On Prayer

29 June 2026

On Prayer

“The Athenian Stranger: . .  this is what I assert: it is dangerous for one who lacks intelligence to pray, and the opposite of what he wishes comes to pass.  If you want to take me seriously here, you may.”

(Plato, Laws, translated by Thomas Pangle, The University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1980, page 72, 688b-688c, ISBN: 0226671100)

What the Athenian Stranger is referring to is petitionary prayer; that is to say making requests of the Gods for specific things.  This will become clearer with the additional quotes that follow.

“Socrates: . . .  you [Alcibiades] change about from this side to that without settling down for a moment, but as soon as you are firmly convinced of a thing you seem to slip out of it again and cease to hold the same view – well, if the god to whom you are going should even now appear to you and ask, before you uttered any prayer, whether you would be content to obtain one of those things which were mentioned at the beginning, or whether he should leave you to pray as you were, how do you suppose you would make the best of your chance – by accepting his offer, or by praying for something on your own account?

“Alcibiades:  Well, by the gods, I could not answer your question, Socrates, off hand.  Why, I take it to be a fatuous request, when it is really a case for great caution lest one pray unawares for what is evil while thinking it to be one’s good, and then after a little while, as you were saying, one change one’s tune and retract all one’s former prayers.”

(Plato, Alcibiades II, translated by W. R. M. Lamb, Loeb Classical Library, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1927, page 263, 147e-148b, ISBN: 9780674992214)

What Socrates is saying is that given the fickle character of Alcibiades it is likely that Alcibiades could easily change his mind about what he wanted from the gods to whom he was praying.  Alcibiades does not know how to respond to the point Socrates is making, but acknowledges that it is possible to pray for something that will prove harmful, both to oneself and to others; discovering that one has in fact made such a prayer will lead to wanting to pray to retract one’s former prayers.  Better to refrain from prayer until such time as one’s mind has stabilized.

The strongest critique of prayer from a Platonic perspective that I have run across is Oration 5 by Maximus of Tyre, simply titled ‘Prayer.’  Maximus begins by telling legends of how individuals were trapped by their prayer requests when the God that was prayed to granted the request in an unexpected way.  Some of these legends are famous such as the one about the Emperor who wanted to conquer a kingdom and asked an oracle about undertaking this conquest.  The Oracle responded by saying a great kingdom will be defeated if this project is undertaken.  The Emperor attacks and is defeated by the kingdom he attacks; the great kingdom that was defeated was his own.

It’s interesting to me that Maximus uses this as an example of why one should refrain from prayer because it shows that Maximus includes requests to Oracles as a type of prayer.  I find that interesting on a number of levels, not the least of which is that it differs from later Classical Platonists who tended to be more receptive to oracles.

Maximus also likes to emphasize that the gods are fickle and arbitrary in their granting of prayer requests, “When Priam offered prayers for his homeland, with daily sacrifices to Zeus of oxen and sheep, Zeus left them unfulfilled.”  And that’s just one example cited by Maximus.

(Maximus of Tyre, Oration 5: Prayer, translated by M. B. Trapp, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1997, page 43, ISBN: 0198149891)

Maximus undertakes an analysis of why things happen the way they do as an extended critique of why petitionary prayer is ineffective and unwise, “Of all the things which men pray to obtain, some are under the control of Providence, some are enforced by Destiny, some are at the mercy of fickle Fortune, and some are regulated by Science.  Providence is God’s work, Destiny the work of Necessity, Science the work of man, and Fortune the work of blind chance.  It is to the supervision of one or another of these four factors that the raw material of life is allocated.  What we pray for must therefore be attributed either to divine Providence, or to destined Necessity, or to human Science, or the vagaries of Fortune.

“If our objects are to be attributed to Providence, what place is there for prayer?”  Maximus makes a similar point with the other three factors of Destiny, Fortune, and Science.

(Ibid, pages 45-48)

Toward the conclusion Maximus does grant that philosophers such as Socrates and Pythagoras engaged in prayer.  But Maximus distinguishes between petitionary prayers and philosophical prayer, suggesting that philosophical prayer is a ‘conversation’ between the philosopher and the gods, “If you deprive life of philosophy, you have removed from it the living, breathing spark that alone knows how to pray.”

