Reflections on the Sophist

Including an Examination of the Megista Gene

The Sophist is a Platonic dialogue between a “visitor” from Elea and a young man named Theaetetus (the same one from the dialogue bearing his name) in the presence of several others, including the mathematician Theodorus. The dialogue begins with a plan to discuss three persons: the sophist, the statesman, and the philosopher, with an account of what each one is. The first one is the sophist, and the Eleatic visitor adopts a method of division wherein each type of thing is divided into successively more specific types until a particular species is fully set off against all the other types. This method of division is likened to hunting. Each division results in a definition that is the sum of all the various individuating characteristics of that type.

After several divisions and definitions of the sophist, the Eleatic visitor and Theaetetus run into an objection on the part of the (hypothetically present) sophist involving appearance, false belief, false speech, and that which is not. This is resolved in two steps. The first and more important step involves a demonstration that that which is not is an intelligible idea and is admissible in discussion. The second and must briefer step involves a demonstration that that which is not “blends” with speech and belief to create falsity. The dialogue then concludes with a final definition of the sophist.

In this essay, I want to summarize the main ideas of the dialogue. I will then offer my own analysis.

The Possibility of Appearances, False Belief, and False Speech

The interesting part of the dialogue really gets started when the interlocutors consider the sophist as a skilled debater. At what? At everything. Obviously, a man can’t know everything, so there must be one thing the sophist can do that makes him appear to know everything (232b-233e). This leads them to describe the sophist as a kind of imitator, a painter with words, and a magician (233e-235b). The sophist turns out to be a kind of copy-maker making copies of everything such that he appears to know them. Copy-making either represents the thing as it is (likeness-making) or not as it is (appearance-making)(235d-236e). But the idea of appearing, “this seeming but not being, and this saying things but not true things” presents a difficulty. The ideas of falsity and appearance rely on some notion of that which is not (237a-b). And that which is not is a completely unthinkable combination of words, at least so it appears (pun intended).

It isn’t too hard to understand why. One cannot think of that which is not without assigning at least some intelligible notion to it. To better understand, I think it is reasonable to undestand that which is not as that which is not anything. But that which is not anything is not even singular or plural. But tt least some number is assigned in the very notion of “that which” or “those which” (237d-238d). Indeed, even a refutation of that which is not would require us to utter it and to pretend that it stands for something comprehensible (238d-e). An absolute negation of everything would not leave even unity or numerical plurality, but the placement of this negation into the relative phrase “that which” automatically implies such a thing. It’s a contradiction in terms.

The fact that that which is not is an invalid combination of words (i.e., incomprehensible to the mind and meaningless) makes it difficult for us to pin down the notions of appearances and copies. A copy, or that which is like (e.g. a drawing or an image in a mirror) is in a way, but its is seems untrue (240a-c). The visitor puts it this way, “it’s not really what is, but it really is what we call a likeness.” Theaetetus suggests that “that which is not is woven together with that which is in some way like that — it’s quite bizarre.” This idea of the “weaving together” is of paramount importance to the further discussions of the dialogue. For now though, it seems that we cannot account for appearances and copies because we are barred from employing the term that which is not.

The difficulty of appearances and that which is not obtains to a similar degree in the idea of false belief, which is taken to be “believing those which are not,” or “believing that those which in no way are in a way are” (240d-e). A similar problem presents itself for false speaking (241a).

To conclude, that which is not is outside the sphere of comprehensibility. For this reason, it is inadmissible in the explanation of anything, including appearance, false belief, and false speech, all of which seem to require us to say that there is a mixture of that which is and that which is not. This is a kind of shadowy darkness into which the sophist is hiding (in the running metaphor of philosophical division as a kind of hunting). (See 260d for a good recap of this problem.)

Being, Rest, and Change

The answer to this objection requires us to inquire into the meaning of is and to reveal that it is not any easier to give an account of than is not (246a). The visitor recounts several views about the principles of the world and considers whether being is something alongside these principles or whether it is the same as these principles (242d-244b).

He then zeroes in on those who say that everything is one (who seem to be the Parmenidean monists)(244b-246). This leads to several difficulties. If all being is one, then can that statement make sense if being and one are in no way distinct and in no way two (244c)? Second, to say that all is one would mean that there is no distinction between the word one and that which it signifies (244d). Thirdly, saying that the whole is one presents difficulties for those who say that the whole is a well-formed sphere, as spheres have parts (244e-245b). The conclusion of this section is that these and many other issues and confusions arise if we posit that being is one or even two.

