Plato lived in Athens, Greece, 427-347 b.c. He is the first Western
philosopher who has left us a substantial body of his own writings. These
writings, almost all written in dialogue form, raise a great many of the issues
that subsequently occupied Western philosophers. (The modern British philosopher A.N.
Whitehead famously said the "the safest characterization of Western philosophy
is that it is a series of footnotes to Plato." See his Process and
Reality, Free Press, 1979. p. 39)
Plato also had an enormous influence on early and medieval Christian
theology. Beginning with Clement of Alexandria in the middle of the second
century, almost all of the most influential Christian thinkers were Platonists,
up until the thirteenth century when Thomas Aquinas refashioned Christian
theology on the basis of the thought of Aristotle, Plato's pupil.
For Plato, "philosophy" was not yet an academic discipline,
but a way of life. Prior to the Eighteenth century Enlightenment period in
Europe, Platonism was mainly what we would call today a "personal spirituality"
for individuals wanting to raise their lives to a higher moral and spiritual
level than would be possible merely by conforming to the moral standards
prevalent in society at large. Platonism was the basis for a great deal of
traditional Jewish, Christian, and Islamic spirituality.
Plato's philosophical thought developed partly out of disillusionment with Athenian politics of his time, partly also due to the influence of Socrates whom he regards as his main teacher.
One source of Plato's disillusionment came from his observation of the workings of Athenian democracy. As he saw it, democracy in practice made the young men of Athens want to learn the skill of persuading and manipulating a crowd ("how to please the voters," as we would say today), rather than serious critical inquiry. A large part of the way Plato defines "philosophy" is determined by contrasts between philosophy on the one hand, and crowd-pleasing rhetoric on the other. A majority vote in a large Athenian jury sentenced his teacher Socrates to death, whom he regarded as by far the best man in Athens
But his distrust of the Athenian masses was balanced by an equally great distrust of aristocratic tradition. The key experience here came about in connection with a war between Athens and a neighboring rival city-state, Sparta. Sparta won the war and appointed thirty Sparta-sympathizers among the Athenians to rule over Athens on their behalf. Among the thirty were Plato's mother's brother and her cousin. According to his account in his Seventh Letter, Plato was initially tempted to accept his relatives' invitation to join them in the new government, hoping that it would be much better than the democracy he disliked. But, he says, it turned out to be much worse, and he was glad he had not joined it. He was especially angry that they tried to involve Socrates in some of their criminal acts.
Plato had one more try at political involvement, when he heard that the son of the ruler of Syracuse, a Greek colony in present day Sicily, was interested in his ideas and might make them the basis for governmental reform in that colony. This too came to nothing.
It seems that it was as a result of these disillusioning experiences in political life that Plato founded what came to be called the Academy, the first institution in the Western world devoted to theoretical learning ("philosophy") for its own sake. The Academy Plato founded lasted for almost a thousand years, until it was suppressed by Christian Roman Emperors in the middle of the sixth century A.D.
Socrates (469-399 b.c.), an Athenian from Plato's father's generation who died when Plato was only 28, seems to have been the single greatest influence on Plato's thinking. Socrates was not a professional "philosopher," but seems to have spent much of his time trying to engage his fellow-Athenians in serious thought about moral norms. Plato's pupil Aristotle says that Socrates was the first to apply critical philosophical reasoning to moral questions.
Almost all of Plato's writings are written in the form of dialogues between two or more individuals. In the majority of the dialogues Socrates is the main speaker. Scholars have generally marked off nine of these dialogues as early and "Socratic" in the sense that they exhibit a style of moral questioning that seems to stem from Socrates himself (in contrast to probably later dialogues in which "Socrates" seems to serve more as a mouthpiece for some of Plato's own favorite ideas.) Plato also wrote a book now called "the Apology" that presents itself as an account of the trial at which Socrates was condemned to death for "corrupting the youth." At this historical distance, it is very difficult to completely differentiate "the real Socrates" from the character Socrates that appears in Plato's dialogues. For practical purposes, in these essays, "Socrates" can be considered one character in Plato's Socrates-plays (i.e. the dialogues written by Plato), an idealized example of Plato's ideal Philosopher.