(Ibid, page 50)

It would appear that Maximus has the view that only a philosopher is mature enough to engage in prayer without exposing himself to strongly negative consequences.

These passages I have quoted are highly skeptical regarding the efficacy of prayer.  One might even draw the conclusion from these quotes that it is best to not engage in prayer, especially petitionary prayer.  The following quote from Phaedrus modifies that conclusion:

“Socrates:  I think he [Isocrates] has a nature above the speeches of Lysias and possesses a nobler character; so that I should not be surprised if, as he grows older, he should so excel in his present studies that all who have ever treated of rhetoric shall seem less than children; and I suspect that these studies will not satisfy him, but a more divine impulse will lead him to greater things; for my friend, something of philosophy is inborn in his mind.  This is the message that I carry from these deities to my favourite Isocrates, and do you carry the other to Lysias, your favourite.

“Phaedrus:  It shall be done; but now let us go, since the heat has grown gentler.

“Socrates:  Is it not well to pray to the deities here before we do?

“Phaedrus:  Of course.

“Socrates:  O beloved Pan and all ye other gods of this place, grant to me that I be made beautiful in my soul within, and that all external possessions be in harmony with my inner man.  May I consider the wise man rich; and may I have such wealth as only the self-restrained man can bear or endure – Do we need anything more, Phaedrus?  For me that prayer is enough.

“Phaedrus:  Let me also share in this prayer; for friends have all things in common.

“Socrates:  Let us go.”

(Plato, Phaedrus, translated by Harold North Fowler, Loeb Classical Library, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1914, page 579, 279a-279c, ISBN: 0674990404)

Here we have a famous example of Socrates praying to Pan and the ‘gods of this place.’  We have an intriguing contrast between Socrates sharing a prayer with Phaedrus in the dialogue Phaedrus, and Socrates challenging Alcibiades about what will happen to him if he prays in Alcibiades II.  I think the resolution of this is that Phaedrus, in the dialogue that carries his name, is engaged in deep philosophical discussion with Socrates; one gets the impression that Phaedrus is a budding philosopher with a very developed and cultivated mind.  In addition, the grove, which is outside the city walls of Athens, is thick with deities of various sorts; even the cicadas are communing with the gods in the hot summer air.  I suggest that these conditions are ideal for entering into prayer (as an aside, the grove is in nature, it is not a temple, which suggests that efficacious prayer has a spontaneous aspect to it.)

In contrast, Alcibiades has not developed his mind or his character and under the questioning of Socrates it is clear to the reader that Alcibiades has not lived an ‘examined life.’  (This is true for both Alcibiades I and II.)  Nor does the location of the dialogue lend support to prayer done in a manner consistent with the philosophical vocation.

The conclusion, I think, is that Socrates regards prayer as something that only a philosophical mind can undertake without inviting considerable risk both material and spiritual.

Concluding Remarks

This Platonist perspective on prayer would distinguish the life of a philosopher from that of a participant in the civic religion of Athens.  Praying for things, petitionary prayer, was a very common practice both at home altars and at temples.  For a philosopher to suggest that petitionary prayer is not a good idea for an untrained mind would, I think, have been baffling, or even seen as foolish, by most people.

I studied Buddhism in Korea many decades ago.  And there I learned that for most lay Buddhists their relationship to the Dharma is to go to a Temple, make an offering, light incense and bow, and then pray to the Buddha, or a Bodhisattva, for specific things: a new car, to pass a test, easy childbirth, a good business contract, a new house, and so forth.  In my own imagination I think of the civic religion of Athens as similarly focused. 

I think we often get a distorted impression of what religion is like in most circumstances, particularly regarding religions we don’t know much about.  Western Buddhists are inclined to read very sophisticated Buddhist analyses and philosophy; but these kinds of texts have almost no impact on an average Buddhist practitioner who goes to the Temple to pray.  Similarly, with regard to Platonism, those of us interested in Platonism may have developed sophisticated analyses as to the nature of the gods; a good example is the henads found in Proclus and other Late Classical Platonists’ writings.  Popular religion is, for the most part, practical; that is to say popular religion is looked at as a way to align with unseen forces so that one can better achieve material goals.  I understand that appeal and I am in some ways sympathetic to it.

