## 1. Introduction



At the center of Plato's shorter ethical works is the
 *Apology of Socrates*,
 which consists of a speech purportedly given by Socrates at his
trial, and is probably the closest of Plato's works to the
historical Socrates. The *Apology* is closely linked to two
other works. The first is the
 *Euthyphro*,
 which shows Socrates discussing reverence as he is about to report to
court for his indictment, an indictment that includes by implication a
charge of irreverence. The second is the
 *Crito*,
 which shows Socrates in prison on the day before his execution,
defending his decision to accept the penalty rather than corrupt the
law by bribing his way out of prison and away from Athens. The
*Crito* argument depends on a principle that is the bedrock of
Socratic ethics: that it is never right to do wrong, even in return
for wrong (49ab). This bedrock principle rules out the view that one
should do right by one's friends and wrong by one's
enemies, a view that had roots in Greek tradition.



Four of the dialogues in this group are concerned with
 definition
 of virtues or good qualities:
 *Euthyphro*
 (piety or reverence),
 *Laches*
 (courage),
 *Charmides*
 (temperance, integrity, or soundness of mind), and
 *Hippias Major*
 (the fine or beautiful). These dialogues of definition indirectly
raise questions about the mutual relations of the virtues, and this
question is taken up explicitly in the
 *Protagoras*,
 which introduces the doctrines of the
 unity of virtue
 and the impossibility of
 *acrasia*
 (the doctrine that it is impossible to know what is right and still
do wrong). A corollary of this is the claim that no one does wrong
willingly, which supports part of Socrates' argument in the
*Apology*. Another corollary is that in seeking virtue we
should seek knowledge about virtue. Nevertheless, Socrates entertains
strong doubts as to the teachability of virtue. Socrates sometimes
treats virtue on the analogy of
 *techne*,
 however, and *techne* means a body of specialized knowledge
that can be taught. 



Aside from the *Apology* and *Crito*, which contain
extended speeches, the most prominent feature of these works is
Socrates' use of questions calling for short answers. Although
Socrates uses this style of conversation for a number of different
purposes, it has been called the Socratic method, and in one of its
forms is has become known to scholars as the
 *elenchus*.



Four dialogues in the group show Socrates in contrast to
 sophists,
 who were paid teachers of subjects ranging from
 rhetoric
 to mathematics. Some sophists claimed expertise on virtue, and
Socrates took it as part of his mission to investigate such claims.
The *Protagoras* treats its eponymous sophist with some
respect, but the two Hippias dialogues (Hippias
 Major
 and Hippias
 Minor)
 poke fun at their namesake, and the
 *Euthydemus*
 shows its sophists as puzzle-makers who cannot make good their claim
to teach virtue. The *Gorgias* is too long to be considered in
this article, but it has strong affinities with these shorter works in
style and content. 



Following the lead of Vlastos (1971 and 1991), many scholars represent
the philosophical content of these dialogues as teachings of the
historical Socrates. This article follows that convention. On
Socrates, see Benson 1992, Brickhouse and Smith 2000, Rappe and
Kamtekar 2005, Rudebusch 2009, Bussanich and Smith (eds.) 2013, and
Prior 2019. On Socrates' ethical theory, see the first half of Irwin
1995 as well as Reshotko 2006, Iakovo 2008, and Smith 2021.


## 2. Elenchus



The general rules of *elenchus* are these: Socrates'
partner (often called his interlocutor) must answer every question
according to his own beliefs, and the partner (not the audience if
there is one) judges the outcome. Socrates' questions start from
his partner's initial statement, which usually implies a claim
to wisdom or to knowledge of a subject related to virtue. Sometimes
Socrates seeks clarification of the claim; at other times he proceeds
directly to elicit his partner's agreement to premises that will
turn out to be inconsistent with the initial claim. In some cases, the
premises have no authority aside from the partner's agreement;
in others, Socrates provides an argument for a premise, usually in the
form of an *epagoge*, a general inference from a set of
examples. An elenchus usually concludes in the discomfiture of the
partner, who now appears unable to support his initial statement. Some
form of *elenchus* is probably responsible for Socrates'
claim in the *Apology* that he has demonstrated that every
claimant to wisdom whom he has examined has failed the test
(21b-23b). In the dialogues of this group, the *elenchus*
is a negative instrument, but in the *Gorgias* Socrates seems
to use it in support of his
 bedrock principle
 that one should never commit injustice, the principle he uses in his
argument in *Crito*. In some cases, an *elenchus* seems
only to discredit a person; in others it refutes a position that is
under discussion. In those cases, it points the overall dialogue
toward *aporia*--an impasse. Socrates applies the method
to challenge views he probably held himself (as we shall see in the
*Laches*), and he implies in the *Hippias Major* that he
has used *elenchus* to prevent his being complacent with his
own ignorance (304c-e).



The philosophical puzzle of the *elenchus* is to see how it
could lead to any firm result, if its premises have no authority
beyond the partner's agreement. Perhaps the method can do no
more than convict a partner of confusion (as Hugh Benson has
contended), but Vlastos has argued persuasively that elenchus in fact
supports Socrates' ethical doctrine: Socrates believes he has
grounds for clinging to beliefs of his that have been well tested and
not refuted.



On the elenchus, see especially Vlastos 1983, Kraut 1983, Brickhouse
and Smith 1984, Benson 1987, and Tarrant 2005.


## 3. Socratic definition



When Socrates asks a question such as "What is reverence?"
he has in mind a question that can be answered only in certain ways.
To begin with, he will not be satisfied with an answer that points
only to a certain kind of reverence, or only to an example of
reverence. The answer must identify a feature that (1) belongs to
every kind of reverence (generality requirement), and (2) belongs to
nothing that is not reverent (exclusion requirement), and (3) has
explanatory power--that is, explains why reverent people or
actions are reverent.



The first two requirements appear in many texts, but the third emerges
most clearly in the
 *Euthyphro*.
 The *Euthyphro* seems to require that a definition state the
essence (*ousia*) of the thing being defined, by contrast with
a statement of that thing's non-essential attributes
(*pathe*). A statement of non-essential attributes could be
true without qualifying as a definition. The statement
"reverence is what all the gods love" states only a
*pathos*, because it does not explain what makes something
reverent. We are left to speculate about what would count as stating
the essence of reverence; probably it would state what makes things
reverent in the way that having three straight sides and three angles
makes a plane figure a triangle, whereas giving delight to geometers
does not. Clarification for the explanation requirement comes from a
further requirement, that the explanatory cause of *Xness* must
be always *X* (the synonymy requirement). Hence Socrates
rejects answers to "What is the fine?" that identify
entities that are not reliably fine (e.g. *Hippias Major*
289b;cf. *Phaedo* 105d).



Euthyphro seems to hold that his knowledge of reverence guarantees
that his judgments on this score are accurate, so that he is confident
that he is doing no wrong, but he is unable to substantiate this.



