Philosophical Humility, or, Admitting I Don’t Know What I Don’t Know

I have seen many a conscientious reader of Plato smirk when considering Socrates’ plea that he knows one thing, he knows nothing.  We are in on the joke, I think many people believe; Socrates is much more clever than I and certainly more enlightened than the characters, in comparison real rubes, he systematically dismantles in the dialogues.  Socrates, under the hallowed authority of this confession, is a figure to whom we give lip service as the fount of all western education: be humble, accept your limitations, pursue the truth, and recognize that learning is never complete.

Nevertheless, Socrates is critical not only of a lack of knowledge, but also that erroneous “knowledge,” the misinformation, to which he also unwittingly adheres.  In the Gorgias, he goes so far as to say this.

I therefore, would cross-question you with pleasure, if you are the kind of person I am. But if not, I would let it be. Of what kind am I? Of those who are pleased to be refuted if I say something untrue, and with pleasure I would refute if someone said something untrue, and in fact I am not less pleased being refuted than refuting. For I think it is a greater good to be refuted, by as much greater it is a good to rid oneself of a great evil than to rid someone else of it. For I do not think that a thing could be such an evil for a man, as much as having a false opinion concerning the things about which our discussion is about (Gorgias 458a1-b1). [1]

Far from being shameful, Socrates thinks it is a actually a good to be refuted rather than a harm, and he prefers this to refuting someone else!

In light of this Socratic admission, I have thought how it applies to students who are hesitant to admit, in a classroom setting, and in one way or another, that they do not know.  However insofar as this is a legitimate fear, I assume that students have done their due diligence in homework, readings and independent thought on the subject. If they have not completed all of these preparatives, then these students are not candidates for Socratic humility, admitting they know what they do not know, but are simply poor students.

Thus I take it as a given, that if one is a prepared student, it is a philosophical good to admit what and when one does not know, for this is THE propaedeuctic.  Of course, these are also applicable to discussions of ancient philosophy in non-academic settings, and may even be useful generally when there are group intellectual discussions.

Fear of Appearing Stupid

I am sure we can all relate to this.  We are hesitant to speak up in class because we think our comment too obvious, or our question too stupid.  I have found that personally, as a participant and as a teacher, that an attitude of patient charity towards every single comment and question leads to more confidence in the questioner and more frankness in the answer.  Yet I am not a proponent of the idea that there are no stupid questions.  Rather, I think whether a question is stupid or not, the questioner should be a position in which he is encouraged to ask the stupid question, and not feel intellectual pain over it, while still being lead toward more intelligent questions.

Fear of Academic Worth

Another obstacle to Socratic humility is fear of having one’s academic worth undermined if one does not know the answer to a question or asks for clarification on background information owing to lack of knowledge.  As jockeying for the glory of the admiration of one’s peers is always in play in a classroom, I think, then acknowledging one’s ignorance in even minor issues often is an obstacle to learning and academic growth.

Fear of Preparedness

This I think is the most difficult of the fears.  For I think that if a student actually is prepared, but is hesitant to speak up in such a way because it might imply she is not prepared, this too is an obstacle to Socratic humility and to learning.  One way for a student to overcome this fear, is to couch his confession of ignorance (on whatever item of knowledge it is) in the context of expressing knowledge which is illustrative of the fact that the student does not some things, just not all, on this subject.

In conclusion, I think it is apparent that these are not only fears of the individual, but also expectations that the group can, in the snide inner voice we like to imagine we do not have, impose on an individual.  “Oh, you don’t know X about Y on Z, then you must not be very bright.”  “You need clarification on this, are you serious!”

 

 


 

REFERENCES:

