Introduction to the Meno
The Meno belongs to the middle period of Plato’s dialogs and it is here that we first encounter an extended treatment of Plato’s theory of reminiscence [recollection] (anamnesis). We define reminiscence as the recollection or remembering of the past. Plato, however, has a specific meaning of anamnesis – the first philosophical term used to describe a specific memory process – that to modern readers appears a bit, well, strange. Anamnesis is the act of recovering knowledge that the soul possesses but that the individual is currently ignorant of. To put it another way – to learn, we must remember that which we have forgotten. Or in Benjamin Jowett’s memorable translation – all learning is but recollection. To a modern reader, we think of learning as the acquisition of new knowledge. In Plato’s conception of reminiscence, true knowledge is possessed by the soul and it is through the act of reminiscence that we gain awareness of the knowledge the soul already possesses.
This idea is both foreign and modern. The common view of memory – the retention of things learned – holds that learning is acquiring new information, not simply remembering what has been forgotten. Our memories appear to be the result of lived experience, of interaction with the world around us. How could we, therefore, remember anything outside of our own personal experience? This seems too metaphysical for credulity. But in another respect, modern views of memory processes contain a kernel of this idea, namely that the brain manifests innate faculties that support its proper function. We may never have had direct experience with falling from a great height, yet our bodies react with anxiety when we overlook a precipice. From whence does this anxiety come if not through learning? We are born into the world with reflexes to grasp onto things, to orient our heads towards a stimulus, and to suck vigorously. Again, how do we acquire such complex behaviors if not through learning? And, further, when does this learning occur? At birth? In the womb? At some point prior to conception?
To better understand Plato’s concept of reminiscence, let us put this idea in its proper context and see what the Meno itself can tell us.
Beginning the search
The dialog opens with a seemingly straightforward question by its namesake: Can virtue be taught? (The word Plato uses here is ‘arete’, human excellence). Meno is a handsome youth from Thrace (part of modern-day Bulgaria and Turkey) come to Athens to study with the famed sophist Gorgias of Leontini. He asks Socrates if virtue is acquired through teaching, practice, or some other means. This is a valuable question to know the answer to; if virtue can be taught then those who wish to acquire virtue need only seek the right teacher. The second part of the question is also important, if virtue cannot be taught whence does it arise, from nature or some other way?
As in the Apology, the Socrates of the Meno starts from a position of ignorance: the only thing I know is that I do not know; and, as we will see, knowledge of ones’ ignorance is a critical step in learning anything. Upon being asked this question by Meno, Socrates replies that he could not possibly know if virtue could be taught or not because he doesn’t know what virtue is. Socrates’ reply baffles Meno. ‘Are you in jest, Socrates?,’ asks Meno. In the Platonic dialogs, Socrates professed ignorance over such things allows for an examination into the definition of the topic at hand (a technique of inquiry that Socrates learned from his teacher, Prodicus).
Further, Socrates claims to never have met anyone else who knew what virtue was. ‘Then you have never met Gorgias?,’ Meno states. Socrates had. ‘And did you not think Gorgias knew what virtue was?’ As a student of the famed sophist, Meno has heard Gorgias talk at length about virtue; and that upon meeting with him, anyone would agree that Gorgias knew. Socrates makes no such assertion. Later, Meno relates that Gorgias would only laugh if asked by students if he could teach them virtue.
Socrates states, “I do not have a good memory.” And asks Meno to remind him of what Gorgias thinks of virtue; better yet, he asks Meno to define what virtue is, for, Socrates says, I think the two of you think alike.
Attempts to define a term
Meno begins by stating that the virtue of a man is to administer the state, benefit his friends and harm his enemies [71e; see Plato’s Republic, Book 2 and Thucydides, Book 5]; the virtue of a woman is to order the household and obey her husband. Meno suggests that there are different virtues selective for one’s place in life – the old and the young have different virtues, male/female, foreigner/citizen, etc. This line of argument in seeing the relative nature of something like virtue (e.g., it is changeable depending on circumstance) fits in well with what we know of Meno’s teacher, Gorgias from some the surviving fragments of his works (whose treatises On Not Being and In Defense of Helen seem to argue against the common views of existence, right and wrong). Socrates protests – ‘I asked for a single definition of virtue and you provide a swarm of them’.
‘Will you have one definition of them all?’, ask Meno. Yes, that is what Socrates is looking for.
Socrates (and Plato) here is looking for a ‘true’ definition of what virtue is, the necessary and sufficient conditions that constitute virtue. What virtue is will be a single definition that accounts for any example of virtue that Meno (or anyone else) may offer.
Meno offers a few definitions of virtue but not to the satisfaction of Socrates: the ability to rule men [73c]; desiring fine things and having the ability to procure them for oneself [77b]. To these definitions, Socrates has Meno agree to add justice to each – virtue is to ‘rule men justly’, to procure fine things justly’. The alternative, to rule men unjustly or procure fine things unjustly seems counter to virtue. However, Socrates points out that since justice is a virtue then defining virtue in terms of its parts is insufficient. Socrates persists: What is it that you … say virtue is [79e]?
In exasperation, Meno states: ‘I am simply getting bewitched and enchanted, and am at my wit’s end. And if I can venture to make a jest upon you, you seem to me both in your appearance and in your power over others to be very like the flat torpedo fish, who torpifies those who come near and touch him, as you have now torpified me, I think [80a].’
Meno’s Paradox
Unable to produce a satisfactory definition of excellence, Meno turns to Socrates and asks:
‘How will you inquire after that which you do not know? What will direct your search if you don’t know what you’re looking for and how will you know when you find it [80d]?’
To these questions, Socrates offers a brief summary of what is termed Meno’s Paradox: “The claim is that it’s impossible for a man to search either for what he knows or for what he doesn’t know: he wouldn’t be searching for what he knows, since he knows it and that makes the search unnecessary, and he can’t search for what he doesn’t know either, since he doesn’t even know what it is he’s going to search for [80e].” This is a radical position put forth by the relativistic sophists, for if knowledge is unattainable than all inquiry stops.
This question directed at Socrates (whose whole existence is devoted to inquiring after knowledge) highlights a fundamental question for knowledge in general: How is it that we know anything? How is it that we know that we know and that which we do not know? One might think that if we don’t know something than we would never inquire after it. For example, what are ‘spandrels’? You may never have heard of that term before and therefore never had thought to ask such a question let alone inquired after an answer to that question. In terms of finding a definition for excellence, we are on firmer ground, for neither Socrates nor Meno are fully ignorant of that term. This base knowledge of the term might therefore initiate a search to understand what it is.
But what of the second part of Meno’s paradox: how will you know when you find the right answer? Meno has already provided multiple potential answers to Socrates queries. This process could go on and on. At what point does Socrates say, yes, Meno, that is the definition of excellence. Well done, my boy! From Socrates’ perspective, he does know what he’s looking for: a single definition that explains the necessary and sufficient aspects of the concept. Although some have argued that such a ‘real definition’ is not possible[i