But just as a philosopher cultivates a certain diet as a matter of purification, so also a philosopher cultivates a way of relating to gods, or unseen forces, that is also a matter of purification.  In this case the purification is meant to align one’s understanding with a larger context.

Personally, I pray every day as part of my morning practice.  I pray for those whom I have loved and who have passed away that they may rest in peace with the Good and the One.  I pray to embody the precepts of philosophy (ethical restraints).  And I repent for the negative things I have done in my past, that I may not repeat them.  I think this is consistent with the prayer that Socrates offers at the conclusion of Phaedrus.  My hope is that my practice of prayer may make me beautiful within, or uncover the beauty within, that I may return to the Good and the One and the Eternal.

Brief Notes on Various Topics -- 45

5 May 2025

Brief Notes on Various Topics – 45

1.  I recently saw two youtube presentations by contemporary British philosophers.  One of them was young, about 30 years old, the other was about 60 years old.  I am not familiar with either of them.

What interested me is that both of them expressed adherence to analytic philosophy of the type that reigned in the early 20^th century in Britain.  It sounded as if nothing had changed in the century since analytic philosophy emerged.  The young philosopher praised A. J. Ayer which really surprised me.  I haven’t heard Ayer’s name even mentioned in many decades, let alone praised.  And the older philosopher when asked about how metaphysical statements can be handled if, for example, one disagrees with a metaphysical assertion, offered that “We don’t do that anymore.  We (meaning philosophers) are no longer engaged in grand metaphysical visions; rather, our mission is to clarify and narrow the discussion.”  Or something like that.

It was a strange feeling for me.  This way of talking about philosophy was widespread when I was an undergraduate many decades ago.  To see it presented unchanged after all that time was frustrating.  I’m not the only one who feels that way; I’ve heard, and read, similar observations from quite a few other people.

If I were forced to pick one single part of analytic philosophy for criticism it would be that analytic philosophy does not understand how words work, it does not understand that words are inherently ‘analogical.’  That would be my starting point.

2.  I’ve recently become aware of the writings of Hippocrates and how they emphasize non-harming.  Here are two quotes taken from the Harvard University Medical School webpage; the first one is from the Hippocratic Oath:

“I will follow that system of regimen which, according to my ability and judgment, I consider for the benefit of my patients, and abstain from whatever is deleterious and mischievous.”

And this second quote is from Hippocrates’s treatises on Epidemics:

“The physician must be able to tell the antecedents, know the present, and foretell the future – must meditate these things, and have two special objects in view with regard to disease, namely, to do good or to do no harm.”

Hippocrates was born about 460 BCE and died about 370 BCE (about 90 years).  Various dates are given for Plato with birth ranging between 428 and 423 BCE and death at 348/347 BCE.  Hippocrates was born on the island of Cos and he is mentioned in Plato’s dialogues Protagoras and Phaedrus.

In the Protagoras there is a character named Hippocrates who is not the famous Hippocrates of Cos, the physician.  Socrates uses their common name to question the Hippocrates who is with him as they gather around the courtyard waiting to see Protagoras:

“Tell me, Hippocrates,” I said, “in your present design of going to Protagoras and paying him money as a fee for his services to yourself, to whom do you consider you are resorting, and what is it that you are to become?  Suppose, for example, you had taken it into your head to call on your namesake Hippocrates of Cos, the Asclepiad, and pay him money as your personal fee, and suppose someone asked you – Tell me, Hippocrates, in purposing to pay a fee to Hippocrates [of Cos], what do you consider him to be?  How would you answer that?”

“A doctor, I would say.”

(Plato, Protagoras, translated by W. R. M. Lamb, Loeb Classical Library, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1924, page 99, 311b-c, ISBN: 9780674991835)

This indicates that Hippocrates of Cos, the physician, was well known, likely famous for his skill as a physician.  It may also indicate that Socrates had some familiarity with some of the broader teachings of Hippocrates.  I find it intriguing to think about the famous teachings on non-harming found in both Hippocrates and in dialogues such as Crito where Socrates expounds on the meaning of non-harming, and I wonder if there is some cross-fertilization.  Or perhaps this teaching on non-harming comes from a common, more ancient, source that nourished both Socrates and Hippocrates.