[1] (a.) ἐγὼ οὖν, εἰ μὲν καὶ σὺ εἶ τῶν ἀνθρώπων ὧνπερ καὶ ἐγώ,
ἡδέως ἄν σε διερωτῴην· εἰ δὲ μή, ἐῴην ἄν. ἐγὼ δὲ τίνων
εἰμί; τῶν ἡδέως μὲν ἂν ἐλεγχθέντων εἴ τι μὴ ἀληθὲς
λέγω, ἡδέως δ’ ἂν ἐλεγξάντων εἴ τίς τι μὴ ἀληθὲς λέγοι,
οὐκ ἀηδέστερον μεντἂν ἐλεγχθέντων ἢ ἐλεγξάντων· μεῖζον (5)
γὰρ αὐτὸ ἀγαθὸν ἡγοῦμαι, ὅσῳπερ μεῖζον ἀγαθόν ἐστιν
αὐτὸν ἀπαλλαγῆναι κακοῦ τοῦ μεγίστου ἢ ἄλλον ἀπαλλάξαι.
οὐδὲν γὰρ οἶμαι τοσοῦτον κακὸν εἶναι ἀνθρώπῳ, ὅσον δόξα
(b.) ψευδὴς περὶ ὧν τυγχάνει νῦν ἡμῖν ὁ λόγος ὤν.

Were Plato’s Dialogues Verbatim?

There are generally a number of questions that come into mind concerning Plato’s chosen literary form, the dialogue; among them why and to what end, for whom and for what occasion.  Yet another realm of interest entirely is the process Plato used when he created his masterpieces of philosophical prose.  Few would consider Plato’s accounts as conversation chronicled for the benefit of future historical contemplation.  Even Plato himself is (paradoxically) averse to the written word in the Phaedrus, in which, among a flurry of allied criticisms, he charges that written words, static and thus muted, are insensitive to the needs of an audience.

Nevertheless, on Plato’s method of composition, there are some interesting tells in the beginning of the Theaetetus.  The dialogue begins with Terpsion and Euclid recounting a conversation Socrates has had with Theaetetus and Theodorus.   A second-hand account is not unusual, of course, as it is employed famously in the Republic, Symposium and Timaeus.  This frequently used technique perhaps is meant by Plato to predispose the reader against any inclination to accept the dialogues as first-hand reports from some embedded reporter.  Whatever their purpose, however, there are a few intriguing aspects of the process of writing that Plato lets us in on.


Plato’s dialogues were meant to be read aloud.

As Euclid is about to relate the story about Socrates, he tells Terpsion that his slave will read out the dialogue.[1]  Reading out loud was common in antiquity, and Plato was certainly well-to-do, if tradition is to be believed, so he would have had slaves, as here in specific, to read out loud from his personal library.


A dialogue was copied down after the fact, and then corrected over time.

Euclid tells Terpsion of this method of composition:

But I wrote down immediately some notes when I came home, and later, as I had leisure, I began to write down as I remembered, and every time I came to Athens, I questioned Socrates on whatever I was unable to recall, and then returning here I corrected it.  So that nearly the whole account has been written down by me (Theaetetus 143a1-5). [2]


A dialogue was meant to come across as dramatic and vital.

Terpsion also says, even though he heard the story from Socrates, that he is going to avoid repeating the dialogue as “Socrates said this was said” and “Socrates then said this happened.”

I wrote it down in this way, not as Socrates relating it to me, as he related it, but talking  with those with whom he told me he was talking….Now in order that the guiding words between the speeches not be vexing in what I wrote, such as “and I said” or “and I remarked,” whenever Socrates spoke, or “he consented” or “he disagreed,” for the interlocutor.  On account of these considerations, I portrayed Socrates himself as talking with them, ignoring such annoyances (Theaetetus 143b4-6, c1-5). [3]

Obviously, it is no surprise that Plato had an eye for dramatic flair, as he is still read today for pleasure, despite intro to philosophy classes’ best efforts to undermine this enduring interest.  But here we have a concession that, at least on some minor level, Plato felt free to omit certain aspects of the dialogue which were tedious, and which tended to draw away from the vivacity with which his dialogues are so closely associated.

Thus, we might be surprised to find, while it is impossible to expect Plato’s dialogues to be word for word, his profession as seen in the Theatetus claims a high degree of trustworthiness and adherence to what we hope were Socrates’ actual words.

 

 

 


 

REFERENCES:

[1] ὁ παῖς ἀναγνώσεται..  (Theaetetus 143b3)

[2] ἀλλ’ ἐγραψάμην μὲν τότ’ εὐθὺς οἴκαδ’ ἐλθὼν ὑπομνήματα,
ὕστερον δὲ κατὰ σχολὴν ἀναμιμνῃσκόμενος ἔγραφον, καὶ
ὁσάκις Ἀθήναζε ἀφικοίμην, ἐπανηρώτων τὸν Σωκράτη ὃ μὴ
ἐμεμνήμην, καὶ δεῦρο ἐλθὼν ἐπηνορθούμην· ὥστε μοι σχεδόν
τι πᾶς ὁ λόγος γέγραπται.

