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Francisco J. Gonzalez
For a long time the orthodox view was that Plato recognized the exist-
ence of nonpropositional knowledge and considered it indispensable for
attaining the goal of philosophical inquiry. In recent years, however, this
view has been both explicitly attacked and implicitly discarded, to the
extent that the opposite view appears to have become the one most often
taken for granted today.1 Richard Sorabji has dismissed as a myth the
1 A clear indication of this is the fact that the few scholars today who defend the
existence of nonpropositional knowledge in Plato see themselves as going against
the tide. For example, Terry Penner, in arguing that what Socrates seeks in the Luches
is not knowledge of true propositions about courage but rather some sort of
nonpropositional knowledge of what courage is ('What Laches and Nicias Miss —
And Whether Socrates Thinks Courage Merely a Part of Virtue', Ancient Philosophy
12 [1992] 1-27,23), sees his interpretation as representing 'a quite radical attack on
the widespread modern preoccupation with prepositional knowledge' (25). Even
more symptomatic is the way in which Penner's 'radical attack' in the end conforms.
Penner's argument is that what Socrates seeks to know is not the meaning of courage,
but rather its reference (24). But for Penner the reference of courage is determined by
the sum total of true propositions about courage, so that, while the knowledge of
this reference is distinct from knowing one or a few true propositions about courage,
it is equivalent to knowing all true propositions about courage. But in this case, what
is the point of calling it 'nonpropositional?' Elsewhere Penner admits that his point
'can be translated into a point using propositions' ('Socrates and the Early dia-
logues', in Richard Kraut, ed., The Cambridge Companion to Plato [Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press 1992] 121-69,143). Thomas C. Brickhouse and Nicholas
D. Smith comment on 'how inappropriate it is to attempt to understand Socrates's
epistemology in terms of the conception of knowledge which has received the most
philosophical attention in modern times: "propositional knowledge", or knowledge
that such and such is the case' (Plato's Socrates [New York: Oxford University Press
1994], 43). As shown below, however, they too cannot quite escape this conception.
idea that either Plato or Aristotle or even Plotinus (!) believed that there
could be such a thing as knowledge which is nonpropositional.2 More
focused and thorough, however, has been Gail Fine's attempt in a num-
ber of articles to show that for Plato One knows a thing through or by
knowing certain propositions to be true of it' and that 'even if Plato's
primary concern is knowledge of objects, this concern can readily be
phrased in the modern idiom as knowledge that a particular proposition
is true.'3 For example, Fine has argued that in Republic V belief and
knowledge are not assigned to different kinds of objects (as has often
been thought) but to different sets of propositions.4 There have also been
other 'revisionists.'5
More successful attempts to break away from 'the widespread modern preoccupa-
tion with prepositional knowledge' in the interpretation of Plato can be found in:
Drew A. Hyland, Finitude and Transcendence in the Platonic Dialogues (Albany, NY:
SUNY Press 1995), 179-95; Gerald A. Press, 'Knowledge as Vision in Plato's Dia-
logues', The Journal of Neoplatonic Studies 3 (1995) 61-89; Kenneth Sayre, 'Plato's
Dialogues in the Light of the Seventh Letter' and 'Reply to Jon Moline', in Charles L.
Griswold, Jr., ed., Platonic Writings, Platonic Readings (New York: Routledge, Chap-
man & Hall 1988) 93-109 & 240-46, respectively; Plato's Literary Garden (Notre Dame,
IN: Notre Dame University Press 1995); 'Why Plato Never Had a Theory of Forms',
in John J. Cleary and William Wians, eds., Proceedings of the Boston Area Colloquium
in Ancient Philosophy (1993), vol. 9 (Lanham, MD: University Press of America 1995)
167-99; Christiane Schildknecht, 'Knowledge that the Mind Seeks: The Episternic
Impact of Plato's Form of Discourse', Philosophy and Rhetoric 29 (1996) 225-43;
Wolfgang Wieland, Platan und die Formen des Wissens (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck &
Ruprecht 1982); 'La Critica de Platon a la Escritura y los Limites de la Communica-
bilidad', Methexis 4 (1991) 19-37.
2 'Myths About Non-Propositional thought', in Malcolm Scholfield and Martha
Craven Nussbaum, eds., Language and Logos (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press 1982) 295-314. Sorabji's thesis as it applies to Plotinus has been challenged by
A.C. Lloyd, 'Non-propositional Thought in Plotinus', Phronesis 33 (1986) 258-65, and
Mark Richard Alfino, 'Plotinus and the Possibility of Non-Propositional Thought',
Ancient Philosophy 8 (1989) 273-84.
3 'Knowledge and Logos in the Theaetetus', Philosophical Review 88 (1979) 366-7
4 'Knowledge and Belief in Republic V, Archiv für Geschichte der Philosophie 60 (1978)
121-39; 'Knowledge and Belief in Republic V-VIF, in Stephen Everson, ed., Epistemol-
ogy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 1990) 85-115. This interpretation is
also accepted by Terence Irwin, Plato's Ethics (New York: Oxford University Press
1995), 266-8. For a similar view see R.C. Cross and A.D. Woozley, Plato's Republic:
A Philosophical Commentary (London: Macmillan & Co. Ltd. 1964), 173-5. I argue
9 This is not to say, of course, that this view has not been challenged by philosophers
within the analytical tradition. A good example of such a challenge is Romane Clark,
'Not Every Act of Thought Has a Matching Proposition', Midwest Studies in Philoso-
phy 5 (1980) 509-24.
10 For an excellent explanation and critique of analytical philosophy's rejection or
marginalization of nonpropositional knowledge see Wieland, 'Limites de la Com-
municabilidad', 33-6.
11 For the status quaestionis, see Sayre, Plato's Literary Garden, xviii-xxiii, and my own
Dialectic and Dialogue: Plato's Practice of Philosophical Inquiry (Evanston, IL: North-
western University Press 1998), ch. 9.
12 The Seventh Letter has been interpreted as providing such an argument by Wieland,
Formen des Wissens, 35-8, and Sayre, 'Plato's Dialogues'; Plato's Literary Garden, 10-17;
"Theory of Forms'.
13 A more general defense of the compatibility of the Seventh Letter with the dialogues
(including the Parmenides, Phaedrus and Statesman) is to be found in Sayre, 'Plato's
Dialogues', 97-108; Plato's Literary Garden; "Theory of Forms', 186-93. Sayre, how-
ever, does not address the apparent contradictions, to be discussed below, between
the letter and the Meno.
14 What is denied in this case is precisely the reduction that Fine makes in attributing
to Plato the view that knowledge is completely prepositional: 'Knowledge of things,
for Plato, is description-dependent, not description independent. Second, Plato
tends to speak interchangeably of knowing-* and knowing what χ is ... Thus a
sentence of the form "a knows x" can always be transformed into a sentence of the
form "a knows what χ is"; and the latter, in turn, is readily transformed into "a knows
that χ is F" ('Knowledge and Logos', 366-7).
15 See Wieland, Formen des Wissens, 229-30,233 & 292; Sch dknecht, 227-8.
16 For a defense of the view that prepositional knowledge does not admit degrees, see
N.D. Smith, 'Knowledge by Acquaintance and Knowing What in Plato's Republic',
Dialogue 18 (1979) 281-8,285. Smith also argues that 'acquaintance' does not admit
degrees, but that argument is not convincing. I can say that I am Tjetter acquainted'
with my wife than with my neighbor without meaning simply that I know more
true propositions about her.
