ON THE TRUE GUIDING PRINCIPLE IN PLATONIC

ON THE TRUE GUIDING PRINCIPLE IN PLATONIC RECOLLECTION
A^
A Thesis submitted to the faculty of
San Francisco State University
In partial fulfillment of
the requirements for
the Degree
Master of Arts
In
Philosophy
by
Lester Conmigo Abesamis
San Francisco, California
May 2015
Copyright by
Lester Conmigo Abesamis
2015
CERTIFICATION OF APPROVAL
I certify that I have read On the True Guiding Principle in Platonic Recollection by
Lester Conmigo Abesamis, and that in my opinion this work meets the criteria for
approving a thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirement for the degree
Master of Arts in Philosophy at San Francisco State University.
Associate Professor of Philosophy
Associate Professor of Philosophy
ON THE TRUE GUIDING PRINCIPLE IN PLATONIC RECOLLECTION
Lester Conmigo Abesamis
San Francisco, California
2015
This paper discusses Platonic learning by utilizing Lee Franklin’s interpretation of
recollection. Franklin claims that recollection is the elicitation of beliefs through
rudimentary comprehension. Such a claim addresses Meno’s paradox and has interesting
implications for the role that Plato’s Forms play in terms of acquiring knowledge or
having beliefs. I claim that Franklin’s identification and use of the guiding principle,
which determines how one favors certain beliefs over others via a conceptual grasp, lacks
explanatory force since it still remains unclear how exactly we are to move from inchoate
knowledge to what I call full-blown knowledge. I aim to make sense of the guiding
principle by drawing on the veridical reading of being. I ultimately claim that Franklin’s
reading would be more coherent if it were complemented with the veridical reading.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First and foremost I would like to thank my parents, Judith and Armando. Without their
undying love and support, as well as the values they instilled in me, I would not be where
I am today. I would also like to thank my sister, Monica, who may not realize that she
motivates me to be successful. I hope that she surpasses me in all of her academic
endeavors and life-long aspirations. Furthermore, I would like to give a special thanks to
Dr. Pamela Hood for all of the incredible guidance she has given me as well as her
passion for Plato, which has inspired me to pursue and refine this project. I am grateful
for all of her patience, enthusiasm, and help. There are several other names that I wish to
mention regarding the individuals who have helped shape me, as well as this project, and
although they cannot be mentioned here, I express my gratitude to all of you.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Acknowledgements................................................................................................................... v
Introduction.................................................................................................................................1
Meno’s Paradox.........................................................................................................................2
A. What is virtue?......................................................................................................... 3
B. Socrates’ criteria for definition ............................................................................. 4
C. Meno’s paradox........................................................................................................5
Franklin on Meno’s Paradox.....................................................................................................8
A. Problems of inquiry and discovery...................................................................... 11
B. Criteria for answering the “What is F?” question............................................... 12
C. Features of the inquiry process..............................................................................13
D. Conceptual analysis................................................................................................17
E. Theoretical divergence.......................................................................................... 19
Franklin on the Slave-boy Interrogation............................................................................... 23
A. Conceptual possession and conceptual construal................................................24
B. Unfamiliar scenarios............................................................................................. 24
C. The guiding principle for Franklin....................................................................... 25
D. Difficulty with the guiding principle...................................................................28
Looking Toward the Veridical Reading............................................................................... 29
A. Two-worlds theory................................................................................................ 31
B. Gail Fine’s modified veridical reading.................................................................32
The Guiding Principle Enhanced........................................................................................... 35
A. Franklin revisited...................................................................................................35
B. Fine revisited.......................................................................................................... 36
C. The additional resource......................................................................................... 38
D. Truth-values of the physical and the abstract...................................................... 39
Conclusion............................................................................................................................... 43
Works C ited............................................................................................................................. 45
1
Introduction
In the traditional interpretation of the Meno, possessing an understanding of the
Forms is what allows one to have knowledge. More specifically, one must become
reacquainted with the Forms since one forgets them in this lifetime (86b). For example,
only if one understands the Form for virtue can one claim to fully know what virtue is.
Anything short of such understanding would merely yield thought or, even worse,
incomplete belief or opinion. Acquiring such knowledge, or even true belief, of the
Forms can only be done through the dialectic process, as illustrated in the dialogue
between Socrates and Meno.
Lee Franklin presents a contemporary reading of Meno’s paradox that attempts to
reinterpret Platonic recollection. Instead of the idea that one recollects knowledge from a
time prior to one’s current life, Franklin’s argument essentially relies on how one can
elicit beliefs from one’s non-propositional, rudimentary comprehension of a property.
The guiding principle, for Franklin, is the nature of one’s rudimentary comprehension of
a property and how, through conceptual construal of a proposed account and an encounter
with an unfamiliar scenario, one is able to produce an improved account of a property and
avoid theoretical divergence, which is the loss of true belief.
There is, however, one difficulty I find with Franklin’s account of Platonic
recollection. Franklin seems to assume that conceptual construal always allows for an
improved account of a property. However, if we construe our rudimentary
comprehension, our proposed answer to the “What is F?” question, and our exposure to
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an unfamiliar scenario regarding the property we are inquiring about, it is still not clear
what exactly allows us to advance in inquiry and prefer certain beliefs to others. Plato’s
Meno, like many of the other Socratic dialogues, ends with an epistemological impasse,
or aporia, which may lead one to question whether Meno advanced in inquiry or merely
experienced theoretical divergence.
In this paper I claim that Franklin’s conceptual construal can still lead to
theoretical divergence unless the guiding principle’s explanatory force is improved upon.
I aim to enhance Franklin’s guiding principle by utilizing the veridical reading of being
as it is explained by Gail Fine. I will first go over Meno’s paradox in detail as it is
understood traditionally. From here, I will go over Franklin’s interpretation of Platonic
recollection as the elicitation of beliefs from our rudimentary comprehension and then
explain what I believe the weakness of his argument is. I ultimately claim that Franklin’s
conceptual construal provides a coherent interpretation for Platonic recollection so long
as it is supplemented with Gail Fine’s veridical criteria.
Meno’s Paradox
In the Meno, Socrates is asked whether virtue can be taught, is acquired through
practice, or is possessed naturally by men. In his response, Socrates humbly asserts that
he is a long way from even knowing the essence of virtue itself (71a). The discussion
about virtue’s capacity to be taught is set aside as the subject of the dialogue shifts toward
trying to determine virtue’s definition. In his first proposed definition of what virtue is,
Meno suggests that a man’s virtue has to do with “being able to manage public
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affairs...benefit his friends and harm his enemies and to be careful that no harm comes to
him self’, while a woman’s virtue has to do with managing the home well and submitting
to her husband (71e). Moreover, Meno thinks there are different virtues for men, women,
the elderly, children, slaves, and free men.
Socrates responds by asking if there are different kinds of virtues or if all virtues
have something in common, to which Meno answers by saying the virtues do not differ at
all. He claims that the health of a man does not differ from that of a woman’s and that the
same goes for strength, which suggests that virtue possesses a singular essence (72e). In
other words, if a man manages public affairs and a woman manages the home, both tasks
seem to have the capacity to be handled virtuously, that is, they must do it well, just, and
moderately, further suggesting one, unifying explanation for what virtue is. By unifying
explanation, I mean that there is one explanation of virtue that covers or unifies all
instances of virtue.
Meno now must figure out the one description that covers all cases of virtue.
Trying once again, Meno defines virtue as the ability to rule over people (73 d). In
response, Socrates wonders if this description applies to children and slaves since these
two types of people seem to lack the ability to rule. Also, Socrates suggests that if virtue
were the ability to rule, should not one rule justly as opposed to unjustly? Meno agrees to
this since he believes justice is virtue (73e), which compels Socrates to wonder if justice
in fact is virtue or if it is a type of virtue. To this, Meno responds by claiming there are
several virtues, such as courage, moderation, wisdom, and munificence. Socrates quickly
4
notices that Meno is giving examples of virtue instead of a definition of virtue itself (74b75a) and shifts the dialogue once again in order to hopefully explain the distinction
between x and an instance of x.