In Phaedrus Socrates says the following about Hippocrates:

Socrates: “Well, isn’t the method of medicine in a way the same as the method of rhetoric?”

Phaedrus:  “How so?”

Socrates: In both cases we need to determine the nature of something – of the body in medicine, of the soul in rhetoric.  Otherwise, all we’ll have will be an empirical and artless practice.  We won’t be able to supply, on the basis of an art, a body with the medicines and diet that will make it healthy and strong, or a soul with the reasons and customary rules for conduct that will impart to it the convictions and virtues we want.”

Phaedrus: “That is most likely, Socrates.”

Socrates: “Do you think, then, that it is possible to reach a serious understanding of the nature of the soul without understanding the nature of the world as a whole?”

Phaedrus: “Well, if we’re to listen to Hippocrates, Asclepius’ descendant, we won’t even understand the body if we don’t follow that method.”

(Plato, Phaedrus, translated by Alexander Nehamas and Paul Woodruff, Plato: Complete Works, edited by John M. Cooper, Hackett Publishing, Indianapolis, 1997, pages 546-547, 270b-c, ISBN: 9780872203495)

This passage does not contain a reference to non-harming.  Instead it emphasizes ethical training in ‘convictions’ and ‘virtues’.  There are several analogies operating in this passage.  One is the comparison between rhetoric and medicine, and the other is between body and soul, and that the curing of the body resembles the curing of the soul through rhetoric when rhetoric is correctly understood and taught.  The passage concludes that in order to understand the nature of the soul one needs to understand the world as a whole, which I read as meaning that which governs the whole world, specifically the world soul.

This is speculative, but it seems that Socrates was familiar with the teachings of Hippocrates.  It seems that Plato had a positive view of Hippocrates and perhaps that is attributable to the teachings on non-harming found in both of their writings.

2.1  Here is another translation of the passage from Phaedrus which I’m including because of its different emphases:

Socrates: “The method of the art of healing is much the same as that of rhetoric.”

Phaedrus: “How so?”

Socrates: “In both cases you must analyze a nature, in one that of the body and in the other than of the soul, if you are to proceed in a scientific manner, not merely by practice and routine, to impart health and strength to the body by prescribing medicine and diet, or by proper discourses and training to give to the soul the desired belief and virtue.”

Phaedrus: “That, Socrates, is probably true.”

Socrates: “Now do you think one can acquire any appreciable knowledge of the nature of the soul without knowing the nature of the whole man?”

Phaedrus: “If Hippocrates the Asclepiad is to be trusted, one cannot know the nature of the body, either, except in that way.”

(Plato, Phaedrus, translated by Harold North Fowler, Loeb Classical Library, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1914, pages 547-549, ISBN: 0674990404)

Notice that in the Fowler translation it says that to know the soul one has to know the nature of the ‘whole man’, whereas in the Nehamas and Woodruff translation it says you need to know the ‘world as a whole’.  I think this is a striking difference. 

3.  Plato doesn’t start with doubt; I mean the kind of systematic doubt that is distinctive of modern philosophy.  Plato, it seems to me, is much more accepting of the world.  That might sound odd for an ascetically inclined philosopher who often has negative things to say about the pursuit of pleasure and whose philosophy is ultimately about transcending the world.  But there is also a luminous quality about the world that Plato lives in and reveals to us.  The world is an expression of the transcendental and as such the world is, when comprehended through contemplation, the means for finding our home in eternity.

4.  If the world is all you have then the world does not have much to offer.  If the world is understood as a gate to noetic and transcendental realities, then that is the gift the world has for those who can accept such a gift.

5.  I keep running into various people making the assertion that Plotinus was a ‘rationalist’ whereas other Late Classical Platonists were not.  My understanding of ‘rationalism’ is that it is the view that reason is the final authority; when applied to religion it means that reason surpasses revelation, intuition, and so forth, as the source for religious understanding.  And I think that same understanding applies in a philosophical context.

