Plato: Euthyphro, Confucius, and the Holy Ghost Hokey Pokey

Rufus F.

Rufus is a likeable curmudgeon. He has a PhD in History, sang for a decade in a punk band, and recently moved to NYC after nearly two decades in Canada. He wrote the book "The Paris Bureau" from Dio Press (2021).

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46 Responses

  1. I enjoyed this (obviously). It may be awhile before I can put together a full post of my own since I have to get my hands on a fresh copy of the dialogue.

    One thing that I tend to do when I think about the Euthyphro is to view the discussion on piety as a discussion of morality, justice and truth, more generally, both within and outside of the religious context. So the part of the gods can manifest itself in secular government every bit as much as it can in the Vatican. This probably stems from me first encountering the dialogue in a class on political theory.

    If this seems muddled, it’s because this dialogue always ties me in knots. The weird thing is that the fact that it ties me in knots is exactly why I’ve found it so important and influential to me.

    One thing that I’ve always found so wonderful about the dialogue is the way in which it lays bare that moral certainty is often rooted in an unthinking moral relativism. Something that just occurs to me now is that the dialogue demonstrates that whatever morality may be, it must have a constant undercurrent of humility.Report

  2. Jaybird says:

    I’ve been trying to refrain from bringing this up until we got to the Apology but I just can’t wait.

    Walter Kaufmann is the guy who changed my life. I had recently abandoned Christianity and was in the midst of my SUPERATHEIST! phase (“those young singles at the mall are inviting young folks to their young singles church group! THIS IS A JOB FOR SUPERATHEIST!!!”) and was really kinda weirded out by my own (and that of my peers) certainty, righteousness, and evangelical tendencies.

    It felt like I had gone out of my way to kill God… and there was this support group that said “great, you’ve abandoned your old ways! Here is a new list of taboos, a new list of virtues, a bell, a book, a candle, we meet on Wednesday nights…”

    As most fledgling Superatheists do, I read Nietzsche… and Kaufmann was the absolute best Nietzsche translator out there. I devoured everything he translated of N’s and then stumbled across a book in the library called “Faith Of A Heretic” written by him.

    http://www.amazon.com/Faith-Heretic-Walter-Kaufmann/dp/0452004829

    Sadly, the cheapest one appears to be sixty bucks. (Every now and again, one shows up for twentyish and Maribou and I snatch it up… I have probably given away 10 copies of this book.)

    It’s a spectacular expansion of an essay he wrote for Harpers in the late 50’s:
    http://faculty.plts.edu/gpence/html/kaufmann.htm

    If you can find a copy in your school’s library, devour it. Your school’s library can probably Prospector it even if they don’t have it in the stacks.

    Anyway, when you say Socrates is morally serious- he believes that it matters greatly what we do because there is a moral order to the universe; yet he is acutely aware of just how hard it is to have certain knowledge of good and evil, that totally sums pretty much “Morally Serious” to a T, doesn’t it? Knowing that something ought to be done but only having shadowy inklings of what it maybe should be, probably… and, in the seeing of what people are actually doing… to themselves, each other, their children, their parents, their spouses…

    It seems like the first thing that one ought to do is engage in some serious making new gods and denying the existence of the old ones… but then, of course, one finds oneself, eventually, worshiping the quickly aging Gods and having to deal with all of these whippersnappers running around and denying their existence.

    It seems to me that we need to keep our feet on two things: our anchored knowledge that there is a moral fabric and absolute humility when it comes to our ability to figure out what in the hell it consists of.

    And we should probably try to be kinder to each other.Report

    • Endevour to Persevere in reply to Jaybird says:

      @Jaybird,

      Indeed, the superatheist crowd is indeed the anti-religion rather than the absence of religion. I, for one, have come to view religion as more a cultural phenomena to be observed than a philosophical one to be investigated but that may just be an artifact from my superatheist days (yesterday, for example).Report

    • Endevour to Persevere in reply to Jaybird says:

      @Jaybird,
      Excuse the double comment but I just wanted to thank you for posting that essay. I loved it, the rejection of religion but the affirmation of virtue and an inquiry into holiness.

      I’ll get keep my eye, and wallet, out for the book.Report

    • Rufus F. in reply to Jaybird says:

      @Jaybird, I’m going to see if that book is in my library.

