The Leo Strauss Transcript Series

Leo Strauss, Robert C. Bartlett

• Publisher: University of Chicago Press
• Year: 2022
• ISBN:
  9780226818160
• Topic: Philosophy
• Subtopic: Philosophy History & Theory

A transcript of Leo Strauss's key seminars on Plato's Protagoras.
 
This book offers a transcript of Strauss's seminar on Plato's Protagoras taught at the University of Chicago in the spring quarter of 1965, edited and introduced by renowned scholar Robert C. Bartlett. These lectures have several important features. Unlike his published writings, they are less dense and more conversational.  Additionally, while Strauss regarded himself as a Platonist and published some work on Plato, he published little on individual dialogues. In these lectures Strauss treats many of the great Platonic and Straussian themes: the difference between the Socratic political science or art and the Sophistic political science or art of Protagoras; the character and teachability of virtue, its relation to knowledge, and the relations among the virtues, courage, justice, moderation, and wisdom; the good and the pleasant; frankness and concealment; the role of myth; and the relation between freedom of thought and freedom of speech.
 
In these lectures, Strauss examines Protagoras and the sophists, providing a detailed discussion of Protagoras as it relates to Plato's other dialogues and the work of modern thinkers. This book should be of special interest to students both of Plato and of Strauss.

1

Sophistry and Rhetoric: Plato’s Gorgias Reconsidered

Leo Strauss: Now let us begin at the beginning. We make one assumption which is not entirely clear but which is generally accepted, namely, that students of political science should have some knowledge of the history of political philosophy. Now such knowledge is supplied in the general survey course on the history of political philosophy, but some of you may wish to have a more detailed or more exact knowledge than can be supplied in such a course, a less global and more specialized knowledge. I offer, therefore, every second year, a course on Plato’s political philosophy.

Now Plato has presented his political philosophy in such a way that a report about it is particularly inadequate or unsatisfactory. I shall not repeat now what I have said often in class, but I have now said it in print in The City and Man,1 the first sixteen pages of the chapter on Plato’s Republic, and I ask you to read that. I give therefore the course on Plato’s political philosophy in the form of an interpretation of a single Platonic dialogue. The first choice would naturally be the Republic, but the Republic has one great defect—it is very long—and therefore I prefer a shorter dialogue.

The last time that I lectured on Plato’s political philosophy I selected the Gorgias on the grounds that it leads up to the question which is in a way the broadest of all questions: How should a man live? And the answer given is generally: the philosophic life is the right life. But in the Gorgias the philosophic life is said to be the truly political life, or rather, Socrates claims that he is the only true political man, statesman, in Athens. The explicit subject of the Gorgias is rhetoric, and rhetoric is asserted to be not an art but a flattery, a kind of flattery, a sham. Every sham art is a spurious imitation of a genuine art, and Socrates suggests this schema: there are arts dealing with the body and arts dealing with the soul, and there is one which is called gymnastics for the body, and medicine. [LS writes on the blackboard2] Building up the healthy body: gymnastics; restoring health when lost: medicine. Similarly, there are two arts here: one is called the legislative art, which is said to correspond with gymnastics; and another is called, let us say, the punitive art. The Greek word used is the same as justice in the sense of course of vindictive justice, chiefly punishment, which is a kind of medicine for the soul. Now these two together are called the political art. Socrates says there is no common name for the two arts concerning the body. And now we come to the corresponding sham arts. Cosmetics, here, which makes the appearance of a healthy body by all kinds of things. And medicine, corresponding to that is the art of cooking, pastry cooking, also a sham gratification. And here sophistry, and corresponding to that is rhetoric. That is the schema, the very ambiguous schema which Socrates proposes in the Gorgias.

Now this implies that sophistry, however bad it may be, is in itself higher, or at least less ignoble than rhetoric, because it is positive, corresponds to the positive thing. Now this must make us interested in the question of what sophistry is. Sophistry is the subject of the dialogue Protagoras, and to the Protagoras I decided to devote this course. At any rate, the Protagoras and the Gorgias, that is my premise, seem to belong together in the same way in which sophistry and rhetoric belong together.