Spinoza would be an example of a rationalist; his use of the geometric method signals this.  The same would apply to Proclus in The Elements of Theology.  But Plotinus does not use that kind of approach or method (neither does Plato).  The writing of Plotinus ebbs and flows, focuses on a point, then moves on to another point that is connected, usually, by some kind of similarity to the preceding point, or refers back to the main topic of the Ennead.  The style of Plotinus is more free form than that of Spinoza or Proclus (this is consistent with Porphyry’s description of how Plotinus wrote in The Life of Plotinus). 

Perhaps the people using this term to describe Plotinus mean something different by the term ‘rationalist’ or ‘rationalism’, but I suspect that this usage reflects a basic misunderstanding of the philosophy of Plotinus.  I say this because Plotinus uses intuition, suggestion, and most of all, contemplation as foundations for his philosophy.  I think Plotinus makes this very clear. 

5.1 It just occurred to me that those who think of Plotinus as a rationalist may do so because they do not understand what ‘contemplation’ means.  They may think of the word ‘contemplation’ as meaning something like ‘thinking about’ some topic.  But this is not what Plotinus means by contemplation; by contemplation Plotinus means going beyond reason, designation, and affirmation and negation.  This is explained in Enneads V and VI.

6.  A friend of mine recently asked me what attracted me to Platonism.  We have been friends for a very long time and my friend wondered why I dropped my affiliation to Buddhism, after decades of study and practice; and in particular why I started to identify as a Platonist which is an obscure tradition.  By ‘obscure’ my friend meant that Platonism is not normally understood to be a spiritual path, that Platonic teachings are not presented in this way in all but a few contexts.

I had not considered this question and at first I was stumped.  After a while, though, I realized that the change was primarily based on my experience of soul.  Buddhism, famously, has the doctrine of ‘no soul, anatman/anatta’.  I had learned a lot about this perspective and was skilled in communicating it to others.  But there came a time when I could no longer deny an underlying sense of continuity and unity that makes a person a person.  And at some point I could no longer deny that this underlying unity was what is meant by soul.

I didn’t immediately become a Platonist during this process of change in my basic view.  In fact, I spent a number of years wandering through various traditions trying to find a spiritual home.  Looking back, I think it was Phaedo in particular that opened the door to Platonism for me.  Over the years I had recommended Phaedo to people who wanted to understand the idea of rebirth because I think it is a clearer presentation than those found in other spiritual traditions.  So Phaedo was familiar to me.  But this time I read Phaedo focusing primarily on the arguments for the existence of soul and for the nature of soul.  That was enormously helpful and led me to want to know more about Platonism; this also indicated to me that Platonism is a spiritual tradition, or should be comprehended from a spiritual/religious perspective.

This change of affiliation wasn’t dramatic, or traumatic, for me.  Looking back, it appears to me more like the slow blossoming of a flower.

 

 

Some Comments on Phaedrus

13 January 2025

Some Comments on Phaedrus

Socrates:  So what distinguishes good from bad writing?  Do we need to ask this question of Lysias or anyone else who ever did or will write anything – whether a public or a private document, poetic verse or plain prose?

Phaedrus:  You ask  if we need to?  Why else should one live, I say, if not for pleasures of this sort?  Certainly not for those you cannot feel unless you are first in pain, like most of the pleasures of the body, and which for this reason we call the pleasures of slaves.

Socrates:  It seems we clearly have the time.  Besides, I think that the cicadas, who are singing and carrying on conversations with one another in the heat of the day above our heads, are also watching us.  And if they see the two of us avoiding conversation at midday like most people, diverted by their song and, sluggish of mind, nodding off, they would have every right to laugh at us, convinced that a pair of slaves had come to their resting place to sleep like sheep gathering around the spring in the afternoon.  But if they see us in conversation, steadfastly navigating around them as if they were the Sirens, they will be very pleased and immediately give us the gift from the gods they are able to give to mortals.

Phaedrus:  What is this gift?  I don’t think I have heard of it.

