Human Nature
Podcast # 7: Recycling Souls
Albert A. Anderson
Copyright 2006
A. Our Dual Nature
So far in this series on human nature, I have focused on the contemporary scientific analysis of human beings and recent practical applications of biology and computer science. These days scientists and philosophers tend to favor a monistic view of human beings, a view that I have called scientific materialism. There is only one kind of stuff in the universe: matter in motion. Explaining human nature consists of explaining the human body in all its aspects, and the human brain is of great interest because that is the seat of consciousness, of thinking, of emotions, of sensations — of everything that we value about ourselves and other people. But this sophisticated and increasingly specialized way of thinking is a long way from the popular idea of human nature that is held by a large number of the 6.5 billion people who populate this planet.
Rather than thinking of themselves only as a body, most people talk about having something else, often called the soul. Religious doctrines and beliefs — especially Hinduism, Islam, and Christianity — foster this way of thinking. The soul is separable from the body, and when the body dies it continues to exist. How and where it exists differs from tradition to tradition, but the belief that it will survive the death of the body is central to many religions. In contrast to the materialistic monism of the current scientific view, this model of the human being is dualistic, often presented as two totally different substances: soul substance and corporeal substance.
When we subject such ideas to philosophical reflection, we expect more than unsupported belief or blind faith. Philosophy requires the rational analysis and justification of a fundamental concept such as the soul. The best-known philosophical version of the soul/body dualism in the modern world is the one developed in the 17th century by René Descartes. That model of human nature grows out of medieval Christianity, but what is most important for Descartes is to develop a rational account that rests on logical argument rather than on religious faith. He puts it this way:
“I have always thought that the two issues — of God and the soul — are chief among those that should be demonstrated with the aid of philosophy rather than theology. For although it suffices for us believers to believe by faith that the human soul does not die with the body, and that God exists, certainly no unbelievers seem capable of being persuaded of any religion or even of almost any moral virtue, until these two are first proven to them by natural reason. And since in this life greater rewards are often granted to vices rather than to virtues, few would prefer what is right to what is useful, if they neither feared God nor anticipated an afterlife” (René Descartes, Meditations on First Philosophy, translated by Donald Cress, Hackett, 1993).
2. Rather than focus on the Christian tradition, I would like to go farther back in time and explore an earlier version of this same topic. Today billions of people embrace the Christian, Muslim, or Hindu versions of this soul/body dualism. And there are many more who accept the same general model from other religious traditions. So, rather than complicate matters by choosing a particular faith that is practiced today, I would like to look at a religion that few people practice now, one that not only embraces this same dualistic vision but one that is probably the historical source of that same conceptual model. One of the best sources of the Orphic/Pythagorean way of thinking about the human soul and its destiny is Plato’s dialogue named Phaedo. This model of the human being is introduced in the context of Socrates’ impending death. Separating the soul from the body is a blessing, not a curse:
“We have found a path that takes us straight to the conclusion that as long as we have a body, and reasoning by the soul is mingled with it and fouled by it, our passion for truth will never be satisfied. The body is a source of endless trouble, by its constant need for food and by diseases that disable us and impede our quest for reality. It also fills us with desires, passions, fears, and illusions — all kinds of nonsense. The body makes it impossible for us to have a single serious thought. What is the source of war, battles, and discord — where but from the body and its lusts? War stems from the love of property and money, and we need them for the sake of serving the body. As a result we have no time to pursue philosophy. Even when we find time to pursue an idea, the body introduces disorder, confusion, and fear that prevent us from seeing the truth. It appears that if we intend to acquire pure knowledge, we must release ourselves from the body. The soul itself must see the things themselves. Only then will we be able to acquire what we most desire — wisdom — the object of our love. As the argument shows, that can happen only after death, not while we are still alive. If the soul cannot have pure knowledge while the body accompanies it, we are left with only two alternatives. Either we cannot know at all, or it must happen after death. [67] Only then will the soul exist alone, without the intrusion of the body. As long as we are alive, it seems, we will only come closest to knowing when we have the least possible interest in the body and are not infected by it, purifying ourselves until the god releases us. Then the foolishness of the body will be cleared away. We will be pure and may accompany other pure souls in knowing the truth. For no impure thing is allowed to approach the pure.”
