Sophists: Does Reality Shift from Person to Person?
History of Philosophy 5
In 431 BC, following their triumph over the Persians, Greece experienced the emergence of a vibrant and radical democracy, particularly in Athens. This new political landscape ushered in a direct participatory democracy, granting citizens the right to represent themselves in popular assemblies. However, this democratic fervor demanded more than mere presence; it required an educated populace proficient in the art of rhetoric. In Athens, where citizens had the right to defend themselves in court and sway decisions in popular assemblies, mastery of rhetoric became paramount. Whether advocating for their viewpoints in crucial state matters or defending themselves against accusations, citizens relied on rhetoric to navigate the intricacies of public discourse and legal proceedings. This emphasis on rhetoric not only shaped political dialogue but also influenced individual rights and responsibilities, as exemplified by figures like Socrates, who famously utilized rhetoric in his defense.
The emergence of this new rhetoric, particularly within the context of Athenian democracy, holds significant parallels with modern lawyering. It revolves around the art of persuasion, aiming to sway the other party to one’s viewpoint. While today we often associate rhetoric with effective voice and diction, in ancient Athens, its primary goal was convincing others, much like modern lawyering, to embrace one’s argument. Understanding this historical context is crucial because, as always, societal structures directly shape the philosophy, science, and art of an era. Society forms the foundation upon which these intellectual pursuits are built. Throughout history, societal life has consistently been one of the most influential factors in shaping philosophical discourse. Consider Athens, with its democratic structure, against the backdrop of a constantly evolving cultural tradition. This dynamic environment underscores the ongoing quest for truth, not just in terms of individual consciousness seeking understanding, but also in questioning the very nature of truth itself.
The inquiry into the existence of truth and our capacity to apprehend it leads us to question the very nature of knowledge and its attainability by the human mind. This shift marks a transition from ontological concerns about the fundamental substance of existence to epistemological inquiries about the nature of knowledge itself. In the context of a society grappling with the uncertainties of knowledge and truth, particularly amidst the backdrop of widespread radical democracy, a new philosophical perspective emerges — the Sophists. The term ‘sophist’ carries dual connotations, encompassing both wisdom in general and a specific group of educators who rose to prominence in fifth-century Athens. These individuals, akin to paid instructors or consultants, imparted practical knowledge to the offspring of affluent families, believing such teachings to be acquirable and applicable in everyday life.
The Sophists traversed various cities, offering philosophy education in exchange for payment. From a contemporary standpoint, the idea of charging for philosophy lessons might not raise eyebrows, but in their era, they faced severe censure. This stemmed from conservative circles’ perception that tasks undertaken for financial gain paralleled the labor of slaves, and that craftsmen who monetized their skills occupied a lower societal rung. Within a more aristocratic framework, the Sophists’ commercialization of knowledge was deemed disgraceful and condemned. Plato, particularly in his dialogues ‘Protagoras’ and ‘Gorgias,’ vehemently critiques these Sophists. Notably, Plato himself hailed from a wealthy background and had no financial need, rendering his reproach of the Sophists for peddling wisdom and philosophy for profit somewhat conceited.
The Sophists asserted that due to the diversity of philosophical viewpoints, it is impossible for philosophy to arrive at a singular, absolute truth. Each philosopher, they argued, operates from their own foundational principles, which serve to justify their teachings. Consequently, the Sophists adopted a skeptical stance toward the theory of knowledge, marking a departure from previous philosophical traditions. This critical approach led some to regard the Sophists as emblematic of an ancient enlightenment period, akin to the Enlightenment of the 18th century. Notably, figures like Kant questioned established norms in religion, morality, politics, and society, probing the boundaries of human understanding. Thus, the Sophists’ assertion that “man is the measure of all things” echoes the Enlightenment’s emphasis on human agency and the exploration of knowledge and belief.
The most renowned figure among the Sophists, Protagoras, famously stated, “Concerning the gods, I have no means of knowing whether they exist or not, nor of what sort they may be, because of the obscurity of the subject, and the brevity of human life.” Let’s delve into his teachings from Protagoras’s perspective. Fundamentally, Protagoras posited that all knowledge is acquired through our senses. However, he cautioned that our senses are prone to deception. Consider the wind: it may feel refreshing to me, signifying warmth, while simultaneously feeling chilling to my mother, causing discomfort. In this scenario, is the wind hot or cold? Similarly, perceptions of weather vary; what one person experiences as intense heat, another may perceive as coolness. Therefore, according to Protagoras and the Sophists, our senses are inherently subjective, relative, and subject to change. If our sensory experiences lack universal validity and consistency, can we truly attain knowledge? Protagoras would argue no. He posited that individual perception determines reality; thus, the wind is neither inherently hot nor cold but instead varies based on each person’s subjective experience and relationship with it.