Scholarly opinion is divided as to whether Socrates is satisfied with
any of the definitions of virtues that he considers. Mastery of
definitions would be sufficient for the expert knowledge of virtue
that Socrates disclaims, so either he lacks that mastery, or his
disclaimer is (as some scholars believe) ironic.



On Socratic definition, see Vlastos 1976, Nehamas 1975, Benson 1990,
Futter 2011, and Woodruff 2019.


## 4. Priority of definition



Socrates seems to assume in these works that knowledge of definitions
has priority in two ways: (1) One must know what reverence is before
one could know of any particular action that it is reverent (whether,
for example, it is reverent to prosecute one's father), and so
for the other virtues and other cases. (2) One must know what
reverence is before one could know what properties reverence has (for
example, whether it is teachable). The first of these has been
attacked as the Socratic fallacy by Peter Geach (on which see Prior
1998); Socrates himself seems to think he knows things which he
appears to be unable to support through giving definitions. Luckily,
no text unequivocally assigns either claim to Socrates, and the matter
is under debate. A charitable view would assign to Socrates in place
of (1) the view that only expert knowledge on the model of
 *techne*
 requires the ability to give definitions, and in place of (2) the
view that we cannot know what the essential features of something are
until we know its essence.



Socrates nevertheless has strong opinions about virtues, opinions that
guide his search for definitions--for example, that courage is
noble or fine (*Laches* 193d) and that we should pursue virtue
above all else. It is one thing to aim at virtue and still another to
be able to determine what actions virtue requires, as Vasiliou
contends. But if Socrates thinks he lacks mastery of definitions of
virtues, then we must ask how he thinks he can be right enough about
the virtues even to look for their definitions. This puzzle is taken
up to some extent in the
 *Meno*.



On priority of definition, see Benson 2000 and 2013, Wolfsdorf 2004,
and Vasiliou 2008. For the view that it is wisdom that is prior, see
Pangle 2014.


## 5. Virtue and its Ontology



"Virtue" translates *arete*, which Socrates'
contemporaries used of any sort of excellence that leads to success. A
number of writers before Socrates had used the word and its associated
vocabulary primarily in ethical contexts. But Socrates was probably
the first to identify ethical virtue with what is analogous in the
soul to health in the body.



In Socrates' usage, virtue is the ability to do what is right
and resist doing what is wrong. As we learn especially from the
*Crito*, Socrates holds that wrong actions harm a part of
one's self, which he identifies in other dialogues as the soul.
Because the soul is more important to us than the body, we should care
about nothing so much as virtue, and Socrates understands his role in
Athens as that of shaming Athenians into taking this most important
concern seriously through the care of the soul (29e-30a).



In inquiring after the virtues, Socrates assumes that they have some
status as entities, especially in *Euthyphro* and *Hippies
Major*. Some scholars have thought this assumption represented an
early theory of Platonic forms (Allen 1970; see also Prior 2013 and
Woodruff 2019.



The principal virtues of interest to Socrates in this group of
dialogues are courage (*andreia*), reverence or piety
(*eusebeia*, *to hosion*), wisdom (*sophia*),
temperance or integrity (*sophrosune*), and justice
(*dikaiosune*), all of which seem to be dependent on, and
perhaps identical to, wisdom (*sophia)*.



These dialogues raise two general questions about virtues that are
important to ethical theory, one concerning instrumentality and
another concerning unity. They also raise a question about the analogy
between virtue and expert knowledge (*techne*).


## 6. The Instrumentality of Virtue



Are virtues instrumental for other goods, or are they good in
themselves? Are they good in themselves or because they promote our
happiness? If they are instrumental, are they instrumental in respect
of themselves, by causing virtue to grow in the holders of virtue and
in those on whom they have influence? Or are they instrumental in
helping us procure external goods for ourselves such as power or
happiness? On the instrumentality of virtue there was an important
dispute between Vlastos and Irwin.



In a famous passage in *Republic* 1, which has many affinities
with dialogues of our group, a sophist named Thrasymachus challenges
Socrates to define justice without saying (as he was apparently known
for doing) that justice is the beneficial or the advantageous (336d).
Instead, Thrasymachus insists on the precision that specifies who
receives the benefit or advantage of justice; in Thrasymachus'
view it is the rulers who reap the benefits, while those who are ruled
pay a heavy price. Socrates defends the use of terms such as
"beneficial" in defining justice, implying that he would
accept some sort of instrumental view, but he plainly holds that
justice is beneficial to everyone who is touched by it. This is the
main theme of the *Republic*, but it also resonates with the
shorter ethical dialogues, as we shall see. The ending of the
 *Hippias Major*
 bears on the problem of instrumentality through a discussion of the
beneficial as replicating its own goodness (as virtue engenders
virtue). Socrates appears to be the first to make *eudaimonia*
(happiness, the good life) a goal in ethics. On the relation between
virtue and happiness in Socrates' thought, see Reshotko 2013 and
Woodruff 2023.


## 7. The Unity of Virtue



Socrates argues in the *Protagoras* for the unity of virtues, a
thesis that has been variously interpreted and may be supported by
other dialogues in this group. Vlastos famously explained the thesis
as bi-conditional: that whoever has one virtue has them all. Others
(Penner, Woodruff) have argued for a stronger thesis, such that the
definitions of all the virtues would have a common essence. Dialogues
of definition, such as the *Laches*, seem to presuppose that
each virtue has its own definition, but, at the same time, such
dialogues seem to be moving towards the view that the essence of each
virtue is wisdom or knowledge. The *Protagoras* defines courage
as the knowledge of what is and is not to be feared (360d), but the
*Laches* rejects a similar definition on the grounds that it
does not differentiate courage adequately from other virtues (199e).
And the *Euthyphro* ends in *aporia* (at an impasse)
because Socrates is unable to differentiate reverence adequately from
justice. Efforts to define *sophrosune* (integrity or
temperance) in the *Charmides* end in an impasse partly owing
to the difficulty of specifying the subject of the knowledge that is
the essence of this virtue. If (as seems the case) Socrates is never
satisfied with a definition of a virtue, this may be because the
virtues cannot be differentiated.



On the unity of virtue, see especially Vlastos 1972 and 1994, Penner
1973, Woodruff 1977, and Rudebusch 2017.


## 8. Techne Analogy, Intellectualism, and Moral Injury



*Techne* is, at the most basic level, what can be learned and
taught. The word is usually used for a body of professional knowledge,
mastered by experts on whom laypeople may safely rely. It is often
translated "art" or "craft" or
"skill," but in these pages it will be rendered
"expert knowledge." Navigation and medicine are frequent
examples of expert knowledge. To establish your credentials in expert
knowledge, you should be able to identify your teachers and students
(*Laches* 185b), as well as the specific field of your
expertise, which you must have mastered as a whole (e.g., *Ion*
532b, ff.). You should also, ideally, be able to give an account of
the aim of your profession (e.g. physical health for medicine,
*Laches* 190a, moral health for legislation, *Gorgias*
465a). Expert knowledge must be rational in its ability to account for
what it does, and rationality in this context seems to consist in
basing your decisions on definitions (*logoi*) that can
withstand Socratic questioning. .