Simmias, these are the kinds of words that true lovers of wisdom cannot help believing and saying to each other. Do you agree with me about that?
Simmias: I certainly do, Socrates.
Socrates: If this is true, my friend, then I can hope that where I am going — there if anywhere — I will obtain what you and I have taken as our primary goal throughout our lives. Now that the time for my departure has been set, I leave with good expectations. This is true not only for me but for all who think that their mind has been purified.
Simmias: Of course.
Socrates: What is purification but separating the soul from the body, as we said earlier in this conversation? The soul develops the habit of gathering and collecting itself in every possible way apart from the body, dwelling by itself in this life and in the future, free from the chains of the body.
Simmias: True.
Socrates: Then do you agree that what we call death is precisely this separation and release of the soul from the body?
Simmias: Certainly.
Socrates: Genuine lovers of wisdom, and they alone, study how to release the soul from the body, and they are eager to reach that goal. Is that not their specialty?
Simmias: Yes.
Socrates: As I said in the beginning, it would be ridiculous for someone to learn to live as closely as possible in a state of death and then be angry when it comes.
Simmias: Of course it would (Plato’s Phaedo, Agora Publications, Inc., GP 67).
This dualistic way of thinking about the human being as composed of two separable parts — a body and a soul — was presented in Plato’s Phaedo almost 2,000 years before Descartes incorporated it into his philosophy. Not only is the basic concept of the soul/body distinction essentially the same, even the arguments Descartes uses to justify this view are similar to arguments presented in the Phaedo. Many historians of philosophy embrace the similarity between this view presented in Plato’s Phaedo and Descartes’ Meditations, and they often take it as evidence of the universality of this way of thinking. If the arguments presented by both Plato and Descartes are sound, that would amount to justifying the immortality of the soul by reason, not merely by faith.
However, most scholars who study Plato’s Phaedo carefully conclude that the arguments presented to support this dualistic view are not sound. So, the obvious question is why Plato, whose writings contain so many good arguments, includes such questionable support for the claim that the soul is immortal.
I think a better explanation lies in the fundamental nature of Plato’s dialectical way of doing philosophy. Plato created dialogues to allow us — his listeners and readers — to participate in the dialectical process. He did not write essays, sermons, speeches, legal briefs, scriptures, or commercial messages to persuade us to think his way. Sophists pretend to have the truth. Lovers of wisdom seek the truth. Plato’s dialogues have lasting value today because they show us how to think rather than telling us what to think. Although there was a man named Socrates who was tried and executed by the Athenians in 399 B.C., Plato’s character named Socrates differs from a historical person in many ways. Here the words of Aristotle are instructive:
“It is clear that the poet’s role is not to tell what has happened but to portray what might happen according to what is probable or necessary. The difference between a poet and a historian does not lie in whether they write in verse or in prose. [1451b] If the work of Herodotus were put into verse, it would still be history — with or without meter. The difference is that history relates what has happened and poetry portrays what might happen. Poetry is more philosophical and more significant than history; poetry presents universals, whereas history recounts particulars” (Aristotle, Poetics, 1451b — my translation).
Plato created a kind of poetry, not tragic, comic, epic, or lyrical poetry but what Aristotle called “Socratic dialogue.” The Phaedo, like a tragedy by Sophocles, has a plot (mythos), but it also has careful rational analysis of the ideas presented in the story Plato tells. The characters in the dialogue conduct that analysis; Plato is never a character in his own dialogues. What is so powerful about this way of writing is that it leads us into the thinking process and requires us to examine the ideas and the arguments presented by the various characters. Socrates is an important character in many of Plato’s dialogues, but he is absent or has only a minor role in some of the most important ones (for example, Parmenides and Sophist). In Phaedo Socrates is a complex character, one that twists and turns as the overall plot unfolds. In spite of the obvious dramatic interest in his impending death, the other characters are no less important than Socrates for understanding the dialectical process that unfolds as the work develops.