17 Wieland's characterization of nonpropositional knowledge in Plato focuses on
practical knowledge in the broadest sense of the word. He assigns to this class 1)
experience (Erfahrung), 2) abilities and skills (F higkeiten und Fertigkeiten), 3) judg-
ment (Urteilskraft), and 4) knowledge of use (Gebrauchswissen). His detailed account
of 'experience', understood as in the phrase 'an experienced doctor', merits being
outlined here. Wieland (Formen des Wissens, 230-3) claims that such 'experience' is
nonpropositional because: 1) it is a disposition that as such cannot be represented in
any statements; 2) its correlate is afield (Wissensfeld) rather than individual objects;
3) its presence is indicated by a person's ability to speak well about the objects within
his field, but it is not constituted by such speech; 4) it cannot be itself objectified, not
being separable even in thought from the person who has it; 5) it is not transferable,
but one must acquire it for oneself; 6) it falls outside the true/false bivalence: even
when an experienced doctor makes mistakes, we do not say that his experience is
false. Wieland claims that these characteristics are analogously true of the other
forms of nonpropositional knowledge he identifies.
18 This is of course the point behind Gilbert Ryle's distinction between 'knowledge
how' and 'knowledge that' (The Concept of Mind [London: Hutchinson & Hutchinson
1949], 25-61). For a critique of attempts to reduce 'knowledge how' to propositional
knowledge, see Wieland, Formen des Wissens, 253.
19 For a defense of the thesis that self-knowledge is nonpropositional, see Wieland,
Formen des Wissens, 309-10. While Wieland uses self-knowledge as an example to
illustrate the reflexive structure he finds in all forms of practical nonpropositional
knowledge (241; on this reflexive structure see 236-52 & 309-22), he denies that Plato
acknowledged the existence of self-knowledge in the modern sense, i.e., in the sense
of a type of knowledge that is purely reflexive and not o/something else (241,310-11,
319).
20 Wieland admits the possibility of this third type of nonpropositional knowledge
that is object-oriented: 'das intuitive, nicht-diskursive und vorpr dikative Erfassen
einer Sache' (Formen des Wissens, 301). However, he is not convinced that Plato
believes the forms can actually be known in this way (302-3). Wieland's discussion
of Russellian 'acquaintance' admits that this acquaintance may be a necessary
component or precondition of knowledge, but denies that it is itself a distinct and
separable type of knowledge (303-4). As a result, Wieland's account of nonpropo-
sitional knowledge in Plato essentially ignores the 'intuitive' type.
Schildknecht's account (228-32), on the other hand, identifies both practical and
intuitive types of nonpropositional knowledge in Plato. While she does not include
self-knowledge, she does recognize, along with Wieland, that nonpropositional
knowledge 'lacks objectifiability' (227). She also sees practical knowledge and
intuitive knowledge as both components of dialectical knowledge (232-4). For my
own account of the reflexive, practical and intuitive character of dialectical knowl-
edge, see my 'Self-Knowledge, Practical Knowledge, and Insight: Plato's Dialectic
and the Dialogue Form', in Francisco J. Gonzalez, ed., The Third Way: New Directions
in Platonic Studies (Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield 1995) 155-87.
21 The failure even to consider the possibility that not all knowledge is propositional
is sometimes justified with the excuse that nonpropositional knowledge could not
be described or even talked about. The fallacy in this excuse is pointed out by
Schildknecht: description of this kind of nonpropositional knowledge [i.e.,
practical knowledge] can, of course, be given in propositions, but this makes
nonpropositional knowledge the object of propositions and thus of propositional
knowledge, and does not render it propositional' (232). See also Wieland, Die Formen
des Wissens, 227,230,234 & 304. Wieland rightly warns against the unfounded and
misleading assumption that 'weil man über jedes Wissen mit Sätzen reden kann,
auch der Inhalt jedes Wissens in Gestalt von Sätzen müßte formulieren und mit-
teilen lassen' (235).
22 I pursue the latter project in my Dialectic and Dialogue.
The 'philosophical digression' of the Seventh Letter is best known for the
claim that the subject matter of philosophy cannot be expressed in words
as other studies can. What concerns us here, however, is the reason
behind this claim. Why is it that the subject matter of philosophy cannot
be expressed in words? The letter's answer is clear: because of the
weakness inherent in λόγος.23 In order, then, to understand the limits of
language in philosophy we need to understand what exactly this weak-
ness is.
There are in fact, according to the letter, three things that are indis-
pensable for the attainment of knowledge: 1) the name of a thing (δνομα),
2) its definition (λόγος), and 3) its image (εϊδωλον). 4) The knowledge
itself is listed as a fourth thing distinct from these three. 5) The object of
knowledge (what 'is truly being,' αληθώς εστίν v, 342bl: apparently the
είδος) is a fifth thing. Each of the three means of attaining knowledge is
described as having its peculiar weakness: 1) a name is unstable because
its application is determined entirely by convention (343a9-b3), 2) a
definition shares the instability of the words that comprise it (343b4-6),
and 3) a sensible image is full of what is opposite to that of which it is
the image (the image of a circle, e.g., a circle drawn or turned on a lathe,
everywhere touches upon a straight line, 343a5-9). The letter claims,
however, that there is a weakness greater than these specific ones, a
weakness it attributes to λόγος. Λόγος here must have a wider meaning
than it does when it is simply one of the means of attaining knowledge:
in the latter case it means 'definition,' but when the weakness of οι λόγοι
is described as the greatest reason for the unclarity of 'the four,' i.e., the
three means and 'knowledge,' λόγοι must refer more generally to 'lan-
guage' as a whole or to 'propositions.'24 But what then is this weakness
that afflicts propositions or language?
23 That the argument of the letter is directed against oral as well as written discourse,
contrary to the view of those who wish to ascribe to Plato Oral doctrines', has been
shown conclusively by, among others, Sayre, 'Plato's Dialogues', 95-7; Review of
Plato and the Foundation of Metaphysics, by HJ. Kr mer, Ancient Philosophy 13 (1993)
167-84; 'Theory of Forms', 180-1.
24 This is also noted by Andreas Graeser, Philosophische Erkenntnis und begriffliche
Darstellung: Bemerkungen zum Erkenntnistheoretischen Exkurs des VII Briefs (Mainz:
Akademie der Wissenschaften und der Literatur 1989), 15.
Furthermore, the four make manifest no less the qualities of a thing (το
ποιόν τι) than its being (το δν) due to the weakness of language (το των
λόγων ασθενές). (342e2-343al, my translation)
Many more reasons can be given to show how each of the four is
unclear, but the greatest is the one we mentioned a little before: given
that the being of an object and its qualities are two different things and
that what the soul seeks to know is not the qualities (το ποιόν τι) but the
"what" (το τί), each of the four offers the soul, both in words and in
deeds, what it does not seek, so that what is said or shown by each of
the four is easily refuted by the senses. As a result they fill practically
everyone with perplexity (απορία) and confusion. (343b6-c5, my trans-
lation)
25 Nicholas White in Plato on Knowledge and Reality (Indianapolis: Hackett 1976), 202-3,
takes the weakness of language to be the lack of a guaranteed correspondence
between words and the forms to which they refer. White can defend this interpre-
tation only by taking the brief mention of the instability of words and logoi out of
context and ignoring (i.e., not even mentioning) what the letter cites as the principal
source of the weakness of language and the cause of the specific defects in the four
means: that they can express only how a thing is qualified and not its being. It is
ironic that elsewhere White criticizes Gadamer for disregarding the connection in
the letter between the point about language and the τι/ποΐόν τι distinction (Obser-
vations and Questions about Hans-Georg Gadamer's Interpretation of Plato', in
Charles L. Griswold, Jr., ed., Platonic Writings, Platonic Readings, 299 no). In this later
piece, White does mention the distinction, but he assumes (wrongly, as I argue
below) that it is a distinction between essential and accidental properties (253).