Socrates seems to inquire after virtue as if it were, or at least
resembled, *techne*, the expert knowledge of living well, or
the expert knowledge of care for the soul. If so, this knowledge could
be taught and learned. Yet Socrates has grave doubts as to whether
virtue can be taught (*Protagoras* 319a, ff.), and he may be
using this analogy of virtue to *techne* strategically in
refuting those who claim to teach virtue.



If Socrates takes virtue to be a kind of knowledge, then he holds a
view known as intellectualism. Does Socrates, or does he not, believe
that virtue is to be understood on the analogy with expert knowledge?
If he believes that virtue is instrumental to happiness (as some
scholars hold), then he might well believe that virtue is a kind of
practical knowledge, and the analogy would be helpful. If he believes
(as other scholars hold) that virtue is at least partly constitutive
of happiness, and therefore good in itself, then the analogy seems
misleading, since bodies of expert knowledge are generally valued as
merely instrumental for their goals. If Socrates does not subscribe to
the analogy, however, why does he use it in argument? He mostly uses
it in argument in the context of the larger question whether virtue
can be taught, probably on the assumption that, if it can be taught,
it can be taught as expert knowledge is taught. But Socrates questions
whether it can be taught at all. The
 *Meno*
 will explore a process of learning without teaching; this process is
known as recollection. Many scholars are moving to the view that
Socrates uses the techne analogy dialectically to refute those who
claim to teach virtue.



The word *sophia* bridges a gap; usually translated
"wisdom," it may be used as a rough synonym for
*techne*, but it may also be used for less specific forms of
wisdom that are not obviously taught or learned and may lack the
rational features of expert knowledge. When supposed experts fail at
tasks related to their expertise, Socrates naturally attributes the
failure to a lack of expert knowledge; if he does so in the case of
virtue, he commits himself to the view that no one can do wrong in
full knowledge; on this see the next section.



There are at least three different positions scholars have taken on
Socratic intellectualism, best illustrated by their explanations of
injury to the soul. For full-scale intellectualists, the only possible
injuries to the soul are ignorance and false judgment. For those who
deny that Socrates was an intellectualist, injury to the soul is a
rupture in its order or unity. For those in the middle, it is a
rupture accompanied by ignorance or false belief. Since the Socratic
soul is a unity, anything that theatens to divide it is injurious. The
healthy soul is *sophron*, which cannot in this context mean
"self-controlled," as that presupposes a division in which
one part controls another. The associated virtue, *sophrosune*,
is more like integrity or undividedness. See *Gorgias* 482b and
506e-507a, cf. 475e-476a with *Republic* 1.352a.



On *techne* and the *techne* analogy, see Irwin 1995.
For a skeptical view of Socrates' commitment to the techne
analogy, see Roochnik 1996 and 2002 and Weiss 2006. On the issue of
Socrates' intellectualism, see Reshotko 2013, Brickhouse and
Smith 2013, and Smith 2021.



On moral injury: Penner and Rowe 1994 and Reshotko 2013 take the
intellectualist position; Brickhouse and Smith 2010 take a moderate
position; Gerson 1997 Weiss 2006 and Woodruff 2023 argue for the
non-intellectualist interpretation. 


## 9. The Impossibility of Acrasia



Socrates' doctrine on this, apparently, is that knowledge of
what is right cannot be overcome by pleasure or passion. After
Aristotle, philosophers have termed this the issue of
*acrasia*. *Acrasia*, weakness of will, would occur when
someone who knows what is right does what is wrong under the influence
of passion or in order to secure pleasure.



Holders of expert knowledge are supposed to be reliable in the
exercise of that knowledge; they are professionals, and part of their
professionalism is to ply their trade competently regardless of the
weight of passion or the blandishments of pleasure. So the
*techne* analogy might be construed to imply the impossibility
of *acrasia*. Socrates' argument for this in the
 *Protagoras*,
 however, is based on his demonstration that the popular explanation
for weak-willed behavior (that knowledge is overcome by pleasure) is
incoherent. Socrates is not denying that people do wrong under the
influence of passion or desire for pleasure; he is rejecting the usual
explanation for this, and denying that it occurs in the case of those
who have the relevant knowledge. Plainly, the doctrine presupposes a
stringent criterion for knowledge, at least as demanding as the test
for *techne*.



Scholars dispute the question whether Socrates is committed to the
conclusion he draws for Protagoras. The point may be dialectically
directed at Protagoras: if virtue is teachable, as Protagoras says it
is, then this unlikely result would follow. 



A related doctrine is that no one errs voluntarily, a doctrine Plato
holds consistently from the *Apology* to the *Laws*. If
*acrasia* is impossible, then every moral error involves a
cognitive failure about the action or the principle that it violates,
and cognitive errors negative (or at least weaken) responsibility for
actions caused by those errors. Socrates generally assumes that
actions taken in ignorance are involuntary, and that therefore the
proper response to wrongdoing is not retribution, but education, as he
says in the *Apology* (25e-26a).



In the
 *Hippias Minor*,
 by contrast, Socrates argues that it is better to do wrong
voluntarily than in ignorance. Although he is unhappy with this
conclusion, he gives no direct hints as to how to avoid it.



On *acrasia* see Segvic 2005, Weiss 2006, and Devereaux
2008.


## 10. Background: Sophists and Scientists



Aristophanes depicted Socrates in the *Clouds* (421 BCE) as a
participant in the two revolutions that constituted the new learning
of the period, which were both exciting and disturbing to ordinary
Athenians: one introduced by the new science, and the other by the
travelling teachers known as sophists. 



Natural scientists. Thinkers of the period were developing
explanations for natural phenomena that displaced the gods from their
traditional roles as causes. Socrates is depicted in the
*Clouds* as involved in this sort of explanation. But Plato
takes pains in the *Apology* and later works to show that the
mature Socrates is not interested in this project (*Phaedo*
96a-d, *Phaedrus* 229c-e).



Sophists.
 
 The Fifth Century saw an explosion of interest in traveling teachers,
later known as sophists, who taught a number of subjects, including
the art of words, later known as rhetoric. Although the art of words
was widely used for entertainment, it also had applications in
deliberative and forensic contexts, and the sophists were accused of
teaching their pupils how to win on behalf of a bad cause--by
making the worse argument into the stronger. Socrates is accused of
this in the *Clouds:* a student emerges from his instruction
with an argument that purports to justify a son's whipping his
father.



Clever techniques of argument were taught by some sophists, as were
serious devices for the effective staging of adversary debate, on
which the city-states of those periods depended, both for decisions
about policy and for verdicts in criminal cases. Some people felt that
these techniques corrupted political and legal processes. Plato took
pains to depict Socrates not only as different from the sophists, but
as opposed to them on many points. This is a theme in several
dialogues in our group: *Euthydemus*, *Hippias Minor*,
*Hippias Major*, and *Protagoras*.


