However, he was convinced that this methodology helped people get closer to their underlying beliefs and the extent of their knowledge. In particular, it unveiled the limitations of their knowledge. By its nature, therefore, the Socratic method is a negative method of hypothesis elimination: as people steadily identify and eliminate those hypotheses that lead to contradiction, better and more resilient hypotheses emerge. During this process, the participants are invariably forced to examine their own belief systems – as well as their value systems – and where necessary revise them. As a result, a Socratic dialogue, once embarked on, becomes a rich and empowering form of conversation, leading to unexpectedly new and radical ideas.
It is highly unlikely that Socratic dialogue on its own posed a threat to the bitter remnants of the Athenian Empire. Nevertheless, it is undeniable that some of those who engaged in this form of dialogue became so adept at political debate that they could run rings around the unbending supporters of the status quo of the Athenian state. It is furthermore clear that, at a cruder level, the powers that be needed a scapegoat to answer for their downfall. “If you’re not for us, you’re against us”, was their battle cry. All Socrates wanted was a better version of the truth. He wasn’t so much a dissident as an asker of awkward and embarrassing questions. His reward for soliciting answers which were at variance with the official dogma was that damning description heard then, and now: enemy of the State.
And so it was that a public court found him guilty and he was sentenced to die by his own hand – a state-mandated suicide. He would ingest hemlock, a neurotoxin that disrupts the central nervous system. Death would be gradual as the poison crawled its way through the system, slowly robbing the extremities of the body of life and movement, turning it cold and rigid in its wake; and then eventually reaching the heart, insidiously crushing it, causing it to collapse.
It has often been asked why Socrates went to his death so peacefully; after all, he had other options, one being to escape. His followers had bribed the prison guards who were willing to assist in this regard. He could have then fled from Athens. Yet instead he chose to drink hemlock knowing that it would kill him. His reasons, as he presented them to his followers, were, typically, philosophical in nature. He said that, as a citizen of Athens, he fully accepted that one should abide by its laws, even if they demanded an unjust punishment. Such an approach represented a ‘contract’ with the State. Should he break that contract he would harm society as a whole, something that was contrary to the Socratic code. He also said that true philosophers should not fear death, especially if in life they had achieved a measure of wisdom beyond their peers.
You have to hand it to Socrates for his conservative attitude towards the law and his acceptance of his fate. Given his disposition to argue the toss on everything, he must have harboured ambivalent feelings towards the people who had condemned him, and the fairness of his sentence. Yet he took it like a man – a remarkable man for any era and any generation. Fortunately for us, he passed on his methodology to Plato who laid it all out in his early works. And the torch still burns today, as you will see.
2 The Legendary Dialogue: Socrates & the Fox
Really, Ischomachus, I am disposed to ask: “Does teaching consist in putting questions?” Indeed, the secret of your system has just this instant dawned upon me. I seem to see the principle in which you put your questions. You lead me through the field of my own knowledge, and then by pointing out analogies to what I know, persuade me that I really know some things which hitherto, as I believed, I had no knowledge of.
SOCRATES, as quoted by Xenophon in Oeconomicus (The Economist) as translated by H G Dakyns.
Legend has it that shortly before his trial Socrates uncharacteristically left his students and followers and walked into some nearby woods on the outskirts of Athens. He wandered awhile before finding a place where the sun trickled through the trees and created a swathe of dappled light around a fallen, mossy log. He sat upon the log, closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
Completely isolated from human contact, he searched deep within himself with the intention of finding the true wisdom that had eluded him for so long. At the point when he almost lost complete consciousness of his surroundings, he became acutely aware that he was not alone. He glanced up to see that a fox was nearby, watching him. The filtered sun bathed the fox in an incandescent light, its fiery red coat seeming to shimmer and its white underbelly looking rich and silvery. Its amber eyes were fixed upon Socrates. It displayed no fear. The fox was clearly unperturbed by his presence; in fact it seemed more intrigued than worried. It slowly cocked its head to one side and stared intently at the quiet man before it.
Socrates’ inquiring eye examined the creature in return. It was lean and hardy, its athletic form forged from a life of continual quest. Yet it also commanded the grace and poise of pampered nobility. Its angular features had been honed through constant searching and foraging. It had a cold and piercing hunter’s eye, and yet its soft fur gave it a gentle and caring demeanour.
For a while they both looked at each other, each seeking a reason for the other’s presence. Socrates sensed that the fox was asking him something. Was it possible, Socrates asked himself. He slowly shifted his weight, leaned slightly forward, extended both his open hands and in a polite but firm whisper, asked, “Does my presence concern you?”
The fox seemed to smile. “Perhaps I should ask,” retorted the fox, “does my presence concern you?”
Socrates smiled back, gently shook his head and said, “Not at all.” Indeed, he felt a deep and fulfilled calm wash over him in the presence of an intellect that obviously matched his. “I have been continually questioning anything and everything, hoping to find answers, and that’s what finds me here,” he added.
“I, too, search continually, and sometimes, in the process of meeting paradoxes and contradictions along the way, I find what I am looking for.”
“Then,” said Socrates, “knowing your reputation for quick-witted and agile thinking, you may be the one finally to help me”. As Socrates looked at the fox to confirm the seriousness of his intent to engage him, the creature slowly cocked its head once more and met his gaze. At that moment they both realised that just as they had stumbled across each other, so had they found themselves. There was much to talk about. And so started a dialogue between Socrates and the fox.
The Dialogue
FOX: Most philosophers start by asking: “What is the meaning of existence?”
SOCRATES: I don’t. For whatever species you are, how can you define the meaning or purpose of your existence unless you fully understand the context in which you exist?
FOX: You mean in my case understanding how the forest works. For instance, the relationships between the various animals inhabiting it and the impact they individually and collectively have on the environment.
SOCRATES: Yes, but also the impact that the environment has on them. For example, my present surroundings have created a deep sense of tranquillity in me. However, when I’m in the busy streets of Athens, the hustle and bustle excites me. A rule of existence is that wherever you go, and whatever people you encounter, you leave something behind and take something away with you. We are all elements of a system in a continual state of interaction and mutual influence, as our minds are with our bodies.
FOX: So I’m leaving a lasting impression on you with this conversation, as I know you are now doing on me?
SOCRATES: Correct. But to get back to your original comment, my first question is always: “Why are you what you presently are? What mixture of natural-born qualities and experiences since birth has made you into the animal, or in my case the person, you are today?” It’s a question of fact, because we are dealing with the past. I am asking you to trace the single unique line between the moment you came into being till now. Think about all the influences on your life so far – positive, negative, neutral – which have conspired to get you to this location at this point in time.
FOX: That question would take longer to answer than I have time for, given the necessity for me to be constantly on the move in daylight hours. But, yes, I was born a fox