The issue at hand delves into the notion that everything is subject to our perception, and that all things acquire new meanings based on our momentary experiences with them. However, what’s particularly intriguing and noteworthy here is a specific point: the Sophists do not distinguish between appearance and reality. Typically, we refer to this variability, relativity, or subjectivity as appearance, phenomenon, or the unreal and misleading aspect of something. We often assume there exists a reality beyond mere appearance, a notion upheld by idealists and traced back to Plato. According to the Sophists, however, we lack sufficient grounds to differentiate between appearance and reality. What underpins and justifies this distinction we commonly make?
How do we discern that things are not as they seem to our sensory organs? If there truly is no distinction between appearance and reality, then what we perceive through our sensory organs constitutes reality itself. If our sensory perceptions and their appearances are constantly in flux, then there is, in that case, no singular reality. Consider this as a horizon of possibility within the web of relationships we establish with an object. Though each relationship may hold different value within this horizon, none of them can claim to be more correct or real than the others. Thus, according to the Sophists, determining truth becomes an impossible task.
If there is no absolute or singular reality, and if each individual experiences their own reality, this could pose social challenges. However, in Athens, where a radical democracy prevailed, individuals were required to defend and persuade others to their own viewpoints. The Sophists, pragmatically, concluded that while there may be no absolute truth or right or wrong, there are ideas that are more correct or preferable. Thus, their aim was not to seek truth but practical and useful knowledge. Consequently, their social principles were based on consensus rather than divine truth.
From Protagoras’s perspective, his focus lies less on the existence of God and more on the societal implications of such existence. This resonates with many personal conversations where individuals prioritize the practical benefits of belief in God over philosophical debates about God’s nature or existence. They argue that religious beliefs help deter people from sinning out of fear of divine punishment, thus contributing to social order. This perspective aligns closely with Protagoras’s stance, suggesting that whether God exists is not crucial; what matters is the positive impact belief in God has on social life.
Transitioning to another prominent Sophist, Gorgias, we encounter a similar philosophical vein, albeit with a distinctive saying that encapsulates his skepticism: “There is nothing. Even if there were, we couldn’t know it. And even if we knew it, we couldn’t convey it to others.” Gorgias extends Protagoras’s ideas by asserting that perception, our primary means of knowledge according to Protagoras, is inherently deceptive and insufficient in revealing a singular truth. Moreover, Gorgias challenges the reliability of reason, suggesting that even through intelligent reasoning, we can conceive of nonexistent things. Thus, Gorgias posits that reason is an unreliable source for discerning truth, further complicating our understanding of reality. However, beyond the classical philosophical context, let’s delve into the core issue that Gorgias highlights: the problem of conveyance.
Gorgias’s statement “Nothing exists, and even if it did, it wouldn’t be knowable, and even if it were knowable, it wouldn’t be communicable” draws attention to the fundamental challenge of conveying knowledge and understanding. Implicit in this statement is the issue of ensuring shared understanding between individuals. When we communicate what we know, how can we be certain that the recipient perceives, interprets, and understands it in the same way?
This question becomes particularly pertinent when considering the subjective nature of human experience. Do we all perceive objects and colors identically? While neuroscience provides insights into sensory perception, the question of interpretation remains complex. Furthermore, even if we share similar sensory experiences, do we interpret events and experiences uniformly? It’s evident that individuals may have diverse emotional responses and interpretations to the same event, evoking a range of feelings and reactions.
Looking at a scenery illustrates the subjectivity of perception. Even when three individuals behold the same vista, their interpretations diverge, unveiling the subjective nature of our observations. Consider the renowned painting “Luncheon on the Grass” by artists such as Manet, Cézanne, and Picasso. Each masterfully captures the same theme in their distinct style, resulting in entirely different interpretations. It shows that what we call seeing isn’t reducible to physiological processes; there’s a difference between looking and seeing. Sometimes, we look at the same thing but don’t see the same thing. This applies not only to vision but also to hearing or understanding, as Gorgias suggests. There’s not always a consistent meaning conveyed by something subjective. It’s impossible to know how the person in front of me will perceive what I convey, or if they’ll perceive it the same way as me. Gorgias points out a significant problem in communication. Communication aims to bridge this gap, but does it truly overcome it?