The visitor then goes on to discuss other groups (246aff). These groups disagree about the existence of nonbodily things. The first group equate being and body (246b). Opposed to these are a group who place being in “certain nonbodily forms that can be thought about (246b-c).” Now, those who place being in both the bodily and nonbodily must decide what it is that both of them share that is called being (247d-e). The suggestion is that it is the capacity for action and passion (247e), but this leads to the following difficulty.

If there is knowing and being known among souls and forms, then this would be a kind of action and passion between them, which implies change, which contradicts the definition of being as changeless form (248a-e). (I do wonder whether the doctrine of recollection may be a good remedy to this problem, as it is a way of saying that there is no real change when a soul recollects a form that it already knows. But that is not where the Eleatic goes with it. He rather continues this train of thought.) Unless we want to say being is completely ignorance, lifeless, soulless, and at rest, then we must posit that “both that which changes and also change have to be admitted as being” (248e-249b). On the other hand, if nothing is at rest, then the same result follows, namely that knowledge is not possible (presumably because knowledge, as opposed to opinion, is of what is)(249b). The conclusion of all this is that the philosopher, someone who wants to uphold the possibility of knowledge, must say that both the unchanging and that which changes have a share in being (249d), with the result that there are three fundamental things: being, rest, and change (250a-d).

The Interweaving of Forms; The Expertise of the Philosopher

The preceding argument is a good start to the problem of being, but it is still a far cry from clarifying the notion of that which is not. The conversation now turns to the question of the blending of forms.

We often call a thing by many names. We say that Zaid is a man, intelligent, married, and tall. But a certain word-game comes about when we take the copula to mean strict identity of subject and predicate, in which case the only thing that can be predicated of Zaid is Zaid (251a-c). This is more than just a word game; it is tantamount to adopting the position that nothing blends together, the consequence of which is that the world loses all intelligibility and is utterly destroyed (251e-252b). An equally problematic position would be to allow the association and blending of all kinds, as this would allow for the blending of contraries (252d). The third and correct position lies in the middle: some kinds blend; others do not (252e). The task of the philosopher is to know which kinds do and do not blend with each other.

So if someone’s going to show us correctly which kinds harmonize with which and which kinds exclude each other, doesn’t he have to have some kind of knowledge as he proceeds through the discussion? And in addition doesn’t he have to know whether there are any kinds that run through all of them and link them together to make them capable of blending, and also, when there are divisions, whether certain kinds running through wholes are always the cause of the division (253b-c)?

He goes on

[The philosopher will] be capable of adequately discriminating a single form spread out all through a lot of other things, each of which stands separate from the others. In addition he can discriminate forms that are different from each other but are included within a single form that’s outside of them, or a single form that’s connected as a unit throughout many wholes, or many forms that are completely separate from others. That’s what it is to know how to discriminate by kinds how things can associate and how they can’t (253d).

This is the outcome of the method of division outlined earlier. The division articulates how a single kind is divided, by what it is divided, and what remains shared between the divided kinds. This theory of the interweaving of forms sets the stage for the next discussion, which attempts to consider two forms, or ideas, that run through and pervade all of the other kinds.

The Same and the Different

The visitor adds the same and the different as forms by showing that neither of them is either change, rest, or being (254e-255a).

Now, the different is always different “from another.” And this “other” can be any of the other kinds. In this way, the different pervades all of them (255d-e). Now, consider the four kinds that are not being: each is different from being; and “the nature of the different makes each of them not be, by making it different from that which is (256e).” Conversely, that which is is not “in as many applications as there are of the others” (257a). So, “it seems that when we say that which is not, we don’t say something contrary to that which is, but only something different from it” (257b).

The different is the principle of negation, “not” and “non-.” It does not signify a contrary; it merely signifies a different and an other (257c). When set up against that which is, the different “does not signify something contrary to that which is but only something different from it,” as when “not beautiful” does not necessarily signify “ugly” (258b). The conclusion of this is that “that which is not definitely is something that has its own nature,” and

we’ve not only shown that those which are not are. We’ve also caused what turns out to be the form of that which is not to appear. Since we showed that the nature of the different is, chopped up among all beings in relation to each other, we dared to say that that which is not really is just this, namely, each part of the nature of the different that’s set over against that which is” (258e).

Again, it is not the contrary of that which is; the visitor still rejects that notion completely (259a). Rather, it is the different from, the other than, and the non- of that which is.