Furthermore, he paraphrases the letter as claiming that the four means 'encourag[e]
the confusion of fi and poion' (252), when in fact the letter makes the much stronger
claim (at least at 343b6-c5) that the four means offer us το ποιόν τι instead of what
we seek, i.e., το τί.
and essential properties.28 However, that this cannot be the correct inter-
pretation of the distinction as it occurs in the Seventh Letter is made
immediately evident by its failure to satisfy the three criteria. The claim
that language and 'the four' offer us a thing's accidental properties and
not the essential properties that we seek to know seems entirely unrea-
sonable and unfounded. If w and χ are the accidental properties of t and
y and z are its essential properties, why could we not correctly express
t's essential properties in the proposition't is y and z'? Likewise, it is hard
to see how such a proposition could be 'easily refuted by the senses.'
Finally, there appears to be no reason why we could not express in lang-
uage, oral or written, the essential properties of the objects of philosophy.
But if this interpretation of the distinction is rejected, what is the alter-
native?
Perhaps a thing's 'qualities' are all of its properties (accidental and
so-called 'essential'), while its Ijeing' or 'whatness' is what underlies these
properties but cannot be reduced to any or all of them. It is not hard to
see that this interpretation satisfies the criteria. It is reasonable to say that
language can express only the properties of a thing: any proposition
attempting to state what χ is will only be able to predicate properties y
and ζ of it. What the nature of the subject itself is beyond its having
properties y and ζ is something that the proposition cannot articulate or
describe: it can only name it.29 Of course, if the nature of a thing is simply
identical to certain essential properties that can be predicated of it, a
proposition can fully express this nature. If, however, the 'true being' we
28 E.g., see White, Observations', 253, and Gerhard M ller, 'Die Philosophie im
pseudoplatonischen Brief, in Andreas Graeser and Dieter Maue, eds., Platonische
Studien (Heidelberg: Carl Winter Universit tsverlag 1986) 146-71, 151. This inter-
pretation is rightly rejected by Graeser (17) and Margherita Isnardi-Parente, 'Per
L'Interpretazione dell' Excursus Filosofico della VTI Epistola Platonica', Parola del
Passato 19 (1964) 241-90, 281-2. However, Isnardi-Parente seems in the end to
identify the ποίον τι with accidental properties understood as sensible properties
(286), as Sayre also seems to do (Plato's Literary Garden, 15; 'Theory of Forms', 182).
This identification, however, is ruled out by the text: the kind of knowledge called
the 'fourth' in the letter is described as suffering, like the three means, from the
weakness of expressing το ποιόν τι rather than το τί (342e2-3al), even though it is
said to exist only 'in the soul' and not in 'articulate voice' nor in 'the shapes of
physical bodies' (342c4-dl).
29 The early Wittgenstein appears to have a similar distinction in mind when he writes:
'Ein Satz kann nur sagen, wie ein Ding ist, nicht was es isf (Tractatus 3.221).
seek is not reducible to any set of 'predicates' (which is what the letter's
distinction, on this interpretation, maintains), then clearly propositions
must be incapable of offering it to us. Language in this case is weak
indeed.
Furthermore, this interpretation can explain the consequence that
'what is said or shown by each of the four is easily refuted by the senses.'
If no property or set of properties predicated of a thing in a proposition
can exhaust or capture its true being, then any attempt to say what this
thing is can be refuted by means of a counter-example from sense
experience, i.e., something that we call χ but that does not have the
properties by which we attempt to define the nature of x. The view that
no essential definition is immune to refutation leads the author not to
the Wittgensteinian rejection of 'essences' in favor of 'family resem-
blances,'30 but rather to the conclusion that there is a weakness in
language that makes it incapable of expressing such essences.
Finally, the suggested interpretation satisfies the third criterion: if
language in expressing a thing's properties must fail to express its 'true
being,' and if philosophy has as its subject matter precisely the 'true
being' of things (or their φύσις, 341d7), then it follows that the subject
matter of philosophy 'cannot be expressed in words as others studies
can.' Someone who tried to express the nature of things in words,
especially in unretractable and unqualifiable written words, would be a
fool indeed.
While this interpretation of the letter's distinction clearly satisfies the
three criteria, what might appear more difficult is explaining and de-
fending it philosophically. Yet the following reflections may help: from
the fact that our language can express a thing's nature only by predicat-
ing properties of it, it does not follow that this nature is nothing but a
bundle' of properties; in fact, the view that a thing has one nature (one
'true being') may be considered incompatible with the view that this
nature is reducible to a plurality of properties. Of course, this view leaves
Socrates implies here that beauty is not reducible to color, shape or any-
thing like that. This claim is often seen as restricted to sensible properties;
in this case, what Socrates recommends is that beauty be denned in terms
of non-sensible properties. Yet Socrates's 'safe' reply to the question of
31 For example, one might ask: why should we believe that anything remains once we
have abstracted from a thing's properties? This is the kind of objection that has been
made against attempts, e.g., that of John Locke, to find a 'substance' underlying
properties. There is, however, an important difference between the two positions:
while substance is for Locke unknowable, the letter, as seen below, takes the 'true
being' of a thing to be knowable, though inexpressible. The question then is: why
assume the existence of such inexpressible knowledge? The Meno will be seen to
provide some reasons.
why something is beautiful is that beauty makes it so, not that it possesses
certain non-sensible properties in terms of which beauty is defined.
Gregory Vlastos has indeed maintained that the word Tjeauty' is here
only a place-holder for a definition.32 This is only an assertion, however,
and finds no support in the text: not only does Socrates define neither
beauty nor the εϊδη involved in his proof of the soul's immortality, but
he never gives the slightest indication that such a definition plays any
role, not to mention the central role, in his method of explanation.
Furthermore, Vlastos's interpretation renders incomprehensible Socra-
tes's description of his explanations as artless, plain and safe: a definition
of beauty would be anything but that. Finally, when Socrates himself
later offers a 'more sophisticated' type of explanation (105b-c), it too has
nothing to do with defining εϊδη. There is another possible, and I believe
more plausible, interpretation: what Socrates claims to be dangerous is
reducing beauty to any properties, sensible or non-sensible, and then
explaining a thing's beauty as due to those properties. Socrates's auto-
biographical account of his own difficulties with explanation makes
clear what the danger is: if we claim that a thing is beautiful because it
possesses properties A and B, someone will refute us by pointing either
to something else we call beautiful that has properties not-A and not-B
or to something that has properties A and Β but is not beautiful; what
we say will thus, in the words of the Seventh Letter, be 'easily refuted by
the senses.' If the view in the Phaedo thus parallels the view in the letter,
the reason behind both may be the same: that the true nature of a thing
(in this case, beauty) is not reducible to properties that can be asserted
of it. In this case, the 'plainness' and 'simple-mindedness' of Socrates's
theory of explanation is simply a result of the weakness of language: if
language is incapable of expressing the true nature of a thing, then no
definition of beauty is safe from refutation. Consequently, there is only
one safe explanation of why a thing is beautiful: "Through Beauty'.
32 'Reasons and Causes in the Phaedo', in Gregory Vlastos, ed., Plato: A Collection of
Critical Essays. I: Metaphysics and Epistemology (New York: Anchor Books 1971)
132-66; see especially 146,148,154-6. On p. 146 Vlastos gives the following example
of Socrates's aitia: 'Why is this figure a square? Because it has four equal sides and
four equal angles.' Yet this example does not correspond to any of the ones Socrates
himself provides, all of which are of the form: 'Why is this figure a square? Because
it participates in Squareness'.
