LOGOS & EPISTEME, X, 1 (2019): 77-94 A GIFT FROM THE GODS: SOCRATIC KNOWLEDGE IN PLATO'S LATE DIALOGUES Daniel LARKIN ABSTRACT: While much attention has been paid to the role of divine inspiration in the case of Socrates within Plato's early and middle period dialogues, this paper examines Plato's late period works and argues that despite the drastic changes in methodology found in dialogues such as the Sophist and Philebus, Plato still acknowledges, and emphasizes, the role played by divine inspiration in regard to Socratic knowledge. KEYWORDS: Socrates, Late Dialogues, Divine Inspiration, daimonion As Plato transitioned into his late period, the character of Socrates no longer consistently resides at center-stage of the dialogues. In dialogues such as the Sophist and Statesman, for example, we find in his place the Eleatic Stranger, an individual who utilizes a new methodology, i.e., collection and division, in his efforts towards the acquisition of definitional knowledge. Given the change in cast and methodology of the Sophist, Statesman, as well as the Laws1, it could be argued that Plato finally dismisses the more supernatural aspects of his earlier work2, favoring instead the 1 Indeed, in the Laws, Socrates is absent entirely. Also, while the method of collection and division is not used by the Athenian Stranger in the Laws, it is, in contrast to the earlier, and even middle periods, similarly rigid and meticulous in its presentation, lacking any traces of the elenchtic questioning that drives those earlier dialogues. 2 As evidence to this claim, we find that throughout the early and middle period dialogues, Socrates consistently adheres to the warnings issued by his daimonion. Textual examples of such reliance include, but are in no way limited to: Apology 31c4-32a3, Euthydemus 272e1-3a3, and Phaedrus 242b-c. In addition to his daimonion, Socrates also consistently recognizes the legitimacy of divine inspiration in the case of certain individuals. Examples of such instances can be found in the Apology (22b8-c4), as well as the Ion (534b1-c7). And, while some scholars, Martha Nussbaum, "Commentary on Edmunds," Proceedings of the Boston Area Colloquium of Ancient Philosophy (1985) 1: 231-240, perhaps most notably, have dismissed these references to divine inspiration as instances of Socratic Irony, given the consistency of textual evidence to the contrary, such a position is, I would argue, untenable. For a comprehensive and thoroughly convincing argument that Plato took divine inspiration seriously throughout his early and middle periods, see Daniel Larkin 78 rigidly rational methodology prominently featured therein. Yet, while both the Eleatic Stranger of the Sophist and Statesman and the Athenian Stranger of the Laws, do not themselves directly appeal to the divine for assistance in their philosophical endeavors3, when we turn our attention to those dialogues of the late period where Socrates takes center stage, we are subject once more to a consistent appeal to the divine for assistance in his philosophical endeavor. Given this disparity, the question arises as to Plato's views on Socrates in this late period, in particular the role that divine inspiration plays in the case of Socratic knowledge. To answer this question, however, requires that we address a problem that arises in Plato's late period, i.e., the varying images of Socrates. To explain, in the late dialogues, we are given multiple images of Socrates, all of which are, at least on the surface, distinctly different than the last. In the Sophist, for example, we are presented with the image of Socrates as the 'noble sophist,' i.e., the individual who, through the elenchus, is able to purge his interlocutors of their false beliefs.4 In the Theaetetus, on the other hand, a dialogue that serves as the dramatic predecessor to the Sophist, we are presented with a slightly different image, i.e., Socrates as Mark L. McPherran, The Religion of Socrates (University Park: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 1996), as well as Thomas C. Brickhouse and Nicholas D. Smith, Plato's Socrates (New York: Oxford University Press, 1994). 3 It should be noted here that despite the Athenian Stranger's lack of appeal to the divine for direct assistance in his own presentation of the laws, it is argued consistently throughout the laws that the gods and their supreme wisdom must serve as the foundation for the laws of men. See Laws 903bb-905d, 907a, 967b. 4 While this is not explicitly stated to be describing Socrates in the dialogue itself, I would argue that we ought to understand the 6th definition as presented in the Sophist to be a description of Socrates. As we read at Soph. 230b3-c2, "They cross-examine someone when he thinks he is saying something though he is saying nothing. Then, since his opinions will vary inconsistently, these people will easily scrutinize them. They will collect his opinions together during the discussion, put them side by side, and show that they conflict with each other at the same time on the same subjects in relation to the same things and in the same respects. The people who are being examined see this, get angry at themselves, and become calmer towards others. They lose their inflated and rigid beliefs about themselves that way, and no loss is pleasanter to hear or has a more lasting effect on them." For support of this view, see C.C.W. Taylor, "Socrates the Sophist," in Remembering Socrates, ed. Lindsay Judson and Vassilis Karasmanis (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), 168. See also Dorothea Frede, "The Hedonist's Conversion: The Role of Socrates in the Philebus," in Form and Argument in Late Plato, ed. Cristopher Gill and M.M. McCabe (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996), 223. Frede notes that the 6th definition "seems to represent something like Plato's last word on Socrates." A Gift from the Gods: Socratic Knowledge in Plato's Late Dialogues 79 midwife. Here, Socrates is able to assist in the delivery of wisdom from within the mind of his interlocutor. And, while this may seem similar to the 'noble sophist' as described in the Sophist, given the more positive capacity exhibited by the expertise of mental midwifery, such an image of Socrates appears markedly different from the strictly purgative Socrates of the Sophist. Finally, in the Philebus, we are yet again presented with a seemingly distinct Socrates, one who takes up the method of collection and division as his weapon of choice in the search for the definition of the good life. As before, this new image of Socrates seems to be set apart from his fellow late period Socratic counterparts, most notably in his apparent acceptance of the superiority of the method of collection and division over his traditional elenchtic approach. Yet, despite these seemingly disparate depictions of Socrates, I would argue that we ought to see these varying images as one and the same character, with each depiction highlighting the strengths and weaknesses of Plato's mentor as he has now come to see him. And, while this position will be argued in full in the pages to follow, it is important to note here at the outset that, regardless of the differences in methodology utilized by the varying depictions, there arises a common thread that carries through these late period Socratic dialogues, i.e., Socrates' unwavering appeal and adherence to his divine voice. Given this consistency despite all else, it is my position that Plato maintains his continued belief regarding the influence of divine inspiration in the case of Socrates. Divine Inspiration in the Late Dialogues The Divine and the Statesman in the Statesman Given the many changes that arise in Plato's late period, before turning our attention to Socrates in particular, it is necessary to first establish that Plato's recognition of the validity of divine inspiration is not limited to a nostalgic portrait of his mentor. To do so, we look first to two dialogues of Plato's late period that do not feature Socrates as its protagonist, the Statesman and the Laws. Looking first to the Statesman, we find that, according to the Eleatic Stranger, the role of the divine is of significant importance to what Plato will regard as the true ruler.5 As the stranger explains, in order to establish stability, the rulers must 5 In this argument I follow closely that of Stephan Büttner, "Inspiration and Inspired Poets in Plato's Dialogues," in Plato and the Poets, ed. Pierre Destree and F.G. Hermann (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2011), 119-120. Daniel Larkin 80 possess the ability to reconcile seemingly incompatible individuals under their rule.6 As an example, the Stranger notes that, if not properly handled, a conflict will inevitably arise between those individuals who are more inclined towards the virtue of courage and those who favor a more moderate approach. While both courage and moderation are virtues to be praised, given the disparity between the two, the course of favored action between individuals occupying the opposing worldviews will quite often be in conflict. Thus, to avoid this potential confrontation, the ruler must possess the ability to 'interweave' the two together to create a harmony that is conducive to each individual, as well as the society at large. In response to the question posed in the dialogue by Young Socrates as to how the ruler is able to peacefully mix these two dichotomous individuals together, the Stranger explains that the ruler has two options: (1) through creating a mortal bond between the two, i.e., by uniting them through marriage,7 and (2) by "fitting together that part of their soul that is eternal with a divine bond."8 To elaborate on precisely what is meant by the forging of a "divine bond," the stranger explains as follows: I call divine, when it comes to be in souls, that opinion about what is fine and good, and the opposite of these, which is really true and guaranteed; it belongs to the class of the more human...Then we do recognize that it belongs to the statesman and the good legislator alone to be capable of bringing this thing about, by means of the music that belongs to the art of kingship, in those that had their correct share of education.9 Thus, the statesman possesses the ability to instill within the citizenry the correct opinions on matters of the Good, Beauty, Justice, etc., which, in turn, will prevent them from veering off into the extreme form of whatever virtue they may naturally favor. So, for instance, lacking in such guidance, the courageous individual will, through unchecked aggression, eventually become more of a beast than a man.10 As such, it is the responsibility of the true statesman to introduce the courageous individual to ideas that properly highlight the benefit of a more moderate approach in certain instances, to educate him in such a way as to instill a 6 Pol. 308d-309c. 7 Pol. 310b2-4. 8 Pol. 309c1-2. 9 Pol. 309c4-d5. 10 Pol. 309e1-4. A Gift from the Gods: Socratic Knowledge in Plato's Late Dialogues 81 balance in his soul.11 It is important to note, however, that the Statesman is not claimed to possess the knowledge of these things, but rather, merely the correct opinions. Thus, we are provided the image of the divinely inspired individual who, while lacking knowledge of their own, is in possession of correct opinions, i.e., they have access to truth.12 Further, given the sincerity of this description, not to mention the pivotal role this divinely gifted skill of interweaving plays for the stranger in the final definition of the true statesman, that Plato would ironically attribute this ability to divine provenance seems distinctly improbable.13 Divine Inspiration in the Laws In addition to the role of the divine in the Statesman, we also find instances within the Laws wherein the Athenian Stranger14 specifically refers to divine inspiration. 