So, Charmides, I said, this time pay closer attention, turn away (from other things) to look into yourself,Footnote 1 think about what kind of person temperance by its presence makes you, and what sort of thing temperance would have to be in order to make you that kind of person, and taking all this into account tell me, well and bravely, what it appears to you to be. And he, after holding back a little and after thinking things through to himself very manfully, said: ‘Well, it seems to me that temperance makes a person feel ashamed or bashful, and that temperance is the same as a sense of shame’.
Socrates’ exhortation to Charmides accords with the ‘best method’ (158e6–7).Footnote 3 He asks the youth to attend more carefully to his own sense of himself in order to register the causal effect of temperance in him and hence determine the nature of the virtue (160d5–8). Again, all that Charmides is expected to do is articulate a belief based on direct awareness. As on the previous occasion, so on this one the belief will be submitted to dialectical examination. Now, however, Socrates raises the bar a little higher. He urges Charmides to look more carefully into himself (mallon: 160d5) and uses the term ‘apemblepsas’ (160d6)Footnote 4 – literally ‘looking away from something and into something else’ – to indicate that Charmides should try harder to switch his attention away (apo-) from external things and inwards (en-) towards himself.
What should Charmides look away from? Given the socio-political connotations of the conception of temperance as a sort of hêsychiotês, doing things quietly or unobtrusively, it is probable that Socrates is inviting the youth to put such external considerations aside in order to concentrate solely on his own sense of the virtue. In addition, Socrates is encouraging the young man to try to assess and reflect on his own sense of himself: ‘take all this into account [syllogisamenos: 160d8] and tell me again, well and bravely, what [temperance] appears to you to be’ (160d). Although he does not explain what exactly ‘syllogisamenos’, ‘taking into account’, entails in this context, his earlier outline of the ‘best method’ suggests that he is asking Charmides to consider together his own sense of temperance in himself, the kind of person that, according to his own belief, temperance turned him into, and, consequently, the kind of thing that temperance is. Hence, Socrates indicates to his young friend that the method that they are following does not merely rely on one’s intuitive awareness of oneself, but also crucially involves reflection and reasoning. Whatever belief Charmides ends up expressing about the nature of sôphrosynê won’t reflect his own awareness of the virtue in an unmediated manner, but will be the outcome of a rational process engaging different aspects of himself.
Socrates stresses this latter element when he tells Charmides that, after he has considered the matter, he should speak eu, well, and andreiôs, bravely (160d8–e1). Both adverbs are evaluative and require comment. Is Charmides supposed to speak well as opposed to badly, and what might this mean? Also, why is the virtue of andreia, courage, evoked at this point? According to Drew Hyland, what Socrates is really inviting Charmides to do is to enter a philosophical life of self-examination; this decision takes courageFootnote 5 as well as clarity of thought; in fact, sôphrosynê is interconnected with courage, and also self-knowledge and the examined life.Footnote 6 It is true, I think, that the passage can be read as containing a hint about the unity of virtue: if Charmides has one virtue, temperance, he can be assumed also to do things bravely (andreiôs) and, generally, kat’aretên, in accordance with virtue.Footnote 7 But Socrates’ exhortation can be best understood in a simpler way.Footnote 8 Charmides was initially hesitant to answer the question of whether or not he had sôphrosynê and, when he finally brought himself to do so, the belief that he expressed about the nature of temperance was refuted. Therefore, Socrates suspects that his young partner may now be even more reluctant to speak his mind for fear of defeat. For this reason he urges Charmides to speak ‘well and bravely’: in earnest, without beating around the bush and without dreading the possibility of being refuted again. Once again, the youth’s reaction appears promising. According to the narrator, he withdrew for a moment to think things throughFootnote 9 and then responded andrikôs, manfully, to the question as it had most recently been put to him: temperance, he says, makes the person who has it feel ashamed (aischynesthai) or bashful (aischyntêlon), and it is this very thing, i.e. a sense of shame (aidôs) (160e4–5).Footnote 10 Perhaps Charmides took the point: what requires courage is not only the process of introspective examination, but also the decision to make the result of this latter known to others and submit it to critical scrutiny.