Only barely (μόγις), when the [three], i.e., names, definitions, as well as
appearances and perceptions, are rubbed against each other (τριβόμενα
προς άλληλα), each of them being refuted through well-meaning [non-
adversarial] refutations (εν εΰμενέσιν έλέγχοις ελεγχόμενα) in a process
35 White (Observations/ 253-4) has seen a distinction in the letter between two kinds
of knowledge: one that suffers from the weakness of the three means by being
discursive and representational and one that transcends this weakness by being
some form of direct intuition. Something like this distinction is also recognized by
Isnardi-Parente (279 & 286) and Graeser (10, 30-1). However, White appears to
believe that the non-defective type of knowledge can altogether transcend the
words, definitions and images to which the defective type is completely confined
(something explicitly denied at 342d8-e2). H-G. Gadamer rightly criticizes this error
('Reply to Nicholas P. White', in Charles L. Griswold, Jr., ed., Platonic Writings,
Platonic Readings, 258-66, 261). However, Gadamer and Ferber (Unwissenheit des
Philosophen, 41-2 and 76 nlOl, though he allows that the word επιστήμη has both a
narrower and a broader meaning) fall into the opposite error of recognizing in the
letter nothing but the defective kind of knowledge that is one of 'the four'. The
passage that most clearly rules this out is 343el-3: 'Yet the process of dealing with
all four [πάντων αυτών must refer to the four], moving up and down to each one,
barely gives birth to knowledge of the ideal nature [i.e., "the fifth" or "true being"]
in someone with an ideal nature.' The knowledge that is one of the four means
cannot be the same as the knowledge that results from movement through these
means. Furthermore, this resulting knowledge is of 'the fifth', while the knowledge
that is one of the 'four' has the weakness of offering το ποιόν τι in place of 'the fifth'.
The text therefore demands that we find a middle ground between the interpretation
of White and that of Gadamer and Ferber. While there are, contra Gadamer and
Ferber, two kinds of knowledge here, propositional and nonpropositional, they are
not, contra White, independent of each other, but instead are united in the dialectical
process. Nonpropositional knowledge of the fifth can be attained and maintained
only through the constant mediation of our defective propositional knowledge (the
fourth), and even then just barely (μόγις). While there is the possibility of direct
intuition here, this intuition is not something that is possessed fully, once and for
all, but rather something that we must constantly toil to capture and recapture by
defective means of knowledge that are never adequate to the task (see Luigi
Stefanini, Platane [Padova: CEDAM 1932], xxxiii).
mistake. One can say of such knowledge only whether it is present and
in what degree.
The other myth is that nonpropositional knowledge is completely
incompatible with any kind of discursive thought. On the contrary,
according to the passage cited above, while the knowledge attained is
nonpropositional, the process by which it is attained, the 'rubbing to-
gether/ is completely discursive. In short, the view that nonproposi-
tional knowledge must be some form of mystical rapture that completely
dispenses with discursive reasoning and provides a total revelation of
the truth is a caricature.
Even once these two myths are dispelled, important questions remain.
What exactly is the process of 'rubbing together'? And, more impor-
tantly, how can the 'rubbing together' of discursive and defective means
of knowledge produce knowledge that transcends these defects and is
nondiscursive?39 The Seventh Letter does not provide answers to these
questions. It is therefore necessary to turn at this point to the dialogues
in order to see if they suggest a similar characterization of knowledge as
nonpropositional and if they can shed more light on the mysterious
process whereby this knowledge is attained.
for any knowledge about what is or is not virtuous (and thus is not committed to
the 'Socratic fallacy')/ but only for 'moral wisdom' understood as the knowledge
required to make correct judgments about all instances of virtue (45-60). Yet it is
consistent with the texts to go further than Brickhouse and Smith by claiming that
for Socrates 1) such moral expertise based on definitions is in principle unattainable
and 2) the knowledge of virtue we are capable of possessing has instead the
character of nonpropositional insight. Brickhouse and Smith grant that the only
method of questioning that Socrates practices and urges others to practice, i.e., the
elenchos, is not likely to lead to 'wisdom' (42). How far is this admission from claim
1)? Furthermore they recognize the inappropriateness of characterizing Socrates's
epistemology in terms of prepositional knowledge (43). But 2) is not an option for
them because they are committed to the invalid inference I criticize. Among the few
who do not make this inference is Sarah L. Rappe, who correctly argues that the
goal of the Socratic elenchus is not to provide definitions but to promote self-knowl-
edge, where this self-knowledge involves the 'aporetic realization that virtue cannot
be defined but only lived' ('Socrates and Self-Knowledge,' Apeiron 28 [1995] 1-24,
17). However, even Rappe slips into assuming, even at the cost of inconsistency,
that Socrates wants good definitions (4).
'But we will have clear knowledge about this matter when before asking
in what way virtue comes to be in humans we attempt to search for what
virtue is in itself and by itself (αυτό καθ' αυτό ζητεΐν τί ποτ' εστίν αρετή,
lOObo). But how are we to understand this distinction in the Meno be-
tween what a thing is and how it is qualified? Is it, like the one attributed
to the letter above, a distinction between all of a thing's properties (which
can be defined) and what the thing itself is (which cannot be defined)?
An affirmative answer appears to be suggested by the analogy Socra-
tes uses to illustrate the distinction: one cannot know, he claims, whether
Meno is handsome, rich and well-born or the opposite if one does not
know altogether who Meno is (μη γιγνώσκει το παράπαν όστις εστίν,
71b5-6). Some interpreters46 have understood this analogy between the
knowledge of virtue and the knowledge of Meno as showing that the
former, like the latter, is a knowledge by acquaintance and thus nonpropo-
sitional. These interpreters have been justly criticized for jumping the
gun.47 After all, not everything that is true of one term of an analogy need
be true of the other term.
However, the analogy of 'knowing who Meno is' also cannot be com-
pletely disanalogous. Let us consider the view of those who want to
maintain that the knowledge of virtue is here completely propositional
and has nothing to do with any kind of direct acquaintance. Presumably,
on this view Socrates's distinction is one between propositional knowl-
edge of the essential properties of virtue (τί εστίν) and propositional
knowledge of its accidental properties (όποιον τι).48 Socrates's 'priority
principle' would then be equivalent to the Aristotelian view that one
46 See R.S. Bluck, Plato's Meno (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 1961), 213-4,
and J.T. Bedu-Addo, 'Sense Experience and Recollection in Plato's Meno', American
Journal ofPMology 104 (1983) 228-48,230-3.
47 For the criticisms see Alexander Nehamas, 'Meno's Paradox and Socrates as
Teacher', in Hugh H. Benson, ed., Essays on the Philosophy of Socrates (New York;
Oxford University Press 1992) 298-316, 300; Gail Fine, 'Inquiry in the Meno', in
Richard Kraut, ed., The Cambridge Companion to Plato (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press 1992) 200-26, 225-6 n42; R.W. Sharpies, Plato: Meno (Chicago:
Bolchazy-Carducci Publishers 1985), 125.
48 E. Seymer Thompson's uncommonly detailed discussion of the distinction inter-
prets it in this way (The Meno of Plato [London: Macmillan & Co. 1901; reprinted
New York: Garland Publishing, Inc. 1980], 63-5). This interpretation is assumed by
Fine, 'Inquiry in the Meno', 216 n6.
must know a thing's essential properties before one can truly know its
nonessential properties.49 But on this interpretation, either the priority of
'knowing who Meno is' is not analogous to the priority of knowing what
virtue is or we must believe that we cannot know any of Meno's 'acci-
dental' properties, e.g., that he is from Thessaly, is beautiful and is
wealthy, before we know his 'essential' properties, whatever those might
be. Yet even if this latter view is defensible, it could hardly be advanced
by Socrates, and accepted by Meno, as something self-evident. On the
other hand, if Socrates's distinction is, like the one in the Seventh Letter,
a distinction between prepositional knowledge of all of a thing's prop-
erties and nonpropositional knowledge of the thing itself, and if the
'priority principle' therefore maintains that knowledge of a thing's prop-
erties presupposes nonpropositional acquaintance with the thing itself,
then the priority of 'knowing who Meno is' is both analogous and self-
evident: before truly knowing any of Meno's properties, accidental or
essential, we must be acquainted with who Meno is. For example, we
cannot truly know that Meno is from Thessaly, unless we are acquainted
with the person to whom the name 'Meno' refers. One could of course
counter that we know who Meno is by reading about him in the dia-
logues.50 Yet Socrates's point could be precisely that such book-knowl-
edge is not, strictly speaking, knowledge of who Meno is. Reading about
Meno can be the basis of true beliefs about Meno's properties, but this
may not constitute knowing who Meno is.51 Similarly you can acquire
through the medium of words true beliefs about the properties of virtue,
but such beliefs perhaps cannot take the place of direct acquaintance
with what virtue is (τί εστίν).