We are first introduced to Phaedo and Echecrates. Who are they? Echecrates is a member of the Pythagorean community at Phlius. Phaedo is a rare visitor to this religious community, so his narrative is Plato’s poetic device for telling the story of Socrates’ death. It is extremely important that this dialogue takes place in a Pythagorean religious community, because the dialogue begins by presenting and analyzing the Orphic/Pythagorean way of thinking about the soul. Echecrates represents the kid of Pythagorean tradition that began to emerge a century before Plato’s birth. Pythagoras himself flourished around 530 B.C. His philosophy had two important but quite different aspects: (a) A mathematical/scientific component and (b) a religious component that was very much concerned with rite and ritual as practiced in the Orphic tradition. Orphism was a mystery religion extending at least to the 7th century B.C. One of its main doctrines was the purification of the soul as preparation for death and reincarnation. This tradition taught the soul (psyche) existed before our birth and that it will continue to exist after the death of the body. The body (soma) is a kind of tomb or prison; death is a form of escape from that prison. This form of Pythagoreanism promoted strong ethical beliefs that focused on avoiding bodily pleasures and, though ritual purification, preparing the soul for its future journey. Because the soul existed before birth, it once knew what it has now forgotten. To learn is to recollect what the soul once knew in its previous existence. Pythagoras first used the term “lover of wisdom” (philosopher). The lover of wisdom seeks to purify the soul through recollection of divine truth, which, for Pythagoras, is closely connected to the study mathematics and music — not as aesthetic phenomena but as a body of scientific knowledge.
There is another, quite different, Pythagorean tradition present in Phaedo. Simmias and Cebes, who are students of Philolaus, represent that tradition. Historically, Philolaus was contemporary with Socrates and represented a form of Pythagoreanism that had mostly dropped the religious aspect and was primarily interested in scientific/mathematical investigation. By the time of Philolaus the idea of the soul had changed. Instead of a separate and detachable entity, Philolaus and his students thought of the soul as a “harmony.” The idea of harmony has strong Pythagorean precedent (it was initially a kind of cosmic harmony exemplified in the “music of he spheres”). However, when the soul is considered to be a harmony of bodily parts it is hard to reconcile that view with the concept of a soul that precedes our birth and survives the death of our body.
Plato has set the stage for analyzing of the idea of soul in this dialogue. Other, quite different ideas of the soul are presented and examined in other dialogues such as Phaedrus, Republic, and Timaeus. In this dialogue two strains of Pythagorean thinking are examined, not because Plato is trying to promote one tradition or another, but because both traditions have shaped the consciousness of his students and, since some of their elements are contradictory, they require reflection and analysis. The ideas of the soul presented and examined in the Phaedo serve as a kind of cultural heritage similar to the beliefs about the soul that pervade our contemporary world, especially those derived from Christianity, Islam, and Hinduism. If we are to make rational sense out of those ideas, they must be analyzed and justified.
This background helps explain Socrates’ changing role in the dialogue. Simmias and Cebes, who learned what they know from Philolaus, seem to know little about the older Pythagorean tradition. So Plato uses Socrates to introduce and explain the Pythagorean and Orphic doctrines from the “old time religion.” Simmias and Cebes are confused, because some of what Socrates says sounds familiar, but some of it contradicts other teachings from Philolaus. Socrates’ primary role in the Phaedo is to lead the way as the overall dialectical process unfolds. After his destructive analysis of some of the ideas and arguments from Pythagoreanism, Socrates pauses to plead with Simmias and Cebes not to give up on reasoning itself just because some arguments fail. Above all we should be concerned not with Socrates but with the truth:
Socrates: Phaedo, if truth, certainty, and the power to know can be obtained, it would be too bad for people to become annoyed when what seems to be true turns out to be false and to blame dialectic rather than blaming themselves and their lack of ability. It would be a shame to blame and hate reasoning and thus lose the truth and never know what is.
Phaedo: Yes, Socrates, that would be unfortunate.