## 11. Apology



Unique among Plato's works, this is a formal speech. The aim of
forensic rhetoric by a defendant is normally acquittal, but
Socrates' aim here seems to be to bring out the truth of his
life, regardless of how it affects the jury. Still, although he begins
with the orator's usual disclaimer of speech-craft, Socrates
speaks artfully enough that the result could be used to illustrate a
textbook of rhetorical technique.



The official charge is that he corrupted the young men of Athens, and
that he introduced new gods; this implies the old charge from
Aristophanes *Clouds*, that Socrates replaced the gods with
naturalistic explanations, and that he corrupted the youth by teaching
rhetoric, "to make the worse argument win." Socrates
denies having taught anything, and disclaims any interest in natural
science or the teaching of rhetoric.



How, then, did he come under such suspicion? Socrates claims it is
because he led a life that seemed strange to his compatriots, in
fulfillment of his mission. Socrates claims to have been given this
mission by the god, evidently Apollo, and he identifies this mission
with his gadfly role of shaming people into sharing his quest for
virtue. He may have developed elenchus (which derives from a word for
shame) for this purpose, but he has another purpose for elenchus as
well. Once the oracle declared that no one was wiser than he, Socrates
had set out to test the oracle's meaning by examining all those
who claimed to be wise. Finding none who could pass the test, he
concluded that the meaning of the oracle was probably this: that true
wisdom belongs to the god, and no human being can be wiser than a
person who is aware, as Socrates says he is, of his own inadequacy in
wisdom. In keeping with this result, Socrates is cautious in his
philosophical claims in the *Apology*. On the subject of life
after death, he presents himself as agnostic, although other texts
show him to have been committed to the immortality of the soul.



Some scholars have argued that Socrates' defense is ironic. On
this see Leibowitz 2014.


## 12. Crito



In the *Crito* Socrates states the doctrines most important to
his conception of the ethical life. He will give up his life rather
than compromise his ethics. His peers would all agree that life is not
worth living with a badly deformed body; they should agree that life
is even less worth living with the deformation of something more
important than the body--in other dialogues identified as the
soul. Acting wrongly causes serious injury to the soul. That is why
Socrates believes we must strive to avoid wrongdoing at all costs.



Crito, a wealthy Athenian friend of Socrates, has bribed the jailers
and prepared means for Socrates to escape from Athens, but Socrates
refuses on the grounds that to do so would be to damage the laws
wrongfully, and this violates his
 bedrock principle
 that one must never do wrong, even in return for a wrong. When Crito
appeals to popular opinion on the matter, Socrates replies that the
only authority he would accept on the matter would be that of someone
who is expert on the matter at hand, which is how doing right and
doing wrong affect the most important part of a person. This is
analogous to how health and disease affect the body. Socrates is
looking for an expert who is analogous to a doctor, whose specialty is
moral health and corruption. In the absence of such an expert,
however, he must make up his own mind.



His first conclusion is that nothing matters other than whether their
actions would be just or unjust, right or wrong.
("Justice" and "injustice" (*dike* and
*adikia*) in this context cover all other-regarding ethical
matters, and may be translated "right" and
"wrong.") Socrates then goes on to argue that they would
do wrong if they followed Crito's plan. His argument uses his
old method of accepting the reasoning (*logos*) that seems best
to him as he reasons about it (46b). The bedrock principle has guided
his life so far, and it would be absurd to give it up now merely
because his circumstances have changed (46b, 49ab).



His second conclusion is that they would do wrong if they followed
Crito's plan. The argument leads to a question Crito cannot
answer: One should abide by one's agreements provided they are
just; would I be abiding by my agreement if I escaped without
persuading the city (49e-50a)?



Because Crito cannot answer, Socrates personifies the laws and
imagines their response, on behalf of his obligation to them. (Here as
elsewhere, with the exception of the *Apology*, Socrates avoids
giving an extensive speech in his own persona.) The argument the laws
give is elaborate, and appeals mainly to two points: an agreement they
allege Socrates made to obey them by choosing to live in Athens, and
the benefits they claim Socrates has received from them, which place
Socrates under a stronger obligation to the laws than he has to his
parents. Neither Crito nor Socrates can reply to the arguments given
by the laws, and conclusion of the laws is allowed to stand.



The conclusion of these personified laws--that one must obey the
city in all things (51bc)--seems to conflict with a memorable
text in the *Apology*, as Grote first pointed out; there
Socrates promises to disobey the court if it should let him off on the
condition that he give up his mission in Athens (29d). Scholarly
opinions differ over how to reconcile these texts.


## 13. Euthyphro



A dialogue of definition, the *Euthyphro* takes up the subject
of reverence or piety, a virtue that traditionally bears on the
keeping of oaths, the treatment of the weak (such as prisoners and
suppliants), family relationships, and respect toward the gods. The
discussion here lifts reverence out of its traditional context, while
marking sharply the difference between reasoning about ethics and
accepting authority. The argument as a whole may imply support for the
 unity of virtue.



Socrates is on his way to answer the indictment against him; Euthyphro
is apparently a well-known crank on religious matters; his name
ironically means "straight-thinker." He has just lodged a
charge against his father for the accidental death of a servant
accused of murder. Most Athenians would probably have been shocked by
the irreverence of Euthyphro's prosecution of his father, but
Euthyphro is confident he is doing the right thing. His confidence
rests on the special knowledge he claims on the subject of
reverence.



Socrates presupposes that such special knowledge implies knowledge of
the definition of reverence. If Euthyphro knows what reverence is, he
should teach that to Socrates, so that Socrates may use the knowledge
in defense during his own trial. Euthyphro's first two answers
fail the first two conditions of
 Socratic definition;
 the first is not general ("what I am doing
now"--6d), and the second (being loved by a god) would make
the same things both reverent and irreverent; one god's love
would make an action reverent, while another god's hate would
make the same action irreverent (8ab). Socrates helps Euthyphro to a
better answer (reverence is what is loved by all the gods), but this
succumbs to the requirement that a definition state the essence of its
subject (11ab). The essence of reverence cannot be conferred on
reverent actions by the gods' approval of them; their approval,
rather, must follow on the actions' partaking of the essential
nature of reverence. So actions are made reverent not by pleasing a
god, but by satisfying the definition of reverence--or so most
modern readers have inferred.



Socrates then explores the idea that reverence is a proper part of
justice, without finding a way to specify what part it is. Attempts to
differentiate reverence from justice by appeal to the gods lead back
to the better answer that was refuted earlier. The conclusion is
*aporia* (impasse); many scholars believe that it points to a
theoretical conclusion, a component of Socrates' doctrine of the
unity of virtue. There is no way to differentiate reverence from
justice in a definition, because there is no essential difference
between them; reverence is simply justice described with reference to
the love that the gods bear for justice. Other scholars have held that
Socratic reverence is the specific duty we have to the gods that we
cultivate all of virtue in our souls, as suggested by Socrates'
claim in the *Apology* that his mission was given him by the
god (Woodruff 2019).