What is really unique about the character Socrates as he appears in the Apology and in the Socratic dialogues is the way he combines severe questioning of conventional moral beliefs with extreme personal moral idealism. We are familiar today with radical questioning of all beliefs by rational thinkers, but we usually associate this with a moral skepticism and resultant sense of being free of moral obligations. In Plato's Socratic Dialogues, Socrates' questioning likewise typically undermines people's confidence in their knowledge of what is right and wrong, and in these dialogues typically offers nothing positive to replace the knowledge that he has shown to be inadequate. Yet he goes to death very serene in his confidence that he personally knew what is right, and lived his life according to this knowledge. At his trial he is very assertive in insisting on the rightness of what he was doing, even though he must have known that this would antagonize many on the jury. After his conviction, when his friends proposed a plan for his escape from prison and execution, he refused because he was confidently convinced that it would be wrong to disobey Athenian laws under which he was convicted (however morally wrong his conviction and sentence were.)
This combination of critical thinking and moral idealism is something Plato himself tries to maintain in his own thought: Combining very fundamental questioning with ultimate moral seriousness. One should subject all moral opinions to severe criticism from all points of view. But this critical questioning must be in service to a search for true goodness, not a means of undermining belief that goodness exists. The ultimate aim of critical reasoning, both for Plato and for Socrates, should be personal transformation, actually becoming a better person, "caring for one's soul that it might become the best it can" as Socrates says in the Apology. In his Republic, Plato has the character "Socrates" present the theory of Forms as a positive outcome of Socratic inquiry. (As described below, a Platonic Form can be defined as "a virtue-concept that can survive Socratic questioning.")
One main characteristic of Socratic questioning important in the present
context is the fact that when Socrates is arguing with someone, he is careful
not to introduce his own personal ideas into the argument, but to rely only on
perceptions and ideas that the other person will agree to. He does not say, "My
opinion contradicts your opinion, and here are the reasons you should accept my
opinion instead." He says rather, "What you are saying now contradicts what you
yourself agreed to a minute ago. How will you handle this contradiction in your
own thinking."
*****
Plato ended up thinking that a person can have secure knowledge of pure moral Goodness. Pure Goodness can be grasped by means of Platonic "Forms." A Platonic Form is a virtue-concept conceived of in its most pure and perfect form. For example, individual courageous actions and individual courageous people are always a mixture of pure admirable courage, with other things that are not admirable. But the Platonic Form of Courage represents courage at its very best, a pure and perfect concept unmixed with anything imperfect.
*****
The present essays will be a critical reconstruction
of some central elements of Plato's thought about Platonic Forms.
To say that this is a "critical" reconstruction means
that, instead of asking, "What did Plato believe?" I will be asking, "What did
Plato have good reasons to believe?" -- reasons that we can still
regard as good reasons today. Does Plato have anything important to teach us
that we can rationally know to be true?
To say that this will be a "reconstruction" means that
this will involve a creative process of interpreting what Plato says, to limit
the meaning of what he says to what can be shown to have a rational basis, a
basis in some mode of reasoning that is also found in Plato. We need to devise an
interpretation of Plato in which his beliefs can be supported by Platonist
reasoning methods.
As a rough analogy: Think of the thought expressed in Plato's
writing as a very large and sprawling building. (Plato hardly ever writes in his
own voice, and the views he puts into the mouths of others cover an amazing
variety of topics.) Critical reconstruction means examining which parts of this
building have a solid foundation in some reasoning method Plato offers us, and
which do not. Those that do not have a solid foundation we should let fall, lest
they bring the entire building down. The "reconstructed" body of Plato's thought
is what will remain when we let the other parts fall.
This critical and creative reconstruction is the opposite of
a more usual habit of taking some central views expressed in Plato's writing
literally at face value, as descriptions of "what Plato believed," then simply
asking "Are these beliefs true?" In this case, interpretation is easy, requiring
little creative effort, and critical evaluation of Plato's views requires just a
yes or no answer. If any of his central beliefs turn out not to be true on this
simple and literal reading, then the whole Platonist building comes down.
*****
More specifically, I will focus on two main elements of
Plato's thought, considered in relation to each other:
(1) Platonic Forms and (2) Socratic reasoning.
Plato's Form theory needs to be understood in relation to the central purpose of Plato's
thought, to inspire and teach other individuals a certain way of life. This way
of life differs from the usual way of life in its "otherworldly" orientation.
Whereas most people define their identities and evaluate themselves in relation
to relatively concrete norms for behavior and relatively tangible standards of success prevalent in
their society, the ideal Platonist defines her identity and evaluates herself in
relation to pure and perfect virtue-concepts, "Platonic Forms," that
transcend the imperfections of what can be represented in concrete imagery or rules for concrete
visible behavior.
The second element of Plato's thought to be considered is a reasoning method
Plato claims to have learned from his teacher Socrates, "Socratic reasoning."
The nature of this reasoning will be described in more detail below.