1
To begin our discussion, we should note that, on this occasion, the interlocutors spell out an important assumption grounding the ‘best method of enquiry’: a causal relation holds between the presence of sôphrosynê in oneself and the corresponding disposition that one has or, in the end, the sort of person that one is. Specifically, this time Socrates asks Charmides not merely to register his sense of himself and state the belief that this feeling gives rise to, but rather to consider carefully what kind of man sôphrosynê causes him to be.Footnote 11 Then, in accordance with the principle fully developed in the Phaedo, i.e. that like causes like, he suggests that, by looking at the effect of temperance on himself, Charmides will be able to infer the nature of the cause. The young man meets this challenge in a very precise and unambiguous manner: temperance causes one to aischynesthai, feel ashamed, and be aischyntêlos, have the tendency of feeling ashamed, and, therefore, it seems reasonable to inferFootnote 12 that the cause responsible for the inclination to feel aischynê, ‘shame’, as well as the occurrence of actual feelings of aischynê, is aidôs, ‘a sense of shame’. Presumably, given Plato’s prevailing view of causation, the cause must be essentially akin to these latter. If so, Charmides’ claim can be taken to imply that the aidôs present in oneself is a deeply set disposition responsible for the corresponding occurrent feelings and, to a greater or lesser extent, for a certain behavioural pattern as well. There is extensive secondary literature on aidôs and its close ties to sôphrosynê,Footnote 13 but nonetheless it will be useful to say a few things about that notion.
Although ‘aidôs’ is conventionally rendered as ‘shame’ or ‘a sense of shame’, it also captures central aspects of what we call guilt.Footnote 14 Primarily, ‘aidôs’ is about being exposed, vulnerable, or humiliated, in the eyes of others, especially in the eyes of people whose opinion matters to us.Footnote 15 It involves fear not merely of what other people think, but of not living up to our own standards. The other’s ‘gaze’ can be personal or collective, real or imagined. The presence of aidôs involves the assumption that there is a set of ethical attitudes whose value one recognises and shares with others.Footnote 16 When one violates such ethical values and norms, one experiences feelings of shame and tends to adopt avoidance-behaviour. One desires to hide away, disappear, even die. As for actual or fictional spectators who witness the shameful act, they too tend to avoid the agent or the scene of action, and experience derision and contempt. But also, aidôs has to do, so to speak, with an inner voice of judgement that one hears when one perceives oneself as having wronged another. While we feel shame because we have fallen short of a standard that we recognise as our own, typically we feel guilt because we have done something that has had a significantly adverse impact on someone else. In cases where this impact becomes known, the reactions triggered in other members of the community are overtly negative: deep resentment, indignation, rage.
Whether aidôs indicates both shame and guilt or shame alone, it was commonly taken to bear crucially on sôphrosynê. One’s desire to live up to the standard of the ‘imagined gaze’, which one recognises as one’s own, constitutes a strong motive for exercising self-control and refraining from certain sorts of actions, while engaging in others. Generally, temperate actions dictated by aidôs involve principles as well as precepts: agents follow what they perceive as requirements of morality, but are also attentive to social rules and matters of etiquette.Footnote 17 The heady blend of sôphrosynê, aidôs, and manly courage that we find in our passage was also part of the value system of the philo-Laconian aristocracy of fifth-century Athens, to which Plato’s family belonged.Footnote 18 Such qualities were objects of high praise, and many believed them to be related to a modest and self-controlled behaviour, respect for the opinions of others,Footnote 19 deference to authority, and an unwillingness to expose oneself and risk ridicule. On the downside, these attitudes could be in tension with intellectual initiative, critical spirit, and the desire to determine one’s own identity and mode of life. In general, prevailing conceptions of sôphrosynê and aidôs could act as impediments to the development of one’s potential and cause one’s character to be formed unreflectively, in accordance with dominant values and norms. In sum, even though Charmides’ second definition of temperance in terms of aidôs points more deeply to one’s inner world than his first definition does, there is continuity between them. Doing things quietly, unobtrusively, decorously is closely related to doing things modestly and in conformity to an internalised social and ethical code. Aidôs as well as hêsychiotês indicates a distinctive manner of acting, but the former more than the latter chiefly concerns the perceptions, feelings, beliefs, and other attitudes related to shame and, to some extent, guilt as well.