Socrates: Then we must never let into our mind the idea that there is no truth or that there are no sound arguments. It would be better to say that we are not yet sound and that we must risk everything to become sound and wise — you and the others for the sake of living your life, and I because I am about to die. Right now I am in danger of not being a lover of wisdom and — like uneducated people — only advocating my point of view. When such people argue, they do not care at all about the truth. They only try to convince those who are listening to believe what they believe; but I differ from them in that I am primarily interested in convincing myself and only incidentally concerned about convincing them. My friend, consider how much I gain by this approach — see how greedy I am. If what I say is true, then I benefit from believing it. But if I am nothing after death, then in the short time that remains I have at least avoided burdening my friends with lamentation and weeping. In that case my ignorance will soon come to an end and will do no harm. Simmias and Cebes, I return to your arguments in this state of mind. I urge you to give little attention to Socrates and a lot of thought to the truth. Agree with me if you think I am telling the truth, but if not, oppose my enthusiasm with all your might so that I can avoid deceiving both you and myself and, like a bee, leave my sting in you when I go (Plato’s Phaedo, GP 91, Agora Publications, Inc., 2005).
Plato’s overall project involves leading us through the process of examining various views of the soul and analyzing the arguments for and against those views. As is always the case with dialectical reasoning, where we wind up is quite different from where we start. So, I would suggest that Plato is not making mistakes in arguing for the personal immortality of Socrates, he is not overwhelmed by grief, nor is he favoring religion over philosophy. He is providing us with an opportunity to think through some popular views of human nature, all of which distinguish between body and soul. But I don’t think all of those ideas of soul lead to dualism. On the contrary, a powerful critique of dualism is one of the important contributions of Plato’s dialogues.
C. Mind
In addition to the ideas of the soul (psyche) and the body (soma), Socrates in the Phaedo also introduces the idea of mind (nous). He begins with the way the 5th century B.C. philosopher Anaxagoras writes about that concept and then develops some ideas of his own.
By the time the Phaedo is finished, Plato has both expanded how we might think about human nature, and he has given us an equally helpful way to think about nature itself — the overall cosmos or universe in which we exist.
In my next podcast I will discuss both soul and mind as those ideas evolve in the Phaedo. And I will pay special attention to what Plato retains from Pythagorean philosophy and how he transcends it to develop a way of thinking about human nature that is still attractive in the 21st century.
Podcast # 7: Recycling Souls
Albert A. Anderson
Copyright 2006
A. Our Dual Nature
So far in this series on human nature, I have focused on the contemporary scientific analysis of human beings and recent practical applications of biology and computer science. These days scientists and philosophers tend to favor a monistic view of human beings, a view that I have called scientific materialism. There is only one kind of stuff in the universe: matter in motion. Explaining human nature consists of explaining the human body in all its aspects, and the human brain is of great interest because that is the seat of consciousness, of thinking, of emotions, of sensations — of everything that we value about ourselves and other people. But this sophisticated and increasingly specialized way of thinking is a long way from the popular idea of human nature that is held by a large number of the 6.5 billion people who populate this planet.
Rather than thinking of themselves only as a body, most people talk about having something else, often called the soul. Religious doctrines and beliefs — especially Hinduism, Islam, and Christianity — foster this way of thinking. The soul is separable from the body, and when the body dies it continues to exist. How and where it exists differs from tradition to tradition, but the belief that it will survive the death of the body is central to many religions. In contrast to the materialistic monism of the current scientific view, this model of the human being is dualistic, often presented as two totally different substances: soul substance and corporeal substance.
When we subject such ideas to philosophical reflection, we expect more than unsupported belief or blind faith. Philosophy requires the rational analysis and justification of a fundamental concept such as the soul. The best-known philosophical version of the soul/body dualism in the modern world is the one developed in the 17th century by René Descartes. That model of human nature grows out of medieval Christianity, but what is most important for Descartes is to develop a rational account that rests on logical argument rather than on religious faith. He puts it this way:
“I have always thought that the two issues — of God and the soul — are chief among those that should be demonstrated with the aid of philosophy rather than theology. For although it suffices for us believers to believe by faith that the human soul does not die with the body, and that God exists, certainly no unbelievers seem capable of being persuaded of any religion or even of almost any moral virtue, until these two are first proven to them by natural reason. And since in this life greater rewards are often granted to vices rather than to virtues, few would prefer what is right to what is useful, if they neither feared God nor anticipated an afterlife” (René Descartes, Meditations on First Philosophy, translated by Donald Cress, Hackett, 1993).