This critical reconstruction of Plato's thought considers
these two elements in relation to each other. We need to interpret his thought
about the otherworldly orientation of the ideal Platonist in such a way that
this otherworldly way of life is something that can be supported and validated by Socratic
reasoning. And we need to construct an interpretation of Socratic reasoning that
will support and validate the ideal Platonist way of life. (Insisting on
this connection to Platonism as a way of life for individuals aims to
recover a kind of Plato-interpretation very prevalent prior to the
professionalization of Philosophy as an academic discipline in the European
Enlightenment. On this, see the valuable and very detailed survey of the
subsequent influence of Platonism in Frantisek Novotny's The Posthumous Life
of Plato [The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff. 1977])
In other words, consider the otherworldly orientation constituting the ideal Platonist way of life as the Platonic building, and Socratic reasoning as the foundation. Not everything Plato believed, and not just any interpretation of what Plato believed, can be supported and validated by Socratic reasoning. Conversely, not every kind of reasoning employed by "Socrates" in Plato's dialogues provides valid arguments supporting this otherworldly orientation. The "critical reconstruction" of Plato's thought attempted here, requires a creative process of mutual adjustment, creatively fashioning a model of Socratic reasoning that offers good rational support for Platonic otherworldliness, and creatively fashioning an interpretation of Platonic otherworldliness that can be supported by this model of Socratic reasoning.
Specifically, what I will try to show is that what is most valuable and challenging about Plato's otherworldliness is independent of certain other beliefs commonly associated today with Platonism, such as the belief that there is one and only one small set of genuine virtues, and only one perfect Platonic Form of each of these virtues. In the present context, this would mean knowing that there is only one small set of virtue-concepts that can withstand Socratic questioning. Plato's writings offer us no good reasons to believe this. To know this, a person would have to know, not only that some particular set of virtue-concepts she had arrived are capable of withstanding Socratic questioning, but that there are no other concepts equally capable. How could anyone know this? Plato nowhere even tries to prove a thesis like this.
To clarify this: Suppose that a Russian Platonist shows that some given virtue-concept can withstand Socratic questioning and so qualifies as a Platonic Form. A Mexican Platonist who follows the Russian's argument would not disagree that this is a genuine Platonic Form. It's just that the Mexican Platonist might have discovered other virtue-concepts as yet unknown to the Russian that also qualify as Platonic Forms by this test. Neither the Russian nor the Mexican can ever know that they have discovered all the valid Platonic Forms there are, and that there can be no more.
On the other hand, neither does the validity of Platonic otherworldliness, as an option for idealistic individuals, depend on there being only one small set of genuine Platonic Forms, obligatory for all Platonists everywhere. The "transcendence" of Platonic Forms consists in the fact that they transcend conventional norms of the concrete social world in the perfection of their Goodness, not that they transcend all cultural particularity, which is an entirely different thing. Plato does offer us a basis for a reasoning method capable of differentiating between more perfect and less perfect virtue-concepts, and so capable of supporting an otherworldliness of this kind. He offers us no reasoning method capable of limiting the number of perfect virtue-Forms there might be.
In a later commentary on key passages on the Forms in the Republic, I will argue that Plato's main point in these passages was not to argue that there can only be one small set of Platonic Forms valid for all people for all time -- his comments do not address this issue at all. (See Plato (6), #6).
But for purposes of critical reconstruction, what Plato himself believed on this question is not a crucial issue. Critical reconstruction does not ask what Plato believed, but what he had good reasons to believe, reasons we can continue to regard as good reasons today. If Plato himself held that there can only be one small set of valid Platonic Forms, this is a belief that he does not support with good reasons, certainly not reasons that we can continue to regard as good reasons today. Insofar as such a belief was ever part of the Platonic edifice, it is a part that we must let fall today, but not let it bring down the whole building with it.
So one of the main results of the present critical reconstruction of Plato's thought is the development of what I will call a "critical-pluralist" Platonism, (making Platonic otherworldliness compatible with fundamental cultural diversity), to which I will devote a separate essay below.
Critical reconstruction is in accord with the rational spirit of Plato's thought. Why did he write dialogues rather than essays straightforwardly explaining his own beliefs? Dialogues intend to engage readers in personally thinking through the issues, posing the most fundamental questions, raising fundamental doubts, and trying to resolve these doubts. To really understand Plato we need to think along with him about the fundamental issues, the subject matter, that engaged him. His Seventh Letter was written partly in response to someone's claim to have written an essay explaining "Plato's idea of the Good." Plato says in reply:
One statement... I can make in regard to all who have written... with a claim to knowledge of the subjects to which I devote myself... Such writers can in my opinion have no real acquaintance with the subject. I certainly have composed no work in regard to it nor shall I ever do so in future, for this subject matter [pragma] is by no means capable of being expressed in words like other subjects... rather, after prolonged being-with and living-with the subject matter, suddenly, like a light kindled by a leaping spark, having come into being in the soul, it then nourishes itself. (341c-d)
As a Latin proverb later put it: Amicus meus Plato, sed magis amica veritas. "Plato is my friend, but truth is a greater friend." I think Plato would have approved of this.