To highlight the difference between x and examples of x, Socrates attempts to
explain what shape is as opposed to a shape by suggesting that shape is “that which alone
of existing things always follows color” (75c). In a moment of perplexity, Meno wonders
about someone who does not know what color or shape is. Socrates responds by positing
how dialectic unfolds in that one gives a suggested answer to the “What is F?” question
and if it is wrong, it is the answerer’s duty to try to refute it. The dialogue concerning
shape, as Socrates suggests, looks like this:
Do you call something “the end?” I mean such a thing as a limit or a
boundary, for all those are, I say the same thing.. .Further, you call
something a plane, and something else a solid, as in geometry? From this
you may understand what I mean by shape, for I say this of every shape,
that a shape is that which limits a solid; in a word, a shape is the limit of a
solid (75d-76a).
The definition for shape that Socrates puts forward here meets the criteria for a definition
that Socrates is asking of Meno. It does not put forth an instance or example of a shape;
rather, it tries to explain the common essence or features of all things that have shape.
In an attempt to mimic Socrates, Meno tries to present yet another definition of
virtue: “to find joy in beautiful things and have power” (77b), that is, one finds joy in
good things and not bad things. The weakness in this definition is exploited when
Socrates asserts that people do not desire what is bad—they just desire what they think to
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be good even if, unbeknownst to them, it is the opposite. Thus, Socrates concludes that
“those who have knowledge of these things and believe them to be good clearly desire
good things” (77e). Socrates is directing our attention to the implication that if virtue is
taking joy in good things, and if people unknowingly are pursuing bad things mistaking
them to be good, then it would not seem plausible to say that this is a viable definition of
virtue since this definition would allow for undesirable results—bad things—to correlate
with virtue.
Aside from the inconsistencies in the proposed accounts, Meno’s candidate
answers are also refuted by Socrates claiming that Meno fails to give a definition for
“virtue as a whole” and is merely giving fragmented instances of virtue (79c). It is at this
point that Meno, surely in a state of frustration, voices his concerns about Socrates’
requirements. Having given several speeches about virtue in front of large audiences,
Meno is perplexed at his inability to provide an explanation that is coherent, cohesive,
and accurate. In voicing his perplexity, Meno presents what is commonly referred to as
Meno’s paradox, which is composed of two questions: (1) how can one inquire about
virtue if one does not know what it is and (2) if you meet with virtue, how will you know
that this is the thing that you, at one point, did not know (80d)? That is to say, how would
one inquire about something one does not know about and how would one eventually
acquire knowledge or even belief about something if, at one point, one did not know it?
Socrates acknowledges the severity of what Meno is implying and says:
6
Do you realize what a debater’s argument you are bringing up, that a man
cannot search either for what he knows or for what he does not know? He
cannot search for what he knows—since he knows it, there is no need to
search—nor for what he does not know, for he does not know what to look
for (80e).
Having explicitly identified the issue, Socrates suggests that the paradox is essentially
illusory since the soul is immortal and can recollect what it knew from previous lives,
even knowledge of a definitional account of virtue (8 Id).
Socrates attempts to prove this claim by calling on Meno’s slave and guiding him
through a geometry exercise concerning the construction of squares and determining the
dimensions of relational squares. After witnessing the boy make successful realizations
about squares, Socrates reveals to Meno that the boy is able to determine the length of
different squares by recollecting, since it is highly likely that the boy has never
encountered geometry in this lifetime. Socrates suggests:
.. .even now [the slave] does not yet know, but then he thought he knew,
and answered confidently as if he did know, and he did not think himself
at a loss, but now he does think himself at a loss, and as he does not know,
neither does he think he knows (84b).
What Socrates is implying here is the fact that the slave may not have full understanding
of squares and what it means to essentially be a square, e.g., further implications
regarding a square’s dimensions and how it may relate to other squares constructed from
the original square, does not mean progress is futile as is suggested by Meno’s paradox.
Rather, the slave at one point assumed he possessed knowledge of squares and even
provided what he perceived to be worthy answers to Socrates’ geometry exercise. In
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doing this, he did not acknowledge the errors in his responses but now those mistakes are
obvious to him. He has at least made progress insofar as the incorrect answers have been
discovered and can now be disregarded.
As I will further explore later in this paper, it is worth asking what Socrates is
indicating here may very well be his attempt at bridging the gap, so to speak, between
knowledge and belief since, in gaining knowledge about what one does not know, it
would seem that one has the capacity to advance from perplexity to a less severe state of
perplexity. By this I mean that one advances and becomes aware of what one did not
know at an earlier point. This is fleshed out when Socrates says:
Have we done [the slave] harm by making him perplexed and numb as the
torpedo fish does?....Do you think that before he would have tried to find
out that which he thought he knew though he did not, before he fell into
perplexity and realized he did not know and longed to know? Look then
how he will come out of his perplexity while searching along with me. I
shall do nothing more than ask questions and not teach him. Watch
whether you find me teaching and explaining things to him instead of
asking for his opinion (84b-d).
In guiding the boy through opinions about the square figure by manipulating the square
and having the boy follow along, Socrates asserts that the boy is expressing his own
opinions, which suggests that these beliefs were in the boy and he is merely recollecting.
This is further explicated when Socrates says “the man who does not know has within
himself true opinions about the things he does not know” (85 c). True opinions, therefore,
are definitely beneficial since they help us in our search for an accurate account of things
like virtue. One may surely give a correct account of something even if they do not
8
possess the explanatory definition or demonstrate having full-blown understanding or
knowledge, which seems to dismiss the necessity of knowledge (97b-d). This, however,
is only useful to the extent that true opinions are not guaranteed to remain tied down; they
may very well be subject to change and “escape from a man’s mind” (98a) unless one is
able to secure them by giving a coherent, explanatory account that ties the true opinions
together. This line of reasoning also gives an explanation of why knowledge is prized
higher than correct opinion.
Lee Franklin’s new reading of Meno attempts to frame recollection as a theory of
learning that begins when we speak and think ordinarily. From here, one can continue on
and acquire knowledge through reflecting on the inquiry. In other words, philosophical
inquiry relies on the nature of our ordinary comprehension, which begins with ordinary
discourse and identifying the object of inquiry successfully, as well as determining its
“bearers” (Franklin 349).
Franklin on Meno’s Paradox
In “Meno’s Paradox, The Slave-boy Interrogation, and the Unity of Platonic
Recollection”, Franklin suggests that since learning depends on our ordinary
comprehension, Plato is tracing attainable knowledge through inquiry back to our
“pretheoretical comprehension.” This means that knowledge is not only in us, but that it
is inchoate in our grasp of property and this allows us to speak and think about it in an
ordinary way. What “grasp of property” means is that we can identify the property virtue
at the basic level. So, recollection is a two-step theory of learning: (1) ordinary speech
9
and thought which leads to (2) philosophical reflection that yields knowledge (349).
Franklin tries to spell out this new reading by first going over his interpretation of
Meno’s paradox and then examining how the suggestion of recollection is instantiated in
the slave-boy interrogation.
Prior to examining the paradox, Franklin suggests that the distinct types of
Platonic learning (theoretical inquiry and learning through ordinary speaking and
thinking) are combined into a single theory because they describe recollection differently.
That is, Franklin believes the Meno describes recollection as the “elicitation of a
proposition, a true belief or an account, from within oneself’ (Meno, 85c4, 85d6-7, 98a35) and the Phaedo describes recollection as having a Form in mind when we recollect “in
response to sense perception” (.Phaedo 74c7-d2, 75c7-d5) (Franklin 350). So, the Meno
suggests that we can elicit a proposition from within our ordinary comprehension while
the Phaedo suggests we have a Form in mind when we ordinarily identify a property.