2. Rather than focus on the Christian tradition, I would like to go farther back in time and explore an earlier version of this same topic. Today billions of people embrace the Christian, Muslim, or Hindu versions of this soul/body dualism. And there are many more who accept the same general model from other religious traditions. So, rather than complicate matters by choosing a particular faith that is practiced today, I would like to look at a religion that few people practice now, one that not only embraces this same dualistic vision but one that is probably the historical source of that same conceptual model. One of the best sources of the Orphic/Pythagorean way of thinking about the human soul and its destiny is Plato’s dialogue named Phaedo. This model of the human being is introduced in the context of Socrates’ impending death. Separating the soul from the body is a blessing, not a curse:
“We have found a path that takes us straight to the conclusion that as long as we have a body, and reasoning by the soul is mingled with it and fouled by it, our passion for truth will never be satisfied. The body is a source of endless trouble, by its constant need for food and by diseases that disable us and impede our quest for reality. It also fills us with desires, passions, fears, and illusions — all kinds of nonsense. The body makes it impossible for us to have a single serious thought. What is the source of war, battles, and discord — where but from the body and its lusts? War stems from the love of property and money, and we need them for the sake of serving the body. As a result we have no time to pursue philosophy. Even when we find time to pursue an idea, the body introduces disorder, confusion, and fear that prevent us from seeing the truth. It appears that if we intend to acquire pure knowledge, we must release ourselves from the body. The soul itself must see the things themselves. Only then will we be able to acquire what we most desire — wisdom — the object of our love. As the argument shows, that can happen only after death, not while we are still alive. If the soul cannot have pure knowledge while the body accompanies it, we are left with only two alternatives. Either we cannot know at all, or it must happen after death. [67] Only then will the soul exist alone, without the intrusion of the body. As long as we are alive, it seems, we will only come closest to knowing when we have the least possible interest in the body and are not infected by it, purifying ourselves until the god releases us. Then the foolishness of the body will be cleared away. We will be pure and may accompany other pure souls in knowing the truth. For no impure thing is allowed to approach the pure.”
Simmias, these are the kinds of words that true lovers of wisdom cannot help believing and saying to each other. Do you agree with me about that?
Simmias: I certainly do, Socrates.
Socrates: If this is true, my friend, then I can hope that where I am going — there if anywhere — I will obtain what you and I have taken as our primary goal throughout our lives. Now that the time for my departure has been set, I leave with good expectations. This is true not only for me but for all who think that their mind has been purified.
Simmias: Of course.
Socrates: What is purification but separating the soul from the body, as we said earlier in this conversation? The soul develops the habit of gathering and collecting itself in every possible way apart from the body, dwelling by itself in this life and in the future, free from the chains of the body.
Simmias: True.
Socrates: Then do you agree that what we call death is precisely this separation and release of the soul from the body?
Simmias: Certainly.
Socrates: Genuine lovers of wisdom, and they alone, study how to release the soul from the body, and they are eager to reach that goal. Is that not their specialty?
Simmias: Yes.
Socrates: As I said in the beginning, it would be ridiculous for someone to learn to live as closely as possible in a state of death and then be angry when it comes.
Simmias: Of course it would (Plato’s Phaedo, Agora Publications, Inc., GP 67).
This dualistic way of thinking about the human being as composed of two separable parts — a body and a soul — was presented in Plato’s Phaedo almost 2,000 years before Descartes incorporated it into his philosophy. Not only is the basic concept of the soul/body distinction essentially the same, even the arguments Descartes uses to justify this view are similar to arguments presented in the Phaedo. Many historians of philosophy embrace the similarity between this view presented in Plato’s Phaedo and Descartes’ Meditations, and they often take it as evidence of the universality of this way of thinking. If the arguments presented by both Plato and Descartes are sound, that would amount to justifying the immortality of the soul by reason, not merely by faith.
However, most scholars who study Plato’s Phaedo carefully conclude that the arguments presented to support this dualistic view are not sound. So, the obvious question is why Plato, whose writings contain so many good arguments, includes such questionable support for the claim that the soul is immortal.
- One explanation is that even good thinkers sometimes make mistakes.
- Another is that Plato was so emotionally disturbed by Socrates’ death that he consoled himself and Socrates’ other friends by pretending to prove that Socrates would continue to live in another, better world.
