Thus far philosophy has been depicted as an on-going activity of pursuit driven by the desire to know. As such, it involves a movement from lack to possession of knowledge, i.e. a movement of cognitive progression. Philosophy is thus an activity by which it is possible to acquire knowledge.315
On the other hand, the fact that philosophy is an on-going activity seems to imply a restriction on the possibility of possessing knowledge. Indeed, the desire persists inasmuch as the object is not attained. This is relevant because it makes us wonder whether we should think of the philosopher essentially as a lover (rather than a ‘knower’), inasmuch as he can only desire, but not possess his object of desire. It is still unsettled whether this is an unsatisfied or rather unsatisfiable desire for an unattained or unattainable object.
The question of the philosopher’s acquisition of knowledge is discussed in some detail in the Phaedo (64a-69e). Soon to face his own death, Socrates intends to defend (against Cebes’ opinion) his statement that philosophers are willing to die (61c8). First of all, Socrates makes sure they all agree that death is ‘the separation of the soul from the body’ (64c2).316 Socrates is now set to demonstrate that the philosopher ignores the body by dismissing all kinds of physical pleasures (food, drink, sex, ornaments). This will prove relevant to asserting the philosopher’s advantage over other souls. Having recognised that the philosopher is not guided by the needs of the body, Socrates goes on to describe the philosopher’s primary task: the acquisition of knowledge (tēs phronēseōs ktēsis; 65a9). As he declares, while our senses (mainly sight and hearing) cannot apprehend their object accurately, the soul, by pure reasoning (logizesthai; 65c2), captures its object clearly. In the search of for the good (205a6; 205e7). As Khan claims, erōs in the Symposium is rational desire for the good and beautiful (1996, p. 262).
315 Philosophy is defined as acquisition of knowledge (ktēsis epistēmēs) in the Euthyd. 288d8.
316 The problems arising from Socrates’ definition are discussed at length by Gallop (1975) and
Bostock (1986). The question about the immortality of the soul is, of course, crucial in the dialogue. At this point of the argument, what needs to be established, as Hackforth states, is the admission ‘that we can properly think and speak of soul “apart” from the body’ (1955, p. 44n1).
wisdom the body then becomes a hindrance, an obstacle. By dissociating from the body, the philosopher becomes closer to that purer state of knowledge, his soul being ahead of the rest.
Although closer to that pure state of knowledge, the embodied soul of the philosopher is still constrained by physical conditions and consequently is unable to contemplate the truth: ‘as long as we have a body and our soul is fused with such an evil we shall never adequately attain what we desire, which we affirm to be the truth’ (66b5-7). Only the disembodied soul is allowed to behold the truth.317
In this context, the philosopher’s desire for knowledge is only satisfied after being separated from the body, i.e. dead. Socrates declares:
It really has been shown to us that, if we are ever to have pure knowledge [εἰ μέλλομέν ποτε καθαρῶς τι εἴσεσθαι], we must escape from the body and observe things in themselves with the soul by itself. It seems likely that we shall, only then, when we are dead, attain that which we desire and of which we claim to be lovers, namely, wisdom [οὗ ἐπιθυμοῦμέν τε καί φαμεν ἐρασταὶ εἶναι, φρονήσεως], as our argument shows, not while we live; for if it is impossible to attain any pure knowledge [καθαρῶς γνῶναι] with the body, then one of two things is true: either we can never attain knowledge or we can do so after death [ἢ οὐδαμοῦ ἔστιν κτήσασθαι τὸ εἰδέναι ἢ τελευτήσασιν] (66d7-e6).
It is worth drawing attention to the way Socrates presents the case of philosophers. As this and other passages show, Socrates refers to ‘we’ (hēmin), by which he implies ‘we philosophers’.318
Socrates’ defence of the philosopher’s willingness to die ultimately proves that he is not afraid to die, the assumption being that he is a philosopher. The title philosophos is not being used lightly. Indeed, often in the text Socrates uses the qualification ‘serious’ and ‘real’.319
At 67d7-8 Socrates asks: ‘It is only those who practice philosophy in the right way [μάλιστα καὶ μόνοι οἱ
317 Of course, the fact that only the disembodied soul can contemplate the truth does not imply that
every disembodied soul can contemplate the truth. ‘Socrates says simply that he has spent his whole life practicing for death, but he does not mean that he has been practicing for what happens to all men when they die’ (Bostock 1986, p. 30). According to Bostock, there are two (compatible) views on the after-life of the soul in the Phaedo: one applies to the philosopher’s soul on the basis that pure reasoning is possible; another applies to ordinary souls on the basis that other activities persist into the disembodied state. The two views are, according to Bostock, reconciled by a religious doctrine taken from Orphics or Pythagoreans: ‘a doctrine of sin, purgatory, reincarnation, and eventual purification and release from ‘from the wheel of rebirth’ (1986, p. 29). Similarly, in the Phaedrus, the soul of the philosopher has a privileged status (248d3).