There is no indication here of what the exact nature of this nonpropo-
sitional acquaintance would be and the aim of the present discussion is
only to determine whether or not the dialogue recognizes the existence
of such a thing. Yet the above sketch of possible candidates for nonpro-
positional knowledge defines the options. If we stress the personal and
practical dimension of acquaintance with Meno, then the suggestion
might be that the knowledge of virtue is a form of acquaintance by reason
49 Fine appeals to Aristotle's Posterior Analytics 11-10 as a text in which this view is
defended ('Inquiry in the Meno', 207 n!3). See also II10,93b29-94al9.
50 This is Fine's objection ('Inquiry in the Meno', 226 n42).
51 See Bedu-Addo, 231.
52 Kenneth Dorter's reason for claiming that '[t]he wisdom of the good person is not
prepositional' ('Levels of Knowledge in the Theaetetus', Review of Metaphysics 44
[1990] 343-73,373) is that in this wisdom 'what we know and what we are coincide'
(372). Dorter also explains that for Plato 'knowledge of the highest things requires
an inner recognition that is inseparable from our devotion to those things' (373).
53 The notion of 'knowledge by acquaintance' is most often associated with Bertrand
Russell, who defines it as follows: 1 say that I am acquainted with an object when I
have a direct cognitive relation to that object, i.e., when I am directly aware of the
object' ('Knowledge by Acquaintance and Knowledge by Description', in Mysticism
and Logic [London: Unwin Books 1963] 152-67,152). However, as should be clear
from what is said above, my use of the word 'acquaintance' in this paper is broader
in recognizing the practical and personal dimensions this notion has in ordinary
discourse.
It is apparently the narrower, Russellian sense of 'acquaintance' that is operative
in Smith's attempt to show that knowledge for Plato is 'a blend of knowledge by
acquaintance and knowing what' (283), where 'knowing what' is the knowledge of
propositions stating truths essential to the nature of the object. A richer sense of
'acquaintance' may have made a true blend possible here; as it is, Smith's Tjlend'
seems more a juxtaposition of disparate elements.
Now let us go right back to the Meno and take the very simple example
there which we discussed in detail, when Plato asks what is figure, i.e.,
asks for the είδος of figure. How does he think the request should be
met? Not, it is clear, by, as it were, holding up a substantial entity and
saying: now look at this, this is named "figure", have a good look at it,
get thoroughly acquainted with it, and then you will know figure. Not
at all. The move in giving the είδος of figure, in answering the question
"what is figure", is to make a statement—"figure is the limit of a solid",
and this is regarded as a satisfactory answer. The είδος of figure has
been displayed in the logos, and displayed in the predicate of the logos.
('Logos and Forms in Plato', 446-7)
But this "What is x?" question, which admittedly occurs in later dia-
logues also, need mean no more than that Plato believed a search for
definitions to facilitate the attainment of knowledge of the Forms. If the
Platonic εϊδε were truly knowable only by "acquaintance," there might
still be occasion to employ definition as an aid to Recollection and the
practice of Dialectic. Although the nature of any such reality could not
be adequately grasped or conveyed by language, human thinking is
conditioned by the words we use.54
54 'Logos and Forms in Plato: A Reply to Professor Cross', Mind 65 (1956) 522-9,525.
I refer here to the Cross/Bluck debate because it was the last serious debate in
Anglo-American scholarship on the subject of nonpropositional versus preposi-
tional knowledge in Plato.
In this way Bluck shows that Cross is wrong in believing that the present
passage rules out nonpropositional knowledge.
Yet another objection can be made to Cross's reading. In order to count
as any kind of evidence against the view that the knowledge of virtue is
for Socrates nonpropositional, the present passage must be taken as a
straightforward presentation of Socrates's views. The irony of the pas-
sage is, however, so pronounced that it rather counts against the 'prepo-
sitional' interpretation. This irony is betrayed by the following:
1) Given Socrates's demand that Meno state what virtue is (τί έστνν),
it is hard to imagine a worse example than the one he gives. How can
the definition of figure as 'the only thing that always accompanies color'
be construed as a statement of what figure is (τί εστίν)? This definition
may state something true about figure, but it tells us nothing about what
figure is 'in itself and by itself.'55 'Always accompanying color' is no more
intrinsic to what figure is than Tjeing teachable' is to what virtue is.
Therefore, while other philosophers might find the present definition
acceptable, Socrates cannot because it undermines his own distinction
between how a thing is qualified (ποιόν τι) and what it is (τί εστίν). The
example is especially disastrous if, counter to what is argued above,
Socrates sees this distinction as one between accidental and essential
properties: anyone who wanted to state the essential versus the acciden-
tal properties of figure would hardly choose the property of 'always
accompanying color.'
2) It is true that Socrates proceeds to give an apparently more satis-
factory definition of figure as 'the limit of a solid' (στέρεου πέρας, 76a7).
However, he provides this definition only because Meno absurdly ob-
jects (75c2-7) that the first definition leaves color undefined (as if all the
terms of every definition could be defined without an infinite regress
and as if the terms 'limit' and 'solid' were in any less need of definition
than the term 'color'!) If Socrates is seeking a statement of essential
properties, then not only should he not have proposed the first defini-
tion, but, having made this mistake, he should now at least recognize its
great inferiority to the second definition. Instead, Socrates insists that the
first definition is true (75c8) and gives no indication that the second one
55 For a similar objection, see Jane M. Day's introduction to Plato's Meno in Focus (New
York: Routledge 1994), 20. See also I.M. Crombie, 'Socratic Definition', in the same
collection 172-207,188.
is any better.56 Indeed, there may even be evidence that he prefers the
first one, though this point is disputed among interpreters.57
3) What is not in dispute is that Socrates has nothing but contempt for
the third example of a definition he provides in order to please Meno,
the follower of Gorgias: color is 'an effluence of figures commensurate
with sight and perceptible by it' (απορροή οχημάτων όψει σύμμετρος και
αισθητός, 76d4-5). While Meno likes this definition best (it is the sort he
is used to, Socrates explains at 76d8), Socrates expresses his conviction
that the definition of figure is better (76e7). But why does Socrates think
this? In form (and the truth of the content appears not to be at issue in
these examples) the definition of color appears by far the best: rather than
defining the definiendum in terms of its relation to something else (color
in the case of the first definition, a solid in the case of the second), the
definition of color attempts to state exactly what color itself is by first
telling us that it is an effluence and then specifying what kind: an
effluence of figures commensurate with sight and perceptible by it. This
definition therefore appears to be the example that Meno should be
56 In Socrates: Ironist and Moral Philosopher (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press 1991),
Gregory Vlastos is so determined to use the second definition of figure as evidence
for Plato's new interest in geometry that he does not even acknowledge the existence
of the first definition (120-2) and instead concludes that 'with the geometrical
definition... he [Socrates] has no fault to find' (122). It is of course true that Socrates
does not explicitly criticize the second definition, but his failure to express any
preference for it over the first definition is sufficiently damaging for Vlastos's view.
For a definitive critique of Vlastos's use of the present passage see Kenneth Seeskin,
'Vlastos on Elenchus and Mathematics', Ancient Philosophy 13 (1993) 37-53, 40-42.
For the many problems with the second definition and the argument that it is not
the model definition many take it to be, see Crombie, 194, and especially G.E.R.