2
But, I retorted, did you not agree a little while ago that temperance is admirable [kalon]? – I certainly did, he answered. – Is it not also the caseFootnote 20 that the temperate are good [agathoi] men? – Yes. – And could anything be good that does not make people good? – Of course not. – Hence, temperance is not only admirable [kalon] but also good [agathon]. – So at least it seems to me. – But then, I said, don’t you believe that Homer speaks correctly, when he says that ‘a sense of shame is no good [agathê] companion for a man in need’? – I do believe so, he replied. – So, as it seems, a sense of shame is both not good and good. – Apparently. – Temperance, however, is just good, if it makes good those in whom it is present and doesn’t make them bad. – It certainly seems to me that things stand exactly as you say. – It follows, then, that temperance could not be a sense of shame, if it is in fact good, while a sense of shame is no more good than bad. – Well, Socrates, he said, I do think that this is correctly stated.
The refutation of Charmides’ second definition has received remarkably mixed reactions. Regarding its logical structure, for instance, Lutoslawski claims that the argument marks a turning point in the development of Plato’s logic and is a correct syllogism of the form Cesare. On the other hand, John Beversluis describes it as ‘one of the lamest arguments in the early dialogues’Footnote 21 and suggests ways in which the argument might have been saved. From an ethical point of view, some commentators praise its moral and pedagogical value for a number of reasons: e.g. it impresses upon Charmides the importance of the care of oneself,Footnote 22 or extends the limits of the youth’s knowledge by exposing inconsistencies in the ethics of shame,Footnote 23 or brings Charmides to realise that his virtue is only partially developed.Footnote 24 Others, however, highlight the limitations of the young man’s conventional thinking,Footnote 25 or his dialectical inadequacy, or also the arbitrary character of the distinctions and inferences drawn by Socrates.Footnote 26 In particular, the main areas of controversy concern, first, the logic of the argument; second, the counterexample on account of which the definition is abandoned; and third, the lesson that we are to draw.Footnote 27
Let us start with the reconstruction of the argument on account of which Charmides abandons his claim that temperance is aidôs. According to Lutoslawski, the argument is the following: temperance is a good; aidôs is not a good; hence aidôs is not temperance.Footnote 28 Tuckey’s articulation is closer to the text: sôphrosynê is invariably good; aidôs is not invariably good; hence sôphrosynê is not aidôs.Footnote 29 In fact, however, this elenchus is considerably more complex and more problematic, and it is important to lay it out in detail in order to assess its faults or merits. I propose the following reconstruction:
(1) Definition: temperance is aidôs (160e4–5).
(2) Temperance is kalon, admirable (160e6–7; cf. 159c1–2).
(3) In addition,Footnote 30 temperate men are agathoi, good (160e9).
(4a) If something causes men to be good, it must itself be invariably good (causal assumption).
(4b) Conversely, if something does not have the power to cause men to be agathoi, good, it cannot itself be invariably agathon, good (160e11).Footnote 31
(5) Since temperance causes men to be good and doesn’t cause them to be bad, it is invariably agathon, good (161a8–9).
(6) Hence, temperance is something kalon, admirable, and invariably agathon, good (160e13).
(7) If temperance is aidôs, aidôs must be kalon, admirable, and invariably agathon, good.
(8) But Homer is right that, in at least one type of case, aidôs is not agathon, good: it is not good for a man in need (161a2–4).
(9) Hence aidôs is no more good than not good: it is good in some contexts but not good in others.
(10) So aidôs is not invariably good.
(11) Therefore, temperance is not aidôs.
