, competence, and expertise, which both Protagoras and Socrates seem to utilize, but which has not been noted in the literature. I argue that this distinction helps to explain why Socrates is concerned to distinguish ‘being’ good from ‘becoming’ good in his own exegesis of the poem. I also argue that it helps to explain the significance of the preamble Socrates offers to his own interpretation, since it reveals the kind of knowledge that he believes is required for ‘being’ good or virtuous. The dialogue concludes with an explicit dilemma about virtue, but the resources I uncover allow for a satisfying resolution to it. (shrink)

Modern nursing evolved out of a war. Today’s nurses not only work in war zones but the profession as a whole needs to consider its responsibility in caring for victims of conflict and what its international duty is in preventing wars. This means that nurses must be informed of the devastation caused by conflict not only in countries where conflicts and war take place but also world-wide. Nurses’ responsibility is to prevent illness and alleviate suffering, which includes (...) the long-term morbidity caused by wars. They need to be more politically active in conflict resolution and prevention at local, community, national and international levels. The purpose of this article is to address these issues from an ethical perspective and to suggest implications for nursing education and practice. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Cynthia B. Cohen THE TRIALS OF SOCRATES AND JOSEPH K. No two trials could have been more unlike than those of Socrates and Joseph K. As portrayed in Plato's Apology,' Socrates was the conscience of Athens, a thoughtful and courageous man whose life was devoted to the pursuit of wisdom. He challenged others to examine themselves and to transform themselves into lovers of truth and goodness. (...) This gadfly of Athens was put on trial by those whom he had stung and was dispatched with a final slap. He died the bravest, wisest, and most upright man of his time. By contrast, Joseph K., the protagonist of Kafka's novel, The Trial, was an ordinary bank clerk locked into a life of unreflective routine. His arrest one day by the agents of a Court he could not comprehend failed to change his rote approach. Like a fly stuck fast to flypaper, he was glued to the details of his immediate experience, and would not rise above these to find meaning in his dreary life, or even in his shameful death. Socrates was an original and constructive thinker who died rather than deny the purpose that he found in human life; Joseph K. was a leaden bureaucrat whose life was one long moment of guilty hesitation before a broader vision of things. Or is it that Socrates was an arrogant, peculiar, conniving failure who was engaged in an insidious attempt to undermine the moral and political values of Athens? And is it that Joseph K. was a successful young businessman who had established himself as a conscientious, decent, and eminently reasonable man struggling bravely for justice against an alien and capricious authority? Or perhaps these two trials should be seen as very similar. Each man was tried on charges of which he claimed to be innocent; each wanted to restore order and meaning to a disintegrating world; each led a life that became the cause of his death; and each was condemned for claiming that the unexamined life was not worth living. Or is it that Joseph K. was condemned for maintaining that it was the examined life that was not worth living...? 212 Cynthia B. Cohen213 Difficulties in the interpretation of works of literature are to be expected when their subjects are complex and subtle individuals set in an atmosphere in which basic questions of human significance are raised. Both the Apology and The Trial are such works. Socrates initially seems a model of clarity to the interpreter. He responds to his accusers in a form of direct discourse that can be taken at face value. He presents his arguments openly and cogently. There can be no doubt that his general position is coherent, consistent, and reasonable. Yet the interpreter 's initial satisfaction fades as Socrates' irony creates confusion about what Socrates professes to know. His lines of reasoning seem to intersect in paradox; his answers to questions about the meaning and purpose of human life curve around to miss each other. The interpreter emerges confused and perplexed. These transformations of perspective and significance are repeated in The Trial. Joseph K., too, is described in a straightforward manner that is clear and quite detailed. His reactions and arguments appear sensible and well-reasoned. Yet on closer examination, his simple statements turn out to have hidden meanings; his responses often contradict one another; his logical arguments appear pointless. His answers to questions about the meaning and purpose of human life are immediately challenged by a horde of competitors. To the interpreter, The Trial metamorphizes into a model of intentional obscurity. The problem of interpretation is compounded in the case of Socrates by the question of the accuracy of our information about him. The "Socratic problem" is well known. Each of the four major sources about his life and thought, Xenophon, Aristophanes, Plato, and Aristotle, presents a somewhat different person. There has been strong support for the view that the portrayal of Socrates in the earlier dialogues of Plato is essentially sound, even though this earlier Socrates seems at variance with the later one. The resolution of this problem is irrelevant to this endeavor. Our purpose is to consider the life and... (shrink)

That Socrates took himself to possess a divine sign is well attested by ancient sources. Both Plato and Xenophon mention Socrates’ daimonion on numerous occasions. What is problematic for contemporary scholars is that Socrates unfailingly obeys the warnings of his sign. Scholars have worried that Socrates seems to ascribe greater epistemic authority to his sign than his own critical reasoning. Moreover, he never so much as questions the authority of his sign to guide his actions, much (...) less its divine nature. Socrates’ unquestioning obedience to his sign thus appears to be in conflict with another of Socrates’ defining characteristics: namely, his relentless rationality. However, Socrates does not seem to recognize such inconsistency. The problem of the daimonion, then, is this: is Socrates’ professed commitment to rationality consistent with his unquestioning deference to his daimonion’s warnings? And if so, how? In this paper, I first discuss several solutions to the problem of the daimonion. I aim to show that none of the accounts of Socrates’ sign that have appeared in the scholarly literature are adequate. I then propose a new account of the daimonion, which, I argue, secures the rationality of Socrates’ obedience to his divine sign. (shrink)

The study of Plato has become involved in so many entanglements of higher criticism that it is difficult even to approach the interpretation of any particular dialogue without bias or preconceptions. A swarm of problems starts up for settlement as a preliminary consideration to the correct understanding of Plato’s aims in writing the dialogue, and there is a danger lest its precise issue and philosophical value may be obscured by discussions about its place in the chronological order of the dialogues, (...) as to whether it expresses the views of Socrates or of Plato, or represents a particular stage in the development of Plato's own thought, and so on. That this danger is real is forcibly suggested by a remark of Professor Taylor: “To understand a great thinker is, of course, impossible, unless we know something of the relative order of his works and of the actual period of his life to which they belong....We cannot, then, even make a beginning with the study of Plato until we have found some trustworthy indication of the order in which his works, or at least the most significant of them, were written.”. (shrink)

The study of Plato has become involved in so many entanglements of higher criticism that it is difficult even to approach the interpretation of any particular dialogue without bias or preconceptions. A swarm of problems starts up for settlement as a preliminary consideration to the correct understanding of Plato’s aims in writing the dialogue, and there is a danger lest its precise issue and philosophical value may be obscured by discussions about its place in the chronological order of the dialogues, (...) as to whether it expresses the views of Socrates or of Plato, or represents a particular stage in the development of Plato's own thought, and so on. That this danger is real is forcibly suggested by a remark of Professor Taylor: “To understand a great thinker is, of course, impossible, unless we know something of the relative order of his works and of the actual period of his life to which they belong....We cannot, then, even make a beginning with the study of Plato until we have found some trustworthy indication of the order in which his works, or at least the most significant of them, were written.”. (shrink)

The dissertation has two parts. In Part I, I argue that the method of question and answer, that is, dialectic, had its origins not, as Plato and Aristotle might lead us to expect, with Zeno or Socrates, but with the Sophists of the fifth century. They were at the vanguard of a new rationalism that made matters which tradition had regarded as settled, subjects for debate and inquiry. They were committed to a self-consciously rationalistic conception of the arts that (...) held that expertise is a matter of rationally grounded knowledge and hence teachable. ;Of particular importance, especially in democracies, and central to their educational program was the art of rhetoric, that is, the art of rational deliberation and argumentation. It is as part of the instruction in this art that dialectic first emerges. Dialectic is a method subject to specific rules , it provides for at least two roles , and provides criteria for judging who has won a question-and-answer exchange. ;In Part II, I examine Plato's Protagoras. I focus on two sorts of passages: those where the participants seem to be engaged in such a question-and-answer exchange, and those where they comment on what they are doing. Examination of the text leads to the conclusion that both Socrates and Protagoras proceed as if this method of argumentation were antecedently familiar, and Socrates and Protagoras both ask and answer questions in accord with its rules. Thus the difference between Socrates and the Sophists cannot consist in their relying on essentially different methods of argumentation . ;I end by suggesting that if there is a difference between Socrates and the Sophists, it consists in Socrates making explicit what the Sophists had been relying on, though only imperfectly: a commitment to the avoidance of contradictions. (shrink)