      For me, there were two things that shook my faith in the void- 1. Reading Nietzsche and realizing that nobody’s really been an atheist like that since. I certainly never was. I was more the “Haha! You believe in this stuff!” sort of atheist, but Nietzsche took it seriously. The death of God is no joke.
      2. I finally asked myself how it is that people I know, love, and respect have had these inexplicable experiences of the numinous- of having the universe answer back- and even my ‘cradle atheist’ wife, truth be told- and I’m able to say, “Ah, of course that didn’t really happen to you”, mainly because it’s never happened to me. Maybe I’m the one who’s full of it, you know.

      So, I’ll admit that, when I was a super-atheist, I was pretty glib about it, and that’s what I’ve come to reject- the glibness of certainty about anything. Because, you know, I could be wrong.Report

      • Endevour to Persevere in reply to Rufus F. says:

        @Rufus F.,

        I’ve read a few things from Bob Price that might qualify as Nietzschean atheism.

        I respect what the institution of religion has given mankind and I’m open to religious experience but I still can’t believe people actually believe most of these things. And I have yet to see to find any good reason to believe religious experience is anything extra-mundane.

        So I’m probably still a superatheist, but maybe with a healthier sense of doubt than most.Report

  3. Paul B says:

    This Onion article seems relevant: Priest Religious, But Not Really Spiritual

    More seriously, I think it’s worth pointing out that while Euthyphro’s appeal to religious authority piety is problematic, Confucian filial piety just substitutes another dogma in its place, and Socrates’ skepticism doesn’t actually help us evaluate the competing claims on anything more than an individual level.

    But if you want to talk about society (and you certainly don’t have to — I for one am content to waver from curmudgeon to misanthrope), skeptical humility starts to be less viable. It’s easiest to frame the problem in consequentialist terms, but I suspect it’s consistent with quasi-Kantian deontology: do we want to live in a world where families are occasionally broken up when one of their members is punished for murder, or where murderers go unpunished in the interest of filial piety?

    So I see Plato’s authoritarianism coming pretty directly out of Socrates’ skepticism, specifically from forcing answers to problems like the Euthyphro dilemma (i.e. asserting that god is synonymous with the form of the good) to swat away society’s gadflies.Report

    • Rufus F. in reply to Paul B says:

      @Paul B, I have to think about your last point a bit more- it’s a really good point. To some extent, I often feel when reading the dialogues as if Plato is answering Socrates’s skepticism by saying “No, it’s really like this”, and that’s the authoritarian strain. But, I’ll keep thinking about it when we get to the other trial dialogues.

      As for filial piety, I agree that it becomes another dogma, but just like with Socrates and Plato, I’m not sure that this isn’t the fault of Confucius’s chroniclers. That’s a very striking similarity, in fact- we get hints of really profound skepticism from Confucius- including, incidentally, his statement that we have no way of knowing about the afterlife- but everything we read was recorded by his students, who might have tried to shape his ideas into doctrines. Even with filial piety, there are other passages that seem to suggest he’d want a son to turn in his father. It’s never as clear-cut as it seems.

      Which brings us back to your main point- Confucius gives an example of how to live an individual life, and says that doing so is to do politics- but it’s pretty hard to imagine living in a society structured in that way; and the same really is true of Socrates.Report

      • T. Greer in reply to Rufus F. says:

        Rufus F.

        Two points.

        1. Confucius’ case is even worse than Socrates. The general historical consensus is that it was not Kongzi’s students who wrote down his words, but his student’s students who wrote what eventually become The Analects. For the comparison to be proper, all of Socrates works would be placed in shortened ‘Dialogues of Socrates’ written by Aristotle and several of his contemporaries, with various additions grafted on over the next two or three centuries.

        2. Perhaps it is just my interest in Chinese institutional history, but I tend to think of Confucius’ remarks in the context of its social history. Confucius lived in a very tumultuous time subject to numerous transformations in the make up of ancient Chinese society. You will remember that the Chinese states of the Chunqiu begin as outposts of the defunct Zhou dynasty’s ruling house. Everybody had a place in this elaborate feudal structure. But by the end of the period (30 years or so after Confucius’ death), the feudal hierarchy had been completely replaced by bureaucratic states not unlike those found in Early Modern Europe (thus the name of the next period – Zhanguo, or “warring states”.)

        Kongzi lives in the midst of this great transformation and utterly detests it. In this context his disdain for the Lord of She’s noble peasant makes sense – for Kongzi and the Confucians who followed him, authority came not from the state, but through filial lines. The child willing to turn in his father is not just being a disrespectful child – he is turning the source of moral order itself onto its head.