******
To explain Plato's otherworldliness, consider first the concept of an "identity." This has become familiar a
familiar concept today, as for example in the case of so-called "identity
politics" in modern democracies. Citizens ban together to form pressure groups
and voting blocks based on their feeling of a common identity -- often an ethnic
identity such as Hispanic or Asian, but sometimes a religious identity such as
Catholic or Fundamentalist-Protestant, or professional identity such as
"lawyer," "construction worker," etc.
Normally, identities are something a person is proud of, and in fact are often a
very fundamental source of personal self-esteem. To indicate this aspect of
identity, we can use the term "moral identity," using "moral" not in the narrow
sense of moral rules and obligations, but in the wide sense in which each
individual needs to think of herself as a worthwhile person deserving of
respect, leading a worthwhile and meaningful life. Perhaps "meaningful
identity," or "important identity" would be another way of putting this point. A
moral identity is a source of pride and self-esteem. A moral identity is
who-I-am for purposes of self-evaluation.
In the usual case, people form their identities relationally.
Identities are usually not free-standing entities, but are constituted by their
relation to some external context or framework -- as for example an identity as
"a Catholic" is defined in relation to a certain framework or context
constituted by a particular church-organization with its authorities, and its
history, doctrines, and practices. Let us call this an "evaluative context," a
determining how a person evaluates herself.
It seems clear that there are better and worse things to take as an evaluative
context defining one's moral identity. "Materialism" is a word we sometimes use
to criticize a person who defines who-she-is in terms of material wealth,
physical appearance, and status symbols consisting of certain kinds of material
possessions. We regard these as superficial criteria for self-evaluation, since
they are obviously not very closely related to true personal goodness. A wealthy
person who suffers a severe "identity crisis" and loss of self-esteem when she
loses her wealth has built her moral identity on the wrong kind of basis.
What should a person take as an evaluative context for
purposes of self-identification? This involves us in "ultimate" questions such
as the "the meaning of life" or the question about "what finally matters." It is
the same kind of question as the question about whether there is anything that
deserves my unreserved commitment and loyalty.
Platonist thought involves a very radical critique of
people's common habits when it comes to choosing an evaluative context for
defining their moral identities. Plato criticizes the "materialistic" mentality
mentioned above, but goes much much further. He thinks people are mistaken when
they define their identities in relation to
- any concrete person, institution, or society
- any moral rule for visible behavior,
- any concrete results of behavior
What this Socratic reasoning shows instead is that everything in
the concrete visible world, as well as all familiar and easy to understand
concepts, are inadequate when it comes to describing pure goodness deserving
unreserved commitment and loyalty.
Does pure goodness exist? Can we conceive of an ultimate
evaluative context that does deserve our unreserved commitment, and does deserve
to be taken as a context for defining one's moral identity? Plato answers 'yes,'
but we can only represent this pure goodness through abstract,
difficult-to-grasp virtue-concepts disconnected from anything concrete and
visible. These pure-and-perfect virtue-concepts are Platonic "Forms." A Platonic
Form is some "virtue," some admirable personal quality, grasped by the mind in
its most pure and perfect form. Because these virtue-Forms cannot be represented
by anything visible and concrete, Plato imagines them as not existing "here" (enthade
in Greek) but "over there" (ekeise), a deliberately vague phrase that is
Plato's usual way of referring to the "other world" in which the Forms reside.
To introduce another term I will use throughout these essays, Plato has a "worldview" containing a very strong otherworldly element consisting of pure and perfect virtue-Forms. "Worldview" and "moral identity" are correlative terms. A worldview is an evaluative context in which a person defines her moral identity.
A worldview is different from an objective reality-map. Constructing a good objective reality-map is the main goal of the modern physical sciences, and for a great deal of modern philosophy influenced by the "scientific" ideal. What makes a map a good map is that it accurately represents each element of reality as it is, and represents accurately the relation of each element to other elements. Modern reality-maps try to represent reality-as-it-is-in-itself, independent of the meaning that it has for human beings.
If I am trying to create an accurate map of the islands in Boston Harbor, this means I must include every island that is there, and no islands that are not there. If George's Island belongs on anyone's map of Boston Harbor, it belongs on everyone's map.