Regarding the relation of Plato’s early and middle period dialogues, scholars have been divided to two opposing groups: unitarists and developmentalists. While developmentalists try to prove that there are some noticeable and even fundamental differences between Plato’s early and middle period dialogues, the unitarists assert that there is no essential difference in there. The main goal of this article is to suggest that some of Plato’s ontological as well as epistemological principles change, both radically and fundamentally, between the early and (...) middle period dialogues. Though this is a kind of strengthening the developmentalistic approach corresponding the relation of the early and middle period dialogues, based on the fact that what is to be proved here is a essential development in Plato’ ontology and his epistemology, by expanding the grounds of development to the ontological and epistemological principles, it hints to a more profound development. The fact that the bipolar and split knowledge and being of the early period dialogues give way to the tripartite and bound knowledge and benig of the middle period dialogues indicates the development of the notions of being and knowledge in Plato’s philosophy before the dialogues of the middle period. -/- Keywords Plato; early dialogues; middle dialogues; being; knowledge; development -/- Introduction The differences between two groups of the early and middle period dialogues have always been a matter of dispute. Whereas the developmentalists like Vlastos, Silverman (2002), Teloh (1981), Dancy (2004) and Rickless (2007) think that from the early to the middle dialogues Plato’s philosophy changes, at least in some essential points, the unitarists like Kahn, Cherniss and Shorey believe that there happens no development and the differences must be taken as natural, ignorable and even pedagogic. In his well-known article, Socrates contra Socrates in PLATO, Vlastos lists ten theses of difference between two groups of dialogues. The first group which includes Plato’s early dialogues he divides to 'elenctic' (Apology, Charmides, Crito, Euthyphro, Gorgias, Hippias Minor, Ion, Laches, Protagoras and Republic I) and 'transitional' (Euthydemus, Hippias Major, Lysis, Menexenus and Meno) dialogues. These transitional come after all the elenctic dialogues and before all the dialogues of the second group which compose Plato’s middle period dialogues, including (with Vlastos' chronological order) Cratylus, Phaedo, Symposium, Republic II-X, Phaedrus, Parmenides and Theaetetus (1991, 46-49). Vlastos asserts strictly that his list of differences are 'so diverse in content and method that they contrast as sharply with one another as with any third philosophy you care to mention, beginning with Aristotole’s' (ibid, 46). Vlastos’ list of differences between two Socrateses is considered a view breaking sharply between the early and the middle dialogues. Besides all ten differences between the two Socrateses in Vlastos’ list that can be supportive for our doctrine here, we intend to focus on some ontological as well as epistemological distinctions that have not completely been discussed hitherto. Contrary to the developmentalist theory of Vlastos, unitarian theory of Charles Kahn wishes to eliminate any substantial difference between the early and the middle dialogues. He distinguishes seven 'pre-middle' or 'threshold' dialogues including Laches, Charmides, Euthyphro, Protagoras, Meno, Lysis and Euthydemus from the other Socratic dialogues which he calls 'earliest group' (1996, 41). The threshold dialogues, Kahn thinks, 'embarke upon a sustained project' that is to reach to its climax in the middle period dialogues, namely Phaedo, Symposium and Republic. Believing in that there is no 'fundamental shift'between the early and middle dialogues (ibid, 40), Kahn thinks the Socratic dialogues are just the 'first stage' with a 'deliberate silence' towards the theories of later periods (ibid, 339). One of the reasons of the surprising fact that Plato gives no hint of the metaphysics and epistemology of the Forms in the early dialogues, he thinks, is the pedagogical advantages of aporia. He thinks that Plato 'obscurely', and mostly because of education, hinted to some doctrines and conceptions in his early dialogues and with the aim of clarifying them only in the later ones (ibid, 66). The seven threshold dialogues, Kahn asserts, 'had been designed from the first' to prepare the pupils and readers for the views expounded in the middle period dialogues (ibid, 59-60). To show that the differences of the two Socrateses of the early and middle period dialogue are in their onto-epistemological grounds and thence cannot be explained by a unitaristic view, we try to draw the ontological and epistemological principles of the early dialogues in the first part below in order to show, in the second part, that those principles have been developed in the middle period dialogues. -/- A. The Onto-Epistemologic Principles of the Early Dialogues Socratic dialogues are paradoxical about knowledge because while being knowledge-oriented always searching for knowledge, they deny it and even never discuss it directly. Three elements of Socrates’ way of searching Knowledge throughout the early dialogues, i.e. Socratic 'what is X?' question, his disavowal of knowledge and his elenctic method combined together produce something like a circle which works, more or less, in the same way in these dialogues. Though this circle is an embaressing inquiry always resulting in ignorance instead of knowledge, its motivation is surprisingly Socrates’ passionate enthusiasm for knowledge, an intensive love of wisdom. The starting point of this circle is Socrates’ confession of having no knowledge which might be explicitly asserted or presupposed, maybe because it was one of the famous characteristics of Socrates; a confession always paradoxically accompanied with his intense longing for knowledge (e.g., Gorgias 505e4-5). Every time Socrates encounters with someone who thinks he knows something (οἴεταί τι εἰδέναι) (Apology 21d5) and tries to examine him. This examination seems to be the simplest one asking just what it is that he knows. Socrates’ elenchus, therefore, is always connected with 'what is X?' (τίς ποτέ ἐστιν) question, a question that most of the early dialogues of Plato are concerned with; 'what is courage?' in the Laches, 'what is piety?' in Euthydemus, 'what is temperance?' in Charmides and 'what is beauty?' in Hippias Major. This question we call here 'Socratic question' and probably is the very question the historical Socrates used to employ, is tightly interrelated with both his disavowal and his elenchus. He disclaims knowledge because he cannot find the answer to the question himself and he rejects others’ since they cannot offer the correct answer too. Every interlocutor can claim he knows X, if and only if he can answer the Socratic question. Otherwise, he is more of an ignorant than of a knower of τί ποτέ ἐστι X. Knowing the answer to this question is, thus, knowledge’s criterion for Socrates. Having found out that he cannot answer what it is which he would claim to know, the interlocutor comes to the point Socrates was there at the beginning. The least advantage of this circle is that he becomes as wise as Socrates does about the subject, becoming aware that he does not know it. At the end of the circle they are both still at the beginning, not knowing what X is. So let us first take a glance at these three elements. Socratic disavowal of knowledge is strictly asserted in some passages. At Apology 21b4-5, Socrates says: -/- I do not know of myself being wise at all (οὔτε μέγα οὔτε σμικρὸν σύνοιδα ἐμαυτῷ σοφὸς ὤν) -/- Moreover, at 21d4-6: -/- None of us knows anything worthwhile (καλὸν κἀγαθὸν εἰδέναι) …. I do not know (οἶδα) neither do I think I know. -/- In Charmides Socrates speaks about a fear about his probable mistake of thinking that he knows (εἰδέναι) something when he does not (166d1-2). The somehow generalization of this disavowal can be seen in Gorgias. After calling his disavowal 'an account that is always the same' (509a4-5), Socrates continues (a5-7): -/- I say that I do not know (οἶδα) how these things are, but no one I have ever met, like now, who can say anything else without being absurd. -/- At the end of Hippias Major (304d7-8), Socrates affirms his disavowal of knowledge of 'what is X?' this time about the fine: -/- I do not know (οἶδα) what that is itself (αὐτὸ τοῦτο ὅτι ποτέ ἐστιν). Some other passages, however, made a number of scholars dubious about Socrates’ disavowal. Vlastos mentions Apology 29b6-7 as an evidence : 'that to do wrong and to disobey one’s master, both god and men, I know (οἶδα) to be evil and shameful'. He thinks that if we give this single text 'its full weight' it can suffice to show that Socrates does claim knowledge of a moral truth (1985, 7). Vlastos’ claim is not admittable since it would be too strange, I think, for a man like Socrates to violate his disavowal claim just after emphasizing it. We can see his claim just before the already mentioned passage: -/- And surely it is the most blameworthy ignorance to believe that one knows what one does not know. It is perhaps on this point and in this respect, gentlemen, that I differ from the majority of men and if I were to claim that I am wiser than anyone in anything it world be in this, that, as I have no adequate knowledge (οὐκ εἰδὼς ἱκανῶς) of things in the underworld, so I do not think I have (οὐκ εἰδέναι) (Apology 29b1-6) Vlastos tries to solve what he calls the 'paradox' of Socrates’ disavowal of knowledge distinguishing the 'certain' knowledge from 'elenctic' knowledge (1985, 11) and thinking that when Socrates avows knowledge, we must perceive it as an elenctic knowledge, a knowledge its content 'must be propositions he thinks elenctically justifiable' (ibid, 18). Irwin’s solution is the distinction of knowledge and belief. He approves that Socrates does not 'explicitly' make such a distinction, but still thinks that Socrates’ 'test for knowledge would make it reasonable for him to recognize true belief without knowledge, and his own claims are easily understood if they are claims to true belief alone' (1977, 40). While I agree with Vlastos up to a point, I strongly disagree with Irwin about the early dialogues. As I will try to show below, we are not permitted to consider any kind of distinction within knowledge in Socratic dialogues because only one category of knowledge is alluded to there and the distinction of knowledge and belief thoroughly belongs to the second Sorcates. Although no kind of distinction can be admittable here, I think Vlastos’ distinction can be accepted only if we regard it as a distinction between knowledge, which is unique and without any, even incomparable, rival, and a semi-idiomatic and ordinary one that is a necessary requirement for any argument, and thus, unavoidable even for someone who does not claim any kind of knowledge. An apparent evidence of this is Gorgias 505e6-506a4: -/- I go through the discussion as I think it is (ὡς ἄν μοι δοκῇ ἔχειν), if any of you do not agree with admissions I am making to myself, you must object and refute me. For I do not say what I say as I know (οὐδὲ γάρ τοι ἔγωγε εἰδὼς λέγω ἃ λέγω) but as searching jointly with you (ζητῶ κοινῇ μεθ᾽ ὑμῶν). -/- The minimal degree of knowledge everyone must have to take part in an argument, conduct it and use the phrase "I know" when it is necessary is what Socrates cannot deny. We can call it elenctic knowledge only if we agree that it is not the kind of knowledge that Socrates has always been searching, the one that can be accepted as the answer of Socratic 'what is X?' question. His disavowal of knowledge is applied only to the knowledge which can truly be the answer of Socratic question and pass the elenctic exam; a knowledge that, I believe, is never claimed by first Socrates. Socrates conducts his method of examining his interlocutors’ knowledge, our second element here, by almost the same method repeated in Socratic dialogues. That whether we are allowed to regard all the examinations of Socrates in the early dialogues as based on the same or not has been a matter of dispute. Vlastos himself (1994, 31) distinguished Euthydemas, Lysis, Menexenns and Hippias Major from the other Socratic dialogues because he thinks Socrates has lost his faith to elenchus in there. Irwin (1977, 38) distinguishes Apology and Crito where Socrates’ own convictions is present. Contrary to some scholars like Benson (2002, 107) who take elenchus in all the Socratic dialogues as a unique method, Michelle Carpenter and Ronald M. Polansky (2002, 89-100) argue pro the variety of methods of elenchus. Thomas C. Brickhouse and Nicholas D. Smith (2002, 145-160) even reject such a thing as Socratic elenchus which can gather all of the Socrates’ various arguments under such a heading. There can be no solution for the problem of elenchus, they think, is due to 'the simple reason that there is no such thing as 'the Socratic elenchos"'(p.147). Though we consider elenchus a somehow determined process and a part of Socratic circle in the early dialogues, all we assume is that whatever differences it might have in different dialogues, it has the same onto-epistemological principles and, thus, we are not going to take it necessarily as a unique method. This method sets out to prove that the interlocutors are as ignorant as Socrates himself is. That whether elenchus is constructive, capable of establishing doctrines as Vlastos (1994) or Brickhouse and Smith (1994, 20-21) believe or not is another issue to which this paper is not to claim anything. What is crucial for our discussion here is that elenchus does not reach to the very knowledge Socrates is looking for. This is strictly against Irwin who thinks that not only elenchus leads to positive results, 'it should even yield knowledge to match Socrates’ conditions'(1977, 68, cf. 48). He does not explain where and how they really yield to that kind of knowledge. He explains his elenctic method in his apology in the court (Apology 21-22), that how he used to examine wise men, politicians, poets and all those who had the highest reputation for their knowledge and every time found that they have no knowledge. If we accept, as I strongly do, that Socrates’ disavowal of his knowledge is not irony, it might seem more reasonable to agree that the process that has that disavowal as its first step cannot be irony as well. The key of the circle which can explain why Socrates disclaims knowledge and how he can reject others’ claim of having any kind of knowledge lies in the third element, Socratic question. In Hippias Major (287c1-2), Socrates asks: 'Is it not by Justice that just people are Just? (ἆρ᾽ οὐ δικαιοσύνῃ δίκαιοί εἰσιν οἱ δίκαιοι). He insists at 294b1 that they were searching for that by which (ᾧ) all beautiful things are beautiful (cf. b4-5, 8). At Euthyphro 6d10-11 it is said that the Socratic question is waiting for 'the form itself (αὐτὸ τὸ εἶδος) by which (ᾧ) all the pious actions are pious; and at 6d11-e1: -/- Through one form (που μιᾷ ἰδέᾳ) impious actions are impious and pious actions pious. -/- Since the X itself is that by which X is X, knowing 'X itself' is the only way of knowing X. It is probably because of this that Socrates makes the distinction between the ousia as a right answer to the question and effect as a wrong one: -/- I am afraid, Euthyphro, that when you were asked what piety is (τὸ ὅσιον ὅτι ποτ᾽ ἐστίν) you did not wish to make clear its nature itself (οὐσίαν … αὐτοῦ) to me, but you said some effect (πάθος) about it. (Euthp. 11a6-9) -/- 1. Knowledge of what X is Now it is time to look for the onto-epistemological principles of Socratic circle and its three elements. It cannot reasonably be expected from the first Socrates to present us explicitly and clearly formulated principles of his onto-epistemology when such explications cannot be found even in the second Socrates who has some obviously positive theoris. Since there must be some principles underlying this first systematic inqury of knowledge, we must seek to them and be satisfied with elicitation of the first Socratas’ principle. What will be drawn out as his principles cannot and must not, thus, be taken as very fix and dogmatic principles. Some very slightest principles and grounds suffice for our purposes here. The first principle that is the prima facie significance of the Socratic question and his implementation of all those elenctic arguments I call the principle of 'Knowledge of What X is' (KWX): -/- KWX To know X, it is required to know what X is. -/- Aristotle (Metaphysics 1078b23-25, 27-29, 987b4-8) takes Plato’s τί ἐστι question as seeking the definition of a thing that is the same as historical Socrates’ search but applying to a different field. That Plato’s 'what is X?' question was a search for definition became the prevailed understanding of this question up to now. I am going neither to discuss the answer of Socratic question nor to challenge taking it as definition. What I am to insist is that knowledge is attached firmly to the answer of the question: Knowledge of X is not anything but the knowledge of what X is. It entails, certainly, the priority of this knowledge to any other kind of knowledge about X but it also has something more fundamental about the relation of knowledge and Socratic question. Socrates’ exclusive focus on the answer of his question can authorize the consideration of such an essential role for KWX in his epistemolgoy. The total rejection of his interlocutors’ knowledge when they are unable to answer the question can be regarded as a strong evidence for it. Socrates’ elenctic method and his rejection of others’ knowledge in the early dialogues, which all end aporetically with no one accepted as knower and nothing as knowledge, prevent us from finding any positive evidence for this. We have to be content, therefore, of negative evidences which, I think, can be found wherever Socrates rejects his interlocutors’ knowledge when they are not able to give an acceptable answer to his 'what is X?' question. 2. Bipolar Epistemology Socrates’ rejection of his interlocutors’ knowledge has another epistemological principle as its basis. Let me call this principle Bipolar Epistemology' (BE): BE There is no third way besides knowledge and Ignorance. -/- BE says that about every object of knowledge there are only two subjective statuses: knowledge and Ignorance. Socrates’ disavowal, however, says nothing but that he is ignorant of knowledge of X because he does not know what X is. This means that BE is presupposed here. Socrates’ elenchus and his rejection of interlocutors’ having any kind of knowledge are the necessary results of the fact that he does not let any third way besides knowledge and ignorance. The first Socrates never let anyone partly know X or have a true opinion about it, as he would not let anyone know anything about X when he did not know what X is. -/- 3. Bipolar Ontology The principle of BE in first Socrates’ epistemology is parallel to another principle in his ontology. Plato’s bipolar distinction between being and not being is as strict and perfect as his distinction between knowledge and ignorance. This principle I shall call the principle of 'Bipolar Ontology' (BO): BO Being is and not being is not. BO is apparently the same with the well-known Parmenidean Principle of being and not being (cf. Diels-Kranz (DK) Fr. 2.2-5). Euthydemus’ statement against the possibility of false knowledge can be good evidence for this principle: -/- The things which are not surely do not exist (τὰ δὲ μὴ ὄντα … ἄλλο τι ἢ οὐκ ἔστιν). (Euthydemus 284b3-4) -/- He continues (b4-5): -/- There is nowhere for not being to be there (οὖν οὐδαμοῦ τά γε μὴ ὄντα ὄντα ἐστίν). -/- That BE does not let true opinion as a third option besides knowledge and ignorance seems to be related to BO’s rejecting a third option besides being and not being, which is itself the basis of the impossibility of false belief. Socrates’ elaborate discussion of the problem of false belief in Theatetus that leads to a more decisive discussion and finally to some solutions in Sophist can make our consideration of BO for the first group of dialogues authentive. -/- 4. &5. Split Knowledge and Split Being The fourth principle I shall call the principle of 'Split Knowledge' (SK): -/- SK Knowledge of X is separated from any other knowledge (of anything else) as if the whole knowledge is split to various parts. -/- This Principle is hinted and criticized as Socrates’ way of treating with knowledge in Hippias Major: -/- But Socrates, you do not contemplate the entireties of things, nor do people you have used to talk with (τὰ μὲν ὅλα τῶν πραγμάτων οὐ σκοπεῖς, οὐδ᾽ ἐκεῖνοι οἷς σὺ εἴωθας διαλέγεσθαι). (301b2-4) -/- Contrary to Rankin who regards the passage as 'antilogical, almost eristic in tone rather than presenting a serious philosophy of being' (1983, 54), I think it can be taken as serious. Hippias criticizes Sorcates that he does not contemplate (σκοπεῖς) the entireties of things (ὅλα τῶν πραγμάτων), a critique which Socrates is not its only subject but all those whom Socrates accustomed to talk with (ἐκεῖνοι οἷς σὺ εἴωθας διαλέγεσθαι). This last phrase, I think, extends this critic beyond this dialogue to other Socratic dialogues. Hippias’ use of the perfect tense of the verb ἔθω (to be accustomed) is a good evidence of this extension. We can get, thus, these ἐκεῖνοι as Socrates’ interlocutors in his other dialogues that hints that this criticism has the epistemological groundings of the previous dialogues as its subject. What ἐκεῖνοι οἷς σὺ εἴωθας διαλέγεσθαι points to is that Hippias does not have in mind Socrates’ way of treating things only in this dialogue, but he is also criticizing Socrates’ way throughout his dialogues. At 301b4-5, Socrates and his interlocutors’ way of beholding things is described as such: -/- You people knock (κρούετε) at the fine and each of the beings (ἕκαστον τῶν ὄντων) by taking each being cut up in pieces (κατατέμνοντες) in words (ἐν τοῖς λόγοις). This leads us to our next principle that is parallel to, and the ontological side of, SK, the principle of 'Split Being'(SB): -/- SB Everything (being) is separated from any other thing as if the whole being is split to many beings. -/- Socrates and his interlocutors and thus, as we saw, the Socratic dialogues are accused to regard everything as it is separated from all other things. This separation is en tois logois that, I think, can reasonably be taken as saying that Socratic dialogues (it refers of course to the dialogues before Hippias Major) cut up all things which have the same name/definition from all other things and try to understand them separately, without considering other things that are not in their logos. They, for example in Hippias Major, are cutting up to kalon and try to understand what it and all others inside this logos are by separating it from all other things. This is directed straightly against Socratic question and the way Socratic dialogues follow to find its answer, every time separating one logos. As Meyer (1995, 85) points out, every question 'presupposes that the X in question in a logos is something' and 'every answer to every question aims at unity' (84). The critique of Hippias Major is, therefore, at the same time a critique of SK and SB. It is also a critique of KWX because it is only based on KWX that Socratic dialogues could search for the answer of 'what is X' question supposing that knowing what X is is enough for the knowledge of X. SK and KWX are absolutely interdependent. What Socrates and all his previous interlocutors have neglected in Socratic dialogues, Hippias says, was 'continuous bodies of being' (διανεκῆ σώματα τῆς οὐσίας) (301b6). Either this theory actually belongs to the historical Hippias as it is being said or not, it is strictly criticizing SB. We have the same phrase with changing sūma to logos some lines later at 301e3-4: διανεκεῖ λόγῳ τῆς οὐσίας. Although this theory that can be observed as both an ontological and an epistemological theory is rejected by Socrates (301cff.), it is still against first Socrates’ onto-epistemological principles and might let us look at what is rejected as Socratic prineple. -/- 6. Knowledge is of Being The sixth principle that I think is presupposed by the first Socrates, is the 'Knowledge of Being' Principle (KB): -/- KB Knowledge is of Being. -/- This principle is obviously the source of the problem of false knowledge, a very important problem throughout Plato’s philosophy. We face this problem maybe for the first time in Euthydemus. In less than 20 Stephanus’ pages, 276-295, we are encountered with different interwoven problems about knowledge , all grounded in the problem of false opinion. Having challenged the obvious possibility of telling lies at 283e, at 284 Euthydemus discusses it saying that the man who speaks is speaking about 'one of those things that are (ἓν μὴν κἀκεῖνό γ᾽ ἐστὶν τῶν ὄντων)' (284a3) and thus speaks what is (λέγων τὸ ὄν) (a5). He must necessarily be saying truth when he is speaking what is because he who speaks what is (τὸ ὄν) and the things that are (τὰ ὄντα) speaks truth (τἀληθῆ λέγει) (a5-6). This is based on Parmenidean principle of the impossibility of being of not being which Euthydemus restates (284b3-4) and we mentioned discussing BO principle above. The things that are not are nowhere (οὐδαμοῦ) and there is no possibility for anyone to do (πράξειεν) anything with them because they must be made as being before anything else can be done, which is impossible (b5-7). The words, then, are of things that exist (εἰσὶν ἑκάστῳ τῶν ὄντων λόγοι) (285e9) and as they are (ὡς ἔστιν) (e10). The result is that no one can speak of things as they are not. It is this impossibility of false speach that is extended to thinking (δοξάζειν) at 286d1 and leads to the impossibility of false opinion (ψευδής … δόξα) (286d4). The general conclusion is asserted at 287a extending this impossibility to actions and making any kind of mistake. Not only knowledge is of being but speech, thought and action are of being simply because of the fact that nothing can be of not being. -/- B. First Socrates’ Principles in the Middle Period Dialogues Out of what were presupposed or criticized mostly in five dialogues, Euthyphro, Euthydemus, Hippias Major, Laches and Charmides, we tried to draw the first Socrates’ principles. Our inquiry here is directed to find out the fate of these principles in the three dialogues of the middle period, Meno, Phaedo and Republic. To do this, first we ought to check the situation of Socratic circle in these dialogues. The Socratic circle that was predominant in the early dialogues, does not look like a circle here anymore though they certainly have some features in common. Meno, Phaedo and Republic II-X are not committed to the principles of the circle and the whole circle in disrupted in them. The difference of the two Socrateses towards acquiring knowledge is obvious. The Socrates of Meno, Phaedo and Republic is evidently more self-confident that he can get to some truths during his arguments as he does. They are in their first appearance, as almost all other dialogues, committed to Socrates’ disavowal. All of them try to keep the shape of the Socratikoi Logoi genre, which is committed to the historical Socrates’ way of discussion; a dramatic personage who is to challenge his interlocutors, ask them and refuse the answers. Nevertheless, the fact is that what we have in common between two groups of dialogues is mostly a dramatic structure. Whereas the first group’s arguments are based on Socrates’ disavowal and lead to no positive results, the second group is decisively going to achieve some positive results. The aim of the first Socrates was to show others that they are ignorant of what they thought they knew. The new Socrates of Meno, on the opposite, makes so much efforts to show that the slave boy has within himself true opinions (ἀληθεῖς δόξαι) about the things that he does not know (οἶδε) (85c6-7). Despite his lack of knowledge, he has true opinions nevertheless. The way from these true opinions to knowledge, as Socrates states, is not so long. These true opinions are now like a dream but 'can become knowledge of the same things not less accurate than anyone’s' (οὐδενὸς ἧττον ἀκριβῶς ἐπιστήσεται περὶ τούτων) (c11-d1), if they be repeated by asking the same questions. The most outstanding text regarding Socrates’ disavowal is Meno 98b where he explicitly claims knowledge: -/- And indeed I also speak as (ὡς) one who does not know (εἰδὼς) but is guessing (εἰκάζων). However, [about the fact] that true opinion and knowledge are different, I do not altogether expect (δοκῶ) myself to be guessing (εἰκάζειν), but if I say about anything that I know (εἰδέναι) -which about few things I say- this is one of the things that I know (οἶδα). (98b1-5) This passage is very significant about Plato’s disavowal of knowledge. There can hardly be found, I think, anywhere else in Plato’s corpus where Socrates speaks about his knowledge of something as such. He says first that he speaks as someone who does not know. This ὡς οὐκ εἰδὼς λέγω comparing with what he used to say in the first group, οὐκ οἶδα, has this added ὡς. Socrates does not claim strongly anymore that he does not know anything but speaks only as someone who does not know. He needs this ὡς not only because he is going to accept that he does know some, though few, things immediately after this sentence, but also because he needs his previous disavowal to be loosened from Meno on. He does not merely say here that he knows something. It is then different from the examples mentioned before which could be taken as idiomatic or at least not emphatic. Socrates’ remarkable emphasis on distinguishing εἰδέναι from εἰκάζειν departs it from all other passages where he says only he knows something. Moreover, he claims definitely that he has knowledge about few (ὀλίγα) things. From the early to the middle dialogues, Socrates’ attitude to knowledge has totally renewed its face. He brings forth a new concept, true opinion, and he does not speak of knowledge as he used to before; the rough, perfect and unachievable knowledge of the first group has turned to something more smooth, realistic and achievable. Comparing with the early dialogues that did not set out from the first to reach positive results, the middle ones are extraordinarily and surprisingly positive and hence destroy the basis of the Socratic circle. The questions and answers are purposely directed to some specific new theories; most of them are not directly related to the topics or the main questions of the dialogues. They are suggested when Socrates draws the attention of the interlocutor away from the main question because of the necessity of another discussion. Even if the main question remains unanswered, we have still many positive theories, prominently of metaphysical type. These theories are so abundant and dominant in these dialogues, especially Phaedo and Republic, that one might think that they may appear to be arbitrarily sandwiched in there. This helps dialogues to keep their original Socratic structure while they are suggesting new theories. Hence, the Socratic question of 'what is X?', though is still used to launch the discussion, is loosened and is forgotten for most part of the dialogues. Meno that has first a differently formulated question, 'can virtue be taught?', leads finally to the Socratic question of 'What is virtue?'