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How Socrates Got His Reputation: The Oracle of ApolloAn Excerpt from the Apology of Plato
Socrates: I dare say, Athenians, that some one among you will reply, “Yes, Socrates, but what is the origin of these accusations which are brought against you? There must have been something strange which you have been doing? All these rumors and this talk about you would never have arisen if you had been like other men: tell us, then, what is the cause of them, for we should be sorry to judge hastily of you.”
Now I regard this as a fair challenge, and I will endeavor to explain to
you the reason why I am called wise and have such an evil fame. Please
to attend then. And although some of you may think that I am joking, I
declare that I will tell you the entire truth.
Men of Athens, this reputation of mine has come of a certain sort of
wisdom which I possess . . . And here, O men of Athens, I must beg you
not to interrupt me, even if I seem to say something extravagant. For
the word which I will speak is not mine. I will refer you to a witness
who is worthy of credit. That witness shall be the God of Delphi. He
will tell you about my wisdom, if I have any, and of what sort it is.
You must have known Chaerephon. He was early a friend of mine, and also
a friend of yours, for he shared in the recent exile of the people, and
returned with you. Well, Chaerephon, as you know, was very impetuous in
all his doings, and he went to Delphi and boldly asked the oracle to
tell him whether—as I was saying, I must beg you not to interrupt—he
asked the oracle to tell him whether anyone was wiser than I was, and
the Pythian prophetess answered that there was no man wiser. Chaerephon
is dead himself; but his brother, who is in court, will confirm the
truth of what I am saying. Why do I mention this? Because I am going to explain to you why I have such an evil name. When I heard the answer, I said to myself, What can the god mean? and what is the interpretation of his riddle? For I know that I have no wisdom, small or great. What then can he mean when he says that I am the wisest of men? And yet he is a god, and cannot lie. That would be against his nature. After long consideration, I thought of a method of trying the question. I reflected that if I could only find a man wiser than myself, then I might go to the god with a refutation in my hand. I should say to him, “Here is a man who is wiser than I am; but you said that I was the wisest.”
Accordingly I went to one who had the reputation of wisdom, and observed
him—his name I need not mention; he was a politician whom I selected for
examination—and the result was as follows: When I began to talk with
him, I could not help thinking that he was not really wise, although he
was thought wise by many, and still wiser by himself; and thereupon I
tried to explain to him that he thought himself wise, but was not really
wise; and the consequence was that he hated me, and his enmity was
shared by several who were present and heard me. So I left him, saying
to myself, as I went away: Well, although I do not suppose that either
of us knows anything really beautiful and good, I am better off than he
is,—for he knows nothing, and thinks that he knows; I neither know nor
think that I know. In this latter particular, then, I seem to have
slightly the advantage of him. Then I went to another who had still
higher pretensions to wisdom, and my conclusion was exactly the same.
Whereupon I made another enemy of him, and of many others besides him.
Then I went to one man after another, being not unconscious of the
enmity which I provoked, and I lamented and feared this: but necessity
was laid upon me,—the word of God, I thought, ought to be considered
first. And I said to myself, Go I must to all who appear to know, and
find out the meaning of the oracle. And I swear to you, Athenians, by
the dog I swear!—for I must tell you the truth—the result of my mission
was just this: I found that the men most in repute were all but the most
foolish; and that others less esteemed were really wiser and better.
I will tell you the tale of my wanderings and of the “Herculean” labors,
as I may call them, which I endured only to find at last the oracle
irrefutable. After the politicians, I went to the poets; tragic,
dithyrambic, and all sorts. And there, I said to myself, you will be
instantly detected; now you will find out that you are more ignorant
than they are. Accordingly, I took them some of the most elaborate
passages in their own writings, and asked what was the meaning of
them—thinking that they would teach me something. Will you believe me? I
am almost ashamed to confess the truth, but I must say that there is
hardly a person present who would not have talked better about their
poetry than they did themselves. Then I knew that not by wisdom do poets
write poetry, but by a sort of genius and inspiration. They are like
diviners or soothsayers who also say many fine things, but do not
understand the meaning of them. The poets appeared to me to be much in
the same case; and I further observed that upon the strength of their
poetry they believed themselves to be the wisest of men in other things
in which they were not wise. So I departed, conceiving myself to be
superior to them for the same reason that I was superior to the
politicians.
At last I went to the artisans. I was conscious that I knew nothing at
all, as I may say, and I was sure that they knew many fine things; and
here I was not mistaken, for they did know many things of which I was
ignorant, and in this they certainly were wiser than I was. But I
observed that even the good artisans fell into the same error as the
poets;—because they were good workmen they thought that they also knew
all sorts of high matters, and this defect in them overshadowed their
wisdom; and therefore I asked myself on behalf of the oracle, whether I
would like to be as I was, neither having their knowledge nor their
ignorance, or like them in both; and I made answer to myself and to the
oracle that I was better off as I was.
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