The Meno implies that both knowledge and the answer to the “What is F?”
question are drawn from the ordinary comprehension we bring to inquiry. This
comprehension has to do with the rudimentary or elementary grasp of a property, “akin to
a concept” (Franklin 350), in which we can identify and properly indicate its bearers and
think and speak about the property ordinarily. In other words, there is something in our
ordinary comprehension that indicates our ability to accurately point to or direct our
attention toward a property and speak about it generally. Such an elementary grasp
implies that basic comprehension does not possess propositional beliefs but instead
10
contains something more basic for identifying a property, which may then lead one to
form further judgments about a property. For instance, one can form basic judgments
about virtue or squares without having advanced propositional beliefs. Perhaps one has
the capacity to avoid making incorrect foundational judgments such as squares are a type
of beast or that virtue is edible. This rudimentary grasp, according to Franklin, has the
potential to yield knowledge, or at least the correct account via reflection. Because one
can reflect and evaluate how proposed accounts relate to the rudimentary grasp, it implies
that knowledge is inchoate in the rudimentary grasp, i.e., knowledge is underdeveloped
but has the capacity to be cultivated through the inquiry process (Franklin 351).
As I will also explain, Franklin admits that propositional beliefs cannot solve
Meno’s paradox since these beliefs can always be revised prior to the completion of
inquiry. In other words, the idea is that the paradox shows how one cannot gain
knowledge because they do not have knowledge to begin with and since true beliefs are
not bound by an account grounded in knowledge, they cannot be the solution to the
paradox. So, Franklin is tasked with finding a guiding resource that will litigate our
conflicting beliefs and accounts and allow us to make new ones (350). In other words,
one requires a guide that is not the beliefs themselves, for without this guide it is unclear
whether we are highlighting a property when talking about virtue, for instance, as
opposed to identifying a proposition about virtue, which would seem to place the cart
before the horse. By this I mean that Franklin wants to show how we must observe how
our basic comprehension can identify a property and how the guiding principle ultimately
11
lies within our basic comprehension as opposed to placing the guide in our ability to form
propositional beliefs.
To reiterate, Meno’s paradox asks if (a) one can specify a property when
beginning an inquiry and (b) if one can determine the correct account of that property of
the inquiry. Franklin explicitly labels two problems found in the paradox. First, there is a
problem of inquiry since it is unclear how one is to start inquiring about a property he
does not know about (351). Second, there is a problem of discovery, in that it is unclear
how inquiry can be successfully completed.
In Recollection and Experience: Plato’s Theory o f Learning and Experience,
Dominic Scott also acknowledges that Meno’s paradox is partly an attempt to undermine
the possibility of discovery. He suggests that the issue is that if we ask about what virtue
is, it seems that we do not have knowledge of virtue, that is, we do not possess a
definition of it that wholly encompasses virtue. Without this knowledge, it seems that we
cannot even propose a dialectical definition (i.e., we do not possess the required tools to
identify virtue, let alone propose a candidate definition). Scott describes the conundrum
by saying that we want to discover something but cannot because we lack the knowledge
we are seeking in the first place (Scott, 28).
Furthermore, Scott concedes that since we lack knowledge in the beginning of
inquiry, we are already prone to distorting proposed accounts or arriving at completely
incorrect accounts, which severely affects the outcome of inquiry (Scott, 29). So, it would
seem that because we do not have reliable starting points when it comes to inquiry, it is
12
highly questionable how one would aim to move from mere opinions (including true
opinions) to knowledge. Although the questions concerning the possibility of inquiry and
discovery are jointly raised, Franklin insists that we examine them separately.
Let us first examine the “What is F?” question. Candidate answers to this question
come from testing the inquirer’s beliefs, which is done through the Socratic method
(elenchus). Socrates refutes Meno’s suggestions as to what virtue might be but despite
this, it still shows that both are attempting to follow the criteria for appropriately and
successfully answering the “What is F?” question. Franklin claims:
...The “What is F?” question embodies robust methodological
commitments in its own right, concerning the prerequisites for
participation in inquiry, the nature of the understanding we pursue in it,
and the specific kinds of reflection by which we move from its beginning
to its end (352).
That is to say that the “What is F?” question calls for a definitionally accurate answer.
One can arrive at this answer by merely possessing basic requirements necessary for
inquiry, successfully comprehending propositions in inquiry, and evaluating the
suggested propositions that may yield the correct account. So, for Franklin, this means
that Plato considers inquiry to be an attempt to develop a comprehensive and explanatory
theory through “open-ended, self-directed reflection on our ordinary beliefs and
statements” (352). Such reflection, Franklin believes, calls into question not only our
capacity to reach knowledge but also the nature of our ordinary discourse.
13
Furthermore, Franklin states that the inquiry process, or asking “What is F?”
contains three features essential to inquiry: (1) It allows us to consider all possible
statements and beliefs one can make about an inquiry both at the beginning and at the end
of the process, “thereby highlighting the extent of the transformation required for
successful inquiry” (352). (2) It is both a search for an accurate explanation of a property
as well as what the meanings of our ordinary terms are, which highlights the presence of
comprehension that may guide revisions of explanations to and from deficiency. Finally,
(3) in trying to answer the “What is F?” question, we can see that candidate statements
and beliefs are revisable up until inquiry is complete. Inquiry is complete when we can
compare our beliefs at the end of inquiry with those at the beginning. We are successful
when we can answer “What is F?” in a way that provides an account of what it means to
be F, i.e., what makes all F things F and how this separates it from other properties,
namely, non-F things. At this point, our beliefs about F must reach a “rather advanced
state” (352).
Take, for example, the Laches dialogue, in which Nicias tries to determine what
courage is. Socrates sways Nicias into providing a definitional explanation of courage to
which Nicias claims that it is “knowledge of the fearful and the hopeful in war and in
every other situation” (Laches, 194el l-195al). In response, Socrates says:
Then does a man with this kind of knowledge seem to depart from virtue
in any respect if he really knows, in the case of all goods whatsoever, what
they are and will be and have been, and similarly in the case of evils? And
do you regard that man as lacking in temperance or justice and holiness to
whom alone belongs the ability to deal circumspectly with both gods and
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men with respect to both the fearful and its opposite, and to provide
himself with good things through his knowledge of how to associate with
them correctly? {Laches 199d4)
What Socrates is implying here is that Nicias has put forth a definition that attempts to
address courage but falls short since a contradiction arises: it had been agreed in the
dialogue that courage is one part of virtue but now what is being explained seems to fall
in line with courage being virtue entirely (199el 1). This explanation of courage fails
Franklin’s requirement of coming up with an explanatory theory that is both
comprehensive and coherent (353).
Franklin suggests, and this is also evident in the interrogation of Meno’s slave,
that when an inquirer brings their own beliefs to inquiry, they at least have “ordinary
linguistic competence” with the property in that they recognize the name perhaps, which
allows for reliable predication of the property. In The Structure o f Dialectic in the Meno,
linguistic competence seems to work in a way where one can point to F by “saying
something sufficient to identify it, without explicating its essence” (Franklin, 427). One’s
focus on F is meant to treat it as an isolated object of inquiry. Franklin asserts that this
step is useful only if one has not yet set the boundaries of the object of inquiry.
Furthermore, he claims:
Philosophy begins in our everyday experience with the world, and our
ordinary ability to speak and think about it. Our inquiry must begin from
what we know and have experienced, even if that perspective is unique,
and limited, and in some ways incorrect (429).
15
Such predications may not be perfect, nor are the inquirer’s expressed beliefs about the
property exclusively true beliefs. That is to say that when one begins inquiring, his beliefs
may be incomplete, disorganized, inconsistent, and incoherent. One might propose what
turns out to be the correct account but may not know it or even consider it incorrect when
it conflicts with older beliefs. For Franklin, this means “[w]hat we believe about a
property when we come to inquiry does not enable us to identify the correct account”
(353). In other words, Franklin is still searching for a guiding principle that allows one to
prefer certain beliefs to others.
Franklin also warns us to be cautious about attributing beliefs to an individual. He
presents a distinction between readily available beliefs and beliefs that may be formulated
through reflection and other cognitive processes (353). For instance, a readily available
belief for the slave-boy regarding squares may be that a square has four sides, as it seems
uncontroversial to say that this belief is immediately formed from the ordinary
comprehension of squares and sides. A belief that may be formulated from further
reflection may be that the diagonal of a square is the base of a square twice its area. Plato
wants to know if and how these new beliefs can be elicited from readily available ones.