"Worldview" refers to the way a specific individual or group views the world as a meaning-context, the world as filled with human meanings, determining a person's view of the meaning of life, what it means to lead a good life or successful life. I will argue here that what makes a worldview a good worldview is not that it accurately represents reality as it is, but that it supports a moral identity that is good and admirable. The worldview of some people contains elements not present in the worldviews of other people, and this is OK. This is part of what makes a worldview different from a reality map. If something belongs an anyone's reality-map it belongs on everyone's reality-map. But the fact that the Forms play a central role in the Platonist worldview does not imply that they must play a part in everyone's worldview.
Treating Platonism as a worldview relieves this critical reconstruction from having to show rationally that Platonic Forms "exist." To say that something "exists" is to say that it belongs on everyone's reality-map. Further, for many people, something only really "exists" if it is a thing-like entity, like a rock, or a house, or a bodily-existing person. But something can be an important and valuable part of a person's worldview without "existing" in this sense. For example, idealized images of various heroes and "role-models" play an important part in some people's worldview, determining their personal aspirations and shaping their moral identities. What makes an idealized hero-image (such as Mother Theresa) a good basis for defining one's moral identity depends on the moral soundness and inspiring character of this image itself, not on whether the hero-image accurately represents the concrete person as she actually existed. An idealized image of someone might provide someone a better model for someone to try to imitate, than the actual person herself.
A Platonic Form is like an idealized and inspiring picture of a hero or role model that a person might try to imitate, except that it is abstract. The habit of thinking that something only deserves being taken seriously if it "exists" in the same way that rocks and houses and bodily existing persons exist -- this is itself the kind of concrete-mindedness that Platonism shows is a moral mistake, and tries to overcome.
So the we should not conceive of the Platonic Form of Courage as a thing-like entity existing either in this world or in some unseen parallel "spiritual" universe. The Form of Courage is not a thing-like entity that "exists" alongside, and in addition to, individual existing courageous firemen. It is just the same courage of these firemen mentally abstracted from the firemen and grasped in a concept representing this same courage in a more pure and perfect form. The purpose of this perfect virtue-concept is not to represent some objectively existing entity (which would therefore belong on everyone's reality map), but to provide an individual a transcendent focus for her ultimate loyalties, a focus that is transcendent in its perfect Goodness. It has the purpose of overcoming the mistake that people usually make in letting their worldview be dominated by the imperfect visible world full of concretely "existing" entities, people, and events that they see around them.
That is, from Plato's point of view, the main mistake that people usually make in defining
themselves is not so much an intellectual and theoretical mistake, but a more
personal and existential one. That is, the world of concrete visible objects and
events, and the world described by ordinary language and concepts, is the world
that is easiest to grasp and makes the strongest impression on our senses and
emotions. This concrete-mindedness is the reason why most people take the
visible social and material world surrounding them as the context within which
they define their identities. Visible objects, persons, and events in the
relatively tangible social and material world are always imperfect in relation
to true goodness, but nonetheless these imperfect realities dominate the
worldview of most people.
Correcting this mistake, transcending this imperfect visible
world in order to grasp the otherworldly Platonic Forms which alone deserve
unreserved commitment, requires developing the ability to overcome
concrete-mindedness and think in abstractions, to grasp pure goodness in a way
separate from any visible representation. This ability belongs to a part of the
human makeup different from the physical senses and the emotions so strongly
affected by things and events in the concrete visible world -- a part Plato
sometimes refers to as a spiritual "soul" (psychē). This soul is the part of our
mental makeup capable of the special kind of understanding needed to grasp the
abstract otherworldly Platonic Forms. Because of this, Plato pictures the soul
as "kin to" the Forms. A good Platonist feels her soul to
be the core of her moral identity, defining itself in relation to Platonic
Forms.
Plato refers to this special kind of understanding by Greek
words that are technical terms in his thought: logos/Reason, noēsis/Understanding,
and gnosis/Knowledge. In one passage for example, Plato refers to the
metaphorical "place" where the Forms reside as the "noēton topon,"
a compact phrase in Greek perhaps best translated in more extended form as "the
place [topos] where what-is-Understood [noēton] resides" -- taking
"Understood" in Plato's very technical sense referring to the capacity to grasp
abstract perfect Forms. This mental capacity defines what a "soul" is.
This spiritual soul with its mental capacity [noēsis]
to grasp abstract pure goodness constitutes the moral identity of the ideal
Platonist. The "health of the soul" is dependent on its "virtues" -- admirable
internal personality traits. But to really "care for one's soul" requires having
well-founded concepts of what "virtues" consist in -- and this is the function
of Platonic Forms.