## 14. Charmides



The main theme of this dialogue is the role of knowledge in the virtue
under discussion. A dialogue of definition, the *Charmides*
takes up the subject of *sophrosune,* a word that does not have
a clear equivalent in English. It is the virtue of having a morally
healthy soul, undamaged by wrongdoing, and nourished by knowledge or
wisdom. *Sophrosune* produces the ability to resist the
temptation to act violently in satisfaction of desires, the temptation
that, in Plato's scheme of things, characteristically leads
tyrants to disaster. But *sophrosune* is not the same as
self-control (*enkrateia*), which presupposes a division in the
soul into a part that controls and a part that is controlled. 



Translation. *Sophrosune* has been rendered as temperance,
self-control, sound-mindedness, and discipline. Integrity is preferred
by the author of this article, since the Socrates of these dialogues
emphasizes the wholeness or undivideness of the healthy soul
(*Gorgias* 482b and 506e-507a, cf. 475e-476a with
*Republic* 1.352a).



Dates and historical background. The dramatic date appears to be
before the birth of Plato. The main characters aside from Socrates are
Charmides (a teenager at the time) and Plato's relative Critias.
By the time Plato wrote the dialogue, both men had been killed in the
battle of the Piraeus, in 403BCE. Critias had been the leader of the
group known to their enemies as the Thirty Tyrants, and Charmides had
been among the extended leadership established by the Thirty. The
excesses of the Thirty, who had conducted a violent and rapacious
reign of terror in 404-03, provide an historical counterpoint to
the declared interest of these men in *sophrosune* almost
thirty years earlier.



The topic arises when Charmides is praised for both external and
internal good qualities, including *sophrosune*.
Socrates assumes that Charmides must have some sense of what this
virtue is, if he has it within him (158e). Charmides answers first
that *sophrosune* is a kind of quietness and order
(159b); indeed, he has a reputation for *sophrosune*
because of his quiet and orderly good manners. This fails because
*sophrosune* is among those things that are always
*kalon* (fine), and quietness is fine only in certain contexts.
The relevant condition on definition in this case is that of
exclusion; the proposed explanation does not exclude things that are
not *sophron*. Charmides' second attempt fails by the
same criterion: a sense of shame looks like
*sophrosune* in some contexts, but it appears not
always to be a good thing (160e-161b). His third attempt is
plagiarized, probably from Critias, who may have heard it from
Socrates: *sophrosune* is doing one's own things
(a phrase identical to that used in the *Republic* to define
justice). Charmides is unable to explain what this means. Critias
takes over, in order to defend his definition, and is led to gloss it
as doing good things (163e).



Socrates then introduces the issue of knowledge, which Critias agrees
is necessary to the exercise of *sophrosune.* But
knowledge of what? Critias suggests that it is self-knowledge that is
*sophrosune* (164d). Critias has in mind the kind of
self-knowledge that consists in knowing what one knows and what one
does not know. From this it is a short step to defining the virtue as
the knowledge of itself and the other kinds of knowledge--i.e.,
the knowledge that enables one to evaluate all sorts of knowledge
claims (166e). Socrates raises two questions about this kind of
knowledge: whether it is possible, and whether it is beneficial
(relevant because the virtue was assumed to be beneficial). It would
seem impossible for there to be such a kind of knowledge, since all
other examples of kinds of knowledge have subject matter specific to
each, and this would be an exception. To know whether a candidate has
knowledge of medicine, for example, one would need to know medicine.
As for the question of benefit, it would appear that such knowledge is
beneficial (173a, ff.), because it would allow us to submit all
decisions to knowledge. But the appearance is deceptive, because the
knowledge of knowledge does not add anything to the various kinds of
knowledge (such as medicine) on which we depend.



The kind of knowledge that would be most beneficial would be knowledge
of good and evil (174b, ff.), but this is not the same thing as
*sophrosune*. So this line of inquiry has led to the
contrary results that the virtue in question is and is not beneficial.
The speakers confess *aporia* (an impasse) and pledge to
continue. Critias and Charmides threaten to use force to wrest
continuing education from Socrates. This is a joke, but it comes with
a disturbing historical irony, because Charmides will follow Critias
into a leadership position in the regime of the Thirty Tyrants. Their
use of force will terrorize the people, but not achieve what Critias
wants in the long run.



As with other aporetic dialogues, we are left without a clear answer.
As with *Laches* and *Euthyphro*, however, the inquiry
has led to a suggestion that goes beyond defining one among a number
of independent virtues to investigating something of unbounded ethical
importance, the knowledge of good and evil. For a recent thorough
commentary on the *Charmides*, see Moore and Raymond 2019.


## 15. Laches



A dialogue of definition, the *Laches* takes up the subject of
courage, broadly construed. Unique among ancient writings about
courage, the *Laches* takes courage far beyond the battlefield,
seeking a definition for courage not only in war but also in
seafaring, in illness, in poverty, and in politics (191d). The
principal interlocutors are men of military experience, Laches and
Nicias. Nicias is known to us for his prominence in the Sicilian
expedition, which has been narrated in melancholy detail by Thucydides
(Books 6 and 7). He was enormously brave in battle, but a coward in
politics, afraid to tell the Athenian people how dangerously situated
their army was. His life in itself illustrates the importance,
recognized by Socrates, of cultivating courage in every arena of
action or suffering



The dialogue begins with a specific query about military training for
the young. A teacher is in town, displaying a new technique for
fighting in armor, and two elderly fathers (Lysimachus and Melesias)
are trying to determine whether they should send their young sons to
this teacher. Lacking accomplishments, the fathers have no confidence
in their ability to choose how their sons should be educated, and they
have asked the two generals, Laches and Nicias, to observe the display
and advise them. Nicias advises them to accept advice from Socrates as
well, because Socrates has referred him to an excellent teacher of
music (180d); Laches supports Socrates' reputation, citing his
actions at the battle of Delium, a disastrous defeat for Athens in
which, as we know from other sources, Socrates showed extraordinary
courage (181b). This example will cast a long shadow over the
subsequent discussion, for Socrates' courage in this case was
shown not merely in defeat, but during a rout.



Socrates makes a move that will become familiar in other dialogues.
The anxious fathers have consulted generals, and Socrates thinks the
fathers are on the right track; they should consult an expert (185a),
but for some time Socrates leaves it unclear what subject the expert
should be expert about. The anxious fathers had not expressed concern
about ethics, but Socrates takes their question as ethical. He assumes
that the purpose of any form of military training is to instill
courage in the soul (185e, with 190d), and he infers they are seeking
an expert in that. He then introduces this basic premise: an expert in
instilling *X* must know what *X* is (190a).