So, as Franklin suggests, inquiry into the “What is F?” question involves three
steps when it comes to revision (that is, revising our proposed answers in an effort to
improve them): (1) one proposes an account that attempts to answer the “What is F?”
question, (2) the account is tested by trying to elicit other beliefs about the property, and
(3) the account is revised when a contradiction is found. However, Franklin asserts that
16
the “demand of consistency gives us no reason to prefer one revision to another” (354).
This anticipates the need for the guiding principle as something that guides our
preference of one belief to another. That is to say that in inquiring, what allows us to
prefer beliefs to others when revising an account is not exactly clear. All one can say is
that when we inquire, we encounter several moments when we must decide if our
judgments and beliefs benefit our developing theory. In “Socratic Elenchus”, Gregory
Vlastos suggests that what is beneficial to our inquiry, what allows for qualitative
revisions, relies on what he refers to as the “say what you believe” rule (Vlastos 712).
This principle allows for elenchus, which attempts to discover truth. In contrast, there is
eristic, which looks to resolve an argument in the agent’s favor by saying anything to
gain an upper hand. In elenchus, one must say what one truly believes even at the risk of
being refuted in order to genuinely advance in the search for truth. However, this rule still
does not indicate a guiding principle that allows one to prefer one belief to another or
prefer one revision to another.
How judgments are made, for Franklin, relies on the dual nature of the “What is
F?” question in that (1) there are requirements to having knowledge that call for
explanatory knowledge of F and (2) the “What is F?” question is concerned with the
nature of the terms employed in ordinary discourse to identify F (354). This is evident in
Socrates asking Meno for a definition of shape (74d7-el). So, when we inquire, we can
correct our judgments when they do not “genuinely express [our] view of the property”
and we are able to change our ordinary grasp of the property when we notice a needed
17
revision in our beliefs since “the change has come about through judgments issuing from
that very grasp” (355). Franklin posits that this is possible through what he calls
“conceptual analysis”, which is the evaluation of our ordinary grasp of a property. Again,
ordinary grasp refers to the terms employed to identify F. If the judgments do not
represent the ordinary grasp, then the judgment is corrected and the ordinary grasp is
altered so that it does not elicit judgments of that kind again.
So at this point, both parts of Meno’s paradox (how inquiry and discovery are
possible) are combined because ordinary comprehension is just as important as
theoretical reflection. More specifically, inquiry is made possible because of our ordinary
comprehension. Also, there seems to be a mutual dependency between both in that
theoretical reflection comes from ordinary comprehension and vice versa (355). For
example, to inquire about virtue, one would need to comprehend it ordinarily prior to
making further judgments about it. Because of this, Franklin considers Meno’s paradox to
be a “Janus-faced problem” since on one hand when we observe it in a forward-looking
manner from the beginning of inquiry to successful completion, one may question
whether ordinary comprehension is enough to guide our revisions to reach the correct
account and hopefully knowledge. How can this be the case since our ordinary
comprehension is initially “impoverished” (355)? From this perspective, it seems that the
paradox is essentially a problem of discovery, as Scott mentions (28)—it is unclear how
one is to complete inquiry due to the fact that we still may not know what it is we are
looking for.
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However, Franklin says that the issue can also be observed in a backward-facing
manner (355) in that one may try to examine the character of ordinary comprehension
that underlies both ordinary discourse and the possibility of theoretical reflection. In other
words, Franklin wants to observe what in our ordinary comprehension creates a link to
theoretical reflection. More specifically, how does our ordinary comprehension allow for
the possibility of theoretical reflection? Meno’s comment about being able to make
several speeches about virtue but failing to provide an explanatory account of it when
asked by Socrates is indicative of this notion (80b). In other words, Meno’s lack of
explanation about something he claims to know calls into question the ordinary terms and
statements he utilizes in identifying virtue.
So, is it the case that our ordinary comprehension is sufficient for theoretical
reflection? Or is Meno’s suggestion that maybe he and Socrates are both totally ignorant
of virtue (80d) correct? Franklin thinks that Meno is merely ignorant of what virtue is
specifically (355)—that is, he is unable to give a correct definition of virtue. Meno may
still have true beliefs about virtue stemming from his ordinary comprehension of being
able to identify virtue as a property. These true beliefs also might allow him to make
further judgments about virtue. He may also still be able to provide a correct account
although this would not be indicative of having knowledge. Franklin, however, does not
find Meno’s ignorance of what virtue specifically is satisfying since he does not think
that the possession of true beliefs (although this may show how one is still on the right
path with true beliefs but lacks the definitional account of a property) can serve as the
19
proper guide to inquiry (356). In other words, having true beliefs alone cannot guide us to
full-blown knowledge since it fails to explain how we prefer some beliefs to others.
According to Socrates, one’s beliefs cannot count as knowledge until one knows what the
property is. This is evident in the Meno when Socrates says, “If I do not know what
something is, how could I know what qualities it possesses” (71b3-7)?
As long as we lack an explanatory answer to the “What is F?” question, we cannot
claim to have knowledge about the property or its bearers. Franklin refers to this as the
“priority of definition” (356). This seems to correlate with Socrates’ assertion that true
beliefs only become knowledge when they are “[tied] down by (giving) an account of the
reason why” (98a). This also suggests, as mentioned earlier, that true beliefs always risk
being lost as opposed to knowledge, which is “bound by reason” (356). In losing a true
belief, I mean that the belief is liable to being dismissed as incorrect when it actually is
correct because it is not secured by a definitional account. This is shown via hypothesis
when one claim suggests that virtue is teachable (87b2-89c3): “But, if virtue is a kind of
knowledge, it is clear that it could be taught.” The subsequent claim, however, seems to
contradict this, as Socrates claims:
I am not saying that it is wrong to say that virtue is teachable if it is
knowledge, but look whether it is reasonable to doubt whether it is
knowledge. Tell me this: if not only virtue but anything whatever can be
taught, should there not be of necessity people who teach it and people
who learn it (89d3)?
20
As indicated in this issue between the two claims concerning virtue’s teachability and
because of the priority of definition, true belief can always be lost according to Franklin.
He refers to this loss as “theoretical divergence” (357), which occurs due to the openendedness of inquiry and the fact that a definition has not yet been established. We are
able to revise any belief prior to the successful completion of inquiry, so we are at risk of
diverging into a myriad of incorrect accounts.
Thrasymachus’ claim in Republic I about the nature of justice indicates this type
of divergence. He considers justice not to be a virtue because it is not profitable (348c).
The divergence here is that justice is led away from the seemingly correct view that ties it
to virtue. The principle of theoretical divergence, along with the priority of definition,
and the instances in which these arise show that we do not first indicate the property
through true beliefs. Alexander Nehamas in M eno’s Paradox and Socrates as a Teacher
asserts that true beliefs are “mixed in” with false beliefs (Nehamas 16) but still it is not
clear how one might choose a true belief over a false belief. Also, as Franklin puts it,
because the beliefs we put forward are not guaranteed to remain fixed, it seems evident
that we may realize the property does not fit the description proposed (357). We also do
not inquire by maintaining a fixed description first. That is, our statements about the
property do not identify the property we mean to investigate. Franklin confirms such a
claim by saying:
.. .in the dialogues displaying inquiry into the “What is F?” question,
Socrates rarely if ever seeks an introductory characterization of the
property. The interlocutor’s casual use of the property’s name usually
21
suffices as an indication that he is familiar with the property and prepared
to inquire about it” (357).
So, for Franklin, the true beliefs we possess cannot be the guide to the correct account.
That is, true beliefs cannot be what allow us to choose which theoretical revisions are
preferred, let alone are correct. Also, if true beliefs were the guide, then we would surely
have fixed true beliefs (Franklin 357-8), which seems to be impossible since we do not
first establish fixed beliefs when inquiring since all beliefs are revisable.