. Phaedo is dedicated to the demonstration of the immortality of soul and the life after death without having a central Socratic question. The case of Republic is more complicated. The first book, on the one hand, has all the criteria of a Socratic circle: its 'what is justice?' question, Socrates’ strong disavowal (e.g. 337d-e), his rejection of all answers and coming back to the first point without finding out any answer. This Book, considered alone, is a perfect Socratic dialogue, as many scholars regard it as early and separated from other books. The books II-X are, on the other hand, far from implementing a Socratic circle. They have still the 'what is justice?' question as their incentive leading question, but they are, in most of the positive doctrines and methods that encompass the main parts, ignoring the question. Even these books that, I believe, are the farthest discussions from the Socratic circle are so cautious not to break the Socratic structure of the dialogue as long as it is possible. What is changed is not the structure of the dialogue but the ontological and epistemological grounds based on which new theories are suggested. -/- 1. Knowledge of the Good We can clearly see in the second group of dialogues that the KWX principle loses the place it had before in our first group. It is not, of course, rejected, but still we cannot say that it has the same situation. KWX that was based on Socratic question, as we discussed before, was the leading principle of the first Socrates’ epistemology and of the highest position. Other epistemological principles, SK directly and BE indirectly, were relying on Socratic question and therefore on KWX. Such a position does not belong to KWX from Meno on. What makes it different in the second Socrates is another principle that is needed it not only as its complementary principle but also as what is more fundamental. Plato, then, does not reject KWX in this period, but, it seems, he transcends to another more basic principle; a principle we shall call the principle of 'Knowledge of the Good' (KG): -/- KG Knowledge of X requires knowledge of the Good. -/- Whereas all the dialogues of our first group are free from any discuscon about KG, it bears a very important role in the second group so as becomes the superior principle of knowledge in Republic. Trying to solve the problem of teachability of virtue, Socrates says that it can be teachable only if it is a kind of knowledge because nothing can be taught to human beings but knowledge (ἐπιστήμην) (Meno 87c2). The dilemma will be, then, whether virtue is knowledge or not (c11-12) and since virtue is good, we can change the question to: whether is there anything good separate from knowledge (εἰ μέν τί ἐστιν ἀγαθὸν καὶ ἄλλο χωριζόμενον ἐπιστήμης) (d4-5). Therefore, the conclusion will be that if there is nothing good which knowledge does not encompass, virtue can be nothing but knowledge (d6-8). What let us discuss KG as an epistemological principle for the second Secrates is the relation he tries to establish between knowledge and the Good which, though is alongside with the mentioned thesis and the idea of virtue as knowledge, goes much deeper inside epistemology asking to regard the Good as the basis of knowledge. The effort of Phaedo cannot succeed in establishing the Good as the criterion of explanation and knowledge since, I think, it needs a far more complicated ontology of Republic where Socrates can finally announce KG. What is said in Republic is totally compatible with Phaedo 99d–e and the metaphor of watching an eclipse of the sun. In spite of the fact that we do not have adequate knowledge of the Idea of the Good, it is necessary for every kind of knowledge: 'If we do not know it, even if we know all other things, it is of no benefit to us without it' (505a6-7). The problem of our not having sufficient knowledge of the Idea of Good is tried to be solved by the same method of Phaedo 99d-e, that is to say, by looking at what is like instead of looking at thing itself (506d8-e4). It is this solution that leads to the comparison of the Good with sun in the allegory of Sun (508b12-13). What the Good is in the intelligible realm corresponds to what the sun is in the visible realm; as sun is not sight, but is its cause and is seen by it (b9-10), the Good is so regarding knowledge. It has, then, the same role for knowledge that the sun has for sight. Socrates draws our attention to the function of sun in our seeing. The eyes can see everything only in the light of the day being unable to see the same things in the gloom of night (508c4-6). Without the sun, our eyes are dimmed and blind as if they do not have clear vision any longer (c6-7). That the Good must have the same role about knowledge based on the analogy means that it must be considered as a required condition of any kind of knowledge: -/- The soul, then, thinks (νόει) in the same way: whenever it focuses on what is shined upon by truth and being, understands (ἐνόησέν), knows (ἔγνω) and apparently possesses understanding (νοῦν ἔχειν). (508d4-6) -/- Socrates does not use agathon in this paragraph and substitutes it with both aletheia and to on. He links them with the Idea of the Good when he is to assert the conclusion of the analogy: -/- That which gives truth to the objects of knowledge and the power of knowing to the knower, you must say, is the Idea of the Good: being the cause of knowledge and truth (αἰτίαν δ᾽ ἐπιστήμης οὖσαν καὶ ἀληθείας) so far as it is known (ὡς γιγνωσκομένης μὲν διανοοῦ). (508e1-4) Knowledge and truth are called goodlike (ἀγαθοειδῆ) since they are not the same as the Good but more honoured (508e6-509a5). KG, which had been implicitly contemplated and searched in Phaedo, is now explicitly being asserted in Republic. As what was quoted clearly proves, this principle is the very one which we can observe as the most fundamental principle of the second Socrates in Republic, corresponding to the role KWX had in the first Socrates. The Form of the Good in Republic, of which Santas speaks as 'the centerpiece of the canonical Platonism of the middle dialogues, the centerpiece of Plato’s metaphysics, epistemology, ethics and …' (1983, 256) much more can be said. Plato’s Cave allegory in Book VIII dedicates a similar role to the Idea of the Good. The Idea of the Good is there as the last thing to be seen in the knowable realm, something so important that its seeing equals to understanding the fact that it is the cause of all that is correct and beautiful (517b). Producing both light and its source in visible realm, it controls and provides truth and understanding in the intelligible realm (517c). -/- 2. Tripartite Epistemology BE is thoroughy rejected in the second Socrates and substituted by its opposite, the principle of 'Tripartite Epistemolgy' (TE): -/- TE Opinion is an epistemological status between knowledge and ignorance. BE of the first Socrates was denying any third way besides knowledge and ignorance which was the foundation of Socratic circle without which Socrates could not reject his interlocutors’ possessing any kind of knowledge. We cannot say, however, that the first Socrates had a third epistemological status in mind but rejected it. Such a status was unacceptable for him so that one can say that he would reject any kind of such status if suggested. There were only two possibilities about knowledge: either one knows something or he does not know it. TE, thus, was not the first Socrates’ discovery and, I think it is not the second Socrates’discovery. All we can see in our second group of dialouges is that he uses this principle as an already demonstrated one. Having examined the slave boy in Meno for the prupose of showing the working of recollection, it truns out that he has some opinions in him while he still does not know. Without trying to prove it, Socrates takes this as the distinction between knowledge and opinion: -/- So, he who does not know (οὐκ εἰδότι) about what he does not know (περὶ ὧν ἂν μὴ εἰδῇ) has within himself true opinions (ἀληθεῖς δόξαι) about the same things he did not know (περὶ τούτων ὧν οὐκ οἶδε) (85c6-7). -/- The same distinction is set between ὀρθὴν δόξαν and ἐπιστήμην at 97b5-6 ff. (also cf. 97b1-2: ὀρθῶς μὲν δοξάζων … ἐπιστάμενος). He connects then their difference to the myth of Daedalus, the statue that would run away and escape. So are true opinions, not willing to remain long in mind and thus not worthy until one ties them down by αἰτίας λογισμῷ (98a3-4). Socrates says that this tying down is anamnesis. We face, in Phaedo, the same relation is settled between knowledge as the process of being tied down and getting the capability to give an account, on the one hand, and anamnesis, on the other hand. When a man knows, he must be able to give an account of what he knows (Phaedo 76b5-6) and since not all people are able to give such an account, those who recollect, recollect what once they learned (76c4). Although the distinction between knowledge and opinion is not explicitly used in Phaedo, referring to the parallel link between knowledge plus account and anamnesis in Phaedo and Meno, one can say that those who cannot recollect are not able to give account and, thus, are in a state of opinion. What is said at Phaedo 84a, though not yet a definite distinction between knowledge and opinion, makes a distinction between their objects so as we can agree that it is presupposed. The soul of the philosopher, Socrates says, follows reason, stays with it forever and contemplates the divine, which is not the object of opinoin (ἀδόξαστον) (84a8, cf. Meno 98b2-5). The distinction of knowledge and belief in Republic has a significant difference with what we discussed in Meno and Phaedo since the distinction of Meno was based on anamnesis and thus more an epistemological distinction. Even in Phaedo that we do not have any elaborate discussion about the distinction, the only hint to the matter at 76 is bound to the theory of anamnesis. In addition to the relation of the distinction with this theory, there is another evidence that does not permit us to consider the distinction as an ontological distinction. Let’s see Meno 85c6-7: -/- So, he who does not know about what he does not know has within himself true opinions about the same things he did not know (τῷ οὐκ εἰδότι ἄρα περὶ ὧν ἂν μὴ εἰδῇ ἔνεισιν ἀληθεῖς δόξαι περὶ τούτων ὧν οὐκ οἶδε). (85c6-7) -/- This last sentence persists that the objects of knowledge and true opinion are the same. What Socrates is to say here is that whereas he does not know X he has true opinion about the same X. I think Socrates’ sentence that the slave boy οὐκ εἰδότι ἄρα περὶ ὧν ἂν μὴ εἰδῇ and his restatement of it by saying περὶ τούτων ὧν οὐκ οἶδε is because he wants to emphasize that the slave boy who does not know, has true opinion about the same thing. Socrates could say this just with using τούτων and there would be no necessity to bring περὶ ὧν ἂν μὴ εἰδῇ for οὐκ εἰδότι if he did not want to emphasize. -/- 3. Tripartite Ontology The distinction between knowledge and true opinion in Republic, on other side, has nothing to do with recollection, but is based on an ontological principle, 'Tripartite Ontology' (TO): -/- TO There are things that both are and are not. -/- This principle I confine, among our three dialogues of the second group, to Republic not extended to Meno and Phaedo, is obviously the opposite of BO. Speaking about the lovers of sights and sounds in the fifth book, Socrates distinguishes them from philosophers because their thought is unable to understand the nature of beautiful itself besides beautiful things (476a6-8) and hence they can only have opinions. The philosopher who, on the contrary, believes in beautiful itself and can distinguish it from beautiful things (476c9-d3), has knowledge because he knows, contrasting others who have opinion because they only opine (d5-6). Since those whose knowledge were degraded as opinion will complain about Socrates’ such calling their thought, he provides them the following argument (476e7-477b1): -/- - Does the person who knows, knows (γιγνώσκει) something (τὶ) or nothing (οὐδέν)? - He knows something (τί). - Something that is (ὂν) or is not (οὐκ ὄν)? - Something that is (ὂν) for how could something that is not be known (πῶς γὰρ ἂν μὴ ὄν γέ τι γνωσθείη)? - Then we have an adequate grasp of this: No matter how many ways we examine it, what completely is (παντελῶς ὂν) is completely knowable (παντελῶς γνωστόν) and what is in no way (μὴ ὂν δὲ μηδαμῇ) is in every way unknowable (πάντῃ ἄγνωστον). - A most adequate one. - Good. Now, if anything is such as to be and also not to be (ὡς εἶναί τε καὶ μὴ εἶναι), won’t it be intermediate (μεταξὺ) between what purely is (εἰλικρινῶς ὄντος) and what in no way is (μηδαμῇ ὄντος)? - Yes, it’s intermediate. - Then as knowledge (γνῶσις) is set over what is (τῷ ὄντι), while ignorance (ἀγνωσία) is of necessity set over what is not (μὴ ὄντι) mustn’t we find an intermediate between ignorance (ἀγνοίας) and knowledge (ἐπιστήμης) to be set over the intermediate, if there is such a thing? -/- From the third status of being we must reach to the third status of knowledge. The simple reading of this text can be an existential reading, taking the "is" of the mentioned sentences as existence. The problem is that when it is said that there is something that both is and is not reading "is" existentially, it sounds too bizarre to be acceptable. It cannot easily be understandable to have something as both existent and non-existent at the same time. This problem arose so many debates and led many scholars to reject the existential reading of "is" and suggest some other readings like predicative or veridical readings. I think though Plato’s complicated ontology of Republic cannot be correctly understood by a simple existential reading, this "is" cannot be free from existential sense of being and, thus, cannot be reduced to just a predicative or veridical sense of being. -/- 4. Bound Knowledges In addition to KG, the Good is also the basis of another principle in the second Socrates, namely the principle of 'Bound Knowledge' (BK): -/- BK Knowledge of everything is bound to the knowledge of the Good. -/- We distinguished BK from KG because we want to insist, in BK, on what had not been insisted upon in KG, that is, the binding role that the Good plays in the second Socrates, contrasting the absence of such a role in the first Socrates. Socrates remembers, in Phaedo, his wonderful keen on natural philosophers' wisdom when he was young. The origin of this enthusiasm was Socrates’ hope to know the cause of everything as they used to claim. When he was searching the matters of his interest on their basis, Socrates says, he became convinced he can get no acceptable answer from them and found himself blind even to the things he thought he knew before. One day he hears Anaxagoras’ theory that 'it is Mind that arranges and is the cause of everything (ὡς ἄρα νοῦς ἐστιν ὁ διακοσμῶν τε καὶ πάντων αἴτιος)' (Phd. 97c1-2 cf. DK, Fr.15.8-9, 11-12, 12-14) and thinks that he can finally find what he has always expected, i.e. something which can explain all things. What I intend to show here is that what makes Socrates hopeful is that Anaxagoras’ theory tries 1) to explain all things by one thing and 2) this explanation is understood by Socrates as if it is based on the concept of the Good. That Socrates was searching for one explanation for all things can be proved even from what he has been expecting from natural philosophers. The case is, nonetheless, more clearly asserted when he speaks about Anaxagoras’ theory. In addition to διακοσμῶν τε καὶ πάντων αἴτιος of 97c2 mentioned above, we have τὸ τὸν νοῦν εἶναι πάντων αἴτιον (c3-4) and τόν γε νοῦν κοσμοῦντα πάντα κοσμεῖν (c4-5) all emphasizing on the cause of all things (πάντα) which can clearly prove that one of the reasons which caused Socrates to embrace it delightfully was its claim to provide the cause of all things by one thing. Another reason was that Anaxagoras’ Mind, at least in Socrates’ view, was attempting to explain everything by the concept of the Good. This connection between Mind and Good belongs more to the essential relation they have in Socrates’ thinking than Anaxagoras’ theory because there are almost nothing about such a relation in Anaxagoras. The reason for Socrates’ reading can be that Mind is substantially compatible with Socrates’ idea of the relation between good and knowledge. Both the thesis 'no one does wrong willingly' and the theory of virtue as knowledge we pointed to above are evidences of this essential relation. Nobody who knows that something is bad can choose or do it as bad. The reason, when it is reason, that means when it is as it should be, when it is wise or when it knows, works only based on good-choosing. In this context, when Socrates hears that Mind is considered as the cause of everything, it sounds to him like this: good should be regarded as the basis of the explanation of all things. We see him, thus, passing from the former to the latter without any proof. This is done in the second sentence after introducing Mind: -/- I thought that if this were so, the arranging Mind would arrange all things and put each thing in the way that was Best (ὅπῃ ἂν βέλτιστα ἔχῃ). If one then wished to find the cause of each thing by which it either perishes or exists, one needs to find what is the best way (βέλτιστον αὐτῷ ἐστιν) for it to be, or to be acted upon, or to act. On these premises then it befitted a man to investigate only, about this and other things, what is the most excellent (ἄριστον) and best (βέλτιστον). The same man must inevitably also know what is worse (χεῖρον), for that is part of the same knowledge. (97c4-d5) This passage is a good evidence of Socrates’ leap from Anaxagoras’ Mind to his own concept of the Good that can explain why Socrates found Anaxagoras theory after his own heart (97d7). Mind is welcomed because of its capability for explanation on the basis of good to 'explain why it is so of necessity, saying which is better (ἄμεινον), and that it was better (ἄμεινον) to be so' (97e1-3). What Socrates thought he had found in Anaxagoras can indicate what he had been expecting from natural scientists before. Socrates could not be satisfied with their explanations because they were unable to explain how it is the best for everything to be as it is. It can probably be said, then, that it was the lack of the unifying Good in their explanation that had disappointed him. We must insist that we are discussing what Socrates thought that Anaxagoras’ theory of Mind should have been, not about Anaxagoras’ actual way of using Mind. Phaedo 97c-98b, is not about what Socrates found in Anaxagoras but what he thought he could find in it. On the contrary, it should also be noted that it was not this that was dashed at 98b, but Anaxagoras’ actual way of using Mind. It was Anaxagoras’ fault not to find out how to use such an excellent thesis (98b8-c2, cf. 98e-99b). Socrates gives an example to show how not believing in 'good' as the basis of explanation makes people be wanderers between different unreal explanations of a thing. His words δέον συνδεῖν (binding that binds together) as a description for the Good we chose as the name of BK principle: They do not believe that the truly good and binding binds and holds them together (ὡς ἀληθῶς τὸ ἀγαθὸν καὶ δέον συνδεῖν καὶ συνέχειν οὐδὲν οἴονται). (99c5-6) -/- Having in mind Plato’s well-known analogy of the sun and the Good at Republic 508-509, we can dare to say that his warning of the danger of seeing the truth directly like one watching an eclipse of the sun in Phaedo (99d-e) is more about the difficulty of so-called good-based explanation than its insufficiency, a difficulty which is precisely confirmed in Republic (504e-505a, 506d-e). Moreover, BK is asserted in a more explicit way in the Republic, where the Good is considered not only as a condition for the knowledge of X, as was noted above discussing KG, but also as what binds all the objects of knowledge and also the soul in its knowing them. At Republic VI, 508e1-3, when Socrates says that the Form of the Good 'gives truth to the things known and the power to know to the knower (τοῦτο τοίνυν τὸ τὴν ἀλήθειαν παρέχον τοῖς γιγνωσκομένοις καὶ τῷ γιγνώσκοντι τὴν δύναμιν ἀποδιδὸν)', he wants to set the Good at the highest point of his epistemological structure by which all the elements of this structure are bound. This binding aspect of the Good is by no means a simple binding of all knowledges or all the objects of knowledge, but the most complicated kind of binding as it is expected from the author of the Republic. The kind of unity the Good gives to the different knowledges of different things is comparable with the unity which each Form gives to its participants in Republic: as all the participants of a Form are united by referring to the ideas, all different kinds of knowledge are united by referring to the Good. If we observe Aristotle's assertion that for Plato and the believers of Forms, the causative relation of the One with the Forms is the same as that of the Forms with particulars (e.g. Metaphysics 988a10-11, 988b4), that is to say the One is the essence (e.g., ibid, 988a10-11: τοῦ τί ἐστὶν, 988b4-6: τὸ τί ἢν εἶναί) of the Forms besides his statement that for them One is the Good (e.g., ibid, 988b11-13) the relation between the Good and unity may become more understandable. Since the quiddity of the Good (τί ποτ᾽ ἐστὶ τἀγαθὸν) is more than discussion (506d8-e2), we cannot await Socrates to tell us how this binding role is played. All we can expect is to hear from him an analogy by which this unifying role is envisaged, the sun. The kind of unity that the Good gives to the knowledge and its objects in the intelligible realm is comparable to the unity that the sun gives to the sight and its objects in the visible realm (508b-c). The allegory of Line (Republic VI, 509d-511), like that of the Sun, tries to bind all various kinds of knowledges. The hierarchical model of the Line which encompasses all kinds of knowledge from imagination to understanding can clearly be considered as Plato’s effort to bind all kinds of knowledges by a certain unhypothetical principle. The method of hypothesis starts, in the first subsection of the intelligible realm, with a hypothesis that is not directed firstly to a principle but a conclusion (510b4-6). It proceeds, in the other subsection, to a 'principle which is not a hypothesis' (b7) and is called the 'unhypothetical principle of all things' (ἀνυποθέτου ἐπὶ τὴν τοῦ παντὸς ἀρχὴν) (511b6-7). This παντὸς must refer not only to the objects of the intelligible realm but to the sensible objects as well. Plato does posit, therefore, an epistemological principle for all things, a principle that all things are, epistemologically, bound and, thus, unified by. -/- 5. Bound Beings The ontological aspect of BK we shall call the principle of 'Bound Beings' (BB): -/- BB Being of all things are bound by the Good. -/- We saw in our principle of Split Being (SB) how the first Socrates was criticized because of his approach to split being and separate each thing from other things. The principle of Bound Beings intends to make the things more related, a duty which is done again by the Good. In the allegory of Sun, there are two paragraphs that evidently and deliberately extend the binding role of the Good to the ontological scene: -/- You will say that the sun not only makes the visible things have the ability of being seen but also coming to be, growth and nourishment. (509b2-4) -/- This clearly intends to remind the ontological role the sun plays in bringing to being all the sensible things in order to display how its counterpart has the same role in the intelligible realm (b6-10): -/- Not only the objects of knowledge (γιγνωσκομένοις) owe their being known (γιγνώσκεσθαι) to the Good, but also their existence (τὸ εἶναί) and their being (οὐσίαν) are due to it, though the Good is not being but superior to it in rank and power. That the Good is here represented as responsible for being of things in addition to their being known means, in my opinion, that Plato wants to posit BB in addition to BK. The allegory of Cave at the very beginning of the seventh Book (514aff.) can be taken as another evidence. The role of the Good, one might say, is confined to the intelligible realm because it is asserted that the role the Good plays in this realm is corresponding to that of the sun in the visible realm. The fact that Plato wants to observe the Good also as the ontological cause of the sensible things is obvious from his saying, in the allegory of Cave, that the Form of the Good 'produces light and its source (τὸν τούτου κύριον) [i.e. the sun] in the visible realm' (517c3). We can conclude, then, that the ontological function of the Good is not confined to the intelligible realm in which it is the lord and provides truth and understanding (c3-4) because it is also responsible to produce τὸν κύριον of light. 6. Proportionality of Being and Knowledge Insofaras BE and BO principles of the first Socrates gave way to TE and TO principles of the second Socrates, we cannot expect him to preserve KB in the same way as it was in the first Socrates. The new tripartite ontology and epistemology necessitates some modifications in KB which results in the principle of 'Proportionality of Being and Knowledge' (PBK): -/- PBK To every class of being there is a proportionate category of knowledge. -/- This principle, of course, does not entail the refutation of KB and thus is not kind of rejecting PBK but only a more complicated version of it. Based on PBK, we can still agree that knowledge is of being (KB) but the issue is that since none of the concepts of knowledge and being in the second Socrates are as simple as they were for the first Socrates, we need a more complicated principle for their relation here. Although from Meno 97a where the distinction of knowledge and true opinion is drawn out in the second group of the dialogues, we can expect a new relation, it is articulated in its most complete way in Republic and specifically in the allegory of Line. All the beings are divided there hierarchically to four classes, to each of them belongs a class of knowledge: imagination to images, belief to the sensible things (more correctly: the things of which they[in previous class] were images (ᾧ τοῦτο ἔοικεν)), thought to mathematical objects (?) and understanding to the Forms and the first principle. The degree of clarity that each of the classes of knowledge shares in (σαφηνείας ἡγησάμενος μετέχειν) is proportionate to the degree that its object shares in truth (ἀληθείας μετέχει). (511e2-4) -/- Conclusion From the six onto-epistemilogical principles of the first Socrates, four principles turn to their opposite in the middle period dialogues. While bipolar epistemology and ontology of the early dialogues give place to tripartite epistemology in the middle period dialogues and tripartite ontology in Republic, the split knowledge and being of the first Socrates are inclined to be substituted by bound knowledges and bound beings in the second Socrates and specifically in Republic. Not all our system of principles in this article is necessarily determinative. Either they are rightly formulated or not, our result would not be vulnerable if we accept that 1) making the distinction of knowledge and belief, 2) accepting the being of not being and 3) trying to bind both being and knowledge by the concept of the Good happens only in middle period dialogues, having been absent in the early ones. These are the favourite results all those somehow arbitrary and even oversimplified principles were to illustrate; that there is kind of a development in the epistemological as well as the ontological grounds of Plato’s philosophy. -/- Notes . (shrink)

