Plato and the goodness of the body, part 6. The Phaedo's anti-body texts
b) The Phaedo’s anti-body texts
One thinks of the notorious passages in the Phaedo in which Socrates speaks of the body as like a prison for
the soul. The philosopher longs for death so that s/he can be separated from
the body.
Now I do think that Plato’s assessment of the
body in the Phaedo is inadequate.
But, rather than simply dismissing it, we need to attempt to understand it in
the context of the dialogue itself and the Platonic corpus more widely. The
matter is not as bleak as we may think.
First, Plato’s interest in the Phaedo is not the body at all, but the
soul. The whole discussion is an attempt to provide a case for the immortality
of the soul.[1]
Part of the case involves contrasting body and soul in ways that cast the body
in a dim light in order to set the soul off in stark contrast. One needs to
appreciate that the rhetorical context drives some of the somewhat drastic
language and imagery. The picture presented is a call to seek the welfare of
the soul and the virtual annihilation of the body. But this “soul not body” language is simply a way of forcibly
saying “soul more than body.” The
actual point, put in less rhetorically stark terms, is found in Socrates’ words
at his trial: “I go around doing nothing but persuading both young and old
among you not to care for your body or your wealth in preference to or as strongly as for the best possible state of
your soul” (Apology 30a-b).[2]
Second, as D. C. Schindler observes,
Socrates does not say that the body imprisons the soul but that the soul imprisons herself in the body (Phaedo 82e). What Socrates is referring
to is the way in which the body can mislead the soul by overpowering the soul through
bodily sensory inputs and desires into imagining that the most real is what we
can see and hear and touch and taste. This, to borrow from an image in the Republic, is to mistake the shadow on
the cave wall for the reality. To rightly order soul and body is to struggle
against the body’s tendency to invert the relationship between body and soul.
If the soul surrenders to this it, in effect, imprisons itself. The
philosopher’s resistance to the body’s fight to dominate, says Socrates,
involves a kind of separation of body from soul—a kind of death. But this is
not a literal separation (at least, not prior to actual death): it is a
cognitive separation that trains the soul and body to be rightly aligned. And,
while this is not Plato’s point in the Phaedo,
it is for the good of the body as well as the soul that one resist the body’s
attempted coup. Here is Schindler on the negative consequence of the soul
submitting to the body’s attempt to rule:
[T]his
inversion would in fact by that very stroke eliminate the body’s and thus the
senses’ expressive character. In other words, to take the natural world in its materiality as a positive thing
in itself separate from its subordination to meaning and thus its expressiveness
is to destroy it as image, to render it mute. It thus becomes dead “stuff.” The
world surrenders its meaning, and the soul becomes entangled in the push and
pull of pleasure and pain as so many mechanistic and therefore unintelligible,
noncausal, forces. . . . The irony now ought to be clear: owing to
the paradoxical nature of image, the inversion of the body-soul relationship is
deeply problematic, not (only) because it trivializes the soul, but because it
subsequently trivializes the body. In other words, the absolutizing of the
physical fails to accord the physical its due goodness—i.e., it empties of the
goodness it can possess only as receiving . . . . But this means
that sometimes the vehement condemnations of the body’s tendency to claim
ascendancy over the soul that we find in classical literature, both pagan and
Christian, may indeed be a zealous affirmation and protection of the body’s significance.
. . . One cannot insist on the body’s significance without at the
same time insisting on a hierarchical relationship to spirit.[3]
Schindler’s point is that given Plato’s view regarding of the sensory
world as image of the forms, expressing the eternal in time, with particulars
(including bodies) participating in universal forms in order to have any meaning
or significance at all, one must put the body in its place for the sake of the body itself. To fail to do so evacuates the
body of all goodness and beauty and meaning; indeed, of any intelligibility
(and hence being) at all.
That is the philosophical context within which
we must understand the negative comments about the body in the Phaedo. Even so, Plato’s rhetoric does make
for some uncomfortable reading if one’s goal is to affirm the goodness of the
body. However, as noted above, that was not
Plato’s goal in Phaedo so he does not
attempt to mitigate his harsh words when putting the body in its place.
Third, Plato’s philosophy was dynamic and
developing. I do not see any major disjunctions in his thought from the early
to the late works, but one can trace modifications and developments, in
continuity with his basic philosophical orientation.[4]
And in relation to the body Plato develops his philosophy in directions that
bring out the positive potential that we have seen even in the infamous Phaedo itself.