The ideal Platonist does not expect to fully realize in her
being the moral perfection of the Forms, which can never be fully represented by
any concrete individual. Her aim is rather to approximate them as closely as she
can -- in Plato's words, to "participate in" the Forms, or to "imitate" the Forms as an
artist tries to imitate a model in her painting.
In terms defined above, the otherworldly Forms constitute a
world-transcending evaluative context, the key element of the Platonist
worldview, within which the ideal Platonist defines her moral identity,
replacing the concrete "worldly" context which dominates the worldview of most
people, the evaluative context within which people more normally define
themselves.
Treating Plato's Form theory as part of his worldview rather than as a reality-map is a way of preserving what is personally and existentially most challenging about Plato's thought, by divorcing it from many claims that have become controversial and highly doubtful today. This prevents a person from saying, "Plato's otherworldliness can be safely dismissed and not taken seriously as a personal option for me today, because there is no proof that the Forms exist," or "because there is no proof that there is only one set of Forms eternally valid for all people everywhere," and so on. Platonist otherworldliness, as an option for individuals, is part of the Platonic building which can be shown to have a solid rational foundation. We should save this part of the building by disconnecting it from claims about the objective existence or universal validity of the Forms, parts of the building we must let fall but not bring the entire building down with them.
*****
Note that the concepts of "critical reconstruction," "worldview," and "moral identity," are not concepts Plato himself uses. They are concepts I use in these essays for analyzing and critically evaluating Plato's thought. They are also helpful in the present context because they can be used in the critical reconstruction of early Buddhist and early Christian thought as well.
The concept of "worldview" was popularized among scholars chiefly by the work of the German philosopher-historian Wilhelm Dilthey (1833-1911), who however did not connect it to the concept of "moral identity" as I am doing here.[1]
"Critical reconstruction" can be looked on as an application of Socratic/Platonic reasoning to Platonism itself, critically constructing what Platonism would be at its best, just as Socratic/Platonic reasoning tries to construct a concept of what the virtues of courage, love, etc. would be at their best. It tries to establish on purely rational grounds what might constitute "Platonism at its best." But Plato's writings themselves, of course, do not give us a critical reconstruction of Platonist thought, but just give us materials to work on in such reconstruction.
Critical reconstruction is similar to an approach to biblical studies developed by some 20th century Christian scholars, called in German Sachkritik, criticism (kritik) on the basis of the substantive subject matter (Sach).[2] For example, according to this approach, we should not accept every detail of what is said in Paul's letters in the New Testament. We should try to grasp what the central substance (die Sach) of Paul's message is, and use this as a basis for critical evaluation of other things he said. However biblical scholars advocating Sachkritik generally provide no rational method of deciding what the Sach or central substance is.
Plato does not use any Greek term exactly corresponding to the English
words "transcendence," or "otherworldly." The closest Greek word he uses
is probably ekeise, a much more vague, ordinary, everyday word meaning "over there."
*****
The following paragraphs illustrate some practical
implications of Plato's focus on "otherworldly" Forms, and some of the problems
Platonist spirituality addresses.
Example #1:
Jane falls in love with Jim. She finds this a very inspiring and uplifting
experience, making her feel that life is great. She becomes very idealistic
about love, and life in general. But after awhile the relationship with Jim
turns sour and the couple break up. Jane is depressed, but falls in love again.
She is uplifted, but again disappointed. After several such experiences, she
loses faith in love.
Reflecting, she realizes that she was really "in love with
love" -- she loved the experience of being in love. But now she thinks to
herself, "Love doesn't really exist." In the words of the old song: Falling in love with love is falling for
make-believe. The love she was in love with does not exist in "the real world."
Life does not seem as bright as it used to be. Jane ceases being idealistic
about love and about life, becomes more cynical, more jaded.
Plato's "two-world" view is very realistic in acknowledging
the cause of Jane's cynicism, but finds a way of remaining idealistic in spite
of it. The uplifting and inspiring love she was in love with is real, not
"make-believe." It just does not exist in what Jane mistakenly takes to be the
only "real world." It exists in a realm beyond the world of specific concrete
experiences, the realm of Platonic Forms.
Specific concrete experiences like falling in love with Jim
"participate in" the perfect Platonic Form of love, but Jane should be careful
not to think of this specific concrete experience as "love itself." She should
not mistake an individual concrete experience that participates in Love for Love itself. This is the
cause of her let-down, because when her actual experience of life with Jim falls
short of its early idealistic promise, this leads her to feel that Love itself
has failed her.