Socrates:  Everyone who loves the Muses should have heard of this.  The story goes that the cicadas used to be human beings who lived before the birth of the Muses.  When the Muses were born and song was created for the first time, some of the people of that time were so overwhelmed with the pleasure of singing that they forgot to eat or drink; so they died without even realizing it.  It is from them that the race of the cicadas came into being; and, as a gift from the Muses, they have no need of nourishment once they are born.  Instead, they immediately burst into song, without food or drink, until it is time for them to die.  After they die, they go to the Muses and tell each one of them which mortals have honored her.  To Terpsichore they report those who have honored her by their devotion to the dance and thus make them dearer to her.  To Erato, they report those who honored her by dedicating themselves to the affairs of love, and so too with the other Muses, according to the activity that honors each.  And to Calliope, the oldest among them, and Urania, the next after her, who preside over the heavens and all discourse, human and divine, and sing with the sweetest voice, they report those who honor their special kind of music by leading a philosophical life.

There are many reasons, then, why we should talk and not waste our afternoon in sleep.

Phaedrus:  By all means, let’s talk.

Socrates:  Well, then, we ought to examine the topic we proposed just now: When is a speech well written and delivered, and when is it not?

Phaedrus:  Plainly.

Socrates:  Won’t someone who is to speak well and nobly have to have in mind the truth about the subject he is going to discuss?

Phaedrus:  What I have actually heard about this, Socrates, my friend, is that it is not necessary for the intending orator to learn what is really just, but only what will seem just to the crowd who will act as judges.  Nor again, what is really good or noble, but only what will seem so.  For that is what persuasion proceeds from, not truth.

Socrates:  Anything that wise men say, Phaedrus, “is not lightly to be cast aside" (Iliad ii.361); we must consider whether it might be right.  And what you just said, in particular, must not be dismissed.

Phaedrus:  You’re right.

Socrates:  Let’s look at it this way, then.

Phaedrus:  How?

Socrates:  Suppose I were trying to convince you that you should fight your enemies on horseback, and neither one of us knew what a horse is, but I happened to know this much about you, that Phaedrus believes a horse is the tame animal with the longest ears 

Phaedrus:  But that would be ridiculous, Socrates.

Socrates:  Not quite yet, actually.  But if I were seriously trying to convince you, having composed a speech in praise of the donkey in which I called it a horse and claimed that having such an animal is of immense value both at home and in military service, that it is good for fighting and for carrying your baggage and that it is useful for much else besides –

Phaedrus:  Well, that would be totally ridiculous.

Socrates:  Well, which is better?  To be ridiculous and a friend?  Or clever and an enemy?

Phaedrus:  The former.

Socrates:  And so, when a rhetorician who does not know good from bad addresses a city which knows no better and attempts to sway it, not praising a miserable donkey as if it were a horse, but bad as if it were good, and, having studied what the people believe, persuades them to do something bad instead of good – with that as its seed, what sort of crop do you think rhetoric can harvest?

Phaedrus:  A crop of really poor quality.

Socrates:  But could it be, my friend, that we have mocked the art of speaking more rudely than it deserves?  For it might perhaps reply, “What bizarre nonsense!  Look, I am not forcing anyone to learn how to make speeches without knowing the truth; on the contrary, my advice, for what it is worth, is to take me up only after mastering the truth.  But I do make this boast: even someone who knows the truth couldn’t produce conviction on the basis of a systematic art without me?”

Phaedrus:  Well, is that a fair reply?

Socrates:  Yes, it is – if, that is, the arguments now advancing upon rhetoric testify that it is an art.  For it seems to me as if I hear certain arguments approaching and protesting that that is a lie and that rhetoric is not an art but an artless practice (see also Gorgias 462b-c).  As the Spartan said, there is no genuine art of speaking without a grasp of truth, and there never will be.

Phaedrus:  We need to hear these arguments, Socrates.  Come, produce them, and examine them: What is their point?  How do they make it?

Socrates:  Come to us, then, noble creatures; convince Phaedrus, him of the beautiful offspring (see Symposium 209b-e), that unless he pursues philosophy properly he will never be able to make a proper speech on any subject either. . .