The Blending of That Which is Not with Speech and Belief

The visitor then returns to the topic of the blending and weaving of forms, now in the context of speech. It is the blending of forms that makes speech possible (259e). And it is speech that makes philosophy possible (260a-b). Conversely, no blending, no speech, no philosophy.

Now that we have admitted that which is not into the sphere of comprehensibility, we are ready to take the second step to solving the problem of appearances, false belief, and false speech. That second step involves showing that that which is not blends with speech.

In order to determine this, the visitor distinguishes between names and verbs, and demonstrates that speech obtains only in the combination between them (261d-262e). Speech, like kinds, involves an interweaving of things (262d). Falsity in speech occurs when speech “says things different from those that are” (263b). The word “different” is carrying the weight now of that which is not. So, both truth and falsity occur in speech. Similarly, they occur in thought, which is a kind of internal speech the conclusion of which is belief (263e-264b).

After this, the visitor concludes his division of the sophist. He is a kind of copy-maker who mimics with his person things that he believes but doesn’t know, sincerely, in short speeches in private conversation (267a-268d).

Conclusion

In conclusion of this rather lengthy summary, the Eleatic visitor in the Sophist endeavors to explain the sophist as an appearance-maker by explaining the concepts of that which is, change, rest, the same and the different. The most important aspects of this investigation involve the impossibility of philosophy if the blending of forms is denied, the legitimacy of negation as what is different from that which is, the discovery of kinds that pervade everything, and the use of the method of division to arrive at a definition of a thing.

Analysis

I’ll now turn to a few of my own reflections on the dialogue, beginning with some discussions that I think are more accessible.

Mathematics

Two members of the gathering, Theodorus and Theaetetus, are mathematicians. I think there is an obvious parallel between mathematics and the topic of the dialogue, for both of them consider their object in isolation from matter. The interlocutors are discussing being, change, rest, etc. as if they were not in reference to any particular tangible thing or even in reference to each other.

This abstracted mode of reasoning comes through clearly in the fact that when the visitor says that each of the five kinds is different from the other, it is “not because of its own nature but because of sharing in the type of the different” (255e). In other words, change is different from rest not because of its own nature (qua change) but rather because of its sharing in the different. In other words, we are considering each of these kinds after having stripped them of all superfluous, shared ideas. In other words, we must consider the forms in their unmixed state. The isolation of a concept from matter is similar to the way mathematicians consider their object of study, namely quantity, in isolation from everything else.

Another way this comes out in the dialogue is that the interlocutors position themselves in distinction to those who “drag everything down to earth from the heavenly region of the invisible, actually clutching rocks and trees with their hands” (246a-b). For the friends of the forms, things can be considered in isolation from matter. Yet they go a step further, considering even forms in isolation from each other as we have seen.

Confusion

One of the most important motifs in the dialogue is confusion. The interlocutors begin experiencing confusion when searching for the definition of the sophist. He is difficult to pin down. When they arrive at no less than six definitions of him, they become confused (231c). They reach another state of confusion about which which is not (237e, 238c), and later again about that which is (245e, 248d).

Confusion is a very important cause of intellectual motion, perhaps the most important. The drive to extricate oneself from confusion and to know the reality of things is the fuel of the philosopher.

What is a Philosopher?

Speaking of philosophers, this dialogue has a great explanation of what the philosopher is. At the very beginning of the dialogue, the young Socrates (not the teacher of Plato but a younger man sharing his name) suggests that the guest of Theodorus from Elea is a god. In response, Theodorus says he is divine and that he calls all philosophers that (216c). The philosopher, Socrates says, takes on several guises, sometimes appearing as statesmen, sometimes as sophists, sometimes as madmen (216d).

The more technical description of the philosopher, however, comes later in the dialogue. The philosopher is someone who exercises the method of division to know how the different kinds blend together. I won’t bother repeating the description from 253b-d.

The Method of Division

The method of division is a kind of hunting for ideas that the philosopher is an expert in. One begins with a very broad and general idea then divides it step-by-step to isolate a particular species of that idea. Each level of the division is more specific than the last and usually has a special name. (Certain concepts Plato mentions in the dialogue do not have names.) The process can also be considered a stripping away of everything that is held in common between what is and what is not the definiendum (264e). (By this I understand that one strips away both what is not the definiendum as well as what is not specific to the definiendum.) The final result of the division is a definition of the term that isolates it completely from every other type.

