Theaetetus

SO. for each alone by itself can only be named, and no qualification can be added, neither that it is nor that it is not, for that would at once be adding to it existence or non-existence, whereas we must add nothing to it, if we are to speak of that itself alone. Indeed, not even itself or that or each or alone or this or anything else of the sort, of which there are many, must be added; for these are prevalent terms which are added to all things indiscriminately and are different from the things to which they are added; but if it were possible to explain an element, and it admitted of a rational explanation of its own, it would have to be explained apart from everything else. But in fact none of the primal elements can be expressed by reason; they can only be named, for they have only a name; but the things composed of these are themselves complex, and so their names are complex and form a rational explanation; for the combination of names is the essence of reasoning. Thus the elements are not objects of reason or of knowledge, but only of perception, whereas the combinations of them are objects of knowledge and expression and true opinion. When therefore a man acquires without reasoning the true opinion about anything, his mind has the truth about it, but has no knowledge; for he who cannot give and receive a rational explanation of a thing is without knowledge of it; but when he has acquired also a rational explanation he may possibly have become all that I have said and may now be perfect in knowledge. Is that the version of the dream you have heard, or is it different?

THEAET. That was it exactly.

SOC. Are you satisfied, then, and do you state it in this way, that true opinion accompanied by reason is knowledge?

THEAET. Precisely.

SOC. Can it be, Theaetetus, that we now, in this casual manner, have found out on this day what many wise men have long been seeking and have grown grey in the search?

THEAET. I, at any rate, Socrates, think our present statement is good.

SOC. Probably this particular statement is so; for what knowledge could there still be apart from reason and right opinion? One point, however, in what has been said is unsatisfactory to me.

THEAET. What point?

SOC. Just that which seems to be the cleverest; the assertion that the elements are unknowable and the class of combinations is knowable.

THEAET. Is that not right?

SOC. We are sure to find out, for we have as hostages the examples which he who said all this used in his argument.

THEAET. What examples?

SOC. The elements in writing, the letters of the alphabet, and their combinations, the syllables [*](Στοιχεῖον and συλλαβή originally general terms for element and combination, became the common words for letter and syllable.); or do you think the author of the statements we are discussing had something else in view?

THEAET. No; those are what he had in view.

SOC. Let us, then, take them up and examine them, or rather, let us examine ourselves and see whether it was in accordance with this theory, or not, that we learned letters. First then, the syllables have a rational explanation, but the letters have not?

THEAET. I suppose so.

SOC. I think so, too, decidedly. Now if anyone should ask about the first syllable of Socrates; Theaetetus, tell me, what is SO? What would you reply?

THEAET. I should say S and O.

SOC. This, then, is your explanation of the syllable?

THEAET. Yes.

SOC. Come now, in the same manner give me the explanation of the S.

THEAET. How can one give any elements of an element? For really, Socrates, the S is a voiceless letter, [*](The distinction here made is that which we make between vowels and consonants. The seven Greek vowels are α, ε, η, ι, ο, υ, ω called φωνήεντα.) a mere noise, as of the tongue hissing; B again has neither voice nor noise, nor have most of the other letters; and so it is quite right to say that they have no explanation, seeing that the most distinct of them, the seven vowels, have only voice, but no explanation whatsoever.

SOC. In this point, then, my friend, it would seem that we have reached a right conclusion about knowledge.

THEAET. I think we have.

SOC. But have we been right in laying down the principle that whereas the letter is unknowable, yet the syllable is knowable?

THEAET. Probably.

SOC. Well then, shall we say that the syllable is the two letters, or, if there be more than two, all of them, or is it a single concept that has arisen from their combination?

THEAET. I think we mean all the letters it contains.

SOC. Now take the case of two, S and O. The two together are the first syllable of my name. He who knows it knows the two letters, does he not?

THEAET. Of course.

SOC. He knows, that is, the S and the O.

THEAET. Yes.

SOC. How is that? He is ignorant of each, and knowing neither of them he knows them both?