11 While there are indeed differences between the Republic and the Laws, I would contend that the two texts are, in fact, surprisingly similar, a point which can be seen here in the stated importance that the soul, and the balancing thereof, plays in the establishment of justice in the polis. For more on the similarities between the Laws and Republic, see Daniel Larkin, "Paint Him? I Hardly Know Him: Reconciling Plato's Aesthetics in the Laws and Republic Book X," Paper presented at the Society for Ancient Greek Philosophy Conference, New York, NY, 2015. 12 See Büttner, "Inspiration and Inspired Poets," 120. Büttner adds that such an image of the true statesman, i.e., one that, through a connection to the divine is in possession of correct opinions, and, as such, is able to properly guide his subjects in matters of ethics and morality, is consistent with earlier depictions of the divine ruler, most notably in the Meno 98e7-99d. 13 Büttner, "Inspiration and Inspired Poets," 120. 14 It has been suggested by some scholars (such as Leo Strauss, The Argument and the Action of Plato's Laws. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1975), and Thomas L. Pangle, "The Political Psychology of Religion in Plato's Laws," American Political Science Review 70, 4 (1976): 1059-77) that the Athenian Stranger represents Socrates. In support of this position, Aristotle's Politics 1265a is often referenced, as, transitioning from his analysis of the Republic to the Laws Aristotle writes, "Now it is true that all the discourses of Socrates possess brilliance, cleverness, originality and keenness of inquiry, but it is no doubt difficult to be right about everything." However, while this passage might be seen as Aristotle identifying Socrates as the Athenian Stranger, we find that Aristotle never explicitly states this connection. Further, later on in this same passage, Aristotle refers to the author of the Laws as 'the writer,' whereas in his description of the Republic the preceding passage, Aristotle consistently identifies Socrates by name. Additionally, given Plato's willingness to use Socrates in other late dialogues, it would seem odd that he would, in his final work, feel the need to hide Socrates behind a curtain of anonymity. In support of this position, see also Kevin M. Cherry, "Politics and Philosophy in Aristotle's Critique of Plato's Laws," in Natural Right and Political Philosophy: Essays in Honor of Catherine Zuckert and Michael Zuckert, ed. Ann Ward and Lee Ward (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2013), 50-66. On Cherry's Daniel Larkin 82 To begin, we look to 682a, where we read: He (Homer) composed these lines... under some sort of inspiration from God. And how true to life they are! This is because poets, as a class are divinely gifted and are inspired when they sing, so that with the help of Graces and Muses they frequently hit on how things really happen. Here we find direct testimony regarding the ability to those divinely inspired to gain access to truth. Note, however, the Stranger is not claiming that such moments of divine revelation result in the acquisition of knowledge, a point which is once more strikingly consistent with comments regarding divine inspiration as seen in the earlier dialogues, most notably the Apology.15 Yet, while the divinely inspired may lack knowledge insofar as he cannot provide an account for that which is gifted to him, he nevertheless stumbles upon the truth, an occurrence that arises with such consistency that it cannot be reduced to mere coincidence or luck. Interestingly, that Plato takes such moments of actual inspiration seriously is made clear in another passage found later in the Laws, one that serves as a warning of the potential dangers that arise from adhering to the revelations as given by the gods. We read at 719c: When a poet takes his seat on the tripod of the muse, he cannot control his thoughts. He is like a fountain where the water is allowed to gush forth unchecked. His art is the art of representation, and when he represents men with contrasting characters he is often obliged to contradict himself, and he does not know which of the opposing speeches contains the truth. But for the legislator this is impossible, he must not let his law say two different things on the same subject. From this section we might glean a number of important points. First, while the passage does indicate that the inspired poet cannot determine which of his gifted revelations contains the truth, we do find the Stranger indirectly noting that the truth is revealed. The problem, then, is not the source of the revelation, nor the potential veracity of such revelation, but rather the inspired individual's lack of understanding. In other words, we are once again given evidence that Plato, through the Athenian Stranger, recognizes that the truth can be, and is, revealed through moments of divine inspiration. Second, it is admittedly true that this passage is presented with an admonitory tone, warning us that the legislator cannot rely on divine inspiration in matters of law, as the contradictory accounts that so often view, "What (Aristotle) finds most praiseworthy about the Socratic dialogues-their searching, or zetetic character-seems to be wholly absent from the Laws." 15 Ap. 22c1-3. A Gift from the Gods: Socratic Knowledge in Plato's Late Dialogues 83 accompany revelation would be detrimental to the consistency required for a stable constitution. However, while this warning clearly indicates a hesitancy to rely upon divinely inspired revelation for matters of law, it does not condemn such revelation as chicanery, but rather, once more indicates a sincere belief in its legitimacy, albeit one that should be approached with caution. Images of Socrates in the Late Dialogues With the evidence from the Statesman and the Laws now established, we can proceed on to our analysis of Socrates and the role of divine inspiration in Plato's late dialogues. As noted above, while he is often silent, or even absent, from many of the later dialogues, he is very much present in others. This is most apparent in the Theaetetus, a dialogue which dramatically precedes the Sophist and Statesman, and in the Philebus, an oddly 'Socratic' dialogue wherein Socrates, though similar in many ways to the Socrates of the early period,16 often substitutes the elenchos for the new method of division. In addition to these two obvious examples, I would add a third, i.e., the image of Socrates as indirectly presented via the 6th definition of sophistry as found in the Sophist. And, while these three presentations of Socrates may, at first glance, strike us as three distinct representations of Socrates, I would argue that, when viewed through the lens of divine inspiration, these somewhat disparate images of Socrates are revealed as one and the same, each image providing a deeper insight into Plato's late understanding of his mentor, and the role that divine inspiration plays in his philosophical endeavors and ability. Setting the Stage for Change: Socrates as Midwife in the Theaetetus In terms of chronological events within the dialogues, the Theaetetus is the direct predecessor to the Sophist and Statesman. And, given the Sophist and Statesman both feature the Eleatic Stranger as its protagonist, it is of note that the Theaetetus features Socrates front and center, leading a discussion regarding the definition of 16 See Frede, "The Hedonist's Conversion," 215. Frede notes a number of striking similarities that are almost nostalgic in effect: (1) The dialogue begins abruptly, which recalls similar literary approaches as found in the Meno and Gorgias. (2) Socrates claims that moral mistakes are involuntary (22b). (3) The different pleasures and kinds of knowledge are afforded the opportunity to speak for themselves, which, as Frede notes, ought to remind us of the Crito, wherein the Laws themselves are personified. Daniel Larkin 84 knowledge. Interestingly, despite its late placement in the Platonic corpus, in many ways the Theaetetus may strike the reader as fairly reminiscent of the earlier Socratic dialogues, for not only is the dialogue fairly elenchtic in nature, but further, it ends in aporia!17 Yet, despite this familiar mise-en-scene, if examined closely, it becomes apparent that this familiarity is actually a forbearer of change for Plato, not only in terms of a break from the middle period,18 but also as an indication of the need for new developments, i.e., the methodology found predominantly in the Sophist and Statesman.19 In defense of this position, let us look first to the image of Socrates we are presented with at the beginning of the dialogue: Socrates as midwife. Typically speaking, a midwife is an individual who is instrumental in the birthing process, not only in their ability to rightly determine when a woman is pregnant, but further, and more importantly, aides in the delivery of that child. Regarding the midwifery of Socrates, however, there are some critical differences. As Socrates explains: 17 Tht. 210a8-b2. While the dialogue does successfully determine what knowledge is not, i.e., perception, true judgment, or an account added to true judgment, the discussion fails to find a satisfactory definition of knowledge. Also, given the contextual connection to the Sophist and the significant change in cast and methodology that comes with that dialogue, the methodology used by Socrates in the Theaetetus, and its failure to achieve satisfactory results in the eyes of the interlocutors, is, I believe, of significant importance. For the contrary position, i.e., that the Theaetetus does end with a positive account of knowledge (or at the very least, human knowledge) see David Sedley, The Midwife of Platonism: Text and Subtext in Plato's Theaetetus (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004). 18 M.F. Burnyeat, "Socratic Midwifery, Platonic Inspiration," Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies, 24 (1977): 7-16, argues that Plato appears to distance himself from the metaphysical commitments he introduced in his middle period, e.g., the theory of recollection, as well as, to an extent, the theory of the forms. Indeed, we see this at Tht. 188a, where the idea of recollection is somewhat dismissed outright. Further, and of particular interest, Burnyeat draws the distinction between the image of the barren midwife in the Theaetetus and that of the pregnant Socrates of the Symposium. In both dialogues, the imagery of pregnancy and delivery are used to explain the development of ideas, however, whereas in the Symposium, Socrates seems to be in possession of the wisdom himself, the Socrates of the Theaetetus cannot make such a claim, as he admits that he is barren. I agree with Burnyeat that this revisiting of theme is not coincidental, and would add that this once more indicates that Plato is rethinking and breaking from his more positive account of the Socratic method as found in the middle period. 