Lloyd, 'The Meno and the Mysteries of Mathematics', Phronesis 37 (1992) 166-83,
175-6.
57 At 74e4 Socrates refers to the definition of figure and then claims at 74e7 that it is
better than the definition of color. Which definition of figure is Socrates referring to
here? W.K.C. Guthrie thinks that he is referring to the second one (A History of Greek
Philosophy, vol. 4 [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 1975], 249 nl), but Jacob
Klein thinks he is referring to the first (A Commentary on Plato's Meno [Chapel Hill:
University of North Carolina Press 1965], 70). The text itself cannot decide this
dispute. However, Klein's interpretation receives a good deal of support from the
simple fact that Socrates offers the second definition to satisfy Meno's desire for
technical-sounding terms, while he offers the first one entirely of his own volition
and claims to be perfectly satisfied with it.
appears to be held hostage between circularity and regress, and with it the possibil-
ity of discursive knowledge that depends upon language for its acquisition' (Plato's
Literary Garden, 50).
61 'Is Metaphysics Possible?' The Review of Metaphysics 45 (1991) 235-57,251
62 The Limits of Analysis (New York: Basic Books 1980), 107
Socrates, however, points out that the area of a square with sides of four
feet would be four times four or sixteen: four times, rather than twice, as
large as the previous square. Since the slave now realizes that the length
of the side of a square with an area of eight feet must be less than four
and yet more than two, he reasons that it is three feet. Socrates, however,
points out that a square with a side of three feet would have an area of
three times three or nine. At this point the slave is completely perplexed,
just like Meno, Socrates observes. And the slave's perplexity is under-
standable. He has been shown that the length of the side in question is
greater than two, less than four, and yet not three. What else could it be?
What numbers are left?
The slave's perplexity is justified indeed: the side for whose length
Socrates is asking him cannot be measured arithmetically as was the side
of the original square (two feet), since expressed numerically it would
be the square root of eight, or what moderns would call an 'irrational
number'. This side is incommensurable with the other. In the Laws, the
Athenian Stranger criticizes his fellow Greeks (including himself at an
earlier time) for believing that all lengths are commensurable (i.e., 'meas-
urable in terms of each other': μετρητά προς άλληλα, 819elO-ll) and
insists that some lengths cannot be thus measured, either approximately
or exactly (μήτε σφόδρα μήτε ήρεμα, SZOaS).63 Yet what the Athenian
Stranger claims to be impossible is precisely what Socrates initially
demands of the slave: that he 'count exactly' (ειπείν ακριβώς ... άριθμεΐν,
83ell) the length of an incommensurable side.64 'But,' it will be objected,
'the point of the whole episode is that the slave is not left in perplexity
but, with minimal guidance from Socrates, comes to see for himself what
the right side is.' This is of course true, but what is significant is the nature
of the knowledge (or, more precisely, opinion) that the slave attains at
the end of the discussion. It is not what Socrates originally demanded,
i.e., an exact arithmetical statement of the length of the side of a square
with an area of eight feet. The slave can no more state this length at the
end of the discussion than he could at the beginning. Faced with the
slave's aporia, Socrates offers him an alternative to the original demand:
the alternative of simply pointing to the sought side.65 By drawing this
side as part of a diagram (as the diagonal of a square with an area of four
feet) Socrates then gradually leads the slave to the recognition that this is
the side they are looking for. What is gained, then, is a certain insight or
recognition, not the impossible prepositional knowledge that Socrates's
initial question sought. One might want to argue that what is gained is
the belief that 'the side of a square with an area of eight feet is the diagonal
of a square with an area of four feet'. However, while the slave indeed
has this prepositional belief at the end of the discussion, it is only a
consequence of, and not identical to, the recognition Socrates awakens
in him. Socrates introduces the word 'diagonal' (διάμετρον), attributed
to 'the sophists',66 only after the slave has recognized and pointed to the
correct side (85b4). Furthermore, since Socrates must simply tell the slave
what this technical term is, it and the above proposition are not what is
recollected. Most importantly, this proposition, while expressing the re-
lation of the side of a square with an area of eight feet to a square with
an area of four feet, does not express what this side is in the sense of
Socrates's original demand, i.e., does not state its length. In other words,
even if we do have a proposition at the end, it is not a proposition that
answers the question that drove the slave into aporia. The closest the boy
comes to such an answer is not this proposition, which he could have
been taught while still believing that the side in question is three or four
feet long, but the recognition: 'That's the side whose length I am
strangely unable to state!'
65 Socrates asks, "Από ποίας γραμμής;' and the slave answers, "Από ταύτης' (85bl-2).
Klein describes very well how the solution sought is indefinable and yet compre-
hensible: The solution cannot be expressed numerically: the length of each of those
lines is "unspeakable", is an arreton. It can only be pointed at. But we comprehend,
as the slave does, that this inexpressible length is the length of the sides of the double
square' (185). Michel Narcy, in an extraordinarily perceptive discussion of this
episode, also emphasizes the indeterminable character of the knowledge sought (Le
Philosophe et son double: un commentaire de l'Euthydeme de Platan [Paris: J. Vrin 1984],
136).
66 See Brown, 71-3.
67 Bedu-Addo recognizes this parallel between the impossibility of giving 'an abso-
lutely accurate, arithmetically correct answer to the problem of doubling the square
whose side is 2 feet' and the impossibility of 'express[ing] the ουσία of virtue in a
definition' (246). So do Paul Friedl nder (Plato, trans. Hans Meyerhoff, vol. 2 [New
York: Bollingen Foundation 1964], 283) and especially Narcy (136).
68 Sharpies proposes the explanation that Socrates needed a problem whose solution
'would be obvious once stated, but difficult enough for the slave boy to go astray
at first' (151). Yet as Brown points out (77), Socrates could have met this need with
the problem of quadrupling the square, in which case he could have led the slave to
see that the side of a square with four times the area would be not four nor three,
but two times as large as the side of the original square. This problem would be
'difficult enough,' but would altogether avoid incommensurable lengths.
ledge of some proposition about it, has the character of direct 'acquain-
tance.' The slave cannot state what the side is, but he can see it and
recognize it. The transformation of his belief into knowledge through
'further questioning' (85c-d), whatever greater insight it may provide,
will not make him better able to state the side's inexpressible length. The
suggestion, then, is that the knowledge of virtue is likewise not knowl-
edge of propositions reducing virtue to a plurality of properties, but
rather some sort of 'acquaintance' with the nature of virtue as a whole,
in itself and by itself. As to the exact nature of this acquaintance, some
possibilities have been suggested above. What is important for the
purposes of this paper, however, is the negative claim: that the knowl-
edge of virtue is not knowledge of a proposition.
3) If the above interpretation is correct and if Socrates's discussion
with the slave can be seen as a schematic illustration of what occurs in
all of the 'aporetic' dialogues, then what these dialogues seek can no
more be stated in words than the square root of eight can be given exact
numerical expression. Socrates's 'What is xT question is never answered
for the simple reason that it is unanswerable: a result that is also implied
by the argument of the Seventh Letter.® The other implication is that the
knowledge actually sought in these dialogues (and perhaps attained?) is
not prepositional or definitional, but instead has the character of direct
'acquaintance' or insight.
4) The claim that Socrates, both in the Meno and in the 'aporetic'
dialogues, is not in fact seeking definitional knowledge confronts the
inevitable question: Why, then, did he ask for definitions? Two possible
answers have been offered above: Socrates uses the demand for defini-
tions as a means of undermining the self-conceit of his interlocutors
and/or he believes that the attempt to answer the 'What is xT question
is an indispensable means of arriving at the nonpropositional knowledge
he seeks. The present episode illustrates both motives. The slave is open
to the insight and recognition he attains at the end of the discussion only
because the failure to answer Socrates's initial question has disabused
him of the view that the side has an expressible length. The question
'What is virtue?' works in the same way. Meno is the one, and not
Socrates, who thinks he has a completely adequate and easily expressible
knowledge of virtue (he even lectures on virtue all the time! 80b2-3).