Literature devoted to analyses of Plato’s Protagoras focus on topics such as Protagoras’ hedonism, the unity of virtue, akrasia, and the distinction between philosophy and sophistry. They pass over the fact that the political atmosphere in Athens and the character of the comrade together compel Socrates to be cautious about what he repeats. The dialogue with Hippocrates allows him to claim that he met with and dethroned Protagoras, not of his own choosing, but as a result of chance. The (...) essay also argues that the Protagoras exposes Socrates’ own inclination towards Hedonism. If Socrates didn’t know this before he met with Protagoras this time, it would be impossible for Socrates not to see it through his encounter and victory over the Sophist. This discovery may be the most profound dimension of Socratic irony. (shrink)

Numerous articles in the popular press together with an examination of websites associated with the medical, legal, engineering, financial, and other professions leave no doubt that the role of professions has been impacted by the Internet. While offering the promise of the democratization of expertise – expertise made available to the public at convenient times and locations and at an affordable cost – the Internet is also driving a reexamination of the concept of professional identity and related claims (...) of expertise and standards of integrity. This paper begins with a presentation of case studies illustrating the ease by which impostors infiltrate the ranks of professionals. Reports of individuals masquerading as professionals via the Internet often reveal that these imposters cause harm to the unwary victims who rely on assertions of professional expertise. Such reports motivated the authors to examine the origins and evolution of the traditional roles of professions and professionals in today’s society, as well as question how, or whether, the standards for professional practice have been adapted to the challenges posed by technology, i.e., do statements of professional ethics provide a ‘guiding light’ for practitioners and their clients in the cyber age? The authors challenge the professions to consider the notion that technology forces a confrontation between the guild-like aspects of a profession that have served, on the one hand, to protect a profession from encroachment and, on the other hand, have purportedly protected the public. (shrink)