An implied assumption that seems to run through the dialogue is that “sophist” must be a name for one thing. More generally, one name should refer to one thing (232a). It seems that Plato is hesitant to simply say, “It’s a homonym, and it has seven or so definitions,” and be done with it. (That’s something I often do in discussions.) It is his search for the unifying factor behind a given term that motivates him to continue his search even after having found several definitions of the term.

The search for the common factor requires another method other than the method of division. One might call it the “unification method.” You can think of it as the opposite of division. In this case, one might ask, “what is it that all the definitions of the sophist share?” If we know what they share, then that unifying thing is what truly defines the sophist, and we can discard the superfluous details that distinguished between the multiple definitions. The visitor doesn’t seem to employ this for the sophist, but he does use it to explain copy-making, which seems very multifarious but is just one thing, as the presence of the one name implies (240a).

There is a third method that the visitor uses. In this method, we consider whether or not a thing is the same as or different from two others by asking whether or not the two others both appear with the first. If the first is shared between the second and the third, then it cannot be either of them. This is what Plato does with that which is, change, and rest (250a-b). Because both change and rest blend with that which is, that which is must be something other than change and rest.

The Megista Gene

Alright, with those more basic discussions out of the way, I want to turn my attention to the so called megista gene. There are two questions that remain for me at this time.

The first involves articulating the relationship between appearances and that which is not. For an appearance isn’t nothing absolutely. A painting of a dog really is a painting, but it’s not a dog. We don’t say that the painting of the dog is absolutely nothing. However, it seems to me that the Parmenidean objection to the phrase that which is not obtains only for that which is not anything, as I pointed out before. I’m not sure what to make of this.

The second problem is whether or not that which is pervades all of the forms the way that the different does. On the one hand, the different both partakes in that which is, and so is. And at the same time when set up against that which is is is the definition of that which is not. So it would seem that that which is not is, which is precisely what he set out to show. On the other hand, how can it pervade all of them when it does not pervade that which is not. They are opposites! I almost feel as though we are using that which is in two ways.

I think the solution to both these problems, both the on about the meaning of that which is not and whether that which is pervades all the forms can be solved in the following manner. We say that a thing is without further qualification, by which we mean that it exists. And we also say that a thing is such-and-such. The first is non-copulative, the second is copulative. When we say that which is do we mean is in the first sense or in the second? It may be that the Greek is clear in this regard, but the English certainly isn’t. Well, when we negated that which is and got that which is not, we took it to mean that which is not anything. Further, we said that it is incomprehensible because it contains some numerical value at least. In other words, the contradiction lay in the predication of something after the is rather than in taking it to mean exists.

Another important aspect of the solution lies in a better articulation of that which is not. We said that it is the different from that which is. In other words, the different is the principle of negation. Does that mean that the same is the principle of the copula? (The relationship between the megista gene and grammar is beginning to take shape.) I don’t think that the same is the principle of the copula. It seems rather to be the principle of identity, a thing’s being itself. Each of the five kinds is said to be the same as itself (254e). In other words, the same and the different are the principles of selfness and otherness. That which is and that which is not are the principles of combination (blending) and separation. (This is more accurate than saying that the different generally is responsible for negation/separation.)

Let’s see if this has solved anything, starting with the problem of appearances and false beliefs. False belief arises because a person combines things that are in actuality separated or vice versa. In other words, he believes that which is about that which is not or vice versa, taking into account that these are the principle of the copula (the principle of blending) and its negation. The following problem remains: does the Parmenidean objection about that which is not make any more sense? I’m not sure that it does. The objection involves a prohibition on the phrase that which is not because it is impossible to think of that which is not anything. It doesn’t seem we’ve gotten closer to solving this one; is it possible that this distinction is what Plato wants to make clear? I think it is a good response to the Parmenides, but I don’t recall him using this reasoning.

Before I get to the second problem, a new difficulty just arose in my mind. If the principle of negation is that which is not, and if that which is not is that part of the different that is set up against that which is, then the principle of negation would be any and all things different from that which is. Yet change and rest are different from that which is, but they are obviously not the principles of negation. I have two possible solutions to this. The first involves admitting that which is not as a sixth form alongside the existing five. This would clear things up a lot I think, but there may arise the problem that it is treating that which is not as the contrary of that which is (259a). Another solution is to rearrange the pairs a bit. Suppose that the different forms a pair with that which is rather than the same. Now, the same is at the top. That which is and the different are principles governing the blending of forms. I’m not as satisfied with this solution, but the placement of the same at the top of the five is definitely something to consider.