69 This implication has been noted by Ferber, Unwissenheit des Philosophen, 47.
70 'Anamnesis in the Meno', Dialogue 4 (1965) 143-67, 153 n!4. For another, related
critique of Vlastos, see James Blachowicz, 'Platonic "True Belief" and the Paradox
of Inquiry', The Southern Journal of Philosophy 33 (1995) 403-29,425-6 nn. 11 & 16.
71 For such a discussion see my Dialectic and Dialogue, ch. 6.
72 Unlike Fine and Irwin, Blachowicz recognizes that the true belief presupposed by
recollection must be a preconceptual, nondiscursive acquaintance that is reliable
independently of any subsequent account that could be given of it (413-6,421).
the first time and thus would not solve Meno's paradox.73 This fact is the
rock upon which all attempts to explain recollection with a conception
of knowledge as fully explicit and propositional must shatter.74
If recollection is understood in the way suggested, then the possibility
of philosophical inquiry can be defended as follows: 1) Already contain-
ing 'within' ourselves a knowledge of virtue, we begin the inquiry with
a tacit and obscure awareness of what virtue is; 2) this awareness enables
us, under questioning, to distinguish between true and false statements
about virtue and, more importantly, to recognize that and how a pro-
posed definition fails to express adequately the nature of virtue; 3)
73 White states the problem succinctly and forcefully: 'So it must be claimed possible
to recognize the previously known and unrecollected in a way in which it is not
possible to recognize the previously unknown' (Plato on Knowledge, 50). White
apparently does not see any way of distinguishing the 'known and unrecollected'
from the simply 'unknown' and therefore considers Plato's solution unsuccessful.
Irwin appears oblivious to this problem when he writes: 'For if we actually knew
moral truths before we were born, it is reasonable to expect that we will have true
moral beliefs when we begin inquiry and that we will be able to elicit more in the
course of inquiry' (136). But if this knowledge is completely forgotten and does not
continue to be in us implicitly or tacitly, how can it have any effect on our present
beliefs? What is Irwin's 'reasonable expectation' based on?
74 As Marjorie Grene has rightly observed, 'If we insist that all cognitive acts are wholly
explicit, that we can know only what is plainly, or even verbally, at the centre of our
attention, then, indeed, we can not escape the puzzlement of Meno's question' (The
Knower and the Known [London: Faber & Faber 1966], 23). Michael L. Morgan has
rightly criticized other scholars for failing to recognize that the solution of Meno's
paradox depends on the existence of truths in the soul that are not grasped or
affirmed ('How does Plato Solve the Paradox of Inquiry in the MenoT, in J.P. Anton
and A. Preus, eds., Essays in Ancient Greek Philosophy 3: Plato [Albany: SUNY Press
1989] 169-82, 177). Morgan can explain the existence of such ungrasped truths,
however, only by characterizing them as 'internal sentences,' by which I take him
to mean implicit propositions. The problem with this characterization is that Socrates's
solution requires not only that knowledge be already 'in us,' but also that it be, if
only partially and dimly, available to us in such a way as to affect the judgments
we make and the opinions we have. A proposition, however, is either explicitly
known or is not known at all: propositional knowledge does not admit degrees
('explicitly known' includes here propositions stored in one's memory after being
explicitly known). What then would it mean to 'possess' propositions without
explicitly grasping them? A helpful attempt to come to terms with Plato's belief in
the existence of latent knowledge is Kelly Ross, 'Non-Intuitive Immediate Knowl-
edge', Ratio 29 (1987) 163-79.
75 See R.S. Bluck's claim that even δόξα is nonpropositional ('Knowledge by Acquain-
tance in Plato's Theaetetus', Mind 72 [1963] 259-63,259).
76 Theodor Ebert finds the account of recollection in the Phaedo incoherent (Sokrates als
Pythagoreer und die Anamnesis in Platans Phaidon. [Stuttgart: Franz Steiner 1994],
51-85) only because he fails to see that this second step presupposes some sort of
tacit awareness: see my review in Journal of the History of Philosophy 34 (1996) 452-4.
We have seen that in both the Seventh Letter and the Meno a distinction
is made between what a thing is (τί εστίν) and how it is qualified (ποιόν
τι). At the end of Book I of the Republic Socrates makes a similar distinc-
tion and asserts the same priority maintained in the Meno. How, he asks,
can we possibly know something about justice (περί αύτοΰ, i.e., whether
it is knowledge and a virtue or the opposite, 354b5-6), if we do not first
know what it is (8 τί ποτ' εστίν, 354b4-6, cl-3)? This distinction between
what justice is and what is true about it appears even less amenable than
that of the Meno or the Seventh Letter to being identified with a distinction
78 'Socrates offers a definition of the just city and the just man; he never even asks for
a definition of Justice itself. Can Plato have abandoned the view that to know the
meaning of "justice" is to know the Form of Justice? Or does he have a motive for
leaving this doctrine more or less in the background?' (Charles Kahn, "The Meaning
of "Justice" and the Theory of Forms', Journal of Philosophy 69 [1972] 567-79, 570).
Kahn himself assumes that a definition of 'justice itself is possible, claiming that it
has only been deferred on account of Plato's wish to keep his moral argument and
his political scheme for a good society maximally independent of his metaphysics.
languageofthepresentpassagesuggeststhatSocratesisaddressingonly
the kind of question that the Meno and the Seventh Letter distinguish
from the 'What is xT question: 'What kind of a thing is xT or 'What
can be said about x?' or 'What are some of the properties of xl'
2) At several points in the dialogue Socrates makes a distinction
between philosophical virtue and 'demotic' virtue or the virtue of the
ordinary citizen (e.g., 500d4-8, 619c7-dl).79 Given this distinction, we
must ask if Socrates's definitions define distinctly 'philosophical' virtue
and thereby provide us with a philosophical knowledge of virtue. We do
not need to speculate, since Socrates is explicit about the answer. When
Glaucon agrees to accept Socrates's definition of courage, Socrates
replies: 'Do so and you will be right in accepting it, with the reservation
(γε) that it is the courage of a citizen (πολιτικήν) [which is being
defined]. Some other time, if you wish, we will discuss it more properly
(έτι κάλλιον δύμεν).' (430c3-5) Socrates does not repeat this reservation
in defining the other virtues, but he gives us no indication that these
other definitions are markedly superior to that of courage. Indeed, the
definition of justice itself is surprisingly qualified and tentative: "This
doing one's own work, then, when it occurs in a certain way (τρόπον τινά
γιγνόμενον), is probably (κινδυνεύει) justice' (433b3-4). This is not an
unimportant qualification. To understand the true nature of justice one
presumably must know the specific way in which one should do one's
own work (which requires knowing what is the good way, which in
turn requires knowing what the good is). But this is precisely what the
definition leaves unstated. It should be recalled that the problem with
Meno's definition of virtue as 'desiring fine things and being able to
acquire them' is that it does not specify how fine things are to be
acquired, even though it is in this 'how' that virtue is to be found.
Socrates's definition of justice describes a characteristic or quality true
of anything that is just, but his own qualification reveals an important
sense in which the definition does not tell us what justice is. In
conclusion, Socrates does not appear to see any of his definitions in
What I aim to show below is that Kahn's assumption is just that, rather than a
conclusion necessitated by anything in the text.