- Another is that his purpose in writing this dialogue was religious rather than philosophical and that it is designed to promote faith rather than reason.
I think a better explanation lies in the fundamental nature of Plato’s dialectical way of doing philosophy. Plato created dialogues to allow us — his listeners and readers — to participate in the dialectical process. He did not write essays, sermons, speeches, legal briefs, scriptures, or commercial messages to persuade us to think his way. Sophists pretend to have the truth. Lovers of wisdom seek the truth. Plato’s dialogues have lasting value today because they show us how to think rather than telling us what to think. Although there was a man named Socrates who was tried and executed by the Athenians in 399 B.C., Plato’s character named Socrates differs from a historical person in many ways. Here the words of Aristotle are instructive:
“It is clear that the poet’s role is not to tell what has happened but to portray what might happen according to what is probable or necessary. The difference between a poet and a historian does not lie in whether they write in verse or in prose. [1451b] If the work of Herodotus were put into verse, it would still be history — with or without meter. The difference is that history relates what has happened and poetry portrays what might happen. Poetry is more philosophical and more significant than history; poetry presents universals, whereas history recounts particulars” (Aristotle, Poetics, 1451b — my translation).
Plato created a kind of poetry, not tragic, comic, epic, or lyrical poetry but what Aristotle called “Socratic dialogue.” The Phaedo, like a tragedy by Sophocles, has a plot (mythos), but it also has careful rational analysis of the ideas presented in the story Plato tells. The characters in the dialogue conduct that analysis; Plato is never a character in his own dialogues. What is so powerful about this way of writing is that it leads us into the thinking process and requires us to examine the ideas and the arguments presented by the various characters. Socrates is an important character in many of Plato’s dialogues, but he is absent or has only a minor role in some of the most important ones (for example, Parmenides and Sophist). In Phaedo Socrates is a complex character, one that twists and turns as the overall plot unfolds. In spite of the obvious dramatic interest in his impending death, the other characters are no less important than Socrates for understanding the dialectical process that unfolds as the work develops.
We are first introduced to Phaedo and Echecrates. Who are they? Echecrates is a member of the Pythagorean community at Phlius. Phaedo is a rare visitor to this religious community, so his narrative is Plato’s poetic device for telling the story of Socrates’ death. It is extremely important that this dialogue takes place in a Pythagorean religious community, because the dialogue begins by presenting and analyzing the Orphic/Pythagorean way of thinking about the soul. Echecrates represents the kid of Pythagorean tradition that began to emerge a century before Plato’s birth. Pythagoras himself flourished around 530 B.C. His philosophy had two important but quite different aspects: (a) A mathematical/scientific component and (b) a religious component that was very much concerned with rite and ritual as practiced in the Orphic tradition. Orphism was a mystery religion extending at least to the 7th century B.C. One of its main doctrines was the purification of the soul as preparation for death and reincarnation. This tradition taught the soul (psyche) existed before our birth and that it will continue to exist after the death of the body. The body (soma) is a kind of tomb or prison; death is a form of escape from that prison. This form of Pythagoreanism promoted strong ethical beliefs that focused on avoiding bodily pleasures and, though ritual purification, preparing the soul for its future journey. Because the soul existed before birth, it once knew what it has now forgotten. To learn is to recollect what the soul once knew in its previous existence. Pythagoras first used the term “lover of wisdom” (philosopher). The lover of wisdom seeks to purify the soul through recollection of divine truth, which, for Pythagoras, is closely connected to the study mathematics and music — not as aesthetic phenomena but as a body of scientific knowledge.
There is another, quite different, Pythagorean tradition present in Phaedo. Simmias and Cebes, who are students of Philolaus, represent that tradition. Historically, Philolaus was contemporary with Socrates and represented a form of Pythagoreanism that had mostly dropped the religious aspect and was primarily interested in scientific/mathematical investigation. By the time of Philolaus the idea of the soul had changed. Instead of a separate and detachable entity, Philolaus and his students thought of the soul as a “harmony.” The idea of harmony has strong Pythagorean precedent (it was initially a kind of cosmic harmony exemplified in the “music of he spheres”). However, when the soul is considered to be a harmony of bodily parts it is hard to reconcile that view with the concept of a soul that precedes our birth and survives the death of our body.