If there is an expert on military training, then, that expert will be
able to say what courage is. Laches tries first, with an answer that
is inconsistent with his praise for Socrates: Courage is staying at
your post and not running away (190e). Socrates had shown courage
during a retreat, the military maneuver that most calls for courage.
Laches' proposal plainly fails by the generality requirement,
and Socrates shows this with examples of courage that do not satisfy
the proposed definition (191a-d).



Laches' second try is that courage is a kind of endurance of the
soul (192c), But what kind of endurance, foolish or wise? Here Laches
enters a tangle; he does not want to say that courage is ever foolish,
because then courage would not be reliably *kalon*, as all
those present believe that it is, and the definition would fail the
exclusion requirement. Nor does Laches want to say that courage is
*sophos* (wise), since that would entail mastery of the matter
at hand, and such mastery seems to render actions less courageous
(192c-193e). Unable to see a way out of this tangle, Laches
agrees with Socrates that he does not have a good answer.



Laches' tangle requires someone to specify the kind of wisdom
that courage requires, and Nicias is prepared to do that. Courage, he
proposes, is knowledge of what should inspire terror or confidence in
war or any other circumstance (195a). Socrates then understands this
to be knowledge of future goods and evils. This, as we shall see, is
very similar to the definition that Socrates will give to Protagoras
in the *Protagoras* (360d). Even so, the proposal will go down
to defeat. Knowledge of good and evil is not carved up by temporal
words such as "future,"and knowledge of good and evil
plainly embraces far more than courage; indeed, it would be the whole
of virtue (199e). But Nicias has been clear that courage is only a
part of virtue (198a, from 190cd). So he too has failed to establish
that he knows what courage is.



How should readers take this outcome? Has Socrates refuted the
position he takes in the *Protagoras* to his own satisfaction?
The matter is debated by scholars. Perhaps we can apply here a tool
given us in the *Euthyphro*, where a statement about reverence
(that it is loved by all the gods) was taken to be true, but not to be
the definition of reverence. In a similar way, "knowledge of
future goods and evils" could be true of courage without
satisfying the conditions of definition. In this case, that would be
because (it seems) courage cannot be differentiated by definition from
virtue as a whole, just as reverence apparently could not be
differentiated from justice. If so, then these virtues cannot be
defined independently, but must be recognized in practice as
particular aspects or applications of wisdom. Like the
*Euthyphro*, then, the *Laches* could be read as
supporting the unity of virtue. But this reading is not obvious; taken
by itself, the dialogue seems to end on ground that is hostile to the
unity of virtue.


## 16. Hippias Major



The authenticity of this dialogue has been questioned (see
 Section 17).
 A dialogue of definition, the *Hippias Major* takes up the
subject of the fine or beautiful (*to kalon*), one of the two
most general terms of commendation in ancient Greek, the other being
*agathon*, good, nearly a synonym. Being *kalon* is the
primary feature of each of the virtues, and, by implication, the
dialogue points to an important Socratic idea about ethics: That in
being *kalon* a virtue is beneficial.



Hippias is a sophist from Elis, in the northwest corner of the
Peloponnesus; he takes pride in being a polymath, an expert on many
subjects including rhetoric, history, and mathematics. The question of
defining *to kalon* arises because Hippias boasts about the
high quality of a speech he will soon make, and he invites Socrates to
attend, along with others capable of judging a speech. Socrates by
implication invokes the
 priority of definition:
 How can anyone judge what is fine or foul in a speech, without
knowing what it is to be fine (286c)? "Fine" translates
the Greek *kalon*, a general term of commendation that is often
rendered as "beautiful," "amiable," or
"noble," but often simply means "good." Its
opposite, *aischron* means "ugly,"
"disgusting," "shameful," or
"foul."



At this point Socrates introduces a strikingly unique feature of the
dialogue, the Questioner--someone who, Socrates says, will not
allow him to get away with claims that imply knowledge, but persists
in asking him shame-inducing questions such as this one about defining
*to kalon.* Since the Questioner meets Socrates in the privacy
of his home, we must imagine that he is Socrates' alter ego, and
that the process referred to is the self-elenchus by which Socrates is
driven to his famous disclaimer of knowledge.



The dialogue reviews seven possible definitions, three proposed by
Hippias, and four more sophisticated ones proposed by Socrates. All
are refuted, and the dialogue ends at an impasse (*aporia*), as
is usual for works in this group.The final arguments do, nevertheless,
point to the idea that a good (such as a virtue, probably) can be
beneficial by replicating itself.



Hippias makes three category mistakes, one in each of his answers to
the question, "What is the Fine?" (287e-293c) He
identifies three kinds of entity that can be fine--a particular
(a fine girl), a mass substance (gold), and a universal (living the
traditional good life). Socrates' double strategy is the same in
each case: (1) To show that the answer fails the generality
requirement; it does not explain all the cases of being fine. (2) To
show that the fine entity to which Hippias refers is not fine in every
context. This violates the exclusion requirement, for it does not
exclude non-fine things. It also implies that the answer fails to
satisfy the explanation requirement; generally, to explain
*X*ness, something must be *X* no matter what (synonymy
requirement). If fire explains heat, that is because it is always hot;
but gold cannot explain fineness, because gold is not always fine; it
is foul as material for cookware. All of these answers fail for two
kinds of reasons: because they are merely examples of fine things, and
because they identify things that are fine only in certain contexts,
leaving unanswered the question of what makes them fine in those
contexts but not in others.



Hippias' three answers have much in common, but they range over
three different metaphysical types, particulars, mass substances, and
universals. Hippias has attempted greater degrees of generality in his
second and third answers (gold and living the good life), but the more
general answers still fail. What Socrates seeks is not so much
generality as it is explanatory power.



The remaining four answers are better candidates and come (as in the
*Euthyphro*) from Socrates, though in this case he attributes
them to the Questioner, his alter ego. They are that the fine is (1)
the appropriate, (2) the able, (3) the beneficial, and (4) pleasure
through sight and hearing. These represent a single strategy, which
tries to tease out the deeper meaning in the intuition that fine and
good things are beneficial. The appropriate and the able are
attractive answers, but only when they are taken to imply that the
fine is beneficial. This answer, however, leads to an odd result: if
to be fine is to be beneficial, then the fine will be productive of
the good, and if it is productive of the good, then (apparently) the
fine cannot be good, because cause and effect cannot be the same. But
that is unacceptable; the fine must be good. The conclusion invites us
to ask whether a good can be beneficial in being able to replicate
itself. (See Section 6 on
 instrumentality.)
 The last answer (pleasure through sight and hearing) attempts an
aesthetic construction of the fine, and founders on the problem of
disjunctive definition. "What's fine is hard,"
Socrates concludes, resigned to being unable to judge what is fine or
foul in a speech until he learns what the fine is.