19 Granted, the method of collection and division is utilized by Socrates in the Philebus. However, it is my contention that such use only further proves the point that Socrates is ill equipped to use the methodology, as his inability to utilize it properly shows. A Gift from the Gods: Socratic Knowledge in Plato's Late Dialogues 85 The difference is that I attend to men, not women, and that I watch over the labor of their souls, not of their bodies. And the most important thing about my art is the ability to apply all possible tests to the offspring, to determine whether the young mind is being delivered of a phantom, that is, an error, or a fertile truth.20 In short, Socrates aids in the delivery of wisdom, guiding his interlocutors in the development of their own beliefs and ideas. Further, in line with his consistent disavowal of knowledge, Socrates admits that, similar to actual midwives' inability to have children themselves, he is himself barren of all wisdom. Thus, Socrates explains, when an interlocutor does succeed in the discovery of wisdom through their interaction, it is not from Socrates that this wisdom arose, but from within the interlocutor alone.21 However, while Socrates adamantly maintains that any wisdom delivered is not his own, he does insist that he plays a critical role in the discovery of truth. As evidence to this claim Socrates points to those individuals who, failing to recognize the role of Socrates in the delivery process, mistakenly believe that the truth was discovered by their work alone. By Socrates' account, these unfortunate pupils who leave his tutelage prematurely, believing themselves to be fully capable of delivering additional truths without the assistance of their former midwife, are destined to fall back into the very ignorance from which he so selflessly delivered them. As Socrates explains: After they have gone away from me they have resorted to harmful company, with the result that what has remained in them has miscarried; while they have neglected the children I helped them bring forth, and lost them, because they set more value upon lies and phantoms than upon the truth; finally they have been set down for ignorant fools, both by themselves and by everyone else.22 Thus, based on this testimony, it is clear that Socrates believes that he plays a fundamental role in the delivery of wisdom from the minds of his interlocutors. Yet, this certainty on the part of Socrates regarding his role in both the delivery, and rearing, of truth should strike us as perplexing. Given his admitted lack of wisdom, questions arise as to how Socrates is able to (1) exude such confidence in his ability, (2) successfully determine who is (and is not) worthy of his tutelage, and (3) successfully determine which ideas are in fact true. And, similar to the evidence found in the early dialogues regarding Socrates' seemingly inexplicable abilities, we 20 Tht. 150b7-c3. 21 Tht. 150d6-7. 22 Tht. 150e2-151a. Daniel Larkin 86 find that the answer to each of these questions arises through an appeal to divine inspiration. Beginning with the first inquiry regarding the confidence exuded by Socrates regarding his own abilities, we find that, similar to statements made as early as the Apology,23 the reason why the Socrates of the Theaetetus engages in such mental midwifery is that he is compelled by the god to do so.24 Indeed, as Socrates notes, not only is his engagement in mental midwifery ordered by the god, but further, it is the god himself that leaves Socrates barren.25 Thus, given this lack of wisdom, it cannot be the case that Socrates, in recognition of his own wisdom, feels obligated to instruct others. Rather, it is divine command alone that serves as the catalyst, spurring him on towards the assisting of young minds in the development of their ideas. And, given Socrates' belief in the superiority of divine wisdom to human wisdom,26 a point made clear to Socrates throughout his life via the advice of his daimonion, the origin of Socrates' confidence regarding his role as midwife is made quite clear. Moving now to the question of Socrates's determination of which students are worthy of his assistance, we find once more Socrates directly attributing this ability to the divine. As we read at 151a1-6: Sometimes (those that leave) come back, wanting my company again, and ready to move heaven and earth to get it. When that happens, in some cases the divine sign that visits me forbids me to associate with them; in others, it permits me, and then they begin to make progress. We see here, yet again, direct testimony to the involvement of the daimonion in the decision making process of Socrates. What is also of interest here is the similarity to the description of the daimonion as understood in the early dialogues, both dissuading Socrates from engaging in activities that he ought to avoid,27 as well as the more positive act of permitting other action.28 The point here is that we find a continued acceptance of Socratic appeal to the divine in these later dialogues, an 23 See Zina Giannopoulou, Plato's Theaetetus as a Second Apology (Oxford University Press, 2013), for a critical comparison of the Theaetetus and Apology. 24 Tht. 150c9, Ap. 30e, 28e, 29d. 25 Tht. 150c8. 26 Ap. 23a4-b2. 27 For example, engaging in a life of politics. See Ap. 31c4-32a3 28 As we find at Ap. 40c1, Socrates notes that the silence of his divine sign is to be taken as affirmation of his course of action. A Gift from the Gods: Socratic Knowledge in Plato's Late Dialogues 87 acceptance that is consistent in manner and tone. In other words, if it were the case that Plato were trying to distance himself from the more fantastical aspects of Socrates ability from the early dialogues, one might think that by the time he set out to write the Theaetetus, an intricately woven treatise on the nature of human knowledge, such whimsical references to the supernatural would be absent, or at the very least relegated to a significantly diminished role. However, given Socrates' consistent and unapologetic appeals to the wisdom of such divine insight, it is difficult to see how such a claim could withstand this blatant textual evidence to the contrary. Finally, we look to the most interesting of the above concerns, i.e., how Socrates, a man who lacks all wisdom himself, is able to determine which ideas are true, and which are false. To answer this, let us look very briefly to the methodology employed by Socrates in the Theaetetus. In the Theaetetus we are once more presented with a Socrates who consistently admits his own ignorance, knowing nothing of the topic at hand himself.29 And, while this may not seem a remarkable point, we find that such consistent admissions of absolute ignorance are, in a way, a return to form for Socrates. To explain, while the earlier dialogues are rife with such pleas of ignorance, as Plato develops into his middle period, we find a change in the character of Socrates as well.30 Specifically, in such middle period dialogues as the Meno, Republic, and Symposium, we find Socrates now holding a variety of metaphysical commitments, e.g., recollection, the forms, etc., that neither the Socrates of the early dialogues, nor the Socrates found in the Theaetetus maintain. Thus, with the image of Socrates as midwife we find Plato giving up on many of the conventions introduced in his middle period, conventions that, I would argue, were used as attempts to build upon the Socratic method, allowing for a more positive methodology, as opposed to one used merely to expose the inconsistencies in the beliefs of others.31 Thus, the Socrates of the Theaetetus does not possess any wisdom of his own. Thus, he does not, and cannot, impregnate his interlocutors with his own ideas as sophists do,32 but rather, merely assists in the delivery via the elenchtic form of questioning more reminiscent of his earlier engagements. 29 Tht. 151c4-d1, 161b1-b4, 161e5-8, 184b. 30 Gregory Vlastos, Socrates: Ironist and Moral Philosopher. Cornell Studies in Classical Philology, 50 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 46-49. See also, Burnyeat, "Socratic Midwifery." 31 See also, Burnyeat, "Socratic Midwifery," 57. 32 Tht. 151b. Daniel Larkin 88 Yet, despite his lack of wisdom, we recall that, in the Theaetetus, Socrates does claim that he is able to determine which ideas are worthy and which should be discarded. Since such determination cannot be the result of his own wisdom (as he admits none of his own), I would once more suggest that, on the view of Socrates, this inexplicable ability is made possible, at least in part, by divine assistance, a claim which, again, is admitted to by Socrates himself.33 This claim is supported by a number of factors: (1) As noted above, in his description of his own ability, Socrates consistently refers to divine influence as a major component of his craft. (2) The image of Socrates as midwife that we are presented with in the Theaetetus is quite similar to the Socrates of the early dialogues, i.e., an individual who, unlike the more protreptic figure of the middle dialogues, is able to properly guide his interlocutor away from false beliefs without admitting any wisdom of his own, yet, is effectively guided by his divine sign. And, (3) given Plato's acceptance of divine inspiration as a plausible source of assistance in these earlier works,34 when we consider the nostalgic portrayal of Socrates found in the Theaetetus, it stands to reason that we ought take Socrates (and thus Plato) at his word regarding the role of the divine in the case of Socrates in the Theaetetus. Evidence from the Philebus Yet, while the Theaetetus might provide us with an image of Socrates as reliant upon divine inspiration, the image of the midwife is not the only version of Socrates we are given in the late period. Indeed, in what would seem to be a directly contradictory image to the classically elenchtic Socrates of the Theaetetus, we find in the Philebus a Socrates that seems to do away with the elenchos altogether in favor of the method of collection and division! Yet, despite these disparate appearances, I would argue that the evidence in the Philebus only lends additional support to my position. My reasons are as follows: (1) Socrates is not especially adept in his deployment of the method of division, a lack of expertise which I will argue only helps prove my position that Plato does not consider Socrates to be a philosopher in the unqualified sense at this later stage of Plato's development. (2) While Socrates does indeed use the new method of collection and division, to aide in his progress he consistently appeals to, and relies upon, divine assistance. Thus, while the Socrates of the Philebus, insofar as he discards the elenchos in favor of the 33 Tht. 150d7-e2. See also Burnyeat, "Socratic Midwifery," 60-61. Burnyeat here points to such a possibility, though he does not strongly commit. 34 See n. 2 A Gift from the Gods: Socratic Knowledge in Plato's Late Dialogues 89 method of collection and division, may, prima facie, appear to be in direct opposition to the image of Socrates as depicted in the 6th definition of the Sophist (let alone the midwife of the Theaetetus), I would argue that upon closer examination, the seemingly different images of Socrates we are given are not as disparate as they might first appear. Socrates and the Method of Division It is widely accepted that the Philebus should be counted amongst Plato's latest dialogues.35 Given the dialogue's placement in the corpus, and, considering the diminished role of Socrates in the late period, the question arises as to why Plato would choose Socrates as his protagonist. In answer to this question, some scholars have suggested that perhaps the reemergence of Socrates is owed to the ethical nature of the discussion at hand.36 Yet, while I do agree that the earlier dialogues do primarily focus on more practical matters, such concerns are not entirely absent in the late period, especially when taking the overall project of the Laws into consideration.37 If the sole reason for Socrates' resurrection was simply on account of the topic's connection to more traditionally Socratic themes, then it seems odd to render him silent or absent entirely from other dialogues which feature similar connections to earlier dialogues.38 35 See Leonard Brandwood, The Chronology of Plato's Dialogues (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), and G.R. Ledger, Re-counting Plato: A Computer Analysis of Plato's Style (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1989), cited in Frede, "The Hedonist's Conversion," 214. 