318 See also 67b7.
319 These considerations are for ‘serious philosophers’ (gnēsiōs philosophois; 66b2) or, what seems to
φιλοσοφοῦντες ὀρθῶς], we say, who always most want to free the soul?’ Someone who philosophises in the right way is ready to die, for he knows that he will satisfy his lifelong desire to attain knowledge. Thus it would be odd for someone who desires pure knowledge to be afraid of death, when ‘they may hope to attain that for which they had yearned during their lifetime, that is, wisdom [ἤρων τυχεῖν—ἤρων δὲ φρονήσεως]’ (68a1-2). As those who happily depart from life in the belief that they will reencounter those whom they used to love, explains Socrates, ‘a true lover of wisdom [φρονήσεως δὲ ἄρα τις τῷ ὄντι ἐρῶν], who has a similar hope and knows that he will never find it to any extent except in Hades’ (68a7-b1) would be also ready to depart. It is important to notice that desire or love for wisdom is here described in terms of eran and phronēsis. More than an equation, the context seems to indicate a correlation between phronēsis and sophia justified by an explicative or descriptive purpose. As Burnet suggests: ‘The phrase φρονήσεως ἐραταί is an explication of the name φιλόσοφοι’ (1911, p. 66). This analysis of the name is explicative, but also normative. Someone who ‘really’ or ‘truly’ loves wisdom ought to behave in a certain way. The core of the argument is to explain why philosophers are willing to die.320
Socrates’ justification of philosophers’ willingness lies in the fundamental characteristic by which a philosopher is identified as such: his love for knowledge. If philosophers love wisdom—as their name says they do—then they are willing to die since it is only after death, when the soul has separated from the body, that wisdom is attainable. The philosopher, by dissociating from the body, makes his life a dying process; by looking after the object akin to his soul, becomes closer to the knowledge of truth.
He concludes: ‘[o]ne must surely think so, my friend, if he is a true philosopher [ἐὰν τῷ ὄντι γε ᾖ, ὦ ἑταῖρε, φιλόσοφος·], for he is firmly convinced that he will not find pure knowledge [φρονήσει] anywhere except there’ (68b2-4). The philosopher’s characteristic drive and desire for knowledge arises as a result of Socrates’ attempt to demonstrate that philosophers are not afraid of death. ‘Real’ philosophers, that is, those who really ‘love’ sophia, will not be afraid of death. By contrast, a man troubled by death proves to be a lover of the body (philosōmatos), which Socrates identifies with the lover of money (philochrēmatos) and the lover of honour
320 Fear of death is generally considered to be an unphilosphical trait. See e.g. Rep. VI 486b, and Apol.
(philotimos) (68b8).321
Socrates’ definition of the philosopher is thus shaped by epistemological and psychological elements. In the Symposium, Plato’s philosophical
erōs is comparable to any desire; in the Phaedo the philosopher’s drive is asserted to
be different and superior to the drives of the body. In this context, the philosopher is described over other lovers, e.g. the lover of the body, because the object he pursues, i.e. truth, is only to be attained by the intellectual means he cultivates. Of course, it must be considered that this is not a dialogue about the power of erōs, but about the immortality of the soul, which is demonstrated by asserting the essential difference between body and soul. Compared to bodily desires, for example, thirst and hunger, demanding immediate satisfaction, the philosopher makes his desire for knowledge a lifelong activity.
Significantly, the dialogue provides a relevant source to determine the nature of the
phil(o)- component in consideration of the sophia component. For if sophia is an
unattainable target, then the desire becomes an on-going activity of pursuit. Sophia’s divine quality explains the name and activity of the philosophos. Sophia becomes a guiding ideal; something we can only approximate to, closer to divine sophia in the
Apology (cf. 3.3.3), a notion traceable back to Heraclitus (cf. 4.1.1). This notion will
prove particularly relevant in the Republic, to be discussed in the next chapter. Like the Phaedo, the Republic characterises the philosopher by the object he pursues, i.e. true knowledge of the Form; unlike the Phaedo, the philosopher is presented as having access to this knowledge while he lives.
4.6. Conclusion
The philosopher in Plato is characterised as a ‘lover of wisdom’. But the narrative of love Plato creates is novel and distinct. As compared to earlier accounts, where the label adjusts to different purposes, philosophia in Plato is conceptualised by reference to the meaning of each of its components. The name becomes an explanation of the philosopher’s characteristic activity and cognitive disposition. The name also becomes a normative standard, as it prescribes the philosopher’s ‘correct’ disposition toward the object loved. Thus the phil(o)- component, conceptualised in terms of
philia and erōs, establishes the philosopher’s mental and moral disposition to acquire
the object he loves. The characterisation of the philosopher as a lover allows Plato to distinguish philosophers from those in a state of ignorance, mostly those who think themselves wise, and from the wise, those who are in possession of knowledge. Midway between ignorance and wisdom, the philosophos moves from ignorance to wisdom by having the right cognitive disposition. In general, the element of love determines the philosopher’s ascent or epistemological progress towards truth. This asserts philosophers over other lovers because the object they pursue is always good. As we shall see in the next chapter, the Republic also describes the philosopher as a lover, although the possibility of becoming a sophos is opened up. But what distinguishes the philosopher from other experts and intellectuals is his psychological, moral and cognitive disposition to pursue truth. Contrary to public perception, this is what ultimately defines the philosopher’s political worth.