Now, let’s see about the second problem. Does that which is pervade all of the forms? First, the same and the different pervade all of the forms because each of the forms is the same as itself and different from the others. But if it is the same as itself, then it is, again in the sense that something can be predicated of it. So, if predicating a thing of itself counts, then that which is is all pervasive. If, on the other hand, predicating a thing of itself doesn’t count as that which is, then only those forms that blend will have that which is. The question then becomes whether every form blends or not. Thankfully, I don’t think I’ll have to answer that question because I think the first alternative is correct. At 258c, that which is not is said to have “its own nature” that allows it to be. This I take as evidence that that which is pervades all the forms because each of them really has its own peculiar nature. In other words, having its own nature is a sign that a thing is, which is exactly what one would expect. Note also that this line of reasoning also seems to lend support to the admission of that which is not as a sixth principle.

Conclusion

In conclusion, I would articulate the megista gene in the following way: The same is the principle of selfness/identity and is all pervading. The different is the principle of otherness and is also all pervading. That which is is the principle of the copula, of blending, combination, and affirmation. If it is taken in the broad sense, allowing for predicating a thing of itself, then it is all pervading. I hold this to be the correct view. (If it is restricted to a blending of differents, then I’m not sure if it is all pervading.) That which is different than that which is is that which is not, and it is the principle of separation and negation. Lastly, change and rest are not all pervading, and they seem to concern themselves with movements from that which is to that which is not, in the sense of moving from contraries to contraries.

Now, it is worth considering the effect of Plato’s copulative notion of is (if I am right about it of course). For it would seem that Plato’s notion of that which is is not about existence as a predicate but rather anything as a predicate. In other words, it is not a principle of existence, which means that there is no principle of existence per se among the megista gene. It’s not about a thing’s existing; it’s about a thing’s having its own nature. Now, there is an abundance of evidence from the text to suggest that Plato does indeed have some notion of being as existence, as when he recounts the views of other philosophers about being (242c-246e). Still, I think that those who place being in the forms would be comfortable with the idea that a thing’s being itself, having its own nature, and being intelligibly set off against an other suffices to make a thing have being, especially in the sense of being itself, but also in the sense of being absolutely.

Conclusion

In this essay, I summarized the main ideas of the Sophist. I then spend a considerable amount of time analyzing the ideas of the dialogue, culminating in a thorough examination of the megista gene.

The ideas of this dialogue could hardly be more important because they touch upon the possibility of philosophy, the intelligibility of the world, the highest genera, the meaning of the copula, and the blending of forms.

What excites me about the dialogue is that one of its central claims must convince even a nominalist (perhaps even of the stronger variety), and even a materialist. If we have knowledge of anything in the sense of affirming a predicate of a subject (when those two terms are not identical) in such a way that that affirmation corresponds to reality, then there must be a blending of forms in reality. And if that is the case, then the grammatical structure of our language, most importantly the idea of predication, corresponds to the blending of forms in reality.

Appendix

• I think that a tacit assumption the visitor makes is that knowledge of the world involves affirmation, and that negation is not really knowledge. This becomes clear when we consider how he is thinking of the weaving of words and the weaving of intelligibility in the world. He says that one could not speak if nothing blended, but that does not seem entirely true. Rather, if nothing blended, then one could only utter affirmations where the subject and predicate are the same. All other speech would be negation. Yet this doesn’t count. Why? Because the visitor thinks of speech and knowledge as involving affirmation wherein the subject and predicate are different.
• The sixth definition of the Sophist resembles Socrates a great deal: someone who discriminates things concerning the soul, teaching, educating, and refuting the empty belief in one’s own wisdom (226b-231b). This definition is disputed (231a, e).
• The most interesting passage of the dialogue is a tangent. Why do Plato’s most important ideas sometimes come in the form of a tangent? Consider Republic Books V-VII. Perhaps the transitions between the initial topic and the tangent somehow marks an ascension in the level of the conversation. This seems particularly true of the Sophist.
• This dialogue seems more polemical than the other dialogues. There are various groups at odds with one another, a battle of gods and giants (246a). Those who drag everything down from heaven to earth are described as harsh people (246c-d). “We need to use every argument we can to fight against anyone who does away with knowledge, understanding, and intelligence but at the same time asserts anything at all about anything” (249c).
• The philosopher and the sophist are both difficult to understand; the sophist because he is in darkness; the philosopher because he is in light (254a-b).
• There is a beautiful comparison between intelligent design and naturalism at 265b-266c.