Jane can remain idealistic and inspired, feeling that life is great, despite her
disappointing experiences, if she mentally isolates and separates Perfect Love
from any specific concrete experience of love.
I propose that this "Perfect Love" is something like a
"Platonic Form" of Love. Plato would advise Jane to regard Perfect Love, and all
the Platonic Forms of goodness, to be the true home of her soul, that to which
she can and should devote herself unreservedly, the focus of her ultimate
loyalties. They alone will never let her down.
This does not mean, of course,
that she is devoted to the Form of Love instead of concrete love-relationships.
A good Platonist will devote herself to making her concrete love-relationships
approximate, "participate in," the Platonic Form of love as closely as possible.
Example #2:
Suppose I look up to some famous figure as an inspiring
concrete representation of some particular admirable personal quality, for
example, Mother Theresa as a model of selfless compassion for suffering
humanity. This inspires in me an idealistic desire to imitate her. Suppose I
then read a newspaper story showing that the actual Mother Theresa is not as
selfless as her public image presents her to be, and I become disillusioned with
the ideal of selfless compassion itself, losing my desire to become selflessly
compassionate myself. This outcome could have been avoided if I had been able to
mentally separate the concept or Form "selfless compassion" from the concrete
person Mother Theresa, and made this Platonic Form the focus of my idealism.
Instead of defining my moral identity as an "imitator of Mother Theresa" I could
have defined my moral identity in relation to a concept of selfless compassion
abstracted from this concrete person.
We sometimes take other people as "role models," and try to be like them.
A good Platonist instead takes pure and perfect virtue-Forms as "models" for
imitation (Plato calls them paradeigmata, "paradigms"). A
high-school basketball player taking a professional as a "role model" does not
expect to actually achieve the same level of play. The
professional player who is the role-model serves as an inspiration, and also
provides an image of very specific skills to try to learn, in order to
approximate the skills of the role-model -- Plato would call this
"participating in" the play and skill-level of the professional. These are
good analogies to the function of Platonic Forms in the personal life of the
ideal Platonist.
Example #3:
Many people associate moral norms with norms of their own
society, as enforced by social pressure. But today social pressure, "what our
culture teaches us," is most often thought of as a negative force whose
unfortunate influence is an object of constant and widespread criticism. In some
cases this disenchantment with society's teachings leads to a general moral
skepticism. In other cases it leads to the feeling that there is some kind of
moral crisis in our times because our society is unique in its failure to teach
its citizens true values.
The model of Platonist thought developed here suggests a
different and more radical perspective for viewing this problem. That is, it
seems in the nature of social pressure that it should focus on simple
definitions of what is good and not good, defined in terms of externally visible
conduct. Only my closest long-term friends can know my internal invisible
virtues and vices. The general public can only judge me by my external conduct,
and can only pressure me to conform to relatively external standards connected
to visible conduct. Thus the problem of social pressure as a negative force is
not a problem unique to our society which might be resolved by widespread social
reform. There never can be a society in which social pressure comes close to
representing pure goodness deserving of unreserved commitment. Alienation from
conventional social norms should be regarded as the normal situation of all
individuals with a sense of true values.
The solution to this problem is individual, not social,
requiring that an individual define her moral identity in relation to
transcendent concepts of True Goodness separated from all reference to visible
conduct that could be the object of social pressure. This need not be separated
from efforts at social reform. The aim of someone devoted to transcendent
Platonic Forms of Goodness should be to shape her own personality, and the
social life around her, in such a way as to participate in and approximate these
Forms to an ever higher degree.
Example #4:
The above problem, arising through connecting moral norms to
social pressure, is related also to problems that arise when moral norms are
connected to the course of events in history. Many modern thinkers have tried to
derive a sense of moral purpose from a study of history. Such thinkers try to
derive from the study of history a conception of some moral directedness, a
movement toward moral progress in human history. For such thinkers, recent
history (the unprecedented destructiveness of 20th century warfare, genocidal
campaigns in Germany, Armenia, and Rwanda, the collapse of the utopian dreams of
Communism, the dreariness of contemporary democratic politics, and so on) is
again a source of disillusionment.
From the present perspective, such disillusionment can again
be seen as a result of the failure to formulate concepts of moral norms
completely separated from concrete reality. Platonic thought suggests that it is
in the nature of the forces that actually prevail in the world and govern
concrete events that they will always be a mixed bag when it comes to true
goodness. We might derive some concepts of moral goodness from the study of
history, and we should do our best to steer our own communities in the direction
of moral progress. But we should never expect to be able to identify moral
goodness itself with anything concretely existing or concretely effective in the
natural world or the world of human history.