## 17. The Authenticity of the *Hippias Major*



The authenticity of the *Hippias Major* has been in doubt since
the middle of the nineteenth century; although many scholars accept it
as genuine, there are notable exceptions such as Charles Kahn and
Holger Thesleff. The argument against authenticity is based partly on
the silence of classical sources about it, and partly on the style.
Aristotle's reference to a dialogue called simply the
*Hippias* is plainly to the *Hippias Minor*
(*Metaphysics* 1025a6-13). The style is most likely from
the fourth century BCE (Plato's century), but some scholars have
argued that its vocabulary places the dialogue too late in the fourth
century for Platonic authorship. The argument in favor of authenticity
follows the presumption in favor of the ancient canon of Thrasyllus
(which is right in most cases) and appeals to the unique and inventive
features of the dialogue, which betray more artistry than could be
expected from a forger. As with a number of dialogues from the canon,
however, the case must be left not proven.


## 18. Hippias Minor



The *Hippias Minor* shows Socrates defeating a sophist on an
ethical matter: whether it is better to do wrong voluntarily or in
ignorance. Socrates concludes, somewhat unhappily, that it is better
to do wrong voluntarily. The issue arises in the context of
Hippias' multiple claims to expertise; he can win speaking
contests on any topic, and he has excelled in many different arts,
from shoemaking to the art of memory (363cd, 368be). Socrates asks a
question that at first appears to be about Homer--which is the
better man, Achilles or Odysseus? The tradition has been to regard
Achilles as honest, and Odysseus as given to lying, but it is this
tradition that Socrates intends to bring into question. He argues, by
example, that an expert in any given field is best able to speak false
in that field, since an amateur liar might stumble on the truth. It
follows that a good liar will be an expert in the subject of his lies,
and he will also be a good truth teller in that field, and *vice
versa*. So if Achilles is a good truth teller, he will be a good
liar as well, and if Odysseus is a good liar, he will be a good truth
teller also.



Hippias rejects this conclusion. He argues that Homer shows Achilles
to be honest and Odysseus to be a liar through the speech at
*Iliad* 9.308, ff., which Achilles addresses to Odysseus:
"I hate like the gates of hell that man who says one thing and
has another in his mind." Hippias is doubly mistaken in using
this passage as evidence for his view. At most this would show that
Achilles (not Homer) takes Odysseus to be a liar, but in fact the text
clearly refers to Agamemnon. Achilles takes Odysseus' word for
what Agamemnon has promised him, but he believes that Agamemnon is a
liar and that his promise is not truthful.



Socrates cannot interrogate Homer on the matter, so he will
investigate only the opinion of Hippias (365cd), although he will cite
Homeric texts in support of his position. Socrates argues that
Achilles is more deceptive than Odysseus, because on several occasions
he does not stay true to what he has said. Hippias rightly points out
that Achilles had no intention to deceive; he merely said what was in
his heart at each moment. Because his falsehood is involuntary, argues
Hippias, Achilles is the better man. Socrates disagrees: the voluntary
liar knows his subject better and has the better mind. He is therefore
the better man of the two.



This leads Socrates to his main theme: whether one who does wrong
voluntarily is better or worse than someone who does wrong
involuntarily (373c). Arguing by example, Socrates shows that any
failure, ethical or otherwise, would be better if it came as the
result of a deliberate choice, because that would imply that the
person who erred had the knowledge to do the thing right if he or she
wanted to. He concludes: "Then he who voluntarily goes wrong
(*hekon* *hamartanon*), doing shameful and unjust
things, if indeed he exists, would be no other than the good
man" (376b). Hippias cannot accept this line of reasoning, and
Socrates admits he is uncomfortable with it ("No more can I
concede the point to myself").



The argument for this conclusion assumed from the outset that it is
possible to go wrong voluntarily; this was Hippias' proposal in
the case of Odysseus. But Socrates has assumed or stated the contrary
elsewhere: no one goes wrong voluntarily (*Apology* 26a,
*Protagoras* 345e). The argument also assumes that people do
good and bad actions on the basis of *techne;* it is reasonable
to suppose that a
 *techne*
 that could lead to good actions could also lead to bad ones. But
*techne* can be taught, so that if good and bad action are due
to a *techne*, then people could be taught to act well or
poorly. But Socrates does not believe that virtue can be taught
(*Protagoras* 319a-320c). In sum, the awkward conclusion
(that it is better to do wrong voluntarily) would follow from premises
that Hippias supports, but not from the views Socrates elsewhere
affirms.


## 19. Euthydemus



The *Euthydemus* is more complex in structure than the other
dialogues in this group. A substantial framing dialogue between
Socrates and Crito surrounds and intrudes upon a reported discussion
involving Socrates and two brothers, Euthydemus and Dionysodorus,
travelling teachers who have much in common with the sophists, and who
claim to teach virtue, rather than the forensic rhetoric expected of
such experts (274d). The discussion takes place at the Lyceum, for the
benefit of the boy Clinias and his admirer Ctesippus. The main
question in both the frame and the embedded dialogue concerns
education: To what sort of teaching should the young be entrusted?



Socrates challenges the brothers to show that, in addition to teaching
virtue, they can convince a pupil that he should learn virtue from
them. Instead of rising to this challenge directly, the brothers
entangle Clinias in two verbal traps and are preparing a third when
Socrates interrupts with the diagnosis (obviously correct) that these
traps depend on ignoring the careful use of verbal distinctions
(277d-278a).



Socrates then demonstrates his method of attracting a young person to
the pursuit of virtue and wisdom, which, by the end of the passage,
have been conflated into wisdom. With Clinias, he lists various good
things: Wealth, health, good looks, and honor comprise one list, while
courage, sound-mindedness, justice, and wisdom comprise another. Then
Socrates surprises the boy by claiming that good fortune simply is
wisdom; he defends the claim by arguing that no good thing is
beneficial unless its use is guided by wisdom. It follows that the
items on the first list are neither good nor bad in themselves (281d),
and that the principal good to pursue is wisdom. We are probably left
to suppose that the virtues on the second list are identical to
wisdom. In any event, Clinias now expresses his wish to acquire
wisdom.



The brothers intervene with new and more disturbing arguments: it is
not possible to speak false or to hold a false view or to contradict,
they say, possibly echoing theses of the sophist Protagoras.



The second conversation between Socrates and Clinias treats wisdom as
a
 *techne* 
 and explores the subordination of one techne to another, as the art
of the general (winning battles) is subordinate to the art of politics
(making use of victories). The supreme *techne* he calls kingly
or royal, and this is the *techne* that guides the use of all
others (291c), but this line of inquiry founders on a question that
appears unanswerable: What is the specific knowledge that is given by
the kingly *techne*? A *techne* is supposed to have a
well-defined subject matter, but the kingly *techne*, which
requires general wisdom, would oversee all subject matter and
therefore would seem to have no subject matter proper to itself.
Perhaps Socrates thinks the subject of this *techne* is good
and evil, or perhaps virtue, but he does not say either, nor does he
explain how these could be the subjects of a
 *techne*.
 Because a *techne* is, by definition, teachable, Socrates
would have to establish that such knowledge can be taught, but as we
see from the
 *Protagoras*
 Socrates has grave doubts on this score.