36 R.A.H. Waterfield, "The Place of the 'Philebus' in Plato's Dialogues", Phronesis 25, no. 3 (1980): 270-305. 37 It should be noted that Socrates' general interest in matters pertaining to ethics does not preclude his interest in other, more theoretical fields of inquiry. For example, there is evidence to suggest that Socrates, as early as the Euthyphro, was very much concerned with epistemological issues, as well as matters of methodology. It is perhaps too long of an argument to make in full here, however, I will point out that we need think only of Socrates' response to Euthyphro's first attempt to define piety. On Socrates' view, Euthyphro's first attempt fails to capture the definition of piety itself, as it is merely an example of an action that might be considered pious. Indeed, given Socrates' attention to acquiring the proper definition, one that satisfies the definitional requirements stipulated by Socrates, it is not altogether clear that we can entirely divorce the epistemological from the moral in these early dialogues. 38 See Frede, "The Hedonist's Conversion," 215. On Frede's view, not only would Socrates, on these grounds, be qualified to lead the discussion regarding the ideal state as found in the Laws, but similarly, in the Timaeus 19b-20c, Socrates would appear qualified and willing to discuss the ideal state, and yet, passes this duty on to Timaeus and Critias. Daniel Larkin 90 Given the implausibility of the above suggestion, I would argue that there must exist other reasons as to Plato's selection of Socrates in the Philebus. And, in this vein, I agree with Dorothea Frede's claim that Plato's use of Socrates in the Philebus was, at least in part, to distinguish Socrates from the master dialectician.39 To quickly recap, while Socrates does indeed discuss the 'divine method' of division, and further, uses it throughout the dialogue to determine the proper ranking of goods,40 the dialogue ends with Protarchus noting to Socrates that the task is not complete, and that Socrates should continue on to finish what he started.41 And, while this incomplete result is fairly common (if not expected) for a 'Socratic' dialogue, when compared to the Sophist and Statesman, two dialogues that feature the same method of collection and division, we find the conclusions to be strikingly different, as both dialogues end with a clear agreement that a definition has been reached by the Eleatic Stranger. Looking first to the Sophist 268c7-268d, we find the following exchange to close out the dialogue: VISITOR: Shall we weave his name together from start to finish and tie it up the way we did before? THEAETETUS: Of Course. VISITOR: Imitation of the contrary-speech producing, insincere and unknowing sort, of the appearance making kind of copy making, the word juggling part of production that's marked off as human and not divine. Anyone who says the sophist is of this 'blood and family' will be saying, it seems, the complete truth. THEAETETUS: Absolutely. Further, a definitive conclusion of this sort is echoed in the Statesman as well, for, at the end of the Statesman, following the final recap of their efforts towards defining the statesman, Socrates himself responds as follows at 311c4-7: "Another most excellent portrait, visitor, this one that you have completed for us, of the man who possesses the art of kingship: the statesman."42 We find then a striking contrast between the three dialogues: While all three dialogues feature the method of division, only those wherein it is the Eleatic stranger leading the discussion does the discussion conclude definitively. On the other hand, in the Philebus, where it is Socrates, not the Stranger, using the method of division, 39 See Frede, "The Hedonist's Conversion," 229-232. 40 Phil 66a-d. 41 Phil. 67b. 42 Italics added for emphasis. A Gift from the Gods: Socratic Knowledge in Plato's Late Dialogues 91 we are left wanting, as the dialogue ends in incompletion. Given this inconclusiveness, I would once more state that this is precisely the point, i.e., that Plato, through his use of Socrates in this way, is demonstrating the need for a mastery of this new method if one is to achieve definitive results. And, given his affinity for Socrates, and the skill exhibited by Socrates throughout Plato's corpus, that Socrates would be shown to be inefficient is perhaps that most compelling way for Plato to emphasize this point. The Role of Divine Inspiration in the Philebus Yet, while it is true that Socrates ultimately fails to bring about the definitive conclusion presented in other late dialogues, I would argue that we are not to take this failure as an indication that Plato has lost faith in the methodology or ability of his mentor. In fact, I would suggest that, similar to the depictions of Socrates we are given in the Theaetetus and Sophist, the Socrates of the Philebus is presented as a reflection of Plato's mature understanding of his teacher, one which, as with those other depictions already described, once more prominently features an attention to the role of divine inspiration in the methodology of Socrates. To begin, it should be noted that, despite his failure to properly execute the method of division, Socrates is still able to proceed quite far into the discussion. This ability to do so despite his lack of expertise is particularly interesting, especially when we consider Socrates' consistent appeal to the divine throughout the dialogue: (1) The method itself is called, by Socrates, the "divine method" (18b6), (2) there is a prayer for divine assistance to help establish the fourfold division of all being (25b), (3) Socrates consistently refers to the difference between the human and divine mind (22c), and (4) Socrates appeals to the differences between the divine and human ideal condition (33b).43 In this evidence we see, once again, that Socrates, even when utilizing the new, rigid method of division, does not waver from his appreciation of divine assistance. Yet, while this attention to divine influence should be of no surprise at this point in the case of Socrates, we are presented with one extraordinary piece of textual evidence that demands our attention. Following his praiseful description of the divine method of division, we find, now faced with a potential roadblock in in their discussion, Socrates, abandoning the method of division, proclaims that they 43 Frede, "The Hedonist's Conversion," n. 36. It should be added that points (3) and (4), while not directly related to divine assistance, do reinforce the idea that Socrates would take seriously the wisdom of the divine over human wisdom. Daniel Larkin 92 need not be concerned, as, "some memory has come to my mind that one of the gods seems to have sent me to help us."44 This single line is of exceptional importance as, in striking contrast to the apotreptic messages of the daimonion in which Socrates was warned against a particular course of action, here, in the Philebus, we are given textual evidence wherein Socrates is claiming to have received a positive message directly from the gods. And, in the context of the dialogue, this revelation bestowed upon Socrates, i.e., that neither pleasure nor knowledge is the good, but rather a third thing which is superior to both, is instrumental for the remainder of the discussion. Granted, one could argue that such a direct appeal to the divine ought to be taken as an ironic gesture. However, given the staggering amount of evidence that has been presented against such a claim, evidence that is found throughout the entire Platonic corpus, such a claim seems, to me, to be particularly unfounded. Thus, instead of approaching this problem from a skeptic's perspective, I suggest that we take this moment of positive divine influence with the utmost sincerity, as doing so would provide us insight into how we are to understand Socrates in Plato's later dialogues. To explain, as we have seen, the Socrates of the Philebus is presented as not entirely skilled regarding the method of division. And yet, he is able to continue the discussion significantly further than would be expected for someone lacking in expertise. And, while this lack in ability would have crippled other individuals, Socrates, through the direct assistance of the gods, is able to proceed onward. The point I am attempting to convey here is that, in the Philebus, we are given insight into Plato's understanding of his mentor. To explain, as I have argued, as Plato progressed into his late period, his conception of philosophy has evolved. As such, he has come to realize that Socrates can no longer qualify as the embodiment of what the philosopher ought be in an unqualified sense. In short, Plato came to realize that the Socratic method, while useful for tearing down fallacious arguments and exposing inconsistencies in the beliefs of others, is unable to achieve the sort of definitional knowledge he desired. And yet, despite this inability, Socrates does seem to know things, i.e., his opinions and instincts always seem to be inexplicably pointed towards the truth. To account for this then, what we find in these late dialogues are images of Socrates wherein the role played by divine inspiration is placed front and center. Here in the Philebus we see evidence of Socrates, unable to push forward in the discussion, directly assisted by the gods. Whereas others would have faltered, or given up, Socrates, through divine revelation is able to continue. 44 Phil. 20b3-4. Italics added for emphasis. A Gift from the Gods: Socratic Knowledge in Plato's Late Dialogues 93 And, it should be noted, that this revelation occurs must be seen as positive in the eyes of Plato. In other words, while it is true that Socrates must rely on divine assistance to proceed in the discussion, such assistance does not diminish the results of the discussion, especially when one considers the reverence shown by Plato to the wisdom of the gods. Yet, while Plato does, in the case of Socrates, hold such divine revelation in high esteem, it is my view that he recognizes the limitations and potential pitfalls of reliance upon those few fortunate individuals lucky enough to be so inspired. Indeed, we might glean insight into this view when we consider the ending of the Philebus, wherein we recall that, despite Socrates being able to rank the various types of goods, Protarchus reminds him that his task is incomplete. To explain, we recall that in the Sophist and Statesman, an emphasis was placed on maintaining the proper divisions all the way through to the conclusion. In other words, the method of division is so effective because each division can be traced back and explained to any who would inquire. In the Philebus, however, we recall that the initial idea that spawned the discussion, i.e., that neither pleasure or knowledge alone was the good, was given to Socrates by divine inspiration. As such, this wisdom is not possessed by Socrates, and is thus unexplainable. No account can be given, and so, the division cannot be considered complete. Thus, while Socrates, via his divine connection, is able to proceed further in the discussion than the uninspired many, and, while this can be positive given the possibilities such inspiration provide,45 Plato recognizes the need for a methodology that does not rely on the assistance of the divine, hence his development of the method of division.46 Conclusion Thus, despite the limitations that may be related to reliance upon divine inspiration in matters of philosophy, it is quite clear that, in the case of Socrates, Plato still recognizes its value. Indeed, when we look to the three major images of Socrates presented in the late dialogues, we find that, despite surface discrepancies, the common link between them is their reliance upon and reverence for the divine. As 45 See Phaedrus 243e-245b. In Socrates' Second Speech, Philosophy is described as a form of madness. See also Francisco Gonzales, "The Hermeneutics of Madness," in Plato and the Poets, ed. Pierre Destree and F.G. Hermann (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2011). 