Now before turning to the Protagoras, I propose to summarize the chief results of my fall 1963 course on the Gorgias,3 and I have to devote to this subject of the summary at least two meetings, perhaps three. Now the Gorgias consists of three clearly separated parts, and in this respect as well as in other respects it reminds us of the Republic. The Republic, you will recall, consists of the father-son part, the discussion of Socrates with Cephalus and his son Polemarchus; then of the Thrasymachus part; and then of the two brothers’ parts, the bulk of the work, the discussion with Glaucon and Adeimantus. Correspondingly, the Gorgias consists of three parts: a discussion with Gorgias (Gorgias being the most famous orator), with Polus, and with Callicles. The Callicles section is by far the largest and, at first glance the most important, just as in the Republic the Glaucon-Adeimantus section is by far the largest and at first glance the most important. Gorgias and Polus are foreign teachers of rhetoric, Polus being Gorgias’s young adherent. Callicles is a young Athenian about to enter politics. This all corresponds to the Republic: Cephalus and Polemarchus are not Athenian citizens but are metics; and Thrasymachus is of course a foreign teacher of rhetoric; and Glaucon and Adeimantus are Athenians, just as Callicles is an Athenian.

The dialogue begins with the words of Callicles: “War and battle.” No other dialogue begins that way. This indicates that the dialogue is very emphatically polemical, fighting. Socrates attacks rhetoric, and therewith the political life as ordinarily practiced, with the utmost radicalism. The opposition between the philosophic life and the political life as ordinarily understood is the theme of the dialogue Gorgias. The dialogue Gorgias is, furthermore—and I ask you again to read these sixteen pages I wrote about the Platonic dialogue in general, and I make constant use of these remarks here—a voluntary dialogue. Perhaps I’ll explain this briefly. Among the many differences among the dialogues, there is one difference of some importance, between voluntary and compulsory dialogues. A compulsory dialogue is a dialogue into which Socrates is compelled for sheer decency, although he dislikes it. For example, his dialogue with the Athenian dēmos on the occasion of his accusation is surely a compulsory dialogue. But the Charmides is perhaps the most simple example of a dialogue which is voluntary. Socrates has been back from a battle, a war, and he rushes to the gymnasium where the most gifted boys of Athens are, and is so pleased to be back to one of his favorite haunts. Now the Gorgias is a voluntary dialogue. Socrates is eager to speak with Gorgias. He goes to the building where Gorgias is. He is accompanied by his companion, Chaerephon, the same man who went to Delphi to ask the god whether there is anyone wiser than Socrates. But Chaerephon had kept him back in the marketplace so that they missed Gorgias’s exhibition of his art. When Socrates hears that they have come too late, Chaerephon expresses his willingness to repair the damage which he had caused. He is a friend of Gorgias, which means he is closer to Gorgias than Socrates is. But Socrates does not wish to listen to an exhibition of Gorgias’s art, to one of these show speeches for which Gorgias was so famous; but Socrates wants to find out from Gorgias what the power of his art is, and secondly, what claim Gorgias raises regarding his teaching, meaning whether Gorgias believes that he can convey the power of his art to his pupils.

Now this conversation about why Socrates comes and why they came so late takes place outside of the building in which Gorgias stays. When they have entered the building and see Gorgias, Socrates asks Chaerephon to ask Gorgias about his art. Again, Chaerephon is closer to Gorgias than Socrates is. Polus asks Chaerephon to address the questions to him because Gorgias is tired: he has made this long speech. We draw from this a provisional conclusion that Gorgias is not at the peak of his condition. He is tired. We do not get a full and adequate picture of this famous man. Now Polus’s answer to Chaerephon implies that the good life is the life in accordance with art, art in the old sense—craft, handicraft—and art is understood here in contradistinction to chance. To live according to art, to thought, to order, to rule is better than to live at random. And the best life is a life in accordance with the art of rhetoric. Now Socrates is dissatisfied with this answer. He says Polus has not sufficiently practiced the art of dialectics, but practiced too much the art of rhetoric. Polus has praised rhetoric as a wonderful thing, but he has not said what rhetoric is. Dialectics—that is the alternative to rhetoric here—would tell us what rhetoric is. Blaming and praising is the concern of rhetoric; saying what a thing is, that is dialectics. Does this distinction between rhetoric and dialectics remind you of something with which you are familiar outside of Plato in present-day discussion? To say that rhetoric is best is a rhetorical statement. To define rhetoric is a dialectical statement. Yes?

Student: The fact-value distinction.