Plato has set the stage for analyzing of the idea of soul in this dialogue. Other, quite different ideas of the soul are presented and examined in other dialogues such as Phaedrus, Republic, and Timaeus. In this dialogue two strains of Pythagorean thinking are examined, not because Plato is trying to promote one tradition or another, but because both traditions have shaped the consciousness of his students and, since some of their elements are contradictory, they require reflection and analysis. The ideas of the soul presented and examined in the Phaedo serve as a kind of cultural heritage similar to the beliefs about the soul that pervade our contemporary world, especially those derived from Christianity, Islam, and Hinduism. If we are to make rational sense out of those ideas, they must be analyzed and justified.
This background helps explain Socrates’ changing role in the dialogue. Simmias and Cebes, who learned what they know from Philolaus, seem to know little about the older Pythagorean tradition. So Plato uses Socrates to introduce and explain the Pythagorean and Orphic doctrines from the “old time religion.” Simmias and Cebes are confused, because some of what Socrates says sounds familiar, but some of it contradicts other teachings from Philolaus. Socrates’ primary role in the Phaedo is to lead the way as the overall dialectical process unfolds. After his destructive analysis of some of the ideas and arguments from Pythagoreanism, Socrates pauses to plead with Simmias and Cebes not to give up on reasoning itself just because some arguments fail. Above all we should be concerned not with Socrates but with the truth:
Socrates: Phaedo, if truth, certainty, and the power to know can be obtained, it would be too bad for people to become annoyed when what seems to be true turns out to be false and to blame dialectic rather than blaming themselves and their lack of ability. It would be a shame to blame and hate reasoning and thus lose the truth and never know what is.
Phaedo: Yes, Socrates, that would be unfortunate.
Socrates: Then we must never let into our mind the idea that there is no truth or that there are no sound arguments. It would be better to say that we are not yet sound and that we must risk everything to become sound and wise — you and the others for the sake of living your life, and I because I am about to die. Right now I am in danger of not being a lover of wisdom and — like uneducated people — only advocating my point of view. When such people argue, they do not care at all about the truth. They only try to convince those who are listening to believe what they believe; but I differ from them in that I am primarily interested in convincing myself and only incidentally concerned about convincing them. My friend, consider how much I gain by this approach — see how greedy I am. If what I say is true, then I benefit from believing it. But if I am nothing after death, then in the short time that remains I have at least avoided burdening my friends with lamentation and weeping. In that case my ignorance will soon come to an end and will do no harm. Simmias and Cebes, I return to your arguments in this state of mind. I urge you to give little attention to Socrates and a lot of thought to the truth. Agree with me if you think I am telling the truth, but if not, oppose my enthusiasm with all your might so that I can avoid deceiving both you and myself and, like a bee, leave my sting in you when I go (Plato’s Phaedo, GP 91, Agora Publications, Inc., 2005).
Plato’s overall project involves leading us through the process of examining various views of the soul and analyzing the arguments for and against those views. As is always the case with dialectical reasoning, where we wind up is quite different from where we start. So, I would suggest that Plato is not making mistakes in arguing for the personal immortality of Socrates, he is not overwhelmed by grief, nor is he favoring religion over philosophy. He is providing us with an opportunity to think through some popular views of human nature, all of which distinguish between body and soul. But I don’t think all of those ideas of soul lead to dualism. On the contrary, a powerful critique of dualism is one of the important contributions of Plato’s dialogues.
C. Mind
In addition to the ideas of the soul (psyche) and the body (soma), Socrates in the Phaedo also introduces the idea of mind (nous). He begins with the way the 5th century B.C. philosopher Anaxagoras writes about that concept and then develops some ideas of his own.
By the time the Phaedo is finished, Plato has both expanded how we might think about human nature, and he has given us an equally helpful way to think about nature itself — the overall cosmos or universe in which we exist.
In my next podcast I will discuss both soul and mind as those ideas evolve in the Phaedo. And I will pay special attention to what Plato retains from Pythagorean philosophy and how he transcends it to develop a way of thinking about human nature that is still attractive in the 21st century.