What, then, gives true beliefs immunity from rejection? We must find a way to
explain why true beliefs are not revisable, that is liable to being lost in theoretical
revision, and why we would prefer to accept certain beliefs along with false ones. Gail
Fine, in Inquiry in the Meno, asserts that true beliefs allow for the denial of false beliefs
because our preference for true beliefs is what allows for both the foothold for using true
beliefs as establishing specifications for the property being identified and inquired upon,
as well as the guide that allows for us to form further accurate beliefs (Fine 212-13).
Franklin thinks this is wrong since it still does not show how true beliefs exactly “direct
successful revisions” (357). An explanation of how these beliefs are favored is still
needed as we need to explain the factor that connects us to our preferred beliefs. This is
not to say that true beliefs are no longer important for inquiry; it just means that the true
guide that unifies true beliefs is still not obvious. What Franklin is searching for is the
guide that “enables us to introduce and prefer true beliefs over false ones in the course of
theoretical revision” (358). Furthermore, Fine’s account, according to Franklin, only
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shows that inquiry is possible (Fine, 208-9) and that one can inquire due to the
possession of true beliefs. One can reflect rationally and revise these beliefs but that
which Franklin is searching for allows us to prefer new revisions.
Thus, the focus in examining Platonic learning redirects our attention to the slaveboy interrogation to show “a detailed illustration of the reflection and resources from
which theoretical learning is drawn” (359). To reiterate the forward-looking aspect, if our
beliefs are the only guiding resource in inquiring, then how are we to successfully
complete inquiry? That is, our beliefs are incomplete, incoherent, and disorganized so
they cannot be the guide. Theoretical divergence, the loss of true belief due to a lack of
established explanatory definition, is still possible since our beliefs are not what allow us
to specify a property. We must then, as Franklin puts it, observe the backward-looking
aspect of Meno’s paradox, which is examining the character of ordinary comprehension
and how it affects theoretical reflection. In other words, Franklin asserts that the concern
is this: what in our ordinary comprehension allows us to pick out a single, determinate
property? How, for instance, did Meno know he was talking about virtue even though he
did not possess the correct account? Franklin claims:
The motivation for [thinking that we can speak about a property in the
absence of knowledge] is not, as it has seemed to some, a confusion about
belief and knowledge, but an insight about the governing role of our
ordinary comprehension in theoretical inquiry and revisions (360).
In other words, Franklin is looking to show how one can identify a property successfully
prior to inquiring about it. Meno’s paradox can only be answered by addressing both the
23
forward-looking aspect of discovery and the backward-looking aspect of the how to begin
inquiring.
Franklin on The Slave-bov Interrogation
Franklin thinks that knowledge and the correct account are inchoate in our
rudimentary grasp of a concept or a property. This is why one can identify a property by
way of ordinary discourse. That is not to say that we have knowledge within us at birth;
instead, we seem to have the tools to elicit beliefs from ordinary comprehension that may
yield knowledge. The issue of theoretical progress is not challenged in a way where its
possibility is questioned; rather, Franklin, as well as Plato, is wondering how theoretical
progress is possible.
For Franklin, there are two aspects to learning: (1) when we “recollect”
something, it comes from within and (2) our memory is based on an original experience
that came from an outside source (Franklin, 361). These aspects are separated in order to
illustrate a familiar, yet important point: true beliefs and knowledge are elicited from the
inquirer’s ordinary comprehension. But Franklin claims that Socrates never explicitly
asks the boy the “What is F?” question, which is needed to explain the doctrine of
recollection (8Id) as well as provide the correct account for virtue. So, we must relate the
slave-boy interrogation to the “What is F?” question.
Socrates asks the boy basic questions about squares (82c-86a), which emphasizes
the basic resources that allow one to engage in inquiry. That is, as Fine suggests, the boy
can talk about squares in a basic fashion without having propositional beliefs (Fine 209).
24
Prior to questioning the boy, Socrates makes sure the boy can speak Greek, otherwise
inquiry would be impossible as one requires linguistic competence (Franklin, The
Structure o f Dialectic 417-20). Socrates then draws a square to test the boy’s capacity for
identifying the property. That is, Socrates tries to show the boy’s capacity to successfully
identify a square by being able to use the name “square” competently (Franklin 362).
Once these steps are fulfilled, Socrates asks questions to try to extract beliefs from the
boy. Franklin thinks that Socrates could have done this by comparing a square to an
oblong rectangle in order to arrive at the belief that a square has four equal sides (36263). Franklin refers to the rudimentary ability to identify a property as “conceptual
possession” and how one arrives at beliefs that are elicited from ordinary comprehension
as “conceptual construal.” That is, one possesses basic identification capacities that allow
one to direct attention to a property. By construing the property with other properties, one
is able to arrive at beliefs about the original property perhaps by recognizing the features
this property would not have.
One might wonder why learning is referred to as recollection when it seems that
the boy is merely able to draw conclusions about squares based on his rudimentary
comprehension and recognition of property. Franklin thinks that when Socrates initially
asks the boy about squares, he elicits beliefs that squares have equal sides and equal
transversals (363). The boy has never studied geometry but through his ordinary
linguistic competence, he is able to have a conversation about squares and eventually
25
determine beliefs about a square’s transversals, as well as express a general truth about
all squares (that they have equal sides).
The guiding principle, as Franklin asserts, is the conceptual construal, which is
our capacity to construe and compare concepts in order to elicit new beliefs about them
(364). For instance, in the Republic when Socrates asks Cephalus about his definition of
justice as returning what is owed and posits the undesired act of returning a weapon to a
deranged friend, Cephalus has the capacity to recognize this unfamiliar scenario and say
that his proposed definition of justice is wrong (331e8-332a5). In other words, he can see
that this definition of justice does not match with his basic understanding or rudimentary
grasp of the justice. Cephalus construes his definition of justice with the unfamiliar
scenario Socrates presents and this leads to an alteration of his rudimentary grasp. So, the
guiding principle is how we can construe our proposed accounts with both the
rudimentary grasp and unfamiliar scenarios that potentially expose the inconsistencies in
our accounts.
One concern that immediately stands out seems to be that Cephalus’ original
definition of justice is not tied down by knowledge; that is, it is not bound by reason and
can evade his mind at any time {Meno 98a). In other words, Cephalus’ definition of
justice does not meet the requirement of being an explanatory definition, so proposed
accounts, including true beliefs, can still undergo theoretical divergence. Also, Socrates
bringing up an unfamiliar scenario to show the inconsistency in Cephalus’ definition
might be meaningless as well since this too is not bound by an explanatory account. All
26
this seems to show the possibility of theoretical divergence. The original definition
Cephalus gives was not tied down with an explanatory account but might have been true
belief. This possibility would make Socrates’ unfamiliar scenario a catalyst for theoretical
divergence, as it may have only led Cephalus to doubt his original claim. Also, in this
scenario, it might be the case that Cephalus merely thought that his original definition
was wrong when faced with Socrates’ unfamiliar scenario. This would be an instance
where theoretical divergence wrongly leads someone from what would have been the
correct account. In other words, because a proposed account containing true belief is not
bound by an explanatory definition, the claimant may not realize that they possess the
correct account. Upon being presented with an unfamiliar scenario that seems to show
why their account is incorrect, the claimant withdraws their account and falls victim to
theoretical divergence.
Despite these worries, Franklin maintains that the conceptual construal, which
comes from our rudimentary comprehension to identify properties, can lead to forming
new judgments:
...by construing the inquirer’s comprehension as the conceptual grasp that
underlies the ability to form new beliefs and judgments, Plato identifies a
single resource that grounds our ability to make a wide range of revisions
required in inquiry. This conceptual grasp enables an inquirer to form new
judgments about cases she has never considered before and to decide
between conflicting judgments by considering which best accords with her
grasp of the property (365).