A few more traps are set by the brothers, who exploit the similarity
between complete (or absolute) and incomplete (or relative)
predication: the dog is a dog in any semantic context, but he is a
father in relation to his puppies only, and not to his master.



Socrates returns to his framing discussion with Crito on the
overarching theme of the dialogue, the question of what sort of study
should be pursued as philosophy, and this is left as a challenge for
Crito. The dialogue ends, as do most in this group,
inconclusively.


## 20. Protagoras



The *Protagoras* is the most substantial dialogue in this
group. Its general theme is the question whether virtue can be taught,
and this leads to the question whether virtue is wisdom or knowledge.
Other topics treated in the dialogue are the
 unity of virtue,
 the
 instrumentality of virtue
 for pleasure, and the denial of
 *acrasia*.



The two main speakers divide on these questions in an unexpected way:
Socrates, who believes that virtue cannot be taught, and that he does
not teach it, defends the unity of all virtues with wisdom, even
courage; Protagoras, who believes that virtue can be taught, and that
he teaches it, denies that courage is wisdom or any sort of knowledge.
Moreover, Socrates, who elsewhere rejects hedonism, seems to identify
virtue with a hedonic calculus in this dialogue, through an argument
that leads to his famous claim that of
 *acrasia*
 (weakness of will) is impossible.



The setting of the *Protagoras* is striking: the cast of
characters is the same as that in the *Symposium*, but here
they are gathered for exhibitions of the skill of the sophists,
especially of Protagoras. Socrates, speaking on behalf of a
prospective student, prompts Protagoras to say what it is that he
teaches. It is, says Protagoras, good judgment, so that one may act
and speak most effectively both in private and in public matters
(318e).



In a substantial comment (319a-320c), Socrates understands this
to mean that Protagoras teaches the *techne* of good
citizenship, which he takes to be the virtue of citizens, and to
include political wisdom. Socrates argues that such virtue cannot be
taught; if it could, Pericles would have imparted it to his sons, but
he failed to do so. This argument might convince Socrates'
audience, but it cannot have convinced Socrates, who was no great
admirer of Pericles.



Protagoras responds with an enormous speech, often called the
"great speech," (320c-328d), which is divided into a
myth and an account (*logos*). Many scholars accept the content
of the speech as Protagorean, although the setting surely belongs to
historical fiction. In sum, Protagoras thinks that the political
virtues of justice and reverence or sound-mindedness are necessary to
human communities, and that all normal human beings therefore have the
capacity to acquire those virtues to some extent (although not all to
the same extent), just as all human beings have the capacity to learn
a language. As in the case of language, the community teaches the
political virtues to its citizens from early childhood on, and
Protagoras discusses in some detail the traditional stages in
education which he believes lead to this result. He also provides a
theory of punishment as educational of virtue.



Socrates does not take on Protagoras' claims directly. Instead,
he takes another tack and engages Protagoras in three rounds. In the
first round, he asks about the
 unity of virtues,
 arguing for the unity of justice and piety, of wisdom and
self-control, and of self-control and justice (328d-334c). The
series of arguments is inconclusive; Protagoras' consent to them
is grudging, and scholarly opinion is divided as to their soundness.
The series breaks down over the issue of sound-mindedness and
injustice. It would appear that one could apply a sound mind to unjust
actions (say, by not letting sensual pleasures distract one from a
life of theft). But Socrates seems about to say that both justice and
sound-mindedness aim at what is beneficial to human beings, and this
provokes Protagoras to affirm the incompleteness of the word
"advantageous": different things are advantageous to
different species, and in different applications.



There follows a discussion on how to discuss such issues, and
Protagoras starts a new line of conversation, this one dealing with
the interpretation of a poem by Simonides that seems to deal with the
acquisition and retention of virtue (338e-48a). Protagoras finds
what looks like an inconsistency in the poem, but Socrates introduces
distinctions (foreign to the text of the poem) that allow him to read
Simonides as supporting the Socratic views that (1) it is difficult to
acquire perfect virtue and (2) no one does wrong voluntarily. Socrates
does not believe, however, that it is wise to discourse upon poets who
are not present to explain themselves. It is far better for them to
present their own opinions (347c-348a).



Socrates brings the discussion back to the unity of virtue, here
arguing for the unity of courage and wisdom (348b-351b).
Socrates argues that knowledge leads to confidence, but Protagoras
insists that this is irrelevant, because not all confident people are
courageous.



Socrates then approaches the wisdom-virtue question from another
angle, that of
 *acrasia*
 (weakness of will, 351b-358d), seeking to show that there is a
kind of wisdom that is sufficient for virtue. This turns out to be a
hedonic calculus that gives full value to temporally distant pleasures
and pains. Socrates' argument is targeted on those who think
that wisdom can be overpowered by pleasure, as is the case with
someone whose knowledge of the ill-effects of certain foods eats them
anyway because of the pleasure they afford. If the scale of pleasures
is the only scale of good, however, and if the agents in this case
have the wisdom to calculate correctly the pleasure the agents may
reasonably expect from each choice, then they cannot be led by
pleasure to choose the worse, or less pleasurable course. The popular
explanation for eating what we know is bad for us turns out, on this
showing, to be incoherent. Some philosophers have thought Socrates
simply overlooked the psychological facts of such cases, but Aristotle
makes distinctions that allow him to retain the Socratic view that
ethical failure implies cognitive failure without sacrificing common
ideas about human motivation (*Nicomachean Ethics* 7). The
matter was and still is controversial among philosophers.



Does the passage imply that Socrates is a hedonist? Protagoras does
not accept the narrow hedonism of Socrates' premise, so it
appears that the hedonism is Socrates' own. It is not anyone
else's. And yet we know that Socrates is elsewhere opposed to
hedonism; his solution to the ethical problem of the *Crito* is
based not on pleasure but on what, after serious consideration, he
believes justice to require. There is no consensus on how to solve the
puzzle. Could Socrates defend his doctrine on knowledge and
*acrasia* here without the hedonist premise? In the
*Republic* he will maintain at least part of that doctrine by
introducing a division of the soul into three parts. But if the soul
is undivided, hedonism may be Socrates' best defense (Moss
2014). In view of other dialogues, however, it is likely that Socrates
is using hedonism to build a trap for Protagoras. Absent hedonism,
what could a Protagoras teach that would amount to virtue?



Socrates now renews the discussion on wisdom and courage
(358d-360e). Socrates presses upon a reluctant Protagoras his
idea that courage is the knowledge of that which is and is not to be
feared (360d), a doctrine that, in effect, he has refuted as a
definition for courage in the
 *Laches*.
 The *Protagoras* ends inconclusively with agreement that the
matters at issue require more discussion.