46 Additionally, we are left without the precise ratios between pleasure and knowledge. Daniel Larkin 94 such, we find cause to take seriously the role of the divine in the case of Socrates in Plato's late dialogues.47 47 The objection might be raised here that we ought to understand the dialogues in a more skeptical light, especially given the more aporetic nature of the majority of the so-called Socratic dialogues. In this view, my position, which depends on seeing Plato (and by extension, the character of Socrates) as holding firm convictions regarding theological beliefs, arises as problematic. In response to this critique, however, we might look to the Laws, wherein we find evidence to support the contrary position, i.e., that Plato, especially in these late dialogues, does in fact posit such convictions sincerely. To begin, we find a concerted effort on the part of the Stranger throughout the Laws to prove that the gods do exist, and that, their supreme wisdom and control over the universe should serve as the basis from which the laws of men be established. See Laws 903bb-905d, 907a, 967b. See also Büttner, "Inspiration and Inspired Poets". Büttner calls attention to Laws 811c, wherein, in defense of the legitimization of the constitution thus far constructed, the Stranger notes that their discussion has "not been conducted without a certain breath of the gods." As Büttner argues, considering the context here, it seems unlikely that we are to take this claim ironically. See also Cristopher Bobonich, Plato's Utopia Recast: His Later Ethics and Politics (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2002). Yet, this position is perhaps made most clearly in those instances wherein the Athenian Stranger is describing the various punishments to be levied upon those individuals who dishonor the gods, whether that offense arise as atheism, theft from a temple, or even the practicing of improper rituals, should be subjected to capital punishment. And, the strictest of these punishments is reserved for the atheist, as such an individual "...deserves to die for his sins not once or twice, but many times..." (Laws 908e2-3) Further, this condemnation for atheism should not be taken lightly, for, while there are other offenses Plato believes deserving of capital punishment aside from those pertaining to impiety, e.g., premeditated murder (871d), wounding a family member with the intention of murder (877b7-9), and waging a private war without the backing of the state (955c), that the punishment for atheism should be more severe than the punishment for violent charges is quite telling. Given the severity and consistency of this evidence, we have cause to take such references to the divine as sincere, especially in the late Platonic dialogues. I would like to thank Hal Thorsrud for his insightful comments which raised this issue to my attention.


Published in Adaptive Behaviour: doi.org/10.1177/1059712318770387 Please quote from the published version. Going Wide: Extended Mind and Wittgenstein Victor Loughlin Centre for Philosophical Psychology University of Antwerp Belgium victorloughlin@hotmail.co.uk Abstract Extended mind remains a provocative approach to cognition and mentality. However, both those for and against this approach have tacitly accepted that cognition or mentality can be understood in terms of those sub personal processes ongoing during some task. I label this a process view of cognition (PV). Using Wittgenstein's philosophical approach, I argue that proponents of extended mind should reject PV and instead endorse a 'wide view' of mentality. This wide view clarifies why the hypothesis of extended mind (HEM) is incoherent. However, this view also indicates why the hypothesis of extended cognition (HEC) could be true. 2 1. Introduction Extended mind, broadly understood, is the claim that during certain tasks, our dependence upon environmental objects can be such that those objects can literally become part of the processes and states that realize our cognizing. Think of someone whose reliance on their Smartphone is such that they hardly do anything without it. This Smartphone could be more than simply a tool. Given the right conditions, it could instead be viewed as a genuine part of that person's mind. Or so claim proponents of extended mind (Clark and Chalmers, 1998). It is now standard to read the extended mind claim (henceforth EM) as a metaphysical claim. Read as a metaphysical claim, for EM to be true, environmental objects or processes must play a constitutive (and not merely causal) role in realizing our capacities to think or remember. To borrow Clark and Chalmers' famous example of Otto and his notebook, their claim isn't simply that the markings in Otto's notebook cause Otto's dispositional belief. Rather their claim is that such markings are part of those material processes that constitute or realize Otto's belief (ibid). There are also grounds to think that EM should be read as a metaphysical claim. First, doing so distinguishes EM from its near conceptual rival, the Hypothesis of Embedded Cognition or HEMC (Rupert, 2004). HEMC is the claim that while environmental objects or processes may be essential to the exercise of some cognitive or mental capacity e.g., Otto's remembering may be facilitated by his accessing his notebook, it does not follow that such objects or processes are thereby part of the processes that constitute that capacity. That is, HEMC denies the metaphysical implications of EM. Hence, understanding EM as a metaphysical claim helps locate it in terms of an alternative view like HEMC. Second, attempts to view EM as only an explanatory endeavour confront the difficulty that it is unclear that EM has any explanatory edge over HEMC (see Rupert, 2004; also Sprevak, 2010). In which case, going explanatory about EM invites the danger of a stalemate between opponents and proponents of EM. By contrast, viewing EM as a 3 metaphysical claim has the merit of clarifying how the claim could be either confirmed or denied. For example, if the constituents of cognition or mentality do in fact extend to include environmental objects and processes, then EM could be true. Alternatively, if such constituents remain inside the skull, then EM could be false. For these reasons, I will read EM as a metaphysical claim. Interestingly, both those for and against EM can be understood as tacitly accepting what I will call a process view of cognition (PV). The central contention of PV is that constitutive questions about cognition or mentality, that is, questions about what cognition or mentality is, can be answered by identifying accompanying processes, where the term 'accompanying processes' refers to those sub-personal spatial and temporal processes ongoing during some task. PV has taken different forms in this debate. But the motivation for accepting PV in the context of extended mind seems straightforward. Consider that whenever you or I think or remember, it can seem natural to speculate that there must be some process occurring now that makes our activity one of thinking or remembering. We can then wonder as to the extent of that process. Does this process remain confined to the head? If so, then EM is false. Alternatively, does this process also extend to include environmental objects? If so, then EM is true. However, drawing upon Wittgensteinian considerations, I will argue that proponents of EM should in fact reject PV and embrace what I (and others) have labeled a wide view of mentality (Loughlin and Zahidi, 2017). For example, later Wittgenstein (2001) explored in detail the tendency we have to appeal to accompanying processes to understand mentality (all subsequent references will be to the later Wittgenstein). 1 Wittgenstein challenged this tendency by reminding us of the non-mediative link between our use of psychological concepts and our behaviours. This link ensures that our cognitive or mental capacities are 1 As pointed out by Noë (2004, p220), there is reason to think Wittgenstein might have been sympathetic to extended mind. Wittgenstein wrote: "I really do think with my pen, for my head often knows nothing of what my hand is writing" (1998, p24e). 4 manifested or displayed in what we say and do. That is, it is the norm governed practices and contexts within which we say someone is thinking or remembering that makes an agent's activity one of thinking or remembering. This clarifies why PV is false. PV is false because there is nothing ongoing, say, at the moment I am thinking or remembering, that makes my activity one of thinking or remembering. I shall propose that proponents of EM thus use these Wittgensteinian considerations to reject PV and adopt instead a wide view, according to which a given activity is cognitive or mental if and/or when it accords with wider behavioural conditions i.e., the conditions found in norm governed practices and contexts. This proposal impacts on the debate over extended mind in the following way. On the one hand, rejecting PV and going wide clarifies that cognition or mentality should not be understood as some bounded entity that can extend into the environment. In other words, the hypothesis of extended mind (HEM), that is, the standard reading of extended mind given in Clark and Chalmers (1998), can be discarded as incoherent. On the other hand, this clears the way to investigate those causal mechanisms that underpin our various cognitive or mental capacities. If such mechanisms can be shown to extend to include environmental objects or processes, then the hypothesis of extended cognition (HEC) could be true. Thus, rejecting PV and going wide could be attractive strategy for those keen to discard HEM and develop HEC. The layout of the paper then is as follows. In section 'A Process View of Cognition', I detail how both opponents and proponents of EM can be understood as offering views that are compatible with PV. In section 'Wittgenstein', I describe how Wittgensteinian considerations clarify why PV is false. In section 'Going wide', I propose that proponents of EM should reject PV and adopt instead a wide view. 2. A Process View of Cognition (PV) Clark and Chalmers (1998) originally launched extended mind in terms of cognitive processes and cognitive (or mental) states. Other participants in this debate have since