27
This claim also suggests that we need not say that elicited propositions were latent within
us prior to inquiry. We can give an account of learning by saying that the newly formed
judgment comes from our reflection of proposed answers to “What is F?” being
compared to our rudimentary grasp of a property. In Cephalus’ case, he had rudimentary
comprehension that allowed for the identification of justice as an abstract idea. By
construing concepts and beliefs with the unfamiliar scenario Socrates presented,
Cephalus was able to form a new judgment, which altered his original definition of
justice but also presumably kept in line with some common essence about what justice
might be according to his ordinary comprehension. There are two points to Franklin’s
interpretation here. First, recollection is nothing but a metaphor for eliciting new beliefs
from ordinary comprehension coupled with unfamiliar scenarios. Second, we can still
learn or maintain theoretical progress when a candidate answer is rejected and also make
new accounts with help from the rejected answers to the “What is F?” question (365).
Furthermore, Franklin claims that the beliefs we reflect on do not necessarily
determine which accounts we form as candidate answers since “implicit in Plato’s
acknowledgement of the possibility of theoretical divergence is the recognition that a
single set of data may be explained by multiple conflicting accounts” (367). That is, the
correct account might be derived from incorrect accounts that have different starting
points. For example, Socrates might ask Cephalus for his definition of justice and then
ask Thrasymachus for his definition at another time. What Franklin is suggesting here is
that even if both Cephalus and Thrasymachus propose different accounts, the inquiry
28
process can still yield similar results. Perhaps both Cephalus and Thrasymachus realize
the shortcomings in their definitions and ultimately are made aware of what justice is not.
This seems correct to say since the beliefs are not tied down and it would be troublesome
to say that the beliefs allow us to form further judgments.
Franklin explicitly claims that our reflection is guided by the grasp of the property
itself, which allows for an improved account of what F is (368). This still remains
unclear, however, since it would seem that the ordinary grasp of an object could still lead
us to theoretical divergence. To clarify, if Cephalus’ ordinary grasp of justice had
something to do with righteousness and what is deserved (these are obviously
propositions and I do not mean to say that Cephalus possesses these in his grasp, but
rather he may possess rudimentary versions of these statements), then it would seem that
Socrates’ unfamiliar scenario merely led Cephalus to not desire the acceptance of
“returning a weapon to a deranged friend” because it seems so far removed from the
essence of what justice might be according to his initial grasp of it. More specifically,
much like there is nothing in our propositional beliefs that guide us to prefer some beliefs
to others, it is still unclear what exactly in our ordinary comprehension allows us to elicit
true beliefs. It seems plausible to say that Cephalus might have one type of ordinary grasp
that points to justice and Thrasymachus may have another that also points to justice but
both elicit different types of beliefs because they come from different perspectives.
Franklin seems to be committed to this idea that two people can have different grasps that
merely point to a property since he concedes that a single set of data can be explained by
29
multiple conflicting accounts. It seems that Franklin’s guiding principle falls short if he
considers it to be the conceptual construal since this assumes that everyone begins at the
same starting point, i.e. ordinary comprehension for everyone possesses the same level of
reliability. Beginning at the same starting point, however, seems to provide an overly
simplistic account of ordinary comprehension.
Looking Toward the Veridical Reading
As David C. Lee presents it, there are three specific types of readings regarding
Plato and his notion of being, which correlate with certain implications of knowledge and
belief and the objects each are set over. The first is the existential reading (Lee 856-58),
which basically states that we can make sense of “what is” and “what is not” as varying
degrees of existence. So, the Beautiful itself fully exists but the many sensible beautiful
things only partially exist and obviously “what is not” does not exist at all. The second is
the predicative reading (Lee 858-60), which suggests that “what is” possesses a certain
kind of property and “what is not” does not possess it. There is an intermediate place
where things partially contain the property. Finally, there is the veridical reading (Lee,
860-62), which has to do with truth-values. That is, something is if it is true and
something is not if it is false.
Furthermore, Lee claims that Plato does not use the Greek term pragma for
“object” but instead uses ti for “something”, which he thinks “has a broader signification”
since “knowledge and belief are distinguished by what they are ‘set over and
accomplish’” (860). Perhaps this just is Lee’s way of suggesting that knowledge and
30
belief have some sort of mutual connection instead of being representative of a
metaphysical divide between the realms of Being and Becoming, or to borrow Gail Fine
characterization of the two-worlds theory, the idea that “there is no knowledge of
sensibles and no belief about Forms” (Fine 122). Fine’s view is based on the
metaphysical and epistemological interpretation of the Divided Line where knowledge
and objects of knowledge rest above the line in the realm of Being and opinion and
objects of opinion remain below the line in the realm of Becoming {Republic VI 509d).
At this point, we are left with the suggestion that a knower knowing something
does not mean that a knower knows a specific object, such as Forms or pure
mathematical objects, but rather, Lee notes that:
Plato may instead hold that the correlates of cognitive states are the
contents of a knower’s judgments. We may think of knowledge and belief
as related to something semantic in nature, perhaps representations in the
mind that certain states of affairs obtain. These objects are more like
propositions than objects in the traditional sense, physical items or the raw
data perceptions (860).
It is here where the veridical reading is explicitly suggested as the most plausible reading
out of the three since propositions have to do with truth-values. So, “what is” becomes
“what is true” and “what is not” becomes “what is not true.” On this view, because
philosophers have knowledge and not belief, Plato would be suggesting that since
knowledge is of what is true and ignorance is of what is not true, belief is suspended
between truth and falsity. Lee claims that this suggestion does not dismiss the Forms, but
calls for them to have a less direct role (861). I am a bit unsure what Lee means here by
31
“indirectly”. Perhaps, as Franklin suggests, Lee means that they are no longer the sole
determining factor to attaining knowledge or true belief but still are guidelines in that
they allow us to have a concept in mind and we can inquire about it (Franklin 371).
Furthermore, Lee blatantly denies the two-worlds theory, which allows for
knowledge and belief to correlate with particular ontological objects and in which only
philosophers would only have full knowledge of things, while non-philosophers have, at
best, true belief. He denies this theory on the grounds that non-philosophers, although
they may not know the full nature of how something really is nor do they possess the
correct, exhaustive, and explanatory account, can still talk about how something is
approximately the way it is. Lee says that one may not know that a blackboard is
absolutely straight but one can know that it is approximately straight (Lee 859). That is to
say that, a non-philosopher may not know what Justice is but he has a kind of full on
“knowledge” about what Justice roughly is. This focus on how one can know that
something is approximately so shows that non-philosophers possess a kind of knowledge.
If such a view were accepted it would seem to force Plato to accept absurd conclusions,
such as having both philosophers and non-philosophers possess knowledge. A
philosopher would know exactly what Justice is in that he can give an undeniable account
of it while a non-philosopher would be able to give an undeniable account of what Justice
approximately is.
So, how is belief distinguished from ignorance and knowledge with the veridical
reading? In other words, how can a proposition be suspended between knowledge and
32
ignorance? Ian M. Crombie suggests that a proposition can be partly true and partly false
(Crombie 58), which introduces a third kind of distinction. However, a more
sophisticated account comes from Gail Fine, who ultimately says that knowledge and
belief do not correlate with merely individual propositions; rather, they correlate with
entire sets of propositions. A belief that has both what is (true) and what is not (false) is
explained by saying that such a belief is nothing but a set of propositions where part of
the set is true and part of it is false (Fine 126). Since Plato correlates knowledge with the
Forms and belief with particulars, it would seem that there would be no room for beliefs
of Forms or knowledge of particulars. However, as Fine argues, Plato is saying that
Forms are the primary objects of knowledge but certainly not the only ones (Fine 122).
This allows for the possibility of having beliefs about Forms. Intuitively, this seems
permissible since one may have opinions about Justice and, even less controversially, one
may have knowledge about particulars.
Fine constructs the argument as follows: (1) whoever knows knows something,
(2) whoever knows knows something that is, for one could not know a thing that is not.
There are two interpretations of (1). The first is (la) whoever knows knows some existent
thing and the second is (lb) whoever knows has some content of his knowledge.
Furthermore, Fine says:
On (lb) Plato is only claiming that if one knows, there is an answer to the
question “What do you know?”; he is correlating knowledge with certain
sorts of propositions, saying that there is some content of the cognitive
condition. No conclusions about what objects these propositions are about
need follow (Fine 125).