[3] ἐγραψάμην δὲ δὴ οὑτωσὶ τὸν λόγον, οὐκ ἐμοὶ Σωκράτη διηγούμενον ὡς διηγεῖτο, ἀλλὰ διαλεγόμενον οἷς ἔφη διαλεχθῆναι… ἵνα οὖν ἐν τῇ
γραφῇ μὴ παρέχοιεν πράγματα αἱ μεταξὺ τῶν λόγων διηγήσεις
περὶ αὑτοῦ τε ὁπότε λέγοι ὁ Σωκράτης, οἷον “καὶ ἐγὼ ἔφην” ἢ
“καὶ ἐγὼ εἶπον,” ἢ αὖ περὶ τοῦ ἀποκρινομένου ὅτι “συνέφη”
ἢ “οὐχ ὡμολόγει,” τούτων ἕνεκα ὡς αὐτὸν αὐτοῖς διαλεγό-
μενον ἔγραψα, ἐξελὼν τὰ τοιαῦτα.

Aristotle’s Categories: Four-fold Division of Being

In the previous chapter of the Categories we have already discussed homonymy, synonomy, and paronymy.  This section, Chapter 2 of Aristotle’s Categories, sets forth a four-fold system of classification for “things that are,” [1] in addition to introducing a distinction between things that are said “in combination” and things said “without combination.”  Although not without straying interpretations, the distinction between “combined and uncombined” is rather clear, on my view, from the context.  So I will instead be focusing on the four-fold division that takes up the majority of the chapter and the lion’s share of the philosophical difficulty.  Needless to say, however, for the purpose of an explanatory post such as this, I will be sticking to orthodox and traditional interpretations, although of course there are always divergences and minority reports.

Things That Are Said:

 

Of the things that are said, some are said in combination (symploke), while some are said without combination.  Those that are said in combination are such as “human runs,” “human wins.”  Those without combination are such as “man,” “ox,” “runs,” “wins.”

 

Things That Are:

 

A) Of things that are, some are said of an individual subject (tis hypokeimenon), but are not in any subject, such as “human” is said of an individual human, but is not in any subject.

 

B) But some are in a subject, yet are said of no subject.  And by “in a subject,” I mean that which exists in something not as a part and is impossible to be apart from that in which it is.  For example, an individual grammatical knowledge (tis grammatike) is in a subject, but is said of no subject, and individual white is in a subject, i.e. a physical body (for every color is in a body) but it is said of no subject.

 

C) Some are said both of a subject and are in a subject, for example knowledge (episteme) is in a subject, i.e. a soul, but is said of a subject, i.e. grammatical knowledge

 

D) Some are neither in a subject nor said of a subject, for example, an individual person or an individual horse–– for none of these is in a subject nor is it said of a subject.  And generally, things that are irreducible and one in number are said of no subject, but nothing hinders some things from being in the subject.  For, of the things in a subject, the individual grammatical knowledge is one of them (Aristotle, Categories, 1a16-1b9). [2]

First let us discuss what Aristotle means by “in a subject” and “said of a subject.” Since the four-fold division consists entirely in affirming or denying these classifications, resulting in four distinctions, if we understand these two phrases, we are well on our way to understanding all of this chapter.

The In-a-subject Relation

It is best to understand both the in-a-subject and said-of-a-subject distinctions, at a general level, as belonging to relations between things.  So in-a-subject means that if X is in Y, where Y is the subject, we are to understand Y as either a substance proper or, more abstactly, as that thing, whatever it is, which undergoes the process which results in some relation.  X here cannot exist independently from some kind of subject or substance, and that is why it is said to be “in” a subject, for it will not exist “out” of a subject.  Thus the category of things not a subject or substance, here represented by X, are dependent on the subject for their existence.  So in Aristotle’s example, an individual’s grammar-knowledge (his understanding of how language works) is “in” an individual (his mind) because it is dependent on the individual and cannot exist apart from this individual, viz., Grammatical knowledge is in the mind.