It can be said that Westerners have always seen Muslims and Islam as an obstacle to their own existence. They constantly see themselves as superior and try to belittle those who are not like them. The prejudice created by this point of view has prevented them from seeing Islamic civilization. Although many scientists and thinkers have tried to evaluate this accumulation by being influenced by Islamic thought, governments and people have always viewed the issue as such an opposition. This hatred (...) increased even more when Muslims began to conquer the countries of Western (Christian) societies through conquests. The aim of the "Orientalism Research Centers", which was established with the support of the Vienna Church Council, was to make this struggle more systematic by recognizing the Easterners/Muslims instead of understanding them in all their aspects and through the weak sides they could find. Thus, Westerners wanted to place in the Muslim mind The notion they were superior in every field, that Muslims had always been reactionary and that they had to be corrected. In the modern era, the idea that religion is contrary to science and progress and is the source of all conflicts has prevailed in the West. For this reason, it is aimed to create a human and society free from religion and religious.. In the modern era, a secular society experiment was made, people could not be happy. When it comes to the post-modern period, people, whose spiritual and belief aspects were neglected, showed a tendency to turn to religion again with the longing for this. Western governments, politicians and global capitals have resorted to all kinds of remedies to prevent this tendency towards Islam. The construction of Islamophobia has been a concrete proof of this pursuit. The fact that the perpetrators of the September 11 events in the USA and the terrorist attacks in many other western states which is following them, consist of Muslims, has been the pillar of the construction of “Islamophobia” in the West. Capital appetites of global capitals and ancient hostilities have opened the door to direct intervention in Muslim countries with “Islamophobia”. Thanks to Islamophobia, this intervention has been accepted as legitimate in both Western and many Eastern societies. In this study, it is focused on how the “Islamophobia” built into a pragmatic tool is transformed. It has been emphasized that Islamophobia is a legitimate basis for the West to control the energy and oil resources of the Middle East, which has whetted the appetite of the USA. At this point, it has been seen that the West and the USA have achieved their goals to a large extent. However, it was emphasized that in the intervened societies, problems such as poverty, terrorist incidents, ethnic and sectarian divisions, and the masses being forced to migrate could not be solved in the recent past. In this study, an analysis has been made by dealing with a qualitative method, why Westerners behave like this and what they aim with it. (shrink)

First Criticism of the Theory.—This is of the nature of an argumentum ad hominem. In the first place, It is surprising that so clever a man as Protagoras did not see that he proved more than he intended, for according to his theory not only are all men, the wise and the foolish, reduced to the same level, but on the plane of sentient experience it is just as true to say that a pig or a tadpole is the measure (...) of all things. (shrink)

This article brings a historical perspective to explain the recent dissemination of randomized controlled trials (RCTs) as the new “gold standard” method to assess international development projects. Although the buzz around RCT evaluations dates from the 2000s, we show that what we are witnessing now is a second wave of RCTs, while a first wave began in the 1960s and ended by the early 1980s. Drawing on content analysis of 123 RCTs, participant observation, and secondary sources, we compare the two (...) waves in terms of the participants in the network of expertise required to carry out field experiments and the characteristics of the projects evaluated. The comparison demonstrates that researchers in the second wave were better positioned to navigate the political difficulties caused by randomization. We explain the differences in the expertise network and in the type of projects as the result of concurrent transformations in the fields of development aid and the economics profession. We draw on Andrew Abbott’s concept of “hinges,” as well as on Bourdieu’s concept of “homology” between fields, to argue that the similar positions and parallel struggles conducted by two groups of actors in the two fields served as the basis for a cross-field alliance, in which RCTs could function as a “hinge” linking together the two fields. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Plato’s CratylusRosamond Kent SpragueDavid Sedley. Plato’s Cratylus. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003. Pp. xi + 190. Cloth, $60.00Discussion of Plato's Cratylus, to which this book is a notable contribution, must straightway come to terms with the question of Plato's seriousness (or lack thereof) in the etymology sections of the dialogue. Professor Sedley is a strong advocate of the seriousness of the etymologies, a position which, he remarks, (...) will not surprise most classicists, although it "may cause apoplexy among many of Plato's philosophical admirers" (23). More colloquially he writes, "if Plato was joking, the joke flopped" (39).But need we assume that Plato was either serious or joking? His sense of humor was peculiar, and seems to me nicely characterized by Guthrie when, in commenting on the present dialogue, he speaks of Plato as "tumbling together with an equally straight face absurdities and deeply held convictions" (History V, 25). I also incline more than Sedley to the frequent topicality of Plato's work.Nevertheless, the Sedley thesis may be seen to pay rich rewards. Perhaps most notable is the perception that the etymologies constitute a philosophical curriculum, moving along a well-defined trace from cosmology to the consideration (a watershed here) of ethical terms. This progression is especially significant in marking the emancipation of Plato from his early association with Cratylus and his subsequent allegiance to Socrates.Another mandatory topic is, of course, chronology. The Cratylus is seen to be unusual here in that what we have is most probably a reedited version. (A substantive point is at issue because the earlier version fails to distinguish clearly between the lawmaker and the [End Page 490] dialectician.) Thus to the question, where does the Cratylus fit in the traditional chronology, Sedley's answer is, "not in any one place" (7). As to the projected time of the revision, proximity to the Sophist is most likely.Sedley's general approach to the etymologies is hierarchical (here he identifies two important principles, Uniformity and Groundedness) rather than one of mutual support. He writes that the "'imitation' relation between sounds and things will be found [at] not just the primary level, but all the way up the chain" (126). Similarly with Socrates' painting analogy: "the primary pigments which the painter uses already imitate the simplest objects of vision" (128). In both cases the principles of Uniformity and Groundedness "are to some extent permitted to merge" (127).The business of name-making is of course a techne, as is that of painting. That both of these arts are approximate in nature is not an "ad hoc postulate [but] lies at the heart of Platonic metaphysics," since "any craftsman's embodiment of a Form in matter is necessarily less than perfect" (45). (As Sedley tellingly points out, "it is the Sophist Thrasymachus, and not Socrates, who proposes that a craftsman, qua craftsman, never gets anything wrong" [44].) As for Socrates' final position, it is "not the reversion to conventionalism that it has so often been taken to be" (145). Convention does play some part in signification, but it is also the case that names are some kind of vocal imitations, "a thesis, massively documented in the etymological section, from which Socrates never retreats" (145).One point on which I would like to have had Sedley's comments is the following: what does he think of Diogenes Laertius's remark (III, 6) that not only did Plato, after the death of Socrates, "attach himself to Cratylus the Heraclitean," but also to Hermogenes "who professed the philosophy of Parmenides"? Now the only real Parmenideanism in the dialogue (the position that a name is either a true name or not a name at all) is attributed not to Hermogenes but to Cratylus! (Is Descartes an empiricist? Is Hume a rationalist?) Furthermore, even though Cratylus adopts this position on a variety of occasions (429d, 432a, 433c, 436c, and 438c), he is too flighty (or, one might say, too fluxy) to stick with it, and continually relapses (431a, 432d, 433b, 435e, for instance). At the risk of being categorized as a non-serious reader of the Cratylus (which I am not... (shrink)

This article brings a historical perspective to explain the recent dissemination of randomized controlled trials (RCTs) as the new “gold standard” method to assess international development projects. Although the buzz around RCT evaluations dates from the 2000s, we show that what we are witnessing now is a second wave of RCTs, while a first wave began in the 1960s and ended by the early 1980s. Drawing on content analysis of 123 RCTs, participant observation, and secondary sources, we compare the two (...) waves in terms of the participants in the network of expertise required to carry out field experiments and the characteristics of the projects evaluated. The comparison demonstrates that researchers in the second wave were better positioned to navigate the political difficulties caused by randomization. We explain the differences in the expertise network and in the type of projects as the result of concurrent transformations in the fields of development aid and the economics profession. We draw on Andrew Abbott’s concept of “hinges,” as well as on Bourdieu’s concept of “homology” between fields, to argue that the similar positions and parallel struggles conducted by two groups of actors in the two fields served as the basis for a cross-field alliance, in which RCTs could function as a “hinge” linking together the two fields. (shrink)