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Moreover, there are three interpretations for (2). The first interpretation (2a) suggests,
“whoever knows knows something exists”, which seems to align with the existential
reading. The second interpretation (2b) suggests, “whoever knows knows something that
is really F”, which seems to align with the predicative reading. The final interpretation
(2c) suggests, “whoever knows knows something that is true” (Fine 124). Fine believes
that (lb) “whoever knows has some content of his knowledge”, is compatible with (2c)
“whoever knows knows something that is true”, and that this interpretation of The
Republic allows for the claim that knowledge has content and that this content is always
true since what is known is something always true.
The two-worlds theory is also denied by Fine since she claims that degrees of
existence separate the objects of knowledge and belief and places objects of the latter in
the realm of “half-existence”, or that objects merely exist in a partial manner, which she
considers to be an inappropriate conclusion (Fine 125). What follows from this is the
conclusion that objects cannot be both known and believed. If one had a set of all true
propositions about virtue and thus had knowledge of virtue, it would seem strange to say
that one could willingly discard some true propositions and revert back down to having
true belief. In promoting the veridical reading since it does not force such a separation
between objects of knowledge and belief, Fine suggests a difference in content between
the two cognitive states in a way that avoids the two-worlds theory. Knowledge and
belief may be different in that they have different truth implications but “claims that are
34
known or believed can be directed to the same objects” (Fine, 126). In other words, one
can have beliefs about Justice and another person can have knowledge of it. Presumably,
the first person’s account would not be bound by reason.
Fine then says that there are two types of veridical readings: the Degrees of Truth
(DT) reading says that each belief is both true and not true or partly true and partly false.
On this reading, Fine suggests “’belief acquires a specialized sense...as being ‘near the
mark’” (Fine, 126). However, she also believes that this yields unintuitive results, such as
the contents of beliefs and knowledge will be “irreducibly different” and that knowledge
ranges over truth while belief over partial truths. Alternatively, she promotes a second
reading simply titled, T, which suggests that beliefs contain both true and false
“members” (Fine, 126). In other words, some of my beliefs may be true and some false.
From here, Fine argues that Plato can make the claim that, instead of propositions of
belief being partly true and partly false, a belief can have a certain set of propositions that
contain both true and false statements (Fine, 127). She goes on to suggest that:
Plato has not only allowed there to be knowledge and belief about the
same objects [‘x and y do different things to the same thing’; in other
words, knowledge and belief do different things to the same ‘object’]; he
has also left open the possibility that your token-piece of knowledge could
be my token-belief. A given proposition is a belief when it is believed, and
a piece of knowledge when it is known (Fine, 129).
To use an analogy, imagine a scenario where two different drivers are about to make the
exact same lane change. Both drivers look at their mirrors before signaling and even turn
over their shoulder to make sure no one is in their blind spot. Luckily, both drivers are
35
able to make the lane change; however, the first does not possess the same level of
eyesight as the second driver and as a result is not as certain about the safety of the
maneuver as the second driver is. In this case, the first driver gets lucky by merely relying
on his incomplete view (made of up of a set of propositions containing both true and false
members) while the second driver sees with excellent vision (and thus might have a set of
propositions that contain all true members) that there is no hazard in the way. The point
here is to liken the first driver to someone who has belief about the maneuver that the
second driver has knowledge of.
The Guiding Principle Enhanced
Let us once again go over the worries found in Franklin’s guiding principle.
Franklin claims that the guiding principle is found in our conceptual construal, which is
our capacity to construe our proposed answers to the “What is F?” question with our
rudimentary comprehension as well as unfamiliar scenarios we encounter. Cephalus was
able to identify the property justice and give a proposed definition for it as returning what
is owed. When Socrates exposed him to the unfamiliar scenario of returning a weapon to
a deranged friend, Cephalus found an opportunity to improve his account. Surely
Cephalus realized that something was wrong with his original account; however, it still
seems possible for him to commit theoretical divergence after this point of realization. In
rejecting the account that suggests justice is returning what is owed, one may still
experience the loss of true belief by arriving at another incorrect judgment. Cephalus still
has some work to do in coming up with an explanatory definition for justice, which
36
seems to leave room for several more errors despite the elimination of what were once
proposed answers but are now rejected ones.
More specifically, it is still not clear what exactly in our ordinary grasp
determines the elicitation of true beliefs. We can construe our ordinary comprehension
with proposed accounts and unfamiliar scenarios but it still seems possible to fall victim
to theoretical divergence. Surely, Meno and the slave have enough ordinary
comprehension to identify and talk about virtue but the process in which true beliefs are
elicited is still not made clear by Franklin’s proposed guiding principle. That is, there
does not seem to be anything that prevents either Meno or the slave from making further
mistakes in defining virtue. Moreover, Meno may have one kind of ordinary grasp that
points to virtue and the slave may have another that points to the same property but both
may elicit different beliefs due to, perhaps, the difference in quality of their ordinary
grasp. Franklin’s account implies that two people can possess different ordinary grasps
that point to the same property since he allows for the possibility of a single set of data
being explained by multiple conflicting accounts (367). So, if Franklin thinks that the
guiding principle is the conceptual construal, then his proposed resource falls short.
The veridical reading, as stated before, suggests that what is becomes what is true
and what is not becomes what is not true. The objects of cognitive states, then, are
actually not objects, but rather propositions. So, since knowledge is what is true and
ignorance is what is not true, belief is suspended between truth and falsity. Fine’s
modified veridical reading says that to have knowledge is to possess a set of propositions
37
that are all true as opposed to having one true proposition (127). If one has belief, this is
explained by having a set of propositions that contain both true and false members. This
is consistent with what I take to be Lee’s view that the Forms do not have a direct role for
gaining knowledge or true belief; instead, one gains knowledge and true belief by
possessing a set of propositions that are respectively all true or mostly true (861). One
might have a Form in mind when inquiring but it seems what is more important is having
a set of propositions that contain true members. This seems to fair well with Fine’s
account, which states: (lb) Whoever knows has some content in his knowledge and (2c)
Whoever knows knows something that is true (125).
For Fine, it seems that one can give a definitional account of something when all
propositions in the set are true, e.g., Socrates’ definition of shape as opposed to Meno’s
definition of virtue as finding joy in good things (77b). Socrates exploiting Meno’s
account indicates that Meno does not possess all true propositions regarding virtue.
Because Meno’s set is corrupted with the presence of false propositions, he must revise
his set until he has all true propositions or at least reduce the amount of false
propositions. As Franklin would put it, Meno must then also alter his ordinary
comprehension about virtue since the original comprehension allowed for the elicitation
of a set of beliefs that were not all true.
Even the slave-boy interrogation illustrates the plausibility of Fine’s account. The
boy tries to answer Socrates’ questions about squares but finds difficulty producing the
correct answer because his set of propositions about squares contains both true and false
38
members (perhaps more false propositions than true ones). The boy must also revise his
set until the false propositions are either completely removed or mostly removed. This
revision is possible through dialectic with Socrates, in which mistakes are made obvious
and are then easier to correct.
So how is Franklin’s guiding principle improved upon using Fine’s veridical
reading? Since the guiding principle, located in the conceptual construal, can still lead to
theoretical divergence (the loss of true belief), what is needed is a resource that better
guarantees our ability to successfully move forward when inquiring. Franklin seems to be
on the right track with claiming that true beliefs are elicited from our ordinary
comprehension being construed with a proposed answer to the “What is F?” question
along with the exposure to an unfamiliar scenario to test our account. However, one thing
is left out: how one still manages to avoid theoretical divergence after conceptual
construal.