(Plato, Phaedrus, translated by Dorothea Frede, Plato: Complete Works, edited by John M. Cooper, Hackett Publishing Company, Indianapolis, Indiana, 1997, pages 535-537, 258d-261a, ISBN: 9780872203495)

1.  Plato’s dialogue, Phaedrus, has a kind of otherworldly feeling to it; it’s a little bit like fantasy literature.  I am referring to the frequent presence of, or references to, various types of deities.  Early in the dialogue Socrates and Phaedrus talk about the presence of nymphs in the rural setting where the dialogue takes place.  In addition, there is a reference to a mythic incident where the God Boreas took a maid from a nearby stream.  And in the dialogue the cicadas are depicted as semi-divine beings who ‘sing’ and upon their deaths report back to the Muses on the behavior of human beings.  Towards the end of the dialogue there is a reference to the legend of Thoth and a commentary on that legend.

This gives the dialogue a deep sense of connection to this level of reality where deities of various types dwell, and how that level of reality intersects with the material world of human beings.  This is referenced in a relaxed and natural way by Socrates, and Phaedrus; and this gives the impression that both of them are used to these kinds of legends, realities, and presences.

Throughout human history these kinds of realities were taken for granted.  The only culture that does not accept these kinds of realities is our present materialist and reductionist culture.  What I am noting is that the depiction of these kinds of presences is the norm for human cultures; it is only because we grow up in an anomalous cultural situation that when we read these passages about these presences we have to struggle to integrate them into our world view.

One way I have looked at this is that I can either accept that all those other cultures were right and that there are such realities and appearances; but the implication of this is that my own culture, which denies these realities in the name of materialism, is wrong.  Or I can assert that my own culture is right and that every other culture in human history is wrong; but aligning with this type of analysis strikes me as a case of cultural hubris.

2.  Above I said that Phaedrus, at times, reads like a modern fantasy.  But perhaps a better way of putting it is that Phaedrus depicts an enchanted world and landscape with a world permeated by meaning and symbolic significance.  It is the absence of this sense of enchantment that is a significant, and depressing, feature of modernity; a feature that both leads to nihilism and at the same time is a cause of nihilism.

2.1  Thinking about what all these presences mean and how to approach them, it occurs to me that the feeling I get is that Phaedrus depicts an animistic world, a world where everything is alive and ensouled.  For example, late in the dialogue it says:

“Socrates: But, my friend, the priests of the temple of Zeus at Dodona say that the first prophecies were the words of an oak.  Everyone who lived at that time, not being as wise as you young ones are today, found it rewarding enough in their simplicity to listen to an oak or even a stone, so long as it was telling the truth, while it seems to make a difference to you, Phaedrus, who is speaking and where he comes from.  Why, though, don’t you just consider whether what he says is right or wrong?

“Phaedrus:  I deserved that, Socrates. . . “

(As above, page 552, 275b)

Discussions about the theology of Platonism seem to center on arguing that Plato was a Pagan Polytheist, or that Plato was in some sense a Monist.  I have tended to view Plato as a Monist, but I think a case can be made for other interpretations of Plato’s theology.  My suggestion here is that Platonism can be understood to have deep roots connecting it with an ancient animistic substrata, inherited from primal traditions such as Orphism and Pythagoreanism.  Notice how Socrates contrasts the youth of his time with those of the past whom he ironically refers to as simple-minded.  This quote is connected with the rest of the dialogue because other sections of the dialogue are focused on, for example, the techniques of rhetoric which can be used to advocate for the truth or for falsehoods.  And there are sections that are similarly focused but in relationship to the Sophists.  The thread that links all of these together is that Socrates is consistently advocating for speaking the truth, for following the path that leads to truth, for listening to the truth, and that this is the Way of Philosophy.  If an oak tree speaks words of truth, or if a stone speaks words of truth, or if the cicadas are speaking truth, then they should be accepted as sources of wisdom.  They should be listened to and learned from.  But this implies that in some sense oak trees, stones, and cicadas are conscious, or have a mind, and that they possess a soul.  I think this reshapes, or can reshape, how we view the religiosity of Platonic thought.  

3.  The dialogue begins with Phaedrus leading Socrates out of the city of Athens into a rural setting.  I believe that the Athens of that day was a walled city so that the transition from urban Athens to the rural setting beyond Athens would be abrupt.  It reminds me of Alice stepping into the looking glass and encountering another world where things are very different.  

