Protagoras

Dialogue on the nature of thought

I have read this dialogue twice already, and now as I write, I will read it once more.

It seems very alive to me, and its key idea really captivates me.

So Hippocrates, a young and eager youth thirsty for knowledge, comes to Socrates and invites him to go to Protagoras. The city is buzzing about this prominent sophist, where all the advanced people of Athens learn from him. They drink from Protagoras, as if from a sacred grail, the wisdom known as sophistry. Some people are overwhelmed, while others are able to digest it. That’s why Hippocrates wants to learn from Protagoras this wonderful art, and takes Socrates with him so that he can also join in on the wisdom.

Socrates, however, is a bit skeptical, “aren’t you ashamed,” he says, “to become a sophist in front of the Greeks, I swear by the gods?” or “does it not sometimes remind you, Hippocrates, of a sophist who is a merchant or a grocer who sells food to nourish the soul?” Nevertheless, he sets off with the young man.

He arrives at Killias’ place, where Protagoras is staying, and already half of Athens is walking around the garden listening to every word Protagoras says. Well, once Socrates arrived, they all decided to settle down.

The dialogue began with doubt. Socrates asks Protagoras if one person can learn from another to become a skilled and good citizen. He replies, “why not?” Here he, Protagoras, teaches this and even earns a living from it.

And here’s where Socrates’ doubt comes in. That teaching a carpenter to be a better carpenter can be done better by a carpenter himself than by a sophist. Just as teaching a shoemaker to be a shoemaker can only be done by a shoemaker and not by a sophist. Well, teaching someone to be a just citizen can be done by the People’s Assembly, but only if the person himself desires it. And how can one instill this desire in a person to strive for an ideal? Protagoras says it’s easy, through communication with wiser people. But Socrates doesn’t rush. He understands that sometimes the feeling of being good actually generates injustice, and vice versa. That’s why it’s difficult for him to follow the path that Protagoras is paving for him, as if only the desire to learn, the popularity of the teacher, and the immutable truths he enunciates are capable of forming the ideal citizen.

Then Protagoras tells the myth of Prometheus and speaks about the stereotype that still exists in Athena, that professional craftsmen know more about their craft and have more right to a voice in their sphere than someone from outside who may possess many more virtues and see the situation from the right angle. Furthermore, Protagoras easily answers the question of why a virtuous father may have unvirtuous sons. Simply put, he shared his virtue, but it was not enough for the new person, and if this father had hired a teacher-sophist, this extra mile would have made the young man complete. The sophist gave a long speech.

Then a crazy carousel of categories begins: virtue, courage, prudence, wisdom, piety, justice, and their difference and connection. Here Protagoras finds it difficult because he cannot give magnificent speeches — Socrates demands that he speak briefly and to the point. In this conversation, it turns out that all these virtues are the same and good, some have the same opposite, some seem to nullify each other in combination, and some can even serve evil.

At this point, Protagoras wanted to take a timeout, but his friends Prodicus, Hippie, and Alkiviad somehow reconciled the speakers. The second round began quite poetically. Protagoras immediately found a wonderful excuse for his previous mistakes and took Pittacus’s words about how “it is really difficult for a person to become good, so that both hands, feet, and mind are perfect, so that everything about them is flawless, and it is difficult to be a good person.”

However, becoming and being are different concepts, so Protagoras did not succeed here, although he was very close to grasping the contradiction.

There is also talk of war in this dialogue, namely about people who must go there. Some do it bravely, while others are afraid. Then Socrates turns everything into the fact that essentially there is no difference between them because “understanding what is frightening and what is not frightening is the opposite of not knowing any of this.”

The dialogue ended without even beginning, but there’s a feeling that Hippocrates didn’t end up studying under Protagoras after all.