Fine’s modified veridical reading calls for a set of all true propositions to have
knowledge and mostly true propositions, among false ones, to have belief. So, one needs
to revise one’s accounts using Franklin’s conceptual construal and also pay mind to or
express a sensitivity to the truth-value of proposed accounts as they are compared to
unfamiliar scenarios. Unlike Franklin’s earlier worry about what determines our
preference of certain beliefs to others, Fine’s suggestion that a set of propositions must
have true members avoids theoretical divergence since the resource for her view relies on
whether a proposition is in fact true. Fine’s truth-value criterion seems to contradict
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Franklin’s claim that “the demand for consistency gives us no reason to prefer one
revision to another” (354). However, Franklin’s use of “consistency” here may refer to
consistency within beliefs as opposed to consistency with reference to what is true about
the beliefs, as Fine’s account implies.
To illustrate how Fine’s need for truth-value works with Franklin’s conceptual
construal, let us once again examine the slave-boy interrogation. The slave tries to
provide Socrates with an answer about the area of the square but the proposed answer is
shown by Socrates to be incorrect. This does not show that the boy is wholly ignorant
about squares since he can identify the property square and talk about it ordinarily. So
with the help of conceptual construal, i.e., comparing his rudimentary grasp of square
with his candidate answer and an unfamiliar scenario consisting of Socrates showing the
flaw in the boy’s answer, the boy is able to realize the correct answer. In addition, he is
able to arrive at the correct answer by observing the truth of the square’s area. In other
words, he notices and expresses a sensitivity to the truth-value about the square’s
dimensions and is able to adjust the beliefs that are elicited from his rudimentary grasp.
Perhaps the boy realizes that he answered too quickly and failed to fully take the
available information of the square’s dimensions into consideration.
One might be inclined to say, however, that the truth-values for Meno are a bit
more obscure. In other words, virtue seems to have a more abstract nature than that of a
square so true statements based on how virtue is represented in the real world may be
more difficult to come by. I suggest two ways to understand this.
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One way is that we cannot arrive at concrete answers about virtue using
Franklin’s conceptual construal and Fine’s criteria for truth since virtue cannot be
examined for truth-values in the way physical objects can be examined. What I mean is
that there seem to be concrete truths about squares that are not controversial. One can
deduce facts about a square’s diagonal being the length of another square that is double
the original square’s area by merely observing the truth-value of the original square. In
contrast, one might say that virtue does not possess these concrete truths since virtue is an
abstract concept. We cannot observe virtue in the real world as we would observe
physical objects. More importantly, it seems that the characteristics of physical objects
are much more obvious and can be realized through minimal amounts of dialectic since
these characteristics can be easily observed. In the slave-boy interrogation, the boy’s
answers are quickly dismissed and corrected with help from Socrates and reference to the
square figure that Socrates draws. There is no need for any heavy clarification about
terms employed to identify a square or propositional beliefs about squares. The search for
virtue’s definition, however, calls for more advanced inquiry since virtue cannot be
examined in a way that a square can be examined. One cannot draw virtue in the sand as
Socrates does with the square. So this line of thought suggests that Franklin’s guiding
principle and Fine’s criteria for truth can only be applied to observable objects and not
abstract ones. I find this view to be incomplete and unsatisfying since it seems more can
be said about the guiding principle’s application.
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The second way to understand this is to agree with the notion that virtue is a
concept created through language and does not seem to possess concrete, observable facts
as squares or other physical objects do. Despite its origin, however, the concept of virtue
can still possess true statements about it in regard to how virtue has been viewed and
conceived over the course of time. More specifically, what is true of virtue would consist
of how virtue has been characterized historically. This suggests that humans have indeed
attributed certain characteristics to the concept of virtue in a way that does not convey
objective facts as with physical objects. Still, virtue can contain truth-values with respect
to the kinds of statements that have been agreeably attached to virtue.
So, in the set of propositions about virtue, some true propositions might include
fragmented descriptions of virtue that do not encompass virtue entirely when the
descriptions are examined individually. Combined with other true propositions about
virtue, however, the individual statements work together as a set to form a true belief or
even a definitional account grounded in knowledge if the entire set is nothing but true
propositions. Again, for one to favor beliefs on this account, they must match their
statements with how true something is, i.e., the statements are true if they match how
virtue is represented in the world with respect to virtue’s historical characterization.
One thing to note about this account is that it still makes it extremely difficult, if
not impossible, for one to possess a set of nothing but true statements, which would
presumably allow for one to have definitional knowledge. Surely even true beliefs about
virtue, which are sets that contain mostly true propositions and a minimal amount of false
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ones, will be difficult to construct since one has to take into consideration an incredible
amount of historical context with how virtue has been characterized. Full-blown
knowledge (a definitional account), then, would be even more difficult, if not impossible,
to achieve since one would have to consider all the previous accounts of virtue.
Theoretically, however, it is not impossible, since Fine’s argument suggests that whoever
knows has some content of his knowledge and a knower knows something that is true. If
the criteria for having knowledge, then, is to possess a set with all true beliefs, i.e., take
into consideration every true statement of virtue that has been agreed upon historically,
then in theory, one could spend countless hours being exposed to historically documented
beliefs about virtue until one possesses a set of nothing but true beliefs. When Meno
questions the several speeches he has made about virtue in the past, his shortcoming
could be interpreted as merely a lack of all true propositions about virtue. Surely he might
possess a number of true propositions but because the possibility of possessing all true
propositions in a set is only theoretically possible, Meno can only strive to improve his
set to the best of his ability. It would seem to be an incredible task for Meno to try and
possess every true statement about virtue that has been established historically.
Another point of interest has to do with the content of Fine’s suggested set of
propositions. Plato’s criteria for knowledge calls for an explanatory account of F in a way
where the explanatory account is the overarching understanding that encompasses all
instances and examples of virtue. The Meno, for instance, shows Socrates asking Meno
for a definitional account of virtue that mimics Socrates’ definitional account for shape. I
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am curious as to whether the set of propositions Fine suggests can contain a proposition
that unifies all the other propositions as opposed to the kind of understanding located in
the realm of Being as it is represented on the Divided Line. In other words, I am talking
about the possibility that one proposition can tie the other propositions together in a way
where the single unifying proposition, which is also located in the set, is meant to make
sense of all of the other true propositions. Perhaps this unique, unifying proposition’s
duty is merely to unite and make sense of all the other true propositions. I assume that
one arrives at this proposition after accumulating several true propositions. If this is the
case, then this final, unifying proposition serves as the last piece of the puzzle, so to
speak. It is the proposition that allows one to possess a definitional account by making
sense of all of the other propositions in one’s set.
Conclusion
With Fine’s interpretation of the veridical reading, which suggests that knowledge
is a set of true propositions and belief is a set containing both true and false propositions,
it seems that the guiding principle Franklin is looking for lies in the fact that we can
revise our proposed accounts until our set of propositions contains nothing but true
members. It is not so much that we rely on the Forms via recollection in a literal sense;
rather, we first identify a property at the rudimentary level and are at least able to talk
about it generally. From this point, one can draw out further beliefs by seeing if candidate
answers to the “What is F?” question fit the general and rudimentary concepts formed by
one’s basic comprehension such that candidate answers match our rudimentary
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understanding of F. During this process, our set of propositions contain a number of true
and false propositions, so we must make it so that our set of propositions contains all true
statements that align with our rudimentary understanding. This is done through the
dialectic method, as shown by Socrates’ elenchus. We can revise our set of propositions
with physical objects, such as the slave-boy’s square, by construing our rudimentary
comprehension with a proposed account and being presented with an unfamiliar scenario.
Furthermore, the slave-boy must realize truths about the square by observing the square
as it is represented in the real world. Observing truth-values can also work for abstract
concepts such as virtue or justice by taking into consideration and showing sensitivity to
the truth-value of how these abstract concepts have been characterized historically.
Utilizing Fine’s account, Franklin’s interpretation of Plato’s recollection as an elicitation
of beliefs from rudimentary comprehension is enhanced and made clear by way of
considering the guiding principle to be that of conceptual construal and an evaluation and
refinement of truth-values within our set of propositions. That is, as long as the set of
elicited beliefs are in fact true or possesses mostly true propositions, then Franklin’s
solution to Meno’s paradox as conceptual construal will provide a coherent account of
how one prefers some beliefs to others.
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