        Thus, as I read it, Kongzi is taking a clear position on one of, if not the, central questions of his day: where should the loyalties of a gentleman lie? Should he dedicate himself to his state, or his family? In replying that true virtue can only be expressed through a lineal framework, Kongzi launches an attack on his fellow aristocrats anxiously implanting themselves in the new order. This also helps make clear Kongzi’s philosophy of politics-as-self. Think about it for a moment- in feudal societies, every action of a prince, duke, or earl is a political action. Absent the state, the distinction between private and political life is a tenuous one. Kongzi says that living an individual life of virtue is political virtue, because he believes that the distinction between the two does not (or should not) exist.

        Incidentally, this is a battle that Confucius lost. Badly. By the time Shang Yang, a man of common birth, becomes Chancellor of Qin a century later, he is able to create a system of rewards for brothers, wives, and fathers who snitch on other members of their family for breaking the laws of the state. The idea of morality by feudal order had been gutted and left to the wayside, not to be picked up again until Confucianism was revived by Han Emperors desperate for a source of political legitimacy.Report

  4. Jason Kuznicki says:

    There’s also the Hindu answer, which I will probably maim because I’m not a Hindu, but I understand it to run roughly as follows:

    Obedience to the gods is the exoteric truth, the one for the simple-minded, for initiates and children. Contemplation of the true order of the universe is hard and takes years of seeking and discipline. But they are both necessary, both good, both parts of the same path.

    Someone correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s what I get out of the Bhagavad Gita.Report

  5. Will says:

    A couple of the people in my study circle are instructors for the Virtues Project. I was talking to one of them about the instructor’s training (considering doing it myself).
    One of the exercises at the training was to identify, as a group, a person who was ‘virtuous.’ The group chose Oprah Winfrey (I know, I know…). They were then instructed to identify which virtues that Winfrey had from a list. They found that she had just about every one of them.
    They were then asked to identify, as a group, someone who was ‘detestable.’ The group chose Adolf Hitler (I know, I know…). They were then asked to identify from the list which virtues it was that Hitler had. There was some resistance to this at first, but they proceeded with the task.
    The teaching is that there are virtues which are counterbalanced by other virtues, and these complementary virtues are said to ‘hold hands.’ For instance, truthfulness holds hands with tact. Truthfulness without tact can be a very bad thing, and so is tact without truthfulness. I’m sure that you can think of examples of each from your personal lives.
    What was discovered (and this is the purpose of the exercise) was that Hitler did have virtues. He had quite a few of them. But his virtues were not balanced. He lacked the other virtues which would provide the counterbalance. And so, Hitler had plenty of assertiveness, but little caring.
    These are known as ‘growth virtues’ and ‘strength virtues,’ btw. The implication here is that he did have some degree of caring, but not enough to balance the assertiveness. And so, he was not to be seen as ‘non-virtuous’ per se, but rather as unbalanced.

    Now that the Aristotelean background is established, on to piety and filial loyalty.
    Could it be, perhaps, that Godliness is to be tempered by our Humanity?
    That is, when we aspire to the divine, do we not do so from the position of an earthly creature? In so doing, is the forgetfulness of the one pretty much the same as the forgetfulness of the other? Say, if the basement of a church is to collapse, is this not also a catastrophe, the same as the steeple falling into the building would be?

    Or am I off on the wrong track entirely?Report

    • Jaybird in reply to Will says:

      @Will, I’ve heard such called “handmaidens of the virtues”.

      Where you find the virtues, you will find the handmaidens.

      Sadly, the handmaidens are a promiscuous bunch…

      So, like, “honesty” is a handmaiden. However, telling the truth just to tell someone that they are stupid or ugly is not, in fact, virtuous.

      “Bravery” is another. The 9/11 attackers were, in fact, brave… but it was bravery in service to wickedness.

      So on and so forth. These things will show up where the virtues show up (honesty, bravery, perseverance) , but, sadly, they also show up for folks who happen to be vicious.Report

      • Will in reply to Jaybird says:

        @Jaybird, Excellent.
        Now we come to the true meat of the matter: Does understanding come from the close examination of the parts of a thing, or does it instead come from consideration of the whole?
        Arguments could be made in both directions, I believe.