First Criticism of the Theory.—This is of the nature of an argumentum ad hominem. In the first place, It is surprising that so clever a man as Protagoras did not see that he proved more than he intended, for according to his theory not only are all men, the wise and the foolish, reduced to the same level, but on the plane of sentient experience it is just as true to say that a pig or a tadpole is the measure (...) of all things. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Plato on the Rhetoric of Philosophers and SophistsMichael SvobodaPlato on the Rhetoric of Philosophers and Sophists by Marina McCoy New York: Cambridge University Press, 2008. vii + 212 pp. $74.00, hardcover.With her new book, Marina McCoy, an assistant professor of philosophy at Boston College, succeeds in opening up new lines of inquiry into Plato’s formative engagement(s) with rhetoric: first, by involving other Platonic dialogues in the ongoing interrogations (...) of the Gorgias and Phaedrus and, second, by patiently considering the implications of the different accounts of sophists and philosophers that result. These new investigations are aided by the diverse disciplinary voices with which Marina McCoy herself converses—works by classicists, critics, philosophers, political theorists, and rhetoricians, works taken from a wide range of journals. In her interpretation of the Gorgias, for example, one encounters the names one would expect from a thorough and up-to-date review of these different literatures: Arieti, Dodds, Fussi, Gordon, McComiskey, Nightingale, Saxonhouse, and Yunis. Thus, Plato scholars from both rhetoric and philosophy will find much of interest in this book.McCoy provides a clear overview of her project in her introduction (1–22). In separate readings of the Apology, Protagoras, Gorgias, Republic, Sophist and Theaetetus, and Phaedrus, three interrelated claims are presented and developed: first, consistently distinguishing the philosopher from the sophist was a difficult challenge for Plato—and for the ancient Athenians; second, Plato’s conception of philosophy includes “important rhetorical dimensions,” and third, Plato ultimately differentiates the philosopher [End Page 191] from the sophist on the basis of character (3). To substantiate these claims, the dramatic and historical elements of Plato’s dialogues are interpreted in tandem with their explicit arguments. McCoy notes that the experience of reading the dialogues often reproduces the psychological tensions captured by them. In other words, Plato uses rhetorical techniques to cause his readers both to question philosophy and to engage in it as they do so (7). At the same time, McCoy recognizes that the terms of these discussions were hotly contested: “The Greek mindset at the time of Plato is one of passionate interest in the nature, power, and danger of logos : terms such as philosophia, rhetorike, sophist, and rhetor become part of the weaponry in the battle” (11). By attending to these elements in the seven dialogues examined in the following six chapters, McCoy seeks to show that philosophy is better defined as an interaction of souls than as a collection of analytical techniques, that the approach of Plato’s Socrates “relies more on phronesis and kairos than techne ” (15).These broad claims are immediately tested in the second chapter of the book, “Elements of Gorgianic Rhetoric and the Forensic Genre in Plato’s Apology ” (23–55). Here McCoy further develops two observations about the Apology. First, Socrates’ claims to the contrary, the Apology actually incorporates a number of elements common in forensic speeches at the time of his trial: a standard speech structure, arguments from probability ( eike ), and portrayal of character ( ethopoioa ) (26, 40). But perhaps more provocatively, second, in the Apology Plato seems to allude to Gorgias’ In Defense of Palamedes ; both speeches portray their speakers as public benefactors who cannot have committed the crimes of which they are accused but who nonetheless cannot defend themselves effectively under the conditions of their trial (32–39). When McCoy then calls our attention to the historical elements in the Apology —the life and death of Chaerophon, the role played in Athenian culture and politics by the oracle at Delphi, and the rules governing testimony—we must consider the possibility that Socrates may successfully be using rhetorical techniques, not to win his juror’s favor but to confuse and challenge them. Thrown off their moral balance, McCoy argues, his jurors might be led to question themselves. “Socrates’ risky choice to appeal to the oracle story forces each juror to make a choice: he must decide whether Socrates’ philosophical activity is a moral and even religious virtue” (51). In and through the Apology, Plato may be doing something very similar for his readers: “If Gorgias’ Encomium of Helen is a forensic piece disguised as [an] encomium, perhaps Plato’s Apology... (shrink)

In the present paper I analyze some relevant textual keys of Plato's Apology to show the many strands underlying Socrates' claims of ignorance. I advocate a position that seeks to reevaluate the use of epistemic lexica by considering other evidence, such as cultural and dramatic context, the use of hypothetical clauses, the comparative and the rhetoric of the pair real/apparent. From this approach, I hope to show that there are good reasons to interpret Socrates' claims of ignorance in (...) the light of amiable irony, whereby the use of language and other literary devices create layers of meaning to express the full sense of Socratic wisdom for the audience without resorting to the charge of contradiction or insincerity. Against a position that reduces Socrates' message to the use of epistemic lexica to interpret it either by synonymy, equivocity or low/high cognitive grading, I propose to read Socrates' claims of ignorance, always in comparison to others' claim of wisdom, as a sort of cultural appropriation and revaluation of the traditional title σοφία/σοφός. (shrink)

In Republic VII Plato has Socrates make a curious argument: dialectic as currently practiced causes lawlessness, and thus the practice of dialectic should be restricted to those of a certain age who have been properly trained and selected (537e-539e). I argue that the warning in Republic VII points to a disagreement between the views expressed by the character `Socrates' in the Republic, and the views expressed by the character `Socrates' in the Apology. I do so by showing (...) that Republic's description of the problem as well as Plato's prescriptions for solving it can only be understood under the assumption that `dialectic' in this passage refers to questioning or refutation in general, and as such must include Socratic practices within its scope. This disagreement represents a more general disagreement about the path to the good life and the role of philosophy in living life well, and raises questions concerning Plato's opinion of the trial of Socrates. (shrink)

In this chapter, I add to the new body of philosophical literature that addresses African approaches to just war by reflecting on some topics that have yet to be considered and by advancing different perspectives. My approach is two-fold. First, I spell out a foundational African ethic, according to which one must treat people’s capacity to relate communally with respect. Second, I derive principles from it to govern the use of force and violence, and compare and contrast their implications for (...) war with other recent African views and especially with some prominent accounts in contemporary Anglo-American philosophy. I argue that the approaches to military conflict prescribed by the Afro-communal ethic and its derivative principles differ, and in some prima facie plausible ways, from the views of thinkers that include Thomas Hurka, David Luban, Larry May, Jeff McMahan, and Michael Walzer. In particular, I conclude that the African perspectives ground some interesting and under-explored approaches to just causes for war that merit consideration, including the ideas that military conflict could in principle be justified in order to protect a people’s culture or to correct an aggressor’s vice. (shrink)