LS: Yes, and that is very true. The distinction between rhetoric and dialectics has something to do with the present-day distinction between science and nonscience. There is something to that, but still it is misleading. I mean, the two distinctions are not identical. Why? Because according to Socrates you have first to know what rhetoric is before you blame it or praise it. But when you know what it is, you know also its rank and therefore whether it is very noble, medium noble, not very noble, or ignoble. So it is not identical, but there is a certain kinship indeed.

Socrates asks then Gorgias to answer the questions of what the power of his art is, and says that he should give a brief answer. Now this has to do again with the distinction between rhetoric and dialectic, because the rhetorician as such is a maker of long speeches. The dialectician on the other hand is a maker of short speeches: “What did you say?” “Say it again.” “On what grounds?” This is a maker of short speeches. Now in dialectic, every step can be carefully considered, whereas in rhetorical speech what is so important of course is the overall effect of the whole speech, especially on the passions. Now Gorgias claims to be a perfect master of speech, i.e., to be as good at making short speeches as at making long speeches, and therefore he says: Of course, I will oblige you; I will make a short speech. Now this is another handicap of Gorgias. The first handicap was that he gets tired out from his long speeches, the second that he is compelled to give short answers; and the consequence of this and another handicap which we will see soon is that he is unable to state his case for rhetoric, and for his rhetoric in particular.

I am sure there are quite a few among you who say: What does this strange comedy mean? What is the interest of it for us? A perfectly legitimate question, but which I cannot answer now. I mean, either you have a certain confidence that I am not a—how shall I say it? A business? Now how do you call this, a comedian? [Laughter] No—a showbusiness, or you have not.4 Let us therefore wait.

Now Gorgias answers, first: Rhetoric is an art that has to do with speeches. But Socrates says that all art has to do with speeches. For example, medicine has to do with speeches about health, hasn’t it? All speeches deal with some subject matter. An art dealing with speeches which do not deal with subject matter does not exist. Gorgias tries to get out of this fix by saying: Yes, but some arts proceed chiefly through manual work and can be practiced in silence, that is to say without speech, whereas others proceed chiefly or solely through speech. An extreme example: arithmetic. And you can of course also figure silently, but the actual work is when you speak to yourself; whereas the work of a sculptor, his art is practiced silently. He doesn’t have to figure “speakingly.” Rhetoric is one of the arts which proceed chiefly through speeches. But still it must have subject matter. That’s simple. Its subject matter is the greatest and best of human affairs.5 But what are these greatest and best of human affairs? Is not perhaps health the most important thing, or strength, or wealth? Now Socrates argues this out in one form which is to be called a dialogue within the dialogue. In other words, he makes the physician speak in favor of health being the greatest thing. He makes the gymnastics teacher speak in favor of strength or beauty being the best thing, and he makes the moneymaker speak in favor of wealth being the best thing. This means that this dialogue within a dialogue, which is a very common occurrence in Platonic dialogues, has here however a special meaning, a special purpose. And this, by the way, is a general rule. There are a limited number of devices which Plato used. One is, for example, the dialogue within the dialogue. But this may have a very different function in different contexts. Now in this context the function of the dialogue within the dialogue is to show Gorgias his competitors. Gorgias says: I teach the most important thing. And then he shows him the teacher of medicine, who raises the same claim. By reminding Gorgias of his competitors, he adds a third predicament to the two which we have already seen: his tiredness and the compulsion to give brief answers.

A general lesson from this: in doing these things—for example, the dialogue within the dialogue showing these competitors—Socrates himself uses rhetoric, because these are rhetorical devices. Or his dialectics as used here is rhetorical, a mixture of dialectics and rhetoric. And if we may make a big jump, in no way borne out by what I have said now but a kind of hypothesis: the Gorgias, whatever it may do regarding rhetoric, exhibits Socrates’s rhetoric, which is in no way the theme of the dialogue, but it exhibits it in deed.

Now we are still confronted with these questions: What are the greatest human things? What is happiness? And Gorgias says that the good which rhetoric produces is in truth the greatest good and the cause of both freedom and ruling over others in one’s city. For rhetoric enables a man to persuade people by speeches in political assemblies, and thus to control the physicians, the gymnastics teachers, the moneymakers, or whoever may be competitors of the rhetorician. We may say rhetoric is the art of persuading political assemblies about politically relevant matters. That is surely true, but it does not go very deep. Socrates continues as follows: You say rhetoric persuades, but does not the mathematician too persuade? We must make a distinction between teaching and persuading. Rhetoric does not teach as mathematics teaches. It only persuades.