        For example, a general practitioner provides a referral to a cardiologist. To what degree is the efficacy of the cardiologist dependent on his understanding of the patient as particularly human? Surely a veterinarian or an entomologist would have some understanding of hearts. Even, say, a urologist might have some general knowledge. I suppose the question could be rephrased as to what extent the efficacy of these others is reduced.
        To be fair, I suppose it would depend if the issue were general health or a specific ailment, and to what degree.
        I don’t really know what I’m getting at here, other than some general idea that piety is not exclusively reliant on piety itself; but I think this has general implications which might be applied elsewhere.Report

        • Jaybird in reply to Will says:

          @Will, heh… part of the problem is that there are a million ways to screw stuff up, and dozens and dozens of them present identically to normal wear and tear until they blow up catastrophically… and even the most senior cardiologist on the planet might be making some perfectly reasonable and rational bad assumption (one that we’ve made since the days of Imhotep)… and, well, we do what he says because we’ve always done it that way.

          The beliefs held by the cardiologist are coherent and completely in line with established medical thought and established medical ethics and all of the established stuff… but, at the end of the day, despite being reasonable and rational they don’t reflect Reality.

          And there’s no way to Know.

          We can just hope that coherence reflects reality to some degree… and try to not start a war when we encounter a mutually exclusive but equally coherent system of understanding.

          I guess.Report

          • Will in reply to Jaybird says:

            @Jaybird, I was thinking something along the same lines, that things are just too diverse to nail down to one specific which applies in all circumstances.
            For instance, even a very good knowledge of cats wouldn’t confer the intimacy with the idiosyncracies of one specific cat; and knowledge of society at large does not make us understand the mind of any one man in particular, although it does offer a contrast by which other things may be inferred.Report

            • Rufus F. in reply to Will says:

              @Will, This is a really interesting discussion. I have to come back- I’ve drawn a blank on where I read a similar argument- that vices are just virtues taken to an extreme without countervailing tendencies…Report

  6. Dan Orr says:

    Kant illustrates the difference between morality by authority and morality by reason (what you’ve called “seriousness”), when he says (paraphrasing) that only those who understand acting for reasons which consider others as ends in themselves (and not merely as means) can understand the example and the moral authority of Jesus Christ. In other words, a person can understand Jesus universalizing his maxims if and only if a person can understand herself doing so. So, moral authorities are recognized only by those with the requisite moral understanding.

    This helps one see just how subversive Socrates was. He was requiring, as it were, an independent check on the gods’ moral authority!

    Here’s the flipside. Ror the “morally serious”, what’s the point of moral authorities? If one understands what is right, one doesn’t have any need for them.

    Which brings up, I think, the one of the most interesting ways of getting at most meta-ethical issues (e.g. moral semantics, moral epistemology, the nature of moral truth-makers, akrasia):

    1. Assume that there are moral experts/authorities.
    2. Identify them.
    3. Determine what help their examples actually provide.
    4. Reverse engineer.

    Not so simple, you say. I agree. But meta-ethics is always hard.

    As for Plato’s authoritarianism – I don’t think it has anything to do with the Euthyphro problem. I think he held it because he believed most people were too lazy and unreflective to find things out for themselves.Report

    • Paul B in reply to Dan Orr says:

      @Dan Orr,

      As for Plato’s authoritarianism – I don’t think it has anything to do with the Euthyphro problem. I think he held it because he believed most people were too lazy and unreflective to find things out for themselves.

      But Plato only needs to worry about people being lazy and unreflective once the Euthyphro problem (or something similar) is raised. And Socrates is probably more sure than Plato that people couldn’t or wouldn’t understand the truth — in the Apology* he’s adamant that he never set out to teach anybody, but only to uncover their ignorance. So if we find authoritarian in Plato but not in Socrates, it’s got to come in the former’s attempt to provide answers to questions that the latter was content merely to pose.

      *According to Plato, at least. Xenophon has Socrates hold himself up as an educator par excellence.Report

      • Dan Orr in reply to Paul B says:

        So if we find authoritarian in Plato but not in Socrates, it’s got to come in the former’s attempt to provide answers to questions that the latter was content merely to pose.,

        I don’t know the order in which Platonic dialogues are written, nor where Plato was speaking for himself or speaking for Socrates. I do have a pretty good familiarity with Plato’s mature theory of forms (Parm. & Soph., mostly).

        Accordingly, I don’t see how there’s anything authoritarian about identifying God with the Good. Being a form is incompatible with having agency (i.e. agency requires change, forms don’t change), and authorities are agents. The identification removes agency. The only authority God now has is the authority over reason. It’s the normativity of logic, not the coercion of a despot. In other words, it’s the got-to of the ‘therefore’, not the got-to of the scepter.