THEAET. That is monstrous and absurd, Socrates.

SOC. And yet if a knowledge of each letter is necessary before one can know both, he who is ever to know a syllable must certainly know the letters first, and so our fine theory will have run away and vanished!

THEAET. And very suddenly, too.

SOC. Yes, for we are not watching it carefully. Perhaps we ought to have said that the syllable is not the letters, but a single concept that has arisen from them, having a single form of its own, different from the letters.

THEAET. Certainly; and perhaps that will be better than the other way.

SOC. Let us look into that; we must not give up in such unmanly fashion a great and impressive theory.

THEAET. No, we must not.

SOC. Let it be, then, as we say now, that the syllable or combination is a single form arising out of the several conjoined elements, and that it is the same in words and in all other things.

THEAET. Certainly.

SOC. Therefore there must be no parts of it.

THEAET. How so?

SOC. Because if there are parts of anything, the whole must inevitably be all the parts; or do you assert also that the whole that has arisen out of the parts is a single concept different from all the parts?

THEAET. Yes, I do.

SOC. Do you then say that all and the whole are the same, or that each of the two is different from the other?

THEAET. I am not sure; but you tell me to answer boldly, so I take the risk and say that they are different.

SOC. Your boldness, Theaetetus, is right; but whether your answer is so remains to be seen.

THEAET. Yes, certainly, we must see about that.

SOC. The whole, then, according to our present view, would differ from all?

THEAET. Yes.

SOC. How about this? Is there any difference between all in the plural and all in the singular? For instance, if we say one, two, three, four, five, six, or twice three, or three times two, or four and two, or three and two and one, are we in all these forms speaking of the same or of different numbers?

THEAET. Of the same.

SOC. That is, of six?

THEAET. Yes.

SOC. Then in each form of speech we have spoken of all the six?

THEAET. Yes.

SOC. And again do we not speak of one thing when we speak of them all?

THEAET. Assuredly.

SOC. That is, of six?

THEAET. Yes.

SOC. Then in all things that are made up of number, we apply the same term to all in the plural and all in the singular?

THEAET. Apparently.

SOC. Here is another way of approaching the matter. The number of the fathom and the fathom are the same, are they not?

THEAET. Yes.

SOC. And of the furlong likewise.

THEAET. Yes.

SOC. And the number of the army is the same as the army, and all such cases are alike? In each of them all the number is all the thing.

THEAET. Yes.

SOC. And is the number of each anything but the parts of each?

THEAET. No.

SOC. Everything that has parts, accordingly, consists of parts, does it not?

THEAET. Evidently.

SOC. But we are agreed that the all must be all the parts if all the number is to be the all. [*](Cf. Plat. Theaet. 204b)

THEAET. Yes.

SOC. Then the whole does not consist of parts, for if it consisted of all the parts it would be the all.

THEAET. That seems to be true.

SOC. But is a part a part of anything in the world but the whole?

THEAET. Yes, of the all.

SOC. You are putting up a brave fight, Theaetetus. But is not the all precisely that of which nothing is wanting?

THEAET. Necessarily.

SOC. And is not just this same thing, from which nothing whatsoever is lacking, a whole? For that from which anything is lacking is neither a whole nor all, which have become identical simultaneously and for the same reason.

THEAET. I think now that there is no difference between all and whole.

SOC. We were saying, were we not, that if there are parts of anything, the whole and all of it will be all the parts?

THEAET. Certainly.

SOC. Once more, then, as I was trying to say just now, if the syllable is not the letters, does it not follow necessarily that it contains the letters, not as parts of it, or else that being the same as the letters, it is equally knowable with them?

THEAET. It does.

SOC. And it was in order to avoid this that we assumed that it was different from them?

THEAET. Yes.

SOC. Well then, if the letters are not parts of the syllable, can you mention any other things which are parts of it, but are not the letters [*](The reader is reminded that words στοιχεῖον and συλλαβή have the meanings element and combination as well as letter and syllable.) of it?