The focus of this paper is Aristotle's solution to the problem inherited from Socrates: How could a man fail to restrain himself when he believes that what he desires is wrong? In NE 7 Aristotle attempts to reconcile the Socratic denial of akrasia with the commonly held opinion that people act in ways they know to be bad, even when it is in their power to act otherwise. This project turns out to be largely successful, for what Aristotle shows (...) us is that if we distinguish between two ways of having knowledge (potentially and actually), the Socratic thesis can effectively account for a wide range of cases (collectively referred to here as drunk-akrasia) in which an agent acts contrary to his general knowledge of the Good, yet can still be said to know in the qualified sense that his actions are wrong. However, Book 7 also shows that the Socratic account of akrasia cannot take us any farther than drunk-akrasia, for unlike drunk-akrasia, genuine akrasia cannot be reduced to a failure of knowledge. This agent knows in the unqualified sense that his actions are wrong. The starting-point of my argument is that Aristotle's explanation of genuine akrasia requires a different solution than the one found in NE 7 which relies on the distinction between qualified and unqualified knowing: genuinely akratic behaviour is due to the absence of an internal conflict that a desire for the proper pleasures of temperance would create if he could experience them. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:John Gregory and the Invention of Professional Medical Ethics and the Profession of Medicine by Laurence B. McCullough, John Gregory’s Writings on Medical Ethics and Philosophy of Medicine ed. by Laurence B. McCullough, Medicine and Morals in the Enlightenment: John Gregory, Thomas Percival and Benjamin Rush by Lisbeth HaakonssenHeiner F. KlemmeLaurence B. McCullough. John Gregory and the Invention of Professional Medical Ethics and the Profession of (...) Medicine. Dordrecht, Boston, London: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1998. Pp. xv + 347. Cloth, $140.00.Laurence B. McCullough, editor. John Gregory’s Writings on Medical Ethics and Philosophy of Medicine. Dordrecht, Boston, London: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1998. Pp. xi + 254. Cloth, $105.00.Lisbeth Haakonssen. Medicine and Morals in the Enlightenment: John Gregory, Thomas Percival and Benjamin Rush. Amsterdam, Atlanta: Rodopi, 1997. Pp. x + 247. Paper, $20.50.The Scottish Enlightenment is widely appreciated for its contributions to philosophy, economics, sociology, law, chemistry, and medicine. The ideas and theories advanced by Hume, Smith, Millar, and Ferguson are still widely debated. John Gregory (1724–1773), important in his own time, is not as well known as some of his friends and colleagues. He was professor of medicine at the University of Edinburgh from 1766 to 1773, where he taught introductory lectures on the theory and practice of medicine. A set of extensive student notes from these lectures, entitled Observations on the Duties and Offices of a Physician, appeared anonymously in 1770. Two years later, Gregory himself published a revised version of his lectures under the title Lectures on the Duties and Qualifications of a Physician. These two books are said to mark the beginnings of professional medical ethics in the English-speaking world. They are also sometimes characterized as having anticipated bioethics.McCullough’s comprehensive John Gregory and the Invention of Professional Medical Ethics and the Profession of Medicine is the first modern intellectual biography of Gregory. Based on extensive research into eighteenth-century institutional context and the study of hitherto unknown manuscripts, he gives a full account of Gregory’s education at Edinburgh and Leiden, and his practice and teaching of medicine at Aberdeen, London, and Edinburgh. He stresses the importance of Gregory’s membership in the Aberdeen Philosophical Society and his close contact with Mrs. Montagu and her Circle for the understanding of his medical ethics. McCullough also shows that Bacon’s experimental method had a decisive influence on Gregory. Gregory took over Bacon’s three offices or ends of medicine: preservation of health, prolonging of life, and curing of diseases. In 1772, perhaps anticipating his premature death from hereditary gout, he added a fourth office, namely easing the pain of dying. Gregory referred mainly to Bacon (and Reid) in his Lectures to make clear how we can enlarge our medical knowledge by the method of experience and observation, pointing out that the progress of medicine had been seriously retarded by the way in which it was taught since Hippocrates. He also thought it was handicapped by the view that only professionals [End Page 535] should practice it, and claimed that even quacks have their advantages because their interest and reputation seldom suffer from the failure of the experiments necessary for the improvement of the medical profession.Gregory also argued that we should regard medicine not as a trade but as an art. In this context the principle of sympathy (or humanity) became important for him. Sympathy was the basis of the central duties in his Lectures. In a time of extreme instability of manners, when medicine was regarded more as a trade than an art, there was no physician-patient relationship based on the epistemological and moral authority of the physician. According to McCullough, it was Gregory who created “the physician-patient relationship as fiduciary. The virtues of the physician as fiduciary—openness to conviction, tenderness, and steadiness—provided for him the moral causes that would gather physicians together into a group worthy of the name, ‘profession,’ in its intellectual and moral senses” (265). The physician should no longer view his patients as moral strangers.McCullough claims that Gregory’s medical ethics is not just of historical interest, providing bioethics with its own history. It is also of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:John Gregory and the Invention of Professional Medical Ethics and the Profession of Medicine by Laurence B. McCullough, John Gregory’s Writings on Medical Ethics and Philosophy of Medicine ed. by Laurence B. McCullough, Medicine and Morals in the Enlightenment: John Gregory, Thomas Percival and Benjamin Rush by Lisbeth HaakonssenHeiner F. KlemmeLaurence B. McCullough. John Gregory and the Invention of Professional Medical Ethics and the Profession of (...) Medicine. Dordrecht, Boston, London: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1998. Pp. xv + 347. Cloth, $140.00.Laurence B. McCullough, editor. John Gregory’s Writings on Medical Ethics and Philosophy of Medicine. Dordrecht, Boston, London: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1998. Pp. xi + 254. Cloth, $105.00.Lisbeth Haakonssen. Medicine and Morals in the Enlightenment: John Gregory, Thomas Percival and Benjamin Rush. Amsterdam, Atlanta: Rodopi, 1997. Pp. x + 247. Paper, $20.50.The Scottish Enlightenment is widely appreciated for its contributions to philosophy, economics, sociology, law, chemistry, and medicine. The ideas and theories advanced by Hume, Smith, Millar, and Ferguson are still widely debated. John Gregory (1724–1773), important in his own time, is not as well known as some of his friends and colleagues. He was professor of medicine at the University of Edinburgh from 1766 to 1773, where he taught introductory lectures on the theory and practice of medicine. A set of extensive student notes from these lectures, entitled Observations on the Duties and Offices of a Physician, appeared anonymously in 1770. Two years later, Gregory himself published a revised version of his lectures under the title Lectures on the Duties and Qualifications of a Physician. These two books are said to mark the beginnings of professional medical ethics in the English-speaking world. They are also sometimes characterized as having anticipated bioethics.McCullough’s comprehensive John Gregory and the Invention of Professional Medical Ethics and the Profession of Medicine is the first modern intellectual biography of Gregory. Based on extensive research into eighteenth-century institutional context and the study of hitherto unknown manuscripts, he gives a full account of Gregory’s education at Edinburgh and Leiden, and his practice and teaching of medicine at Aberdeen, London, and Edinburgh. He stresses the importance of Gregory’s membership in the Aberdeen Philosophical Society and his close contact with Mrs. Montagu and her Circle for the understanding of his medical ethics. McCullough also shows that Bacon’s experimental method had a decisive influence on Gregory. Gregory took over Bacon’s three offices or ends of medicine: preservation of health, prolonging of life, and curing of diseases. In 1772, perhaps anticipating his premature death from hereditary gout, he added a fourth office, namely easing the pain of dying. Gregory referred mainly to Bacon (and Reid) in his Lectures to make clear how we can enlarge our medical knowledge by the method of experience and observation, pointing out that the progress of medicine had been seriously retarded by the way in which it was taught since Hippocrates. He also thought it was handicapped by the view that only professionals [End Page 535] should practice it, and claimed that even quacks have their advantages because their interest and reputation seldom suffer from the failure of the experiments necessary for the improvement of the medical profession.Gregory also argued that we should regard medicine not as a trade but as an art. In this context the principle of sympathy (or humanity) became important for him. Sympathy was the basis of the central duties in his Lectures. In a time of extreme instability of manners, when medicine was regarded more as a trade than an art, there was no physician-patient relationship based on the epistemological and moral authority of the physician. According to McCullough, it was Gregory who created “the physician-patient relationship as fiduciary. The virtues of the physician as fiduciary—openness to conviction, tenderness, and steadiness—provided for him the moral causes that would gather physicians together into a group worthy of the name, ‘profession,’ in its intellectual and moral senses” (265). The physician should no longer view his patients as moral strangers.McCullough claims that Gregory’s medical ethics is not just of historical interest, providing bioethics with its own history. It is also of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:John Gregory and the Invention of Professional Medical Ethics and the Profession of Medicine by Laurence B. McCullough, John Gregory’s Writings on Medical Ethics and Philosophy of Medicine ed. by Laurence B. McCullough, Medicine and Morals in the Enlightenment: John Gregory, Thomas Percival and Benjamin Rush by Lisbeth HaakonssenHeiner F. KlemmeLaurence B. McCullough. John Gregory and the Invention of Professional Medical Ethics and the Profession of (...) Medicine. Dordrecht, Boston, London: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1998. Pp. xv + 347. Cloth, $140.00.Laurence B. McCullough, editor. John Gregory’s Writings on Medical Ethics and Philosophy of Medicine. Dordrecht, Boston, London: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1998. Pp. xi + 254. Cloth, $105.00.Lisbeth Haakonssen. Medicine and Morals in the Enlightenment: John Gregory, Thomas Percival and Benjamin Rush. Amsterdam, Atlanta: Rodopi, 1997. Pp. x + 247. Paper, $20.50.The Scottish Enlightenment is widely appreciated for its contributions to philosophy, economics, sociology, law, chemistry, and medicine. The ideas and theories advanced by Hume, Smith, Millar, and Ferguson are still widely debated. John Gregory (1724–1773), important in his own time, is not as well known as some of his friends and colleagues. He was professor of medicine at the University of Edinburgh from 1766 to 1773, where he taught introductory lectures on the theory and practice of medicine. A set of extensive student notes from these lectures, entitled Observations on the Duties and Offices of a Physician, appeared anonymously in 1770. Two years later, Gregory himself published a revised version of his lectures under the title Lectures on the Duties and Qualifications of a Physician. These two books are said to mark the beginnings of professional medical ethics in the English-speaking world. They are also sometimes characterized as having anticipated bioethics.McCullough’s comprehensive John Gregory and the Invention of Professional Medical Ethics and the Profession of Medicine is the first modern intellectual biography of Gregory. Based on extensive research into eighteenth-century institutional context and the study of hitherto unknown manuscripts, he gives a full account of Gregory’s education at Edinburgh and Leiden, and his practice and teaching of medicine at Aberdeen, London, and Edinburgh. He stresses the importance of Gregory’s membership in the Aberdeen Philosophical Society and his close contact with Mrs. Montagu and her Circle for the understanding of his medical ethics. McCullough also shows that Bacon’s experimental method had a decisive influence on Gregory. Gregory took over Bacon’s three offices or ends of medicine: preservation of health, prolonging of life, and curing of diseases. In 1772, perhaps anticipating his premature death from hereditary gout, he added a fourth office, namely easing the pain of dying. Gregory referred mainly to Bacon (and Reid) in his Lectures to make clear how we can enlarge our medical knowledge by the method of experience and observation, pointing out that the progress of medicine had been seriously retarded by the way in which it was taught since Hippocrates. He also thought it was handicapped by the view that only professionals [End Page 535] should practice it, and claimed that even quacks have their advantages because their interest and reputation seldom suffer from the failure of the experiments necessary for the improvement of the medical profession.Gregory also argued that we should regard medicine not as a trade but as an art. In this context the principle of sympathy (or humanity) became important for him. Sympathy was the basis of the central duties in his Lectures. In a time of extreme instability of manners, when medicine was regarded more as a trade than an art, there was no physician-patient relationship based on the epistemological and moral authority of the physician. According to McCullough, it was Gregory who created “the physician-patient relationship as fiduciary. The virtues of the physician as fiduciary—openness to conviction, tenderness, and steadiness—provided for him the moral causes that would gather physicians together into a group worthy of the name, ‘profession,’ in its intellectual and moral senses” (265). The physician should no longer view his patients as moral strangers.McCullough claims that Gregory’s medical ethics is not just of historical interest, providing bioethics with its own history. It is also of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:John Gregory and the Invention of Professional Medical Ethics and the Profession of Medicine by Laurence B. McCullough, John Gregory’s Writings on Medical Ethics and Philosophy of Medicine ed. by Laurence B. McCullough, Medicine and Morals in the Enlightenment: John Gregory, Thomas Percival and Benjamin Rush by Lisbeth HaakonssenHeiner F. KlemmeLaurence B. McCullough. John Gregory and the Invention of Professional Medical Ethics and the Profession of (...) Medicine. Dordrecht, Boston, London: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1998. Pp. xv + 347. Cloth, $140.00.Laurence B. McCullough, editor. John Gregory’s Writings on Medical Ethics and Philosophy of Medicine. Dordrecht, Boston, London: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1998. Pp. xi + 254. Cloth, $105.00.Lisbeth Haakonssen. Medicine and Morals in the Enlightenment: John Gregory, Thomas Percival and Benjamin Rush. Amsterdam, Atlanta: Rodopi, 1997. Pp. x + 247. Paper, $20.50.The Scottish Enlightenment is widely appreciated for its contributions to philosophy, economics, sociology, law, chemistry, and medicine. The ideas and theories advanced by Hume, Smith, Millar, and Ferguson are still widely debated. John Gregory (1724–1773), important in his own time, is not as well known as some of his friends and colleagues. He was professor of medicine at the University of Edinburgh from 1766 to 1773, where he taught introductory lectures on the theory and practice of medicine. A set of extensive student notes from these lectures, entitled Observations on the Duties and Offices of a Physician, appeared anonymously in 1770. Two years later, Gregory himself published a revised version of his lectures under the title Lectures on the Duties and Qualifications of a Physician. These two books are said to mark the beginnings of professional medical ethics in the English-speaking world. They are also sometimes characterized as having anticipated bioethics.McCullough’s comprehensive John Gregory and the Invention of Professional Medical Ethics and the Profession of Medicine is the first modern intellectual biography of Gregory. Based on extensive research into eighteenth-century institutional context and the study of hitherto unknown manuscripts, he gives a full account of Gregory’s education at Edinburgh and Leiden, and his practice and teaching of medicine at Aberdeen, London, and Edinburgh. He stresses the importance of Gregory’s membership in the Aberdeen Philosophical Society and his close contact with Mrs. Montagu and her Circle for the understanding of his medical ethics. McCullough also shows that Bacon’s experimental method had a decisive influence on Gregory. Gregory took over Bacon’s three offices or ends of medicine: preservation of health, prolonging of life, and curing of diseases. In 1772, perhaps anticipating his premature death from hereditary gout, he added a fourth office, namely easing the pain of dying. Gregory referred mainly to Bacon (and Reid) in his Lectures to make clear how we can enlarge our medical knowledge by the method of experience and observation, pointing out that the progress of medicine had been seriously retarded by the way in which it was taught since Hippocrates. He also thought it was handicapped by the view that only professionals [End Page 535] should practice it, and claimed that even quacks have their advantages because their interest and reputation seldom suffer from the failure of the experiments necessary for the improvement of the medical profession.Gregory also argued that we should regard medicine not as a trade but as an art. In this context the principle of sympathy (or humanity) became important for him. Sympathy was the basis of the central duties in his Lectures. In a time of extreme instability of manners, when medicine was regarded more as a trade than an art, there was no physician-patient relationship based on the epistemological and moral authority of the physician. According to McCullough, it was Gregory who created “the physician-patient relationship as fiduciary. The virtues of the physician as fiduciary—openness to conviction, tenderness, and steadiness—provided for him the moral causes that would gather physicians together into a group worthy of the name, ‘profession,’ in its intellectual and moral senses” (265). The physician should no longer view his patients as moral strangers.McCullough claims that Gregory’s medical ethics is not just of historical interest, providing bioethics with its own history. It is also of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Re-examining Empirical Data on Conflicts of Interest Through the Lens of Personal NarrativesEmily E. Anderson and Elena M. KrausIntroductionThe personal stories submitted by physicians and researchers for this symposium add much–needed dimension to conversations on conflicts of interest in medicine and research. Narratives from individuals living with conflicts of interest can serve as a unique lens through which to consider psychological and economic theories and survey data on physician (...) and patient views. In our reading of these personal narratives, we identified four primary themes that will serve as springboards for our commentary. We aim to triangulate clusters of meaning drawn from the narratives with relevant data from published empirical studies and identify gaps in knowledge where more research is needed. These themes are: the unique environments of medicine and research; weighing the potential benefits of conflicts of interest against the risks; conflict of interest management; and the roles and responsibilities of diverse stakeholder groups.The Unique Challenges of the Medical and Research EnvironmentsThe reflections of the narrative authors draw attention to many of the unique environmental aspects of medicine and medical research that make physicians and researchers especially vulnerable to conflicts of interest. Conflicts of interest may be more ubiquitous in medicine than in any other industry (Kassirer, 2006). As the narratives demonstrate, conflicts of interest emerge across a range of health care delivery and research activities. Surveys have shown that 94 percent of physicians have some kind of relationship with industry (Campbell, Gruen, Mountford, et al., 2007). There is also evidence that physician interactions with medical industry begin early and are a regular part of a physician’s professional practice along the career continuum (Wazana, 2000).Medicine as a profession is distinct from banking or law. It is often said that medicine is an art; in treating patients, creative individualized solutions and gut instinct are as (if not more) important than the application of scientific knowledge. Uncertainty surrounds medical decision making. There is limited precision with respect to diagnoses and prognoses, limited data regarding the effectiveness of many treatments, and a range of patient values and preferences. Because of this uncertainty, rules about practice standards, especially with respect to avoidance and management of conflicts of interest, cannot be as explicit as they are in law or business. As demonstrated by the story presented by Sal Cruz–Flores, research and practice often intersect. And, there is no system in greater need of reform—and no system about which there are more divergent opinions as to what shape that reform should take—than the United States health care [End Page 91] system. The narratives of Tony Mikulec, Govind Nagaldinne, and David M. Zientek demonstrate how various aspects of the structure of healthcare service provision and third–party payer arrangements have the potential to harm patients. Conflicts of interest comprise more than relationships with pharmaceutical and medical device manufacturers.The narratives of Laura Jean Bierut and David M. Zientek also discuss examples of conflicts of interest that arise from factors beyond relationships with industry or the direct potential for financial gain. This may be somewhat unique to the medical milieu. Non-financial conflicts such as a desire for the prestige bestowed upon scientists who make key discoveries, a requirement to publish for tenure and promotion, the need to maintain one’s license or other privileges, or simply the pressure of a competitive environment can influence physician and researcher behavior. As noted by Bierut, more research on how to identify and manage non-financial conflicts is needed.The Potential Benefits and Harms of Conflicts of InterestConflicts of interest are usually presented in a negative light, particularly those that involve physician relationships with the pharmaceutical industry. To “have a conflict of interest” is to be in a situation or role where there is potential for personal interests to be prioritized over professional responsibilities. However, in terms of public perception, it seems that conflicts of interest have become almost synonymous with wrongdoing. Perhaps this is due to the barrage of media reports during the last decade on significant harms caused by financial conflicts of interest in business, journalism, and sports as well as in medicine (Steinbrook, 2004). Amidst... (shrink)