Iakovos Vasiliou has argued that it was the
subsequent development of Plato’s tripartite view of the soul that allowed him
to moderate the apparent hostility to the body found in the Phaedo.[5]
In the Phaedo “[t]he body is viewed
as a recalcitrant ‘other thing’ that can only be avoided, shunned, and
admonished, mastered, and punished.”[6]
There is no suggestion that one can educate or habituate the body. The Republic, in Books II and III, provides
a contrast. There, engaging in the right bodily practices, thereby forming the
right habits, is essential for the education of both body and soul (cf. 395d). Habituation
is fundamental to the Republic’s
training in virtue. The soul benefits from its physical and musical training
(410c–411a). In the Phaedo the soul
was spoken of as purely rational and engaged the body as if it were some other hostile
thing that had to be tamed and forever held in check. In the Republic the notion of the soul has been
expanded to absorb the psychic elements of the body within itself.[7]
This allows for a far greater integration of body and soul and for a cessation
of hostilities between the warring parties, given sufficient training. “The more
elaborate psychology expands the educative possibilities. A habituated virtue,
which does not depend on a purely rational soul, is now possible.”[8]
Plato’s cosmological thought developed from the Phaedo to the Phaedrus to
the full-blown explorations in the Timaeus.[9]
And it is with this development that we see an increasingly positive assessment
of the body, as we have already noted in our earlier discussions of the Timaeus. With this comes a greater
appreciation of the bodily senses. Thus, Timaeus says, “our sight has indeed
proven to be a source of supreme benefit to us, in that none of our present
statements about the universe could ever have been made if we had never seen
any stars, sun, or heaven” (Timaeus
47a). And this positive assessment of the rightly ordered body is not the
result of Plato toning down his thinking on body and soul or on forms. Rather
it comes from pursuing the trajectories of thought he was already exploring. This
positive valuation of the body is, in other words, deeply Platonic.
[1] An attempt that,
in the assessment of most philosophers, falls short. Indeed, Socrates himself
seems aware that he has not managed to fully persuade his own audience, and so
in the end resorts to a “comforting story” about the afterlife. For a brief but
helpful assessment see Fred D. Miller Jr., “The Platonic Soul,” in Hugh H.
Benson (ed.), A Companion to Plato
(Oxford: Blackwell, 2009), 278–93.
[2] Which for
Christians may call to mind 1 Tim 4:8: “for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in
every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to
come.”
[3]
D. C. Schindler, The Catholicity of
Reason, 127, 128. See also D. C. Schindler, “Truth and the Christian
Imagination: The Reformation of Causality and the Iconoclasm of the Spirit.” Communio 33 (2006) 521–39
[4] The issue of the
interpretations of the differences between the dialogues remains a contentious
one. Interpreters tend to fall into one of three camps: (a) those who see a
single unchanging philosophy across the dialogues (with differences understood
as apparent and not real), (b) those that see stark discontinuities and
inconsistencies, and (c) those that find development within a broadly unitary
philosophy. The hermeneutical issues concern how to interpret the parts of the
corpus in the light of the whole (and vice versa), how we can know which
voice(s) in the dialogue represent Plato’s own views, and also whether we can
establish a reliable relative order for the dialogues. The majority view is
that the early works include texts such as Charmides,
Crito, Euthyphro, Gorgias, Hippias Major, Protagoras, The middle period
included the likes of Phaedo, Cratylus,
Symposium, Republic, and Phaedrus,
and the late works included Sophist,
Statesman, Timaeus, Critias, Philebus, and Laws. But it has to be said that the chronology is uncertain and
its hermeneutical significance is a contested issue.
[5]
Iakovos Vasiliou, “From the Phaedo to
the Republic: Plato’s Tripartate Soul
and the Possibility of Non-Philosophical Virtue.” In Rachel Barney et al.
(eds.), Plato and the Divided Self,
9–32. Plato speaks of the soul as an undifferentiated unity in the Phaedo. The tripartite soul first
appears in the Republic IV. In the
light of the later dialogues, the soul of the Phaedo is only a part of the whole soul—the immortal, intellectual
soul.
[6]
Ibid., 27.
[7] Plato
attributes passions and pleasures to the body in the Phaedo (65a; 66c; 81b; 83d; 94b) that he attributes in later texts
to the lower parts of the soul—those linked to embodiment. The living body in
the Phaedo has a psychic dimension
and is the active subject of perceiving. Later dialogues refer to this in terms
of the appetitive and spirited parts of the soul. This suggests a development
and refinement of his earlier views, not a contradiction of them.
[8]
Ibid., 29.
[9] See Cynthia
Freeland, “The Role of Cosmology in Plato’s Philosophy,” in Hugh H. Benson
(ed.), A Companion to Plato (Oxford:
Blackwell, 2009), 199–213.
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