Euthyphro’: Holiness and the Socratic Method - Giorgi Gvaradze

Plato’s Euthyphro, set in 399 BC, is one of four Socratic works which take place around the time of Socrates’ trial and death (the others being Apology, Crito and Phaedo). More importantly, it is one of the five socalled ‘virtue dialogues’, as it explores what the Ancient Greek world considered one of the highest virtues – holiness, or piety. As such, it is one of the best displays of the ‘Socratic method’, which seeks to educate through relentless and minute questioning in a conversation. Not only do the ideas presented remain a strong challenge to anyone who believes that morality comes purely from God’s will, but, perhaps, the way in which Socrates forces his arrogant conversation partner to endlessly shift and get lost in his own argument can teach us a valuable lesson for our age.

The dialogue begins as the eponymous Euthyphro, an Athenian prophet, starts a discussion with Socrates in the Agora. As the latter reveals that he has received notice of persecution against him from a certain Meletus, the former says that, as it happens, he is launching a persecution himself. For his father, having punished a murderous slave by binding and throwing him into a ditch (to await further action), has caused the slave’s death of exposure and thirst, leading Euthyphro, with much protest from his relatives, to take legal action against his own father. While it may seem like a curious coincidence that two people who are both due to appear in the courts just happen to have stumbled into a conversation with each other, the likelihood of such an event was actually quite high in Athens. Having just emerged from the tyrannical rule of the ‘Thirty’ and with its democracy reestablished, the city once again became very litigious in the early 4th Century BC. Jurors were paid daily and selected annually from a pool of 6,000 adult men. In a flowering democracy, not only was this a way to exercise a right, but also a very entertaining time for spectators, as the best speakers in the law courts often appealed to the crowd with their quick wit and improvisation.

In any case, Euthyphro justifies the decision to go after his kin with the affirmation that what he is doing is ‘holy’. To Socrates’ seemingly straightforward question of what exactly ‘holiness’ means, accompanied by the philosopher’s typical snide flattery, Euthyphro brings up an example, like many of Socrates’ examinees. This is not a satisfactory answer; an example is not the universal definition required. One is indeed offered by the prophet. He defines holiness in terms of what is approved by the gods. But, as our knowledge of Greek mythology can tell us, the gods’ countless squabbles have ensured that it is rather difficult to pick out one thing on which they all agree. Accordingly, Socrates points out that what one god may consider a good action, another may consider an evil one. Though this leads us into the statement that what is divinely approved is, at the same time, divinely disapproved, the philosopher concedes for the sake of argument. So, the definition that both decide to run with becomes “what all the gods disapprove of is unholy, what all approve of is holy, and what some approve of and others disapprove of is neither or both.”

Had Euthyphro been in a discussion with someone else, it is very likely the pair would have left it at that. But that is not the Socrates we know and love. It is here that we come to arguably the most famous parts of the dialogue, begun by the question “is the holy approved by the gods because it is holy, or is it holy because it’s

approved?” The philosopher provides some examples: we speak of things ‘being carried’ and ‘carrying’, ‘being led’ and ‘leading’ and so on and so forth. So, it makes sense that there is something which is ‘approved’, and different from that which is ‘approving’. All these examples are being something by virtue of getting that something done to them. What’s ‘being carried’ is so because it ‘gets carried’; what’s ‘being led’ is so because it ‘gets led’. Therefore, something which is ‘being approved’ is so because it ‘gets approved’. Euthyphro agrees to this. However, when asked about the ‘holy’, he is led on by Socrates to say that “it gets approved because it is holy, it’s not holy by reason of getting approved.” This is a direct contradiction to the earlier proposition that something is ‘approved’ because it ‘gets approved’. With this, and the earlier definition that what’s holy is what’s approved by the gods, we have established that the opposite is true –‘divinely approved’ does not equal ‘holy’.

Understandably, Euthyphro is frustrated, and accuses Socrates of causing his explanations to go around in circles. After all, here he is, a religious authority, with his arguments on ‘the holy’ dismantled by a philosopher who claims to be much more ignorant on the topic than him. He, with Socrates’ help, now switches to a new definition – all that is holy is just. It logically follows that while all that is holy may be just, not all that is just is holy. Euthyphro is required to say precisely which part of justice is holy. Going back to his pious standpoint, he says that holy is that part of justice which looks after the gods. With some further meandering and Socrates’ manipulation, we come to the point where ‘gratification’ is how the gods benefit from this service of ours. Euthyphro affirms that this is what they most approve of. And so, like that, we are back to square one. Holiness is once again defined as what the gods approve of. After that, Euthyphro excuses himself for “an urgent engagement somewhere” else, without admitting a single error. The concept of ‘holiness’ is left undefined, and Socrates is left disappointed.

What is it that we can learn from all of this? What Socrates himself thought is vague. The function of these kinds of dialogues is not to teach, but to make us think of the virtues, what they are and how we may achieve them. The search for this truth is exemplified in his method of subtle questioning and manipulation of someone who not only thinks himself to be an expert on a topic but is also blindly trusted by the public. Socrates was soon to be tried and executed by people who, in accusing him, clung to the same wide and virtue-related ideas, claiming that he was “corrupting the minds of the young” and inventing his own deities. In reality, the ma jority who preferred to follow than to think had enough of his pestering analysis and examination of, mostly, role-model figures. It seems that the demagoguery of the few overcame Socrates in the end. Athens lost one of its greatest ever minds through her own actions.

Today, on both sides of the political spectrum, there are those who claim that what they believe is so correct, that it is not even a matter for discussion. Either you are with them and also doing the right thing, or against them, doing the wrong one. This, to me, is very worrying. Instead of falling prey to the ideology of crowds, perhaps all of us could try being a bit more Socratic, and not be as assured in our righteousness as Euthyphro. We should force ourselves to ask questions, especially of those who not only claim to know more, but who also hold largely unchallenged positions of influence, or power. Of this, Euthyphro remains a perfect example. After all, as Plato’s dialogues remind us, and as Socrates himself said, truly the wisest man knows that he knows nothing.