accepted that constitutive questions about cognition or mentality, that is, questions about what cognition or mentality is, can be answered by identifying accompanying processes. Here the term 'accompanying processes' refers to those sub-personal 5 spatial and temporal processes ongoing during some task. I call this a Process View of Cognition (PV). If PV is correct, then there must be a process, either ongoing inside the agent's head or spread out between the agent and their environment, that makes a given task a cognitive one. One way (though not the only way) to flesh this out is to conceive of the process in question as possessing special properties such as those found in a 'mark of the cognitive'. The search for marks of the cognitive has proved a popular strategy in the debate over extended mind. On the one hand, opponents of EM, like Adams and Aizawa (2001, 2010a,b) have appealed to such a mark in order to demonstrate that EM is false. On the other hand, proponents of EM, like Rowlands (2010), have appealed to such a mark in order to demonstrate that EM is true. Now, while it would be a stretch to categorize these respective marks of the cognitive as simply statements of PV or reducible to PV, they nonetheless are compatible with PV. 2 I claim this demonstrates how both opponents and proponents of EM have tacitly accepted PV. For example, Adams and Aizawa (2001, 2010a,b) have claimed that (1) cognition involves representational states with nonderived content and (2) the cognitive is to be distinguished from the non-cognitive by virtue of underlying causal mechanisms (2010b, p9, p58). (1) and (2) lead them to propose the following mark of the cognitive: "cognition is constituted by certain sorts of causal processes that involve nonderived content" (2010a, p. 68). The notion that mentality involves non-derived content is not unique to Adams and Aizawa. Indeed, as they acknowledge (2010b, p31), they take this idea from the naturalized semantics literature (see Adams and Aizawa, 2010b, chapter 3 for a full discussion). Yet what exactly is such content? Non-derived content, say Adams and Aizawa (2010b), refers to the information garnered in an intentional agent's thoughts, experiences and perceptions (ibid, p32). Such content is to be contrasted with bodily 2 Other marks of the cognitive are perhaps possible. However, as far as I am aware, no such alternatives are readily available in the literature on extended mind. Indeed, I would venture that the marks provided by Adams and Aizawa and Rowlands remain the leading candidates. 6 external objects, like traffic lights, gas gauges, and flags, which possess only derived content, that is, informational content derived from other intentional agents (ibid). Adams and Aizawa argue that cognitive psychological research has revealed that the only causal mechanisms that possess non-derived content are those mechanisms found inside the head. As such, the mechanisms that constitute or realise our cognitive or mental capacities are, for purely contingent reasons, intracranial. Consequently, EM is false. Yet this dismissal of EM, I claim, is compatible with PV. For, as their mark of the cognitive attests, Adams and Aizawa insist that cognition is constituted by those processes ongoing during some task, which, they argue, are those subpersonal causal mechanisms that possess non-derived content. However, contrary to Adams and Aizawa, Rowlands (2010) has sought to demonstrate that EM is true. For Rowlands, "processes of manipulation and transformation of [bodily] external structures should be regarded as cognitive and not as merely extraneous causal accompaniments to the supposedly real, internal processes of cognition" (ibid, 124, my italics). Such processes are cognitive, claims Rowlands, whenever they fulfill the following four conditions. The first condition is that a process must involve the manipulation and transformation of information-bearing structures. The second condition is that the manipulation and transformation of such structures must have the proper function of making new information available to the agent or to processing operations within the agent. The third condition is that this new information must be made available to the agent via a representational state with non-derived content. The fourth condition is that the agent must own the process (ibid, p110-111). Note that one could read this as not compatible with PV. After all, if what matters are processes of manipulation and transformation that make new information available to the agent and the agent owns such processes, then such processes could be pitched at the personal and not sub-personal level. However, a closer inspection of Rowlands' mark reveals that there is such a compatibility. 7 For example, as part of the fourth condition of his mark, Rowlands uses his analysis of intentionality to detail how personal-level processes can be owned. 3 Rowlands argues that on the standard model of intentionality, there is an ambiguity in the notion of mode of presentation, such that the notion can be interpreted to mean either (1) an empirical mode of presentation or (2) a transcendental mode of presentation (ibid, p185). The empirical mode of presentation refers to the contents of experience (the shininess and redness of a tomato, for example). The transcendental mode of presentation, on the other hand, refers to those conditions that make possible, or in virtue of which, the object (such as the tomato) is presented to our awareness as being the way it is. In other words, the transcendental mode of presentation is that "in virtue of which the tomato, or relevant part of the world, is disclosed or revealed to me as shiny and red. The non-eliminable core of intentional experience, therefore, consists in a disclosure or revelation of the world" (ibid, p186, emphasis in original). According to Rowlands, "the relevant sort of disclosure will be that belonging to the vehicles of cognition rather than the content of cognitive states" (ibid, p195). Such "causal disclosure" (ibid), says Rowlands, is not restricted to brain states but rather can extend to include saccadic eye movements, probing and exploratory activities in the identification of sensorimotor contingencies, and the manipulation and exploitation of the optic array (ibid, p202). Indeed, when such processes are operating as "vehicles of disclosure" (ibid), then they are part of the conditions that disclose or reveal the world to the agent, that is, they are the processes with or in virtue of which the agent becomes aware of their surroundings (ibid). Such processes are sub-personal processes. This suggests that Rowlands' mark is in fact compatible with PV. For among the conditions that make a process cognitive, claims Rowlands, are those processes that disclose or reveal the world to the agent, which include (though are not limited to) ongoing sub personal processes, like visual saccades. 4 3 The following is based on Loughlin (2013). 4 In the text, I only focus on one source for Rowlands e.g., Rowlands, 2010. In other work, Rowlands (2006) has explored in detail how bodily movements can be representational (see Gallagher, 2017 for analysis). I have restricted my focus in the aforementioned way because my aim here is only to demonstrate that Rowlands' mark of the cognitive, like that of Adams and Aizawa, is compatible with PV. As I make clear in the text, I think this can be done by examining his 2010 work. 8 It is also worth pointing out that compatibility with PV is not confined to those in search of a mark of the cognitive. Functionalism, as is well known, has played a key role in the debate over extended mind. One of the leading advocates of an "extended functionalist" approach has been Clark (2010). Briefly, Clark views EM as a claim about the constitutive (and not cognitive) role played by an environmental object. Constitution, says Clark, is determined by the information-processing role of that object i.e. its functional role, which is in turn determined by the "precise nature of the coupling" (ibid, p90) that occurs whenever the agent interacts with such an object. This sketch reveals that extended functionalism is compatible with PV. A cognitive activity is constituted by accompanying processes, which are those sub-personal causal couplings that occur whenever an agent interacts with an environmental object. 5 If the foregoing is correct, then both opponents of EM, like Adams and Aizawa, and proponents of EM, like Rowlands and Clark, develop views that are compatible with PV. At the very least, this tacit acceptance of PV by both opponents and proponents of EM suggests that PV cannot help resolve the extended mind debate. This should, I think, motivate a questioning of the merit of PV. In the next section, I will develop this point by arguing that Wittgensteinian considerations can be used to clarify why PV is in fact false. 3. Wittgenstein 5 Jumping ahead, the sort of wide view I defend in section 4 of this paper can be viewed as offering the following response to the functionalist (extended or otherwise). Functionalism can be read as the claim that, "what makes something a mental state of a particular type does not depend on its internal constitution, but rather on the way it functions, or the role it plays, in the system in which it is a part" (Levin, 2008). A wide view insists that a given activity is cognitive or mental if and/or when it accords with wider behavioural conditions i.e., the conditions found in norm governed practices and contexts. But if so, then, pace the functionalist, it is not the sub personal role (function) a state plays within some system that makes that state mental. States (or activities) are mental dependent upon on whether or not they satisfy wider behavioural conditions. Functionalism is thus false. On the other hand, if functionalism were instead read as identifying the role (function) of states within some system pitched at the sub-personal level, then this would be compatible with a wide view. For, as I make clear with the Smartphone example (see section 4), going wide about mentality is compatible with there being subpersonal systems, as could occur when an agent is causally coupled to an environmental object. 9 In the introduction, I claimed that a possible motivation for accepting PV in the context of extended mind is our tendency to speculate that, whenever you or I think or remember, there must be some process occurring now that makes our activity one of thinking or remembering. I claim such a tendency is evidence that we are, in Wittgenstein's words, 'captivated by a picture' (2001, s115). By employing Wittgenstein's philosophical approach, that is, by assembling reminders about how we actually use psychological concepts, we can cease to be so captivated. This is because such reminders can help clarify for us why PV is false. 