Now while this exchange goes on, there occurs a shift of emphasis to one particular kind of rhetoric: forensic rhetoric, the rhetoric practiced before law courts, the kind of rhetoric which is concerned with just and unjust things as such and which concerns the individual who accuses or is accused. And here in this context the impression is related that just and unjust things are the sole theme of rhetoric. Now after Socrates has led Gorgias to this point, a leading of which Gorgias is fully unaware, he leads him again to political rhetoric proper, to what the Greeks called deliberative rhetoric—that is, what is going on in the assembly where you decide about laws, peace and war, and so on. With an explicit reference to the potential students in the audience, because there are many people around, Socrates induces Gorgias to reveal the immense power of rhetoric. The immense power of rhetoric. Every ambitious student in the audience—potential tyrants, so to speak—must become Gorgias’s pupil if Gorgias succeeds in showing that without his training you will never succeed in the arena, just as today in this country one could perhaps make a case that you have to go to law school, and perhaps to this or that law school if you want to be highly successful—there are some people who would also say through political science departments. But at this moment it seemed to be clear that being trained by Gorgias could be the best way of becoming an outstanding speaker.

The main answer of Gorgias can be reduced to this simple proposition: Rhetoric is quasi-omnipotent. He tells a number of examples of what rhetoricians have achieved both in private life and in public life. In private life, he gives this example: his brother was a physician and could not persuade a patient to take a bitter pill, but he—the rhetorician, Gorgias—succeeded where the physician completely failed.6 And so you see how eminently powerful rhetoric is. So after having made clear how powerful rhetoric is, he can’t help disregarding the drawback of that very power: because it is so powerful it is naturally feared and distrusted, and therefore the teachers of rhetoric are in danger of being expelled from the cities and even killed.7 Gorgias says that is very deplorable, because every art can be misused. I mean, a gymnastic teacher, for example, wants to teach the boy so that he will be a good soldier later on, etc., but if this boy hits his father you can’t blame the gymnastic teacher for that. Similarly, if a student of rhetoric misuses his art, that’s not the fault of the professor of rhetoric, and he must not be blamed for that. In brief, rhetoric can be used unjustly, but it ought not to be used unjustly. In itself it is as just as gymnastics, which also can be misused.

Now Socrates goes on as follows. What does the power of rhetoric then mean? The orator is superior to the expert, to the knower (for example, to the physician), especially in persuading crowds, i.e., ignoramuses, he himself being also an ignoramus, let us say, in the matter of weaponry. And the experts have a certain opinion. Let us assume that the experts are not split, but the experts have no power of persuading crowds. I mean, they can talk to other experts. So there must be someone who has no knowledge but only some information given to him by the experts, and he talks. He is an ignoramus, he talks to ignoramuses, and that’s that. This is not a denial of the power of rhetoric, of course, but only a spelling out of what that power means. Ultimately, the power of rhetoric has to do with the superior bodily power of the large mass of ignoramuses over the small minority of non-ignoramuses.

Yet Socrates proceeds to question the power of rhetoric itself by raising this question: Is the orator also ignorant of the just and unjust, the base and ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Note on the Leo Strauss Transcript Project
• Editorial Headnote
• Introduction
• 1  Sophistry and Rhetoric: Plato’s Gorgias Reconsidered
• 2  Callicles’s Challenge to Socrates in the Gorgias
• 3  Sophistry, Rhetoric, and the Philosophic Life
• 4  The Turn to the Protagoras (309a–312b)
• 5  Meeting Protagoras (312b–316c)
• 6  Is Virtue Teachable? (316c–320c)
• 7  The Long Speech of Protagoras: Mythos (320c–322d)
• 8  The Long Speech of Protagoras: Mythos and Logos (322d–325b)
• 9  The Long Speech of Protagoras, Teacher of Virtue (325b–329d)
• 10  The Cross-Examination of Protagoras: Virtue and Its Parts (329d–335c)
• 11  The First Breakdown of the Conversation and Its Aftermath (335c–341c)
• 12  Virtue in the Element of Poetry (341c–347c)
• 13  What Is Courage? (347c–352e)
• 14  On the Hedonism of the Many (352e–356c)
• 15  The Hedonistic Calculus and the Problem of Courage (356c–359c)
• 16  Courage, Hedonism, and the Refutation of Protagoras (359c–362a)
• 17  Summary and Conclusion: Rhetoric and Sophistry
• Notes
• Index