THEAET. Certainly not. For if I grant that there are parts of the syllable, it would be ridiculous to give up the letters and look for other things as parts.

SOC. Without question, then, Theaetetus, the syllable would be, according to our present view, some indivisible concept.

THEAET. I agree.

SOC. Do you remember, then, my friend, that we admitted a little while ago, on what we considered good grounds, that there can be no rational explanation of the primary elements of which other things are composed, because each of them, when taken by itself, is not composite, and we could not properly apply to such an element even the expression be or this, because these terms are different and alien, and for this reason it is irrational and unknowable?

THEAET. I remember.

SOC. And is not this the sole reason why it is single in form and indivisible? I can see no other.

THEAET. There is no other to be seen.

SOC. Then the syllable falls into the same class with the letter, if it has no parts and is a single form?

THEAET. Yes, unquestionably.

SOC. If, then, the syllable is a plurality of letters and is a whole of which the letters are parts, the syllables and the letters are equally knowable and expressible, if all the parts were found to be the same as the whole.

THEAET. Certainly.

SOC. But if one and indivisible, then syllable and likewise letter are equally irrational and unknowable; for the same cause will make them so.

THEAET. I cannot dispute it.

SOC. Then we must not accept the statement of any one who says that the syllable is knowable and expressible, but the letter is not.

THEAET. No, not if we are convinced by our argument.

SOC. But would you not rather accept the opposite belief, judging by your own experience when you were learning to read?

THEAET. What experience?

SOC. In learning, you were merely constantly trying to distinguish between the letters both by sight and by hearing, keeping each of them distinct from the rest, that you might not be disturbed by their sequence when they were spoken or written.

THEAET. That is very true.

SOC. And in the music school was not perfect attainment the ability to follow each note and tell which string produced it; and everyone would agree that the notes are the elements of music?

THEAET. Yes, that is all true.

SOC. Then if we are to argue from the elements and combinations in which we ourselves have experience to other things in general, we shall say that the elements as a class admit of a much clearer knowledge than the compounds and of a knowledge that is much more important for the complete attainment of each branch of learning, and if anyone says that the compound is by its nature knowable and the element unknowable, we shall consider that he is, intentionally or unintentionally, joking.

THEAET. Certainly.

SOC. Still other proofs of this might be brought out, I think; but let us not on that account lose sight of the question before us, which is: What is meant by the doctrine that the most perfect knowledge arises from the addition of rational explanation to true opinion?

THEAET. No, we must not.

SOC. Now what are we intended to understand by rational explanation? I think it means one of three things.

THEAET. What are they?

SOC. The first would be making one’s own thought clear through speech by means of verbs and nouns, imaging the opinion in the stream that flows through the lips, as in a mirror or water. Do you not think the rational explanation is something of that sort?

THEAET. Yes, I do. At any rate, we say that he who does that speaks or explains.

SOC. Well, that is a thing that anyone can do sooner or later; he can show what he thinks about anything, unless he is deaf or dumb from the first; and so all who have any right opinion will be found to have it with the addition of rational explanation, and there will henceforth be no possibility of right opinion apart from knowledge.

THEAET. True.

SOC. Let us not, therefore, carelessly accuse him of talking nonsense who gave the definition of knowledge which we are now considering; for perhaps that is not what he meant. He may have meant that each person if asked about anything must be able in reply to give his questioner an account of it in terms of its elements.

THEAET. As for example, Socrates?

SOC. As, for example, Hesiod, speaking of a wagon, says,

a hundred pieces of wood in a wagon.

THEAET. Certainly.

SOC. But he, perhaps, would think we were ridiculous, just as he would if, on being asked about your name, we should reply by telling the syllables, holding a right opinion and expressing correctly what we have to say, but should think we were grammarians and as such both possessed and were expressing as grammarians would the rational explanation of the name Theaetetus. He would say that it is impossible for anyone to give a rational explanation of anything with knowledge, until he gives a complete enumeration of the elements, combined with true opinion. That, I believe, is what was said before.

THEAET. Yes, it was.