        On the side, I think identifying Goodness with God makes absolutely no sense. The notion of agency is so central to the concept of God, I can’t make sense of God without it.

        Of course, I could just be thinking anachronistically. 😛 I’m more into metaphysics than ancient philosophy.Report

        • Paul B in reply to Dan Orr says:

          @Dan Orr,

          Ah, I am not a metaphysician but a (lapsed) Hellenist — and apparently an unclear one at that! I didn’t mean to say that there’s something authoritarian in Plato’s god/good identity per se or in the “got-to of the therefore” (I like that!). But it’s certainly authoritarian for a philosopher-king to wield that therefore as a scepter over an ignorant populace, although maybe I’m reading the Republic too literally.

          And for what it’s worth, here’s a brief rundown on the order of the dialogues: Euthyphro is a typical early dialogue, in which Socrates chops away at some bit of received wisdom and ending up in a state of confusion (this is probably what Socrates really did, since we have some non-Platonic corroboration). In the middle period Socrates starts building positive arguments which are generally assumed to be Plato’s, and by the late dialogues other characters do the real pontificating. There’s got to be a bit of circular reasoning in classifying any particular dialogue, but the general pattern is clear enough.Report

          • Rufus F. in reply to Paul B says:

            @Paul B, I get the same authoritarianism out of the Republic- it’s a lot like what Jason posted above about the Bhagavad Gita- there’s the truth that is extremely hard to reach for most of us, and then there’s the understanding of the ignorant that makes them behave well by other means. But, like Jason says, it’s not a lie in the Bhagavad Gita- in the Republic, it really is a lie.

            But, like you say, it’s possible that we’re taking Socrates too literally.Report

  7. Mike Schilling says:

    Is a thing holy because it is loved by God, or is it loved by God because it is holy.

    I’m going to make a really clumsy analogy here; pleas bear with me.

    Consider the question “why do heavy and light things fall at the same rate?” Newton’s theory of gravity gives a somewhat indirect answer . If A is twice as heavy as B, the force of gravity on A is twice the force on B, but since it takes twice as much force to accelerate A as B, the result is the same. I.e first you multiply by the mass, then you divide by it, so the two operations cancel each other out, and the result is the same regardless of the mass.

    This led to deep questions about whether the two kinds of mass (gravitational and inertial) are always the same, or whether under some circumstances they differ, so that an object’s acceleration would depend on its mass is unexpected ways. (Deep and unanswered questions.)

    Then came a deeper insight, the General Theory of Relativity, which sees gravity as a curving of space, not a force. An object’s path is deflected by gravity because of this curvature, irrespective of its mass, for the same reason that a bicycle, a car, and a truck all traveling on the same road have to curve by the same amount to stay on it. The deep questions above evaporate as meaningless.

    OK, back to God. If God is the underlying moral order of the universe, Socrates’s question goes away. It arises from a view of God as a Being with likes and dislikes that cannot be determined via a moral calculus. But given the assumption above, what is holy is what God loves, always, because both mean the same thing: in accord with the fundamental moral order.Report

    • Bob Cheeks in reply to Mike Schilling says:

      @Mike Schilling, What if God’s creation is part of the drama of humanity, given in love, for the only being that can ‘dialogue with God?’Report

      • Mike Schilling in reply to Bob Cheeks says:

        What if God’s creation is part of the drama of humanity

        That’s very true. It begins with the creation of a single, non-material, but tribal god by the ancient Hebrews, and deepens with His evolution into a universal God sometime during the Babylonian exile. Christianity represents an unfortunate backsliding into polytheism and conflation of the Divine with the merely human, but Mohamed managed to avoid those temptations, and the God he created was, like the Jewish one, single and purely spiritual.Report

      • Bob Cheeks in reply to Bob Cheeks says:

        @Bob Cheeks,
        Michael, a theologian?Report

  8. Endevour to Persevere says:

    It seems to me that there’s a tremendous amount of faith simply in saying, “I can’t tell what piety consists of, but it’s worth asking the question.”

    Why does acting the question require faith? I’m not sure exactly what you mean here. I may just be dense but humor me.Report

    • Jaybird in reply to Endevour to Persevere says:

      @Endevour to Persevere, here’s my take. If you don’t believe in a moral fabric to the universe, you don’t have a need to ask the question. To get to even a belief in Forms (let alone a deity) to which piety is an appropriate response, you have to make a leap.