As the argument indicates, (1) involves the assumption that sôphrosynê and aidôs must share their essential characteristics in common, if the latter is to define the former. (2) has been established at 159c1–2 and is reiterated at 160e6–7. I take it that (3) is not an inferenceFootnote 32 but is presented as an additional, self-evident fact.Footnote 33 Accordingly, the claim at 160e13 probably means: it has now been shown that temperance is not only kalon, admirable (as established at 160e6–7), but also, on new independent grounds, agathon, good ((5) below). Even if some might question that temperate people are good people, the tale of Zalmoxis strongly suggests that this is the case, and Charmides could hardly disagree given his values and upbringing. Premises (4a) and (4b) are grounded on a prominent causal assumption of Plato’s Socrates: (4a) if something causes something else to be F, it must itself be F. Conversely, (4b), if something does not have the causal power to make another thing F, it cannot itself be F. This assumption is particularly prominent in (5), namely the claim that if temperance makes (poiei: 160a8) men good and does not make them bad, then temperance is invariably good (161a8–9).Footnote 34 Compare the last argument of the Phaedo, where the soul’s being essentially alive is linked to the fact that whatever the soul is present in is thereby caused to be alive (Phd. 105b–107a). The claim in (6) is an interim conclusion: temperance is invariably good, as well as admirable. It paves the way to (7): if aidôs is the same thing as temperance, it must be assumed to have the same (essential) properties as this latter. Hence aidôs too must be invariably good as well as admirable.Footnote 35 However, (8) advances a counterexample intended to establish (9), namely that aidôs is no more good than not good and, therefore, (10): unlike sôphrosynê, aidôs is not invariably good. Most of the dialectical work is done not on the basis of the assumption that temperance and aidôs are both good, but on the basis of the contention that, while temperance is invariably good, aidôs can also be not good. Since the counterexample in (8) is absolutely pivotal for the refutation of Charmides’ definition, and also extremely controversial in the literature, it should receive further attention.
Let us remind ourselves of the specific context in which Homer is brought into the argument. Having established that temperance is not only admirable but also good (160e13), Socrates asks Charmides: ‘don’t you believe that Homer speaks correctly when he says that “aidôs is no good companion for a man in need”?’Footnote 36 And the youth confirms, without hesitation, that he does believe this (161a5). The verse that Socrates cites is from the Odyssey: Telemachus sends advice to the beggar in the palace hall, who is Odysseus in disguise, to go around and beg the suitors for his meal, for ‘aidôs is no good companion for a man in need’ (XVII, 347). Telemachus’ message is ambiguous on many levels, since Odysseus is the king and not a beggar, and his real need is to reclaim what belongs to him and not to beg for food. Insofar as Telemachus’ message concerns the beggar, it advises him to suppress his sense of shame and beg the suitors to give him something to eat. Insofar as Telemachus is addressing his father, he exhorts him to keep his counsel and not let aidôs and, presumably, his love of honour cancel his longer-term plans to retrieve his own. The same holds for Telemachus himself as well: he is reminding himself that he simply cannot afford to heed his sense of shame and honour, but must swallow his pride and allow the suitors to mistreat Odysseus in his own home.Footnote 37 Likewise, Socrates’ use of the Homeric verse is susceptible to multiple interpretations regarding some hidden message that it is supposed to convey. For example, on one view, the Homeric citation aims to suggest that, since Socrates is a man who is needy like the beggar, he must conduct himself like Odysseus, i.e. he must be shameless and stealthy and polytropos in order to fulfil his destiny.Footnote 38 On another view, as Telemachus, who is in the know regarding the beggar’s identity, intends his message to mean that Odysseus should leave aidôs aside and take care of his own needs by recovering what is rightfully his own, so Charmides must take the advice to heart and become concerned, in a fundamental way, with the care of himself.Footnote 39 Another set of suggestions is that Socrates’ return to Athens recalls Odysseus’ return to Ithaca,Footnote 40 Charmides’ character is modelled on the character of Telemachus,Footnote 41 and the Homeric citation has the purpose of reminding Charmides that he should struggle to overcome his aidôs and achieve the virtues of manhood as Telemachus tells himself he must.Footnote 42
These parallels are interesting and useful. They embed Charmides’ conception of temperance as aidôs in a rich and layered cultural background and draw connections between the perspectives formed by the latter and the perspective of Socratic philosophy and pedagogy. Nonetheless, worries still remain. First, does a single counterexample constitute adequate grounds for refuting the definition under examination? And, second, does the argument get compromised by Socrates’ appeal to the authority of Homer and Charmides’ unreflective acceptance of that authority?