SOC. So, too, he would say that we have right opinion about a wagon, but that he who can give an account of its essential nature in terms of those one hundred parts has by this addition added rational explanation to true opinion and has acquired technical knowledge of the essential nature of a wagon, in place of mere opinion, by describing the whole in terms of its elements.

THEAET. Do you agree to that, Socrates?

SOC. If you, my friend, agree to it and accept the view that orderly description in terms of its elements is a rational account of anything, but that description in terms of syllables or still larger units is irrational, tell me so, that we may examine the question.

THEAET. Certainly I accept it.

SOC. Do you accept it in the belief that anyone has knowledge of anything when he thinks that the same element is a part sometimes of one thing and sometimes of another or when he is of opinion that the same thing has as a part of it sometimes one thing and sometimes another?

THEAET. Not at all, by Zeus.

SOC. Then do you forget that when you began to learn to read you and the others did just that?

THEAET. Do you mean when we thought that sometimes one letter and sometimes another belonged to the same syllable, and when we put the same letter sometimes into the proper syllable and sometimes into another?

SOC. That is what I mean.

THEAET. By Zeus, I do not forget, nor do I think that those have knowledge who are in that condition.

SOC. Take an example: When at such a stage in his progress a person in writing Theaetetus thinks he ought to write, and actually does write, TH and E, and again in trying to write Theodorus thinks he ought to write, and does write, T and E, shall we say that he knows the first syllable of your names?

THEAET. No, we just now agreed that a person in such a condition has not yet gained knowledge.

SOC. Then there is nothing to prevent the same person from being in that condition with respect to the second and third and fourth syllables?

THEAET. No, nothing.

SOC. Then, in that case, he has in mind the orderly description in terms of letters, and will write Theaetetus with right opinion, when he writes the letters in order?

THEAET. Evidently.

SOC. But he is still, as we say, without knowledge, though he has right opinion?

THEAET. Yes.

SOC. Yes, but with his opinion he has rational explanation; for he wrote with the method in terms of letters in his mind, and we agreed that that was rational explanation.

THEAET. True.

SOC. There is, then, my friend, a combination of right opinion with rational explanation, which cannot as yet properly be called knowledge?

THEAET. There is not much doubt about it.

SOC. So it seems that the perfectly true definition of knowledge, which we thought we had, was but a golden dream. Or shall we wait a bit before we condemn it? Perhaps the definition to be adopted is not this, but the remaining one of the three possibilities one of which we said must be affirmed by anyone who asserts that knowledge is right opinion combined with rational explanation.

THEAET. I am glad you called that to mind. For there is still one left. The first was a kind of vocal image of the thought, the second the orderly approach to the whole through the elements, which we have just been discussing, and what is the third?

SOC. It is just the definition which most people would give, that knowledge is the ability to tell some characteristic by which the object in question differs from all others.

THEAET. As an example of the method, what explanation can you give me, and of what thing?

SOC. As an example, if you like, take the sun: I think it is enough for you to be told that it is the brightest of the heavenly bodies that revolve about the earth.

THEAET. Certainly.

SOC. Understand why I say this. It is because, as we were just saying, if you get hold of the distinguishing characteristic by which a given thing differs from the rest, you will, as some say, get hold of the definition or explanation of it; but so long as you cling to some common quality, your explanation will pertain to all those objects to which the common quality belongs.

THEAET. I understand; and it seems to me that it is quite right to call that kind a rational explanation or definition.

SOC. Then he who possesses right opinion about anything and adds thereto a comprehension of the difference which distinguishes it from other things will have acquired knowledge of that thing of which he previously had only opinion.

THEAET. That is what we affirm.

SOC. Theaetetus, now that I have come closer to our statement, I do not understand it at all. It is like coming close to a scene-painting. [*](In which perspective is the main thing.) While I stood off at a distance, I thought there was something in it.

THEAET. What do you mean?

SOC. I will tell you if I can. Assume that I have right opinion about you; if I add the explanation or definition of you, then I have knowledge of you, otherwise I have merely opinion.