The Said-of-a-subject Relation

While the in-a-subject distinction concerns a subject or substance and its independent status (in contrast to the dependent relation of a non-subject or non-substance), the said-of-a-subject relation pertains to an individual and a universal, or in slightly different wording, to an individual and a species or genus.  Returning to one of Aristotle’s examples, the term human (as a species) is “said of” an individual human, viz., Socrates is a human.

The Four-fold Division Simplified

Now that we have discussed the in-a-subject relation and the said-of-a-subject relation, we can apply these distinctions to the text above to get four categories into which (presumably) all things fit.

A) Essential Universals: Universals (or species and genera) in their relation to substances. E.g. “Human” in “Socrates is human.”
B) Accidental Particulars: Particulars, but not substances. E.g. An individual grammatical knowledge in a person.
C) Accidental Universals: Universals (or species and genera) in their relation to things other than substances. E.g. Knowledge is said both of grammatical knowledge (i.e. grammatical knowledge is knowledge) and is in a subject, i.e. a mind.
D) Primary Substances: Particulars that are substances. E.g. An individual such as Socrates or a particular horse, e.g. Secretariat

 


 

REFERENCES:

[1] Although the division is four-fold, there are actually 6 possibilities; however two of these possibilities are contradictions: “in a subject and not in a subject” and “of a subject and not in a subject.”

[2] Τῶν λεγομένων τὰ μὲν κατὰ συμπλοκὴν λέγεται, τὰ
δὲ ἄνευ συμπλοκῆς. τὰ μὲν οὖν κατὰ συμπλοκήν, οἷον
ἄνθρωπος τρέχει, ἄνθρωπος νικᾷ· τὰ δὲ ἄνευ συμπλοκῆς,
οἷον ἄνθρωπος, βοῦς, τρέχει, νικᾷ.
Τῶν ὄντων τὰ μὲν καθ’ ὑποκειμένου τινὸς λέγεται, ἐν  (20)
ὑποκειμένῳ δὲ οὐδενί ἐστιν, οἷον ἄνθρωπος καθ’ ὑποκειμένου
μὲν λέγεται τοῦ τινὸς ἀνθρώπου, ἐν ὑποκειμένῳ δὲ οὐδενί ἐστιν·
τὰ δὲ ἐν ὑποκειμένῳ μέν ἐστι, καθ’ ὑποκειμένου δὲ οὐδενὸς
λέγεται, —ἐν ὑποκειμένῳ δὲ λέγω ὃ ἔν τινι μὴ ὡς μέρος
ὑπάρχον ἀδύνατον χωρὶς εἶναι τοῦ ἐν ᾧ ἐστίν,— οἷον ἡ τὶς (25)
γραμματικὴ ἐν ὑποκειμένῳ μέν ἐστι τῇ ψυχῇ, καθ’ ὑπο-
κειμένου δὲ οὐδενὸς λέγεται, καὶ τὸ τὶ λευκὸν ἐν ὑποκειμένῳ
μέν ἐστι τῷ σώματι, —ἅπαν γὰρ χρῶμα ἐν σώματι,— καθ’
ὑποκειμένου δὲ οὐδενὸς λέγεται· τὰ δὲ καθ’ ὑποκειμένου τε
(1b.) λέγεται καὶ ἐν ὑποκειμένῳ ἐστίν, οἷον ἡ ἐπιστήμη ἐν ὑπο-
κειμένῳ μέν ἐστι τῇ ψυχῇ, καθ’ ὑποκειμένου δὲ λέγεται
τῆς γραμματικῆς· τὰ δὲ οὔτε ἐν ὑποκειμένῳ ἐστὶν οὔτε καθ’
ὑποκειμένου λέγεται, οἷον ὁ τὶς ἄνθρωπος ἢ ὁ τὶς ἵπ-
πος, —οὐδὲν γὰρ τῶν τοιούτων οὔτε ἐν ὑποκειμένῳ ἐστὶν (5)
οὔτε καθ’ ὑποκειμένου λέγεται·— ἁπλῶς δὲ τὰ ἄτομα καὶ ἓν
ἀριθμῷ κατ’ οὐδενὸς ὑποκειμένου λέγεται, ἐν ὑποκειμένῳ δὲ
ἔνια οὐδὲν κωλύει εἶναι· ἡ γὰρ τὶς γραμματικὴ τῶν ἐν ὑπο-
κειμένῳ ἐστίν.