Example #5:
A related difficulty arises through focusing on moral
dilemmas, and expecting that there should be a rational solution to these
dilemmas. Should I tell my friend Mary that I saw her husband cheating on her?
I'm conflicted with feelings of loyalty to Mary and feelings of responsibility
not unnecessarily breaking up a marriage. The inability to find clear rational
resolutions to such dilemmas is often a source of doubt about moral reasoning
itself.
Plato has an interesting way of picturing this kind of case:
Although the Form of each virtue is single, these Forms present themselves under
a multitude of appearances when they become "mixed with actions, with bodies,
and with each other." Meaning: Telling Mary about her husband's infidelity
should be seen as a concrete bodily action of mine that would contain in itself
a mixture of the Form Loyalty with the conflicting Form of Irresponsibility.
This should not lead me to doubts about the Form of Loyalty itself, but should
serve just to reinforce the general principle that the Form of Loyalty needs to
be mentally separated from all concrete loyal behavior.
This does not eliminate dilemmas from life. On the contrary,
Platonism suggests that only in the "otherworld" of Forms can we grasp clear and
pure goodness unmixed with anything else. The concrete social world we live in
is full of "gray areas," where we should not expect there to be purely good or
purely bad concrete courses of action.
Example #6.
Sue is preparing a surprise birthday party at her apartment for Sheila, who is a plumber. Sue misleads Sheila by telling her that her sink is plugged up, in order to get her over to the apartment for the party.
Jane is a con-artist. She misleads her poor grandmother Mary into investing her life-savings in a non-existent company, then skips town with the money.
Kimberly is a maid for a millionaire. In December her children are starving, so she brings them some leftover food from the millionaire's refrigerator, without permission.
Jane lied and Sue lied, neither told the truth, neither was being honest. Jane stole and Kimberly stole.
But it is difficult to hold that the "white lie" Sue told to her friend is equal in badness to the manipulative lie that Jane told, or that Kimberly's stealing for her starving children is equal in badness to Jane's stealing from her poor grandmother. Cases like this are often the source of moral skepticism, doubts as to whether there exist clear norms of goodness and badness, or whether we can have reliable knowledge of goodness and badness.
Examples like this are the reason why Plato holds that people will always be confused about moral goodness so long as they try to define goodness in terms of simple concrete rules like "tell the truth" and "don't steal." Rules for concrete visible behavior are always ambiguous with respect to true goodness. We can only define moral goodness in a very clear, precise, unambiguous way by formulating definitions that are abstract, separated from anything concretely visible, and that refer to internal "virtues," parts of a person's personality that manifest themselves in visible conduct, but are not in themselves directly visible from the outside.
Here are some issues addressed in the above essay that will be important for understanding subsequent materials in this course. You might use your ungraded papers to work out your understanding of these issues and your own thought about them.
What is "critical reconstruction" of the thought expressed in ancient writing? How does a critical reconstruction of Plato's thought differ from just asking "What did Plato believe?" What objections might someone have to this approach, and how might such objections be answered? (We will subsequently attempt a critical reconstruction of early Buddhist and early Christian thought.)
"Worldview" and "moral identity" are two other concepts we will use in interpreting early Buddhist and early Christian thought. What do these terms mean? How are they related to each other? Give some examples of other worldviews and corresponding moral identities? How does a worldview differ from a reality-map? By what criteria should we evaluate a worldview, contrasted with criteria used for evaluating a reality-map?
Plato has an "otherworldly" worldview, a worldview heavily focused on "transcendent" reality (something he also has in common with early Buddhism and early Christianity). What do the terms "otherworldly" and "transcendent" mean in this context? Why does Plato think that defining one's identity in relation to concrete visible reality is a mistake? How do otherworldly Platonic Forms remedy this mistake? What objections might someone have to this kind of otherworldly orientation, and how might these objections be answered?
[1] Some interesting discussions can be found on the web by typing in Google "worldview Dilthey". Note that Dilthey himself was still anxious to find some kind of transcultural Absolute truths, and so did not want to accept the legitimacy of the fundamental cultural diversity that seems the more logical conclusion of the concept of "worldview." I think his worry about transcultural Absolutes is unnecessary, as I explain in a subsequent essay "Critical-Pluralist Platonism."
[2] A good discussion (in English) of Sachkritik in modern biblical studies will be found in James M. Robinson, "Hermeneutics since Barth" in J. Robinson & J. Cobb eds., The New Hermeneutic. NY: Harper & Row 1964.