Regarding the former of these issues, I believe that Socrates’ move is logically justified and dialectically successful. Since Charmides claims that the relation between temperance and aidôs is a relation of identity,Footnote 43 even a single exception suffices to refute the definition. If sôphrosynê were the same as aidôs, every property possessed by one of them would also be possessed by the other. Homer’s verse, however, suggests that there is at least one property that sôphrosynê essentially has but aidôs does not: temperance is invariably good, whereas aidôs can be not good as well as good. There isn’t anything wrong or irregular about the brevity of this refutation.Footnote 44 Its point is clear and Charmides grasps it at once.Footnote 45
Regarding the latter charge, i.e. that Socrates appeals to authority or that Charmides relies on it, first of all, it is simply not true that Socrates does anything of the kind. He is not asking Charmides whether he trustsFootnote 46 Homer to be making an admirable point, nor does he intimate that the young man ought to accept Telemachus’ claim on the basis of authority. Rather, he asks the youth whether or not he believesFootnote 47 that claim to be correct. Hence Socrates is not guilty of a dubious pedagogical strategy, but can be taken to encourage the young man to reconsider his belief.
What about Charmides, however? Does he do as badly as he is accused of doing, notably because he does not challenge Homer,Footnote 48 but also because he does not resist the premise that sôphrosynê is kalon by appealing to the priority of definition?Footnote 49 Taking these questions in reverse order, Plato’s portrayal of Charmides makes it appear highly unlikely that he would question the claim that temperance is kalon. In addition to his noble upbringing and to Critias’ description of him as the most temperate of youths, he has tacitly accepted the Zalmoxian contention that temperance is a supremely admirable thing, and has explicitly agreed on an earlier occasion (159c1–2) to the premise that temperance is kalon. Overall, it seems clear that the young man truly holds the belief that temperance is an admirable, good, and beneficial thing. If he had refused to concede the premise that temperance is kalon, he would have acted disingenuously and in bad faith. Moreover, there is no hint that Charmides is au courant with the issue of the priority of definition, and it would be strange if he were. For he is very young, has begun his dialectical training not long ago, and has not been around Socrates since he was a child (so he has not heard him talk about the priority of definition). It is not reasonable to criticise him for failing to object to Socrates that they cannot assert that sôphrosynê is kalon before they determine what sôphrosynê is.Footnote 50 An experienced debater could make this move, but not Charmides.
It is more difficult to address the charge that Charmides relies unreflectively on Homer’s authority and accepts without proof that aidôs is not good for a man in need.Footnote 51 On the one hand, we can safely assume that Charmides knows his Homer and finds quite credible the counterexample drawn from the Odyssey. His attitude is not unreflective. He can see for himself that, if the beggar/Odysseus had indulged his feelings of shame and honour and had attacked the suitors, he would have risked his own life and the lives of his wife and son, and he would have been morally blameworthy by virtue of doing so. Instead, he let the suitors humiliate him without reacting to the insults and, in doing so, he acted without aidôs but, presumably, with sôphrosynê. On the other hand, Charmides does not push this matter further. He does not appear to entertain the possibility that Homer may be wrong and aidôs may be an admirable thing even for beggars. And even if such a thought had crossed his mind, it seems unlikely that he would have pursued it to the point of openly contradicting Homer.Footnote 52 The reason lies, precisely, in his aidôs, which gives beauty to his appearance (158c5–6) but, nonetheless, can prevent him from acquiring a beautiful soul. Neither the narrator nor the characters of the narrated episode are yet in a position to know whether Charmides will eventually be able to put aside his aidôs and ask the sort of ‘shameless’ questions that could improve his soul and make it temperate.
To take stock, Charmides’ second attempt to define temperance is not implausible; the argument by which the definition is refuted is quite good. Charmides makes considerable progress by defining temperance in terms of aidôs – a dispositional characteristic commonly believed to accompany sôphrosynê and valued by many in its own right. Moreover, the youth follows the argument with ease and understands the ostensible point of Homer’s citation. The fact that he does not try to deny the premise that temperance is kalon indicates both decency and a gentle and cooperative spirit regarding the investigation. To be sure, his prompt acceptance of Homer’s claim may be due to excessive reverence for the great poet and possibly a tendency to accept authoritative claims. However, it need not be unreflective, and it probably is not. On balance, it seems unfair to conclude that Charmides ‘has not escaped the conventional and in all likelihood never will’.Footnote 53 Rather, he shows some promise, and we might have had reason to be optimistic about the youth’s future, were it not for Critias’ imposing figure looming large in the background.
Open access