6 Suppose, for example, I watch someone building a wall. While they do so, I notice that they seem to carefully weigh certain bricks in their hands before setting them on the wall, sometimes discarding one, sometimes picking up another. Done in such a way, we would probably call the actions of the builder "thoughtful". For although the builder has not said anything, there nonetheless seems to be something considered or reflective about what they are doing. According to Wittgenstein, this may lead us to picture thinking as involving some "process, which may accompany something else or can go on by itself" (ibid, s330). For instance, in calling what the builder is doing "thoughtful", we seem to be identifying some process ongoing inside the builder. Yet how do we identify this process? Continuing our example, suppose I were to stop the builder and ask him to explain to me his actions. It would be odd if he could not furnish me with reasons for what he is doing. However, the reasons the builder gives cannot be the process we are searching 6 In this paper, I will not examine the many interpretative issues Wittgenstein's later work raises. However, I will say the following. Stern (2006) divides interpreters of later Wittgenstein into two broad camps. On the one hand, there are those who regard Wittgenstein as someone profoundly skeptical about the remit of philosophy ('pyrrhonian' interpreters). On the other hand, there are those who insist that, while Wittgenstein's approach has distinctively therapeutic elements, the outcome of this therapy can nonetheless be a positive one ('non-pyrrhonian' interpreters). One way to understand this could be to say that, by clarifying how our language-games operate in our form of life, we can gain new insight into the issues that trouble us. If so, then my use of Wittgenstein's philosophical approach is non-pyrrhonian, since I am using his approach to gain new insight, such as indicating why PV is false. 10 for. For, in contrast to processes, we don't usually take reasons to have properties like duration, that is, beginnings, middles and endings. As such, whatever else reasons are, they are not processes. 7 Yet if the builder cannot identify the process we are looking for, then how can we? For why would we be in a better position than the builder to identify what he is thinking? In other words, if we insist on picturing thinking as a process going on inside the builder, then it is not clear how either the builder or ourselves could identify this process. 8 Why does this problem arise? Wittgenstein offers the following diagnosis: "The first step is the one that altogether escapes notice. We talk of processes and states, and leave their nature undecided. But that's just what commits us to a particular way of looking at the matter. For we have a definite concept of what it means to learn to know a process better. (The decisive move in the conjuring trick has been made, and it was the very one that seemed to us quite innocent.)" (ibid, s308, my italics). In other words, our problem, insists Wittgenstein, arises from our uncritical acceptance of the aforementioned picture. We dissolve our problem by rejecting that picture. And we do this by instead asking ourselves: what are the particular circumstances that fix our use of the concept 'thinking' (ibid, s154, s155)? 7 One way to expand on this point would be to say that giving reasons is something one is able to do. And understood as a capacity, giving reasons is not a process, even in cases where giving reasons could have process-like characteristics e.g. when I describe to someone the steps I took to calculate some mathematical sum. Here we can draw a parallel with what Wittgenstein says about understanding: "In the sense in which there are processes (including mental processes) which are characteristic of understanding, understanding is not a mental process" (2001, s154). Arguably the same holds true for giving reasons. 8 Notice that the problem here is conceptual, not empirical. Suppose, for example, we opened up the builder's head and were able to identify some mechanism occurring inside his brain. Why should this mechanism (or any mechanism like it) be the process we are searching for? The builder cannot answer our question. He can give us reasons for his actions but he cannot identify the process we are looking for. And we can't answer this question. For why would we be in a better position than the builder to determine what he is thinking? As Wittgenstein says, we are in a 'muddle' (2001, s153). 11 For example, in the case of the builder, what does it mean to call his actions "thoughtful"? One possibility is that we are characterizing the builder's behaviour as being of a certain sort, that is, as being such that if, say, I were to stop him and ask him to explain to me what he is doing, he could give me reasons for his actions. It is thus the builder's capacity to give reasons that justifies my characterization of his actions as "thoughtful". This reminds us that it is internal to our use of a psychological concept, like 'thinking', that such use is confirmed by the satisfaction of certain conditions, like being able to give reasons (Glock, 1996). Notice that the term 'internal' should not be confused with some process inside the head. Rather it is a reminder that there is a non-mediative link between our use of a psychological concept, like 'thinking', and our behaviour, which ensures that our cognitive or mental capacities are manifested or displayed in what we say and do. Notice also that the term 'psychological concepts' should not be confused with interior mental items. As talk of a non-mediative link clarifies, concepts can be understood to be doings or behaviours e.g., we call the actions of the builder "thoughtful". Internal relations "depend on how we describe things" (ibid, p327). That is, it is the norm governed practices and contexts within which we describe someone as thinking or remembering that ensures an agent's activity is one of thinking or remembering. This may appear as if it is simply a matter of convention as to what activities we call "thinking" or "remembering". Yet while there is a difference between our use of psychological concepts and behaviour, there is "no gap to be bridged" (ibid), since if different behavioural conditions were appealed to, then this would no longer be thinking or remembering as we understand these capacities. In other words, it is not just a matter of convention. It is instead built into the very games we play with language that we call some activities and not others "thinking" or remembering". Indeed, to do otherwise would be to occupy a different form of life. This impacts on PV in the following way. If it is wider behavioural conditions i.e., the conditions found in norm governed practices and contexts, that determine if and/or when an activity is an example of a cognitive or mental capacity, then it follows that there is nothing ongoing, say, at the moment I am thinking or remembering, that 12 makes my activity one of thinking or remembering. Instead, it is "what leads to, surrounds, and follows from the..movements with which we usually associate the activity [that make that activity cognitive or mental]" (Klagge, 1995, p473). This clarifies why PV is false. PV is false because thinking or remembering are not constituted by any sub-personal processes ongoing at the moment you or I think or remember. This isn't to deny that what you or I do at any moment matters. This also isn't to deny that there are ongoing sub-personal processes. Rather it reminds us that, when it comes to thinking or remembering, what we do at any moment matters only to the extent that what we are doing now can be understood as satisfying wider behavioural conditions. And no sub-personal process (ongoing or otherwise) can satisfy such conditions. 9 Now, for those opposed to EM, like Adams and Aizawa, these sorts of Wittgensteininan considerations may look unpersuasive. Indeed, they may object that cognitive science is often understood as aiming to upset or challenge folk psychological notions. Hence, if Wittgensteinian considerations simply involve an appeal to such notions, then using his approach to challenge cognitive science begs the question against such a science. For it would seem to take as given that folk psychological notions must trump the explanatory concerns of scientists. However, while Wittgenstein's approach does indeed appeal to our everyday use of psychological concepts, the aim, as I have made clear, is not to settle accounts about what can and cannot be said about some concept. It is rather to liberate us from captivating pictures. Assuming that there is some sub-personal process occurring now that makes a given activity a cognitive or mental one is such a picture. We cease to be 9 Wittgenstein could be read as denying that there must be an a priori connection between mental explanations and explanations pitched at sub-personal levels. For example, Thornton (2015) takes Wittgenstein to be "caution[ing] against assuming that a pattern at one level [say, the mental or psychological level] must be relatable to a pattern at a lower level [say, the sub-personal level]" (p7). Given that PV is built on the tendency to think that there must be such a connection, as I have claimed, then this supports using Wittgenstein to clarify why PV is false. However, Thornton also points out that Wittgenstein does not exclude the possibility of establishing "local connections", that is, a posterioi connections, between these levels. In the current context, HEC could be understood as investigating such local connections (see section 4 of this paper). 13 captivated by that picture once we have clarified why PV is false. Thus, I would argue that we can employ Wittgenstein's philosophical approach, not in order to trump folk psychological notions, but rather in order to (hopefully) dispel conceptual confusion among cognitive scientists (like that generated by tacitly accepting PV) and so help do such a science better. For example, this use of Wittgenstein can help demarcate broader philosophical concerns about what cognition or mentality is from narrower empirical questions about the role of causal mechanisms (see section 4 for development of this point). 10 Importantly, this use of Wittgenstein's approach should be attractive to those keen on EM, like Rowlands or Clark. For this outcome vindicates their views vis-à-vis the claim that what constitutes our cognitive or mental capacities cannot be solely determined by whatever is ongoing inside our heads. In what follows, I will aim to convince those keen on EM to thus reject PV. 4. Going wide Drawing on Wittgenstein's philosophical approach, I think proponents of EM should reject PV and instead embrace what can be called a wide view of mentality (Loughlin and Zahidi, 2017). This wide view argues that what makes a given activity cognitive or mental is not where such an activity takes place (either inside and/or outside the head) but rather whether or not it satisfies wider behavioural conditions, like those found in norm governed practices and contexts. A wide view thus rejects the idea, exemplified in PV, that constitutive questions about cognition or mentality can answered by identifying sub-personal accompanying processes and instead emphasizes the role played by wider conditions in constituting our cognitive or mental capacities. The question then is: what consequences does this wide view have for the debate over extended mind? 10 The way I have used Wittgenstein's philosophical approach in the text is compatible with the position defended by Hutto and Satne (2018), who claim that philosophical clarification, inspired by Wittgenstein's relaxed view of naturalism, can have scientific benefits. 