      “Of what does piety consist?” is a nonsense (though well-formed) question in a morally void Reality. It doesn’t consist of anything. It is not. It’s like asking what traits Martians have… they don’t exist. You can’t say that they’re tall or that they’re short or that they’re fat or that they’re skinny. They are not.

      (That’s my best shot.)Report

      • Rufus F. in reply to Jaybird says:

        @Jaybird, That’s what I was getting at- there’s a leap of faith in the assumption that the void cares what we do, or that it might.Report

      • Mike Schilling in reply to Jaybird says:

        The classic statement of ascribing qualities to nonexistent entities is asking whether thepPresent King of France is bald. (Bertrand Russell says no, because he interprets this statement as “There exists an X which is a present King of France, and all Y’s that are present Kings of France are the same person as X, and X is bald.” But that’s just a sleight of hand to give the statement a meaning.)Report

  9. Endevour to Persevere says:

    Nevertheless, once a week or so, I walk a block down the street to jawbone about religion with Father Paul.

    Every time I try that we can never get past the preliminaries. Maybe I need to find better educated (or secular educated) clergy.Report

  10. sam says:

    The dramatic chronology of the dialogues is worth thinking about: Euthyphro and Theatetus take place on the day Socrates goes to court to hear the charges against him. Sophist and Statesma on the day following. I don’t think Plato arranges these things by accident.Report

  11. sam says:

    Sorry, that’s Statesman, of course.Report

  12. sam says:

    ” Instead, Confucius and Socrates are two theorists of the social order living in two similar times of social chaos and flux.”

    BTW, there are more intellectual connections than one might suppose. See, Confucius on the Rectification of Names, and then consider Plato’s attempt, via the Theory of Forms, to, in a sense, rectify Greek. (On the need for this, see Thucydides’s account of the revolt at Corcyra, in Book 3, when, he says, the Greek language had lost all meaning. I’ve always believed, in the absence of any evidence I have to say, that Plato had read Thucydides and that that account affected him deeply. (Of course, he personal reasons for trying to get things right, too.)Report

    • Paul B in reply to sam says:

      @sam,

      Interesting thought on Plato and Thucydides; I’m tempted to speculate even further about the Sicilian Expedition and Plato’s time in Syracuse, but I don’t think the timeline is right.

      On a somewhat related topic, it’s odd we don’t consider Herodotus a sophist. He was active in Athens at around the same time as Protagoras, Gorgias, etc. and worked in a similar mode of public quasi-philosophical oratory. Yet as far as I know nobody ever groups them together.Report

    • Rufus F. in reply to sam says:

      @sam, There’s a similar tone to Confucius and Socrates as well. The question above about Confucius’s dogma reminds me of a story in the Analects in which a student asks Confucius a question and gets one clear answer, and another student asks the same question and gets a totally different answer, and Confucius says, of course I gave them different answers- they’re different students who need their own answers. It reminded me strongly of the sort of thing Socrates would say.Report

  13. sam says:

    Plato was in Syracuse long after the Sicilian debacle (he was about 12 or 13 when it took place). As for Herodotus, well, you know, the Father of Lies. I wasn’t aware that he was an orator. My take on him was that he was known about town for the Histories (and latterly, as Thucydides’s whipping boy).Report

    • Paul B in reply to sam says:

      @sam,

      Yeah, I wasn’t thinking that Plato actually participated in the expedition, just that he could have heard some first-hand accounts while he was there. But Dionysus I wasn’t in power during the expedition, and I don’t know who else Plato would have heard it from.

      My understanding is that Herodotus “published” the Histories orally starting in the 440s (and that Thucydides would have heard him), not putting them in writing in the 420s. Don’t know whether he got paid for his speeches, but if he didn’t maybe that’s why Plato gave him a pass.Report

    • Rufus F. in reply to sam says:

      @sam, I have read (damned if I can remember where) verification from his contemporaries that Plato was deeply scarred by the time of the Thirty Tyrants, who we hear just about killed Socrates in the Apology. I think it is possible that the Syracuse Expedition was also troubling for him.Report

  14. sam says:

    ” I have read (damned if I can remember where) verification from his contemporaries that Plato was deeply scarred by the time of the Thirty Tyrants”

    As well he should have been, given it ugliness and given that his uncles Critias and Charmides were among the Thirty.Report