79 This distinction is also made in the Phaedo 82alO-b3.
And do you not call the person who is able to exact an account of the
essence of each thing (τον λόγον εκάστου λαμβάνοντα της ουσίας) a
dialectician? And when someone cannot do this, to the extent that he
cannot render an account to himself and others (λόγον αΰτω τε και άλλφ
διδόναι), you will not say that he possesses full insight (νους) into the
matter? (534b3-6)
80 Irwin claims that the definitions of virtue in the Republic do not satisfy the demands
of the Socratic dialogues, since they do not succeed in defining the virtues in
non-moral terms (263). If Irwin is correct, then each of these definitions is vulnerable
to Socrates's criticism of Meno's final definition of virtue, i.e., that it includes among
its terms a part of the virtue to be defined and is thus circular (see note 59 for criticism
of Irwin's view that Socrates believed this circularity to be avoidable). According to
Irwin, however, this circularity was acceptable to Plato in the Republic who believed
both that the virtues could be understood only in terms of the good and that the good
could be understood only in terms of the connexions between the virtues (273). On
this view, the good is not 'something independent of the virtues and other specific
goods, but ... the appropriate combination and arrangement of them' (273). But
what evidence is there for this interpretation? It appears to rest on two assumptions:
that knowledge of the good must be prepositional and that the good cannot be
defined independently of the virtues. I accept the latter assumption, but argue below
that nothing in the text requires the former.
Socrates proceeds to claim that someone who is unable to mark off the
good from other things through an account (διορίσασθαι τω λόγφ) cannot
be said to know the good (534b8-dl). Is it not thereby made perfectly
clear that the dialectician's knowledge is prepositional, i.e., knowledge
of an account or definition?
That this conclusion does not in fact follow has been noted by, among
others, Kenneth Sayre. Sayre rightly points out that the claim that the
dialectician must be able to give a λόγος of a thing's ουσία does not entail
that the dialectician's knowledge of a thing's ουσία consists in having
such a λόγος and is therefore prepositional.81 In other words, the cited
passage does not claim that the dialectician knows the essence of a thing
precisely in exacting an account of it. The knowledge that allows the
dialectician to give an account and to separate the good from other εϊδη
can itself be nonpropositional, where this means that it does not consist
of, nor is exhausted by, any such 'accounts.'
But even if one accepts Sayre's reading, does not this passage of the
Republic at least suggest, in contradiction to the Seventh Letter, that a
thing's 'true being' can be defined in a proposition? This is the case only
if expressions such as 'exacting an account' (λόγον λαμβάνειν) and
'giving an account' (λόγον διδόναι) are taken to refer to the act of
presenting a perfectly adequate definition.82 However, such an interpre-
tation is not demanded by the text and indeed appears unwarranted. The
ability to 'give a λόγος' is usually coupled, in the Republic as well as in
other dialogues,83 with the ability to 'receive a λόγος': Socrates charac-
81 See Sayre, 'Reply to Moline', 245; Plato's Literary Garden, 195; "Theory of Forms', 188,
196-7. This interpretation has also been defended by Alfino, 273; Bluck, 'Logos and
Forms', 528; and H. Cherniss, 'Lafrance on Doxa', Dialogue 22 (1983) 137-62,156.
82 This is how these expressions are understood by, among many others, Stemmer,
198-9 n30 and David Gallop, Plato's Phaedo (Oxford: Clarendon Press 1975), 132-3.
83 See Theaetetus 202c2-5 and Statesman 286a4-5. In the Sophist, we are said to reach
consensus by 'giving each other λόγος' (λόγον έαυτοΐς δόντες, 230a5), which of
course implies receiving λόγος from each other. The Statesman passage is indeed
followed by an explanation that suggests, in apparent contradiction to the Seventh
Letter, that nonbodily things are made manifest only by means of λόγος· λόγφ μόνον
αλλω δε ούδενΐ σαφώς δείκνυται (286a6-7). Sayre ("Theory of Forms', 188-9), seeing
the apparent contradiction, attempts to avoid it with the arbitrary suggestion that
the Statesman passage refers only to 'imperceptible discourse' and the erroneous
suggestion that the Seventh Letter criticizes only perceptible discourse (see note 28
terizes dialecticians as those who are able to give and receive a λόγος
(δούναι τε καν άποδέξασθαν λόγον, 531e4) and suggests that someone
lacking such an ability does not know the things that must be known.
This giving and receiving of λόγος clearly refers, not to a swapping of
definitions, but more generally to the process of mutual explanation and
clarification that characterizes an intelligent discussion. Understood
within this context, the ability to give a λόγος of a thing's nature or είδος
is the ability to carry on a discussion about this nature by making per-
ceptive statements about it, examining the statements others make about
it, explaining and defending one's own views on it. What a person with
this ability says will presumably not be fina 1 and unchanging, but instead
will be responsive to differences in the context of the discussion and the
characters of the interlocutors. The process of giving and receiving a
λόγος is furthermore not only interpersonal and ad hominem, but also
reflexive: the interlocutors who participate in this process are also giving
accounts of'themselves..M
As the above should already suggest, the ability to give and receive a
λόγος does not essentially differ from the question-and-answer method
that Socrates himself practices and in which he attempts to engage
others: the Republic makes this identification explicit in proceeding to
characterize the discursive ability required for knowledge as έρωταν τε
και άποκρίνεσθαι έπιστημονέστατα (534d9-10). Similarly, in the Pro-
tagoras, knowing how to give and receive a λόγος (έπίστασθαι λόγον τε
δούναι και δέξασθαι) is seen as going along with that ability to engage
in dialectic (οίος τ' είναι διαλέγεσθαι, 336b9-c2) that Socrates has, but
above). However, this subterfuge is unnecessary. What the passage from the
Statesman explicitly claims is that the forms are made manifest only by means of
λόγος, not that the forms are made manifest in a λόγος, nor that they can be adequately
expressed in a λόγος, nor that knowledge of the forms is knowledge of α λόγος. Recall
that according to the letter itself, if One does not in some way lay hold of the four
[all of which are immediately associated with λόγος in the broad sense of "lan-
guage"], one will never fully partake of knowledge of the fifth' (342d8-el). Thus the
letter holds λόγος to be indispensable to the attainment of knowledge. How, then,
does it contradict the claim that the forms can be made manifest only by means of
λόγος? A contradiction arises only if one fails to recognize what the letter appears
to assume: that the process by which knowledge is reached can be discursive
without this knowledge itself being prepositional.
84 See Wieland, Formen des Wissens, 248.
85 At Phaedo 76b5-6 we find a claim identical to that made in the Republic: whoever has
knowledge will be able δούναι λόγον concerning what he knows. But when Simmias
suggests that only Socrates has this ability concerning the forms (76blO-12), he
cannot mean that Socrates is able to give adequate definitions of theforms, since Socrates
everywhere in the dialogues proves and admits his inability to do this.
86 For another defense of the view that the knowledge that exhibits itself in the ability
to give and receive λόγος is itself nonpropositional, see Wieland, Formen des Wissens,
247-9 & 297-8.
87 Hyland makes an important distinction between an 'archaic noesis' and a 'telic noesis'
(182). The former is the originating insight that 'is the ground of the speaking; it is
not spoken itself. We rather speak in the light o/that insight.' The latter is 'the final
or culminating insight toward which the speech hopefully leads us, but which again
is not reducible to the speech itself.' Press characterizes knowledge in Plato as a
vision 'that lies behind, provides the co-ordinates or dimensions or categories for
particular statements but is not itself expressible or communicable in particular
statements' (80).
VII Conclusion
See Yvonne Lafrance's excellent account of the role of λόγος in dialectic in La theorie
platonicienne de la Doxa (Montreal: Bellarmin; Paris: Les Belles Lettres 1981), 47. After
claiming that Socratic λόγος does not aim at providing definitions or deducing
propositions, Lafrance comments: 'Le savoir authentique ne saurait s'enfermer dans
les mots qui le suggerent, mais jamais ne le remplacent' (47).
89 I wish to acknowledge with gratitude my debt to both the Executive Editor's helpful
suggestions and the extraordinarily detailed and rigorous comments of two anony-
mous readers. They have helped me clarify the paper's argument and correct some