14 In order to answer this question, I will introduce a distinction that has recently gained traction within the literature. It is the distinction between, on the one hand, the hypothesis of extended mind (HEM), and on the other, the hypothesis of extended cognition (HEC) (Palmeros, 2014; Pöyhönen, 2014; Bernecker, 2014). This distinction is not hard and fast. Nonetheless, one way to parse it out is to say that HEC theorists take as given what cognition or mentality is and then seek to identify, for explanatory purposes, the boundaries of those sub-personal processes that underpin a cognitive or mental capacity. Put another way, HEC theorists aim to show that giving an explanation of the sub-personal mechanisms that underpin a cognitive or mental capacity requires appealing to bodily external objects or processes. By contrast, HEM theorists focus instead on ontological issues, such as those concerning the location of mentality. Understood in this way, HEM can be read as the standard way to formulate EM (see the introduction to this paper). Indeed, as both Palmeros (2014) and Pöyhönen (2014) point out, Clark and Chalmers' example of Otto and his notebook is a case study for HEM, since the example, if plausible, is intended to undermine the intuition that mentality must be solely located within the skull. Rejecting PV and embracing a wide view demonstrates why HEM no longer makes sense. If our cognitive or mental capacities are determined by our satisfying wider behavioural conditions, then while such capacities obviously have locations (in the trivial sense that everything occurs somewhere), it does not follow that such capacities also have boundaries and so can extend into the environment. HEM, in other words, is incoherent. 11 11 As I outlined in the introduction, embedded mind theorists, like Rupert, are usually understood as challenging the metaphysical implications of EM. Such theorists insist that there is only a causal (and not constitutive) dependence between an agent and an environmental object during a task or activity. Given that rejecting PV and embracing a wide view renders HEM (the hypothesis of extended mind) incoherent, then this could be taken to support an embedded position. However, notice that Rupert (2010) views cognition in terms of underlying physical mechanisms "each element of which contributes, as a member of overlapping subsets of mechanisms, to a wide range of cognitive outcomes" (p12). This seems to accept that constitutive questions about what mentality is can be answered by identifying accompanying processes, where such processes are those sub-personal processes ongoing during a task. In other words, this accepts PV. But if so, then rejecting PV would also entail rejecting embedded mind. 15 On the other hand, rejecting PV and embracing a wide view can potentially support HEC. For there still remain questions to be asked about those causal mechanisms that underpin a given cognitive or mental capacity. Causal mechanisms obviously have identifiable spatial and temporal boundaries. Hence, proponents of HEC can seek to determine if the mechanisms that underpin a given capacity can extend to include non-bodily processes and/or environmental objects. If they do, then HEC could be true. By way of illustration, recall the example given earlier of someone who makes extensive use of his or her Smartphone. Suppose this individual is now typing on their phone to a friend. They may be typing for a particular reason e.g., to tell their friend about an embarrassing moment that occurred at work today. They may be anxious for their friend to respond in a particular way (with sympathy, not with derision), so they are choosing their words carefully or perhaps peppering their text with emoticons. Most people would agree, I think, that this activity qualifies as a cognitive or mental one. Yet what is it about this activity that makes it cognitive or mental? According to a wide view, the individual's typing on their Smartphone qualifies as cognitive or mental because it satisfies wider behavioural conditions. For example, if I were to stop the individual while they were typing and ask them what they were typing or who they were sending their message to, then they could answer my questions in a straightforward fashion. As with the case of the builder (see section 3), it is the Smartphone user's satisfaction of those conditions found in norm governed practices and contexts that leads me to describe what they are doing as an example of thinking. Notice a number of things about this example. First, if this example is correct, then PV is false. There are no sub-personal processes ongoing while the individual is typing on their Smartphone that makes what the individual is doing a cognitive or mental activity. Second, this example does not support HEM. It is the individual's capacity to satisfy wider behavioural conditions that matters and this capacity is not some bounded entity that extends into the environment. Third, this example is 16 compatible with asking questions about the extent of sub-personal processes. That is, this example is compatible with HEC being true. For instance, various neural processes obviously need to be operational inside the individual's head for them to be able to type on their phone. Moreover, there could also be a close causal coupling occurring whenever the individual uses their phone. Clark describes the coupling of interest to (some though by no means all) proponents of EM as involving "continuous reciprocal causation" or CRC (Clark, 1997, p163; see also Clark and Chalmers, 1998). CRC occurs when "some system S is both continuously affecting and simultaneously being affected by, activity in some other system O" (Clark, 2008, p24). That is, when the back-and-forth between an individual and an environmental object involves CRC, then just as the agent causes changes in that object through their interaction with it, then similarly the object can cause changes in the agent through that interaction as well. Under these circumstances, the agent and object could form one extended system. This could be what is happening in the Smartphone example. The coupling between the individual and their Smartphone could such that this coupled agent-object system is part of the mechanisms that underpin the agent's capacity to think. If so, then giving an explanatory account of the sub-personal mechanisms that underpin the individual's capacity to think will require including this coupled agent-object system. Thus, the hypothesis of extended cognition, that is, HEC, could be true. And this would be compatible with embracing a wide view. For the agent's activity counts as an example of thinking because it satisfies wider behavioural conditions. Now consider a different example. Most people would agree that memory is about the recall of information. 12 If I remember what I did yesterday morning (I took my wife to a doctor's appointment, for example), I am recalling information about what I did yesterday. The standard move (a move evident in the debate over extended mind) is to link recall with retrieval. So when I recall what I did yesterday morning, this means that I retrieved information about what I did yesterday morning. Once recall and retrieval are linked, then it follows that the information I retrieved must have been 12 The following is based on Loughlin and Zahidi (2017). 17 stored somewhere (I can't retrieve something if it isn't stored). Further, once it is accepted that information must be stored somewhere, then there must be a repository for this stored information. For internalists, like Adams and Aizawa, this repository is the brain. For externalists, like Clark and Chalmers, this repository can be spread out between brain, body and world, as in their example of Otto and his notebook. Hence, as Loughlin and Zahidi (2017) point out, both internalists and externalists endorse the memory-as-information-retrieval view. However, it is possible to accept that memory involves the recall of information without also accepting that this involves information retrieval. Consider the following. Suppose you asked me to remember the time of our friend's party tomorrow so we know when to leave the house. However, when we subsequently arrive at the party the next day, we find the party is already over. You understandably get very angry. You ask me: "why didn't you remember the right time?" If the memory-as-information-retrieval view is correct, then I either noted (stored) the correct time of our friend's party or I did not. I obviously did not, hence why we arrive only to find the party already over. However, according to a wide view, for the recall of information to count as an act of remembering, the recalled information has to be appropriated situated and contextualised within the personal and impersonal circumstances of the person. For example, if you hadn't asked me to remember the time, then you couldn't justifiably get angry when we arrived late. As such, it is your asking me to remember the time and my failure to fulfil this order that leads us to call what I did "misremembering". If this is correct, then while remembering involves the recall of information i.e., information that is appropriately situated and contextualised, this need not entail that it also involves the retrieval of something previously stored. It instead means that we satisfy (or fail to satisfy, as in this example) wider behavioural conditions. Thus, adopting such a wide view clarifies that memory does not involve information retrieval. More could be said here (see Loughlin and Zahidi, 2017 for a fuller account). Nonetheless, notice two things. First, if this wide view is correct, then PV is false. 18 There are no ongoing sub-personal processes that make an activity one of remembering or misremembering. Second, questions can still be asked about those causal mechanisms that underpin any act of remembering or misremembering. For instance, empirical investigation may reveal that the causal mechanisms involved are entirely confined to the brain (the hippocampus of the medial temporal lobe could be such a mechanism, for example). However, investigation may instead reveal that such mechanisms can also sometimes extend to include what you or I do and/or how we use environmental objects. Indeed, there could be circumstances where the keeping of a diary or notebook could be such that, during those moments when the agent is using the diary or notebook, such use is part of the mechanisms that underpin their capacity to remember. That is, giving an explanatory account of the sub-personal mechanisms that underpin the agent's capacity to remember could require appealing to environmental objects. Under these circumstances, the hypothesis of extended cognition or HEC could be true. Nonetheless, the agent's activity counts as one of remembering because it satisfies wider behavioural conditions. Thus, rejecting PV and embracing a wide view places proponents of HEC in an interesting position. On the one hand, it enables them to demarcate broader philosophical concerns about what cognition or mentality is from narrower empirical questions about the role of causal mechanisms. On the other hand, this ensures that they can follow Ross and Ladymans' advice and insist that, "metaphysical considerations should play no role in deciding how to model cognition... Modelers will and should draw system boundaries in whichever ways maximize efficient capture of local phenomena" (Ross and Ladyman, 2010, p156). 13 As both the Smartphone and memory examples suggest, doing so raises the possibility that HEC could be true. 5. Conclusion 13 Pöyhönen (though for different reasons) seems to reach a similar conclusion: "I contend that choices between externalist and internalist classification strategies are necessarily more local, and based partly on the epistemic aims of the scientific field in question" (Pöyhönen 2014: 755). 19 Extended mind remains a provocative claim that arguably still offers a fresh approach to cognition and mentality. 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