4.  As Phaedrus and Socrates are walking to a shade tree near a stream, the question of how to treat these appearances, legends, and enchanted realities is raised.  I posted about this in another context already.  But to briefly repeat, Phaedrus asks Socrates if Socrates really believes that these stories and realities are true?  Socrates responds that he has no time for such questions and that he does not concern himself with them.  He accepts them but focuses on looking into his own self.

I don’t think of the response of Socrates here as agnostic.  Rather I think of it as the response of someone who is comfortable with these realities without being personally invested in them.  My own understanding of this is that Socrates views these fantastic realities as part of the third level, or hypostasis, of reality; that is to say they are part of the material world.  I think the attitude of Socrates resembles someone telling Socrates about the people of China, or the people of India, whom he has never met or interacted with.  If a traveller tells Socrates about these people and places Socrates would be inclined to accept what he was told; but if Socrates met someone who wanted to argue about these reports I suspect Socrates would respond that he doesn’t get into arguments about topics like this because his focus is on knowing his self or his soul.

5.  The image that Plato gives to us of the cicadas singing transforms an experience many of us have had on a hot summer day into a divine communication.  The cicadas become messengers of the presence of the divine.  And they are messengers to the divine regarding our own behavior.  Plato transforms the sound of the cicadas to the singing of the cicadas and by doing so Plato is able to link the cicadas to the Muses.  The Muses have a long history in the ancient world, both in Greece and in other regions.  The number of Muses changed over time and from region to region, but in the classical period there were nine.  According to Wikipedia they are:

Calliope – the muse of epic poetry

Clio – the muse of history

Polyhymnia – the muse of hymns

Euterpe – the muse associated with the flute

Terpsichore – the muse of dance

Erato – the muse of lyric choral poetry

Melpomene – the muse of tragedy

Thalia – the muse of comedy

Urania – the muse of astronomy, astrology, and space

Plato mentions four muses:

Terpsichore – the muse of dance

Erato – the muse of erotic affairs

     Calliope (the oldest of the muses) and Urania (the next oldest) – the muses of discourse both heavenly and human, the muses for those leading a philosophical life.

I’m not sure what role the Muses played in the life of philosophy, but I suspect it was a significant one.  I say this because in 2024 a history of Plato’s Academy was deciphered from a scroll found in Pompeii.  The scroll mentions that Plato was buried in the Academy near a statue, or shrine, of the Muses (reported in The Smithsonian of May 1, 2024.)  This may indicate a relationship between Plato, or Platonism and the Muses, though exactly what this relationship consisted in, is not clear to me.  But tentatively, I think it indicates a divine origin to philosophy and that there was a kind of communication between the Muses of Philosophy, Calliope and Urania, and philosophers like Plato.  

The whole mythic episode is thick with suggestive meaning in the way that a song can have multiple layers of meaning.

6.  The dialogue moves from the singing of the cicadas to the speechifying of humans and asks the question of when a speech is well done.  This is a theme that is woven into the dialogue from beginning to end.  Issues such as whether or not a well constructed speech that attempts to convince people of a lie is still a good speech; or, in contrast, whether a good speech must also be dedicated to the truth.

Plato’s discussion on this topic is found in a number of dialogues, such as those that directly involve Sophists.  It is a topic that is relevant to us today when we are inundated by manipulative discourse such as propaganda and advertising.  Plato’s observations speak directly to the condition of our society at this time.

7.  We live in a society where a significant portion of people, especially intellectuals, do not believe in the existence of truth; instead they believe in something called ‘narrative’ or ‘story.’  This leads to conflicts because there is no way to settle differences of opinion, or view, when there are conflicting narratives if there is no truth.  

For this reason the Platonist is put in the position of defending the idea of truth; not an easy task.

8.  “. . . unless he pursues philosophy properly he will never be able to make a proper speech on any subject . . . “  (as above, page 537)

Philosophy is the love of wisdom.  Wisdom is the pursuit of transcendental truth by making careful distinctions through careful divisions, through dialectic, through carefully crafted questions, through considering implications, and so forth.  Wisdom is also the art of making careful comparisons through devices such as allegory, metaphor, and myth.  All of this is done for the purpose of ascending to the realm of truth that lies beyond the material realm, which is the realm of opinion.  A proper speech is in the service of these goals, in the service of truth and transcendence.