A Socratic Error
It is interesting how the mind organizes, packages, and recalls memories with varying degrees of clarity. When looking back, college shaped my career—and life—in many ways that now seem quite clear. I remember checking the election results early in the fall to find I had been elected one of the freshmen representatives on Student Senate. This was fortuitous for many reasons, though most important was serving with the woman who would one day be my wife.
Another memory that I have called upon often took root during an independent study entitled, “Political Ideologies.” I decided before my junior year to add political science as a second major and needed the philosophy course to complete my degree. The class was unavailable, but one of my professors, Dr. Bret Billet, was kind enough to teach the content in a one-on-one format. Though demanding, the discussions forced me to prepare a daily defense for what I knew. It was rigorous and invaluable.
We discussed a wide variety of political systems and spent a great deal of time on Plato’s Republic and other Socratic dialogues. Plato’s writings shaped not only my thinking on governance but also my approach to learning, participation in meetings, and even mere conversation. The memory of unpacking the text remains just as clear as seeing my first election results in writing.
There was a sequence between Socrates and his companions that I remembered as jovial banter. The culminating point occurred after Socrates summarized an idea, and his friend chided him with a response along the lines of “that’s so like you, Socrates. Listen in silence and then summarize everything as if it were your own idea.” This idea of listening well and synthesizing struck me as the ideal approach in many settings—particularly law school.
While my memory from college served me well as sound advice, it unfortunately belied the actual text from The Republic. As I prepared to cite the text, I could not find the sequence in my books. I subsequently sought the advice of an expert.
Dr. Ruby Blondell,[1] Professor of Classics at the University of Washington, focuses on Greek intellectual history, and she steered me to the following passage in Plato’s Republic:
Thrasymachus: Here you have the wisdom of Socrates, to refuse himself to teach, but go about and learn from others and not even pay thanks therefor.
Socrates: That I learn from others, you said truly, Thrasymachus. But in saying that I do not pay thanks you are mistaken. I pay as much as I am able. And I am able only to bestow praise. For money I lack. But that I praise right willingly those who appear to speak well you will well know forthwith as soon as you have given your answer. For I think that you will speak well.
Thrasymachus: Hearken and hear then. I affirm that the just is nothing else than the advantage of the stronger. Well, why don't you applaud? Nay, you'll do anything but that.[2]
Dr. Blondell added: “The general point you are arguing—the importance of listening carefully and exchanging ideas thoughtfully—is highly Socratic/Platonic, and in fact is the foundation of the Socratic Method. But I don’t think that’s the point of your specific passage.” And so the clarity of my memory proved hazier than I recalled.
But my error perhaps illustrates my original objective better than my memory of Plato’s writing. The conclusions of a singular mind are far inferior to the results when multiple minds can endeavor together. Whether early in one’s career or advanced, another perspective can yield great benefit when used to refine one’s work.
The need for collaboration is important in the workplace, but it is even more essential when establishing policy. There are many reasons why so many words flow from mouth and paper on the topic of government. First, the subject is important because it affects so many. Second, the answers are seldom clear. Even Israel once decided on a monarchy with the explanation: “God, you’ve been a pretty solid king, but we have a better idea to really make this country hum.”[3] Evaluating how a single law—even a simple one—will work in practice is a great unknown with imprecise indicators of cause and effect. It follows that hearty debate will accompany any proposals on changing our laws.
Yet this is where my memory of Plato’s Republic is so important. Before the debate occurs, we must all listen. Not listening for a chance to lecture on a preconceived belief but listening to hear. As Stravinsky observed, even a duck can hear; “to listen is an effort.”[4] I am passionate about policy and politics, but despite working hard to know the subject, I lean on another more common misquote of Socrates in that “I know that I know nothing.”[5]
This knowledge makes it far easier to lean on the wisdom of others with humility and openness. There are many fingerprints on this column from others who helped shape the end result. In addition to Dr. Blondell, my wife, Tara, and my sister, Anne Summers, both offered their feedback and edits. The KBA staff took my words and continued refining. And this all stacks on top of a foundation provided by my parents, teachers, and countless colleagues along the way. Perhaps if I continue in my effort to listen well, I might someday retain an actual quote from Socrates and find that maybe I know just a bit beyond nothing.
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[1] Thank you to Dr. Blondell for lending time and expertise during my treasure hunt. I greatly appreciate the help.
[2] Plato. Republic. Trans. Benjamin Jowett. The Internet Classics Archive. Web Atomic and Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Available at www.classics.mit.edu/Plato/republic.html.
[3] 1 Samuel 8 (paraphrased).
[4] Interview by Deborah Ishlon with Igor Stravinsky (referenced in Stephen Walsh Stravinsky: The Second Exile: France and America, 1934-1971 (2010)).
[5] Gail Fine, "Does Socrates Claim to Know that He Knows Nothing?", Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy vol. 35 (2008), pp. 49–88. Available at: www.mohamedrabeea.com/books/book1_10581.pdf.
Originally Published in the April 2017 Kansas Bar Journal