THEAET. Yes.

SOC. But explanation was, we agreed, the interpretation of your difference.

THEAET. It was.

SOC. Then so long as I had merely opinion, I did not grasp in my thought any of the points in which you differ from others?

THEAET. Apparently not.

SOC. Therefore I was thinking of some one of the common traits which you possess no more than other men.

THEAET. You must have been.

SOC. For heaven’s sake! How in the world could I in that case have any opinion about you more than about anyone else? Suppose that I thought That is Theaetetus which is a man and has nose and eyes and mouth and so forth, mentioning all the parts. Can this thought make me think of Theaetetus any more than of Theodorus or of the meanest of the Mysians, [*](The Mysians were despised as especially effeminate and worthless) as the saying is?

THEAET. Of course not.

SOC. But if I think not only of a man with nose and eyes, but of one with snub nose and protruding eyes, shall I then have an opinion of you any more than of myself and all others like me?

THEAET. Not at all.

SOC. No; I fancy Theaetetus will not be the object of opinion in me until this snubnosedness of yours has stamped and deposited in my mind a memorial different from those of the other examples of snubnosedness that I have seen, and the other traits that make up your personality have done the like. Then that memorial, if I meet you again tomorrow, will awaken my memory and make me have right opinion about you.

THEAET. Very true.

SOC. Then right opinion also would have to do with differences in any given instance?

THEAET. At any rate, it seems so.

SOC. Then what becomes of the addition of reason or explanation to right opinion? For if it is defined as the addition of an opinion of the way in which a given thing differs from the rest, it is an utterly absurd injunction.

THEAET. How so?

SOC. When we have a right opinion of the way in which certain things differ from other things, we are told to acquire a right opinion of the way in which those same things differ from other things! On this plan the twirling of a scytale [*](A σκυτάλη was a staff, especially a staff about which a strip of leather was rolled, on which dispatches were so written that when unrolled they were illegible until rolled again upon another staff of the same size and shape.) or a pestle or anything of the sort would be as nothing compared with this injunction. It might more justly be called a blind man’s giving directions; for to command us to acquire that which we already have, in order to learn that of which we already have opinion, is very like a man whose sight is mightily darkened.

THEAET. Tell me now, what did you intend to say when you asked the question a while ago?

SOC. If, my boy, the command to add reason or explanation means learning to know and not merely getting an opinion about the difference, our splendid definition of knowledge would be a fine affair! For learning to know is acquiring knowledge, is it not?

THEAET. Yes.

SOC. Then, it seems, if asked, What is knowledge? our leader will reply that it is right opinion with the addition of a knowledge of difference; for that would, according to him, be the addition of reason or explanation.

THEAET. So it seems.

SOC. And it is utterly silly, when we are looking for a definition of knowledge, to say that it is right opinion with knowledge, whether of difference or of anything else whatsoever. So neither perception, Theaetetus, nor true opinion, nor reason or explanation combined with true opinion could be knowledge.

THEAET. Apparently not.

SOC. Are we then, my friend, still pregnant and in travail with knowledge, or have we brought forth everything?

THEAET. Yes, we have, and, by Zeus, Socrates, with your help I have already said more than there was in me.

SOC. Then does our art of midwifery declare to us that all the offspring that have been born are mere wind-eggs and not worth rearing?

THEAET. It does, decidedly.

SOC. If after this you ever undertake to conceive other thoughts, Theaetetus, and do conceive, you will be pregnant with better thoughts than these by reason of the present search, and if you remain barren, you will be less harsh and gentler to your associates, for you will have the wisdom not to think you know that which you do not know. So much and no more my art can accomplish; nor do I know aught of the things that are known by others, the great and wonderful men who are today and have been in the past. This art, however, both my mother and I received from God, she for women and I for young and noble men and for all who are fair. And now I must go to the Porch of the King, to answer to the suit which Meletus [*](Meletus was one of those who brought the suit which led to the condemnation and death of Socrates.) has brought against me. But in the morning, Theodorus, let us meet here again.