Protagoras, of all the ancient philosophers, has perhaps attracted the most interest in modern times. His saying ‘Man is the measure of all things’ caused Schiller to adopt him as the patron of the Oxford pragmatists, and has generally earned him the title of the first humanist. Yet the exact delineation of his philosophcal position remains a baffling task. Neumann, writing on Die Problematik des ‘Homo-mensura’ Satzes in 1938,2 concludes that no certainty whatever can be reached on the meaning of (...) the dictum, since ‘man’, ‘measure’, and ‘things’ are all ambiguous, nor can we tell which of the three is the predicate. The time is past when it was believed that a man's philosophy could be understood apart from the events of his life and the circumstances of his age: yet in the case of Protagoras the historical method of approach has hardly been attempted, although the impact of environment was perhaps more decisive in the formation of philosophical concepts in the Greek world than anywhere else. The reality about which the Greek philosopher spoke had three aspects: it was either the one universe of physics, or the political unity, or God. For example, the book of Heracleitus Περ φσεως was divided into three chapters or logoi, About the Whole, a political, and a theological. Neither physics nor theology supplies from its own subject-matter the form in which this reality was described. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Measurement, Pleasure, and Practical Science in Plato's Protagoras HENRY S. RICHARDSON 1. INTRODUCTION TOWARDS THE END OF THE PROTAGORAS Socrates suggests that the "salvation of our life" depends upon applying to pleasures and pains a science of measurement (metr$tik~techn~).Whether Plato intended to portray Socrates as putting forward sincerely the form of hedonism that makes these pleasures and pains relevant has been the subject of a detailed and (...) probably interminable debate, to which this paper will not directly contribute. By contrast, it seems to be supposed by almost all who have written on the topic that this hedonism, whoever is espousing it, puts forward pleasure as a single, homogeneous yardstick of value to serve as the basis of a supremely simple standard of choice. This standard simply directs one to seek the maximal amount of pleasure. The underlying supposition is that the hedonism put forward in the Protagorasallows one to define a maximum because all goods are commensurable. But, as I shall emphasize in the sequel, hedonism does not imply commensurability, nor does commensurability imply hedonism. The interpretive thesis of this essay is that the common presumption that the dialogue's hedonism carries commensurability with it has impeded our ability to understand the Protagor~'s relation to the other dialogues, and has distorted the fundamental purpose of Socrates's practical science. These matters are of more than textual interest. My reasons for trying to remain neutral as to the longstanding debate about attributing the dialogue's hedonism are not limited to wanting to avoid quagmires and remove confusions that have resulted from unwarranted interpretive assumptions. To many, the Protagorasis of tremendous importance as an early articulation of a calculative ideal for ethical or practical decisionmaking, whether or not Plato or Socrates was committed to that ideal. Looking [7] 8 JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY 28:1 JANUARY x99 o back at the Protagorasfrom our twentieth-century perspective encourages the expectation that we might find there some argument for the crucial features of such a calculative ideal, as we have come to understand it. One such feature, prominent especially in the classical utilitarians, is that of the commensurability of goods, which in turn allows the precise definition of a maximizing rule. If the Protagoraspresented a calculative conception involving commensurability, then we might expect to find in the dialogue some argumentfor the rational necessity of commensurability. My claim will be that since there is no compelling evidence that the idea of commensurability is found in the dialogue, there is'hardly likely to be an argument for it there. In fact, it is of philosophical interest to see how far the arguments against weakness of will and for the unity of virtue (whoever is making them) can proceed without relying upon commensurability; This way of putting the philosophical points at issue here underlines the relative modesty of what I am claiming about commensurability. I argue that there is nothing in the dialogue that requires us to see commensurability as part of its hedonism, that the arguments proceed without relying upon commensurability, and that in some respects the problem of understanding the relationship of the Protagorasto Plato's other dialogues is eased if we refrain from attributing any commensurability here. I will show that a clearer picture of what is doing the argumentative work in the last secdon of the dialogue will result if we thus separate commensurability from hedonism, and that an illuminatingly different way of understanding the role of the science of measurement is thereby suggested. None of this amounts to a compelling argument that the idea of commensurability is not to be found in the dialogue. Rather, my case simply undermines the positive reasons for finding the idea there. Apart from the greater clarity which separating hedonism and commensurability allows, this modest negative case links up with the deeper philosophical moti,~ation I have mentioned by casting cold water on any hopes that the Protagorascould be made to yield an argument specifically linking commensurability to rationality. In one respect, my interpretive strategy is akin to that of commentators who have attempted to ease the tension between the Protagorasand the Gorgias by arguing that the form of hedonism... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Measurement, Pleasure, and Practical Science in Plato's Protagoras HENRY S. RICHARDSON 1. INTRODUCTION TOWARDS THE END OF THE PROTAGORAS Socrates suggests that the "salvation of our life" depends upon applying to pleasures and pains a science of measurement (metr$tik~techn~).Whether Plato intended to portray Socrates as putting forward sincerely the form of hedonism that makes these pleasures and pains relevant has been the subject of a detailed and (...) probably interminable debate, to which this paper will not directly contribute. By contrast, it seems to be supposed by almost all who have written on the topic that this hedonism, whoever is espousing it, puts forward pleasure as a single, homogeneous yardstick of value to serve as the basis of a supremely simple standard of choice. This standard simply directs one to seek the maximal amount of pleasure. The underlying supposition is that the hedonism put forward in the Protagorasallows one to define a maximum because all goods are commensurable. But, as I shall emphasize in the sequel, hedonism does not imply commensurability, nor does commensurability imply hedonism. The interpretive thesis of this essay is that the common presumption that the dialogue's hedonism carries commensurability with it has impeded our ability to understand the Protagor~'s relation to the other dialogues, and has distorted the fundamental purpose of Socrates's practical science. These matters are of more than textual interest. My reasons for trying to remain neutral as to the longstanding debate about attributing the dialogue's hedonism are not limited to wanting to avoid quagmires and remove confusions that have resulted from unwarranted interpretive assumptions. To many, the Protagorasis of tremendous importance as an early articulation of a calculative ideal for ethical or practical decisionmaking, whether or not Plato or Socrates was committed to that ideal. Looking [7] 8 JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY 28:1 JANUARY x99 o back at the Protagorasfrom our twentieth-century perspective encourages the expectation that we might find there some argument for the crucial features of such a calculative ideal, as we have come to understand it. One such feature, prominent especially in the classical utilitarians, is that of the commensurability of goods, which in turn allows the precise definition of a maximizing rule. If the Protagoraspresented a calculative conception involving commensurability, then we might expect to find in the dialogue some argumentfor the rational necessity of commensurability. My claim will be that since there is no compelling evidence that the idea of commensurability is found in the dialogue, there is'hardly likely to be an argument for it there. In fact, it is of philosophical interest to see how far the arguments against weakness of will and for the unity of virtue (whoever is making them) can proceed without relying upon commensurability; This way of putting the philosophical points at issue here underlines the relative modesty of what I am claiming about commensurability. I argue that there is nothing in the dialogue that requires us to see commensurability as part of its hedonism, that the arguments proceed without relying upon commensurability, and that in some respects the problem of understanding the relationship of the Protagorasto Plato's other dialogues is eased if we refrain from attributing any commensurability here. I will show that a clearer picture of what is doing the argumentative work in the last secdon of the dialogue will result if we thus separate commensurability from hedonism, and that an illuminatingly different way of understanding the role of the science of measurement is thereby suggested. None of this amounts to a compelling argument that the idea of commensurability is not to be found in the dialogue. Rather, my case simply undermines the positive reasons for finding the idea there. Apart from the greater clarity which separating hedonism and commensurability allows, this modest negative case links up with the deeper philosophical moti,~ation I have mentioned by casting cold water on any hopes that the Protagorascould be made to yield an argument specifically linking commensurability to rationality. In one respect, my interpretive strategy is akin to that of commentators who have attempted to ease the tension between the Protagorasand the Gorgias by arguing that the form of hedonism... (shrink)

Plato’s dialogues show Socrates at different ages, beginning when he was about nineteen and already deeply immersed in philosophy and ending with his execution five decades later. By presenting his model philosopher across a fifty-year span of his life, Plato leads his readers to wonder: does that time period correspond to the development of Socrates’ thought? In this magisterial investigation of the evolution of Socrates’ philosophy, Laurence Lampert answers in the affirmative. The chronological route that Plato maps (...) for us, Lampert argues, reveals the enduring record of philosophy as it gradually took the form that came to dominate the life of the mind in the West. The reader accompanies Socrates as he breaks with the century-old tradition of philosophy, turns to his own path, gradually enters into a deeper understanding of nature and human nature, and discovers the successful way to transmit his wisdom to the wider world. Focusing on the final and most prominent step in that process and offering detailed textual analysis of Plato’s _Protagoras_, _Charmides_, and _Republic_, _How Philosophy Became Socratic_ charts Socrates’ gradual discovery of a proper politics to shelter and advance philosophy. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:All was this land full fill'd of faerie," or Magic and the Past in Early Modern EnglandLauren KassellI.In 1625 Gabriel Naudé (1600–53), student of medicine and up-and-coming librarian, wrote a history of magic.1 Paracelsianism had been debated in France for decades, and in 1623 Naudé had lent his pen to the controversy following the hoax appearance of bills posted in Paris announcing the arrival of the Fraternity of the (...) Rosy Cross and the wonders they could provide. The impetus for Naudé's history of magic was a pamphlet that described Homer and Virgil, abusively, as magicians. As Didier Kahn has shown, Naudé's 1623 intervention against the Rosicrucians wrested a brewing dispute about Paracelsianism from the hands of theologians and settled it in the name of reason, not religion; his medical training no doubt informed his intervention.2 In his history of magic Naudé complained that everyone who ever did anything clever was now reputed to be a magician, which meant in league with the devil. His project was to clear the ground of the [End Page 107] false histories that had been written for the previous two hundred years. Adopting a mode of historia litteraria, he redeemed the reputations of several dozen learned men—including Zoroaster, Socrates, Roger Bacon, Agrippa, and ultimately Virgil—whose names had been sullied by the term magician.3The branding of natural philosophers and especially mathematical practitioners as magicians had been an enduring problem.4 As John Aubrey would later reflect in notes on the life of the Oxford scholar Thomas Allen, "In those darke times Astrologer, Mathematician, and Conjurer, were accounted the same thing."5 But Naudé provides an elaborate account of why these accusations initially might have been fabricated—jealousy, incredulity, malice, fear of technology—and demonstrates a method for unmasking these errors. Follow the simple rules of good scholarship, he insists: read the best authors, think logically, and acquire "a certain familiarity with the most profitable Sciences, and the most universal and general account of the affairs of this World that may be had, which is to be gained partly by our own industry, partly by the endeavors of those who have gone before us, such as may be those of Historians."6 That is, through hard work and the help of other historians, understand the context in which these texts were written. Perfect historians are indispensable; false historians should be read with caution.7 If one encounters a fabulous tale, locate its textual sources, read critically, and remember that (many) historians vend rubbish.8 Naudé surveys a vast literature dating from antiquity through the sixteenth century, demonstrating that misreadings of tropes and irony, for instance, have led to the labeling of poets and natural philosophers as magicians.9 Likewise, where people have professed their magical powers, Naudé is careful to show that writing books about magic and boasting about one's expertise are not the same thing as practicing magic.10 These fables persist because authors repeat what others have written without applying the above principles of good research; they write for their own glory instead of doing proper research; and they show off their polymathic skills by assembling great [End Page 108] heaps of examples instead of making sense of them. Thus the noble name of history is built upon a monstrous edifice of fables.11In short, prompted by festering occultism and religious controversies in Paris, Naudé wrote a history of magic in order to release the great men of learning from the label of magician. This is a history of the "first appearance of learning, the first rising of the great wits, the time they flourished, the ages which have brought forth most, and take notice by the way, how that ignorance hath always persecuted them with this calumny"; he defines magic historically.12 Great learning and suspicion of its demonic sources are inseparable. Through pragmatic reading, Naudé redeems scholars who have been called magicians, and shifts the onus of explanation away from these learned men and onto historians and their incredulous readers.13 Poor histories are written by men guilty of pride and malice. These fables persist because... (shrink)

The purpose of this study is to expand our understanding of the factors that influence ethical behavioral intentions of public accountants. Recent scandals have dominated the news and have caused legislators, regulators and the public to question the role of the accounting profession. Legislative changes have brought about major structural changes in the profession and continued scrutiny will surely lead to further changes. Thus, developing an understanding of the personal and contextual factors that influence ethical decisions is critical. (...) An extension of the theory of planned behavior [Ajzen, I.: 1985, Action Control-From Cognition to Behavior ], the model used in this study examined the influence of personal, social and organizational factors on ethical intentions. Specifically, the individual level model tested direct eects of attitudes, subjective norms, perceived behavioral control, moral sensitivity and ethical climate. Professionals from five accounting firms completed a survey that measured responses to ethical dilemmas related to the public accounting domain. To minimize the potential impact of common method bias, the survey instrument was administered in two phases. Hypotheses were evaluated using a structural modeling technique, partial least squares. Results show strong support for a direct relationship between attitudes and ethical intentions. The proposed direct eect of subjective norms was not supported. However, a significant relationship between subjective norms and attitudes was found. Professionals' attitudes towards ethical issues clearly influence intentions. Moreover, this study illustrates the potential influence of social factors in attitude formation. Future research should explore the factors in the public accounting domain that most strongly influence attitude formation. This study suggests that the theory of reasoned action oers a useful framework for exploring these issues. (shrink)

While the early Platonic dialogues have often been explored and appreciated for their ethical content, this is the first book devoted solely to the epistemology of Plato's early dialogues. Author Hugh H. Benson argues that the characteristic features of these dialogues- -Socrates' method of questions and answers, his fascination with definition, his professions of ignorance, and his thesis that virtue is knowledge- -are decidedly epistemological. In this thoughtful study, Benson uncovers the model of knowledge that underlies these distinctively Socratic (...) views. What emerges is unfamiliar, yet closer to a contemporary conception of scientific understanding than ordinary knowledge. (shrink)

Plato’s dialogues show Socrates at different ages, beginning when he was about nineteen and already deeply immersed in philosophy and ending with his execution five decades later. By presenting his model philosopher across a fifty-year span of his life, Plato leads his readers to wonder: does that time period correspond to the development of Socrates’ thought? In this magisterial investigation of the evolution of Socrates’ philosophy, Laurence Lampert answers in the affirmative. The chronological route that Plato maps (...) for us, Lampert argues, reveals the enduring record of philosophy as it gradually took the form that came to dominate the life of the mind in the West. The reader accompanies Socrates as he breaks with the century-old tradition of philosophy, turns to his own path, gradually enters into a deeper understanding of nature and human nature, and discovers the successful way to transmit his wisdom to the wider world. Focusing on the final and most prominent step in that process and offering detailed textual analysis of Plato’s _Protagoras_, _Charmides_, and _Republic_, _How Philosophy Became Socratic_ charts Socrates’ gradual discovery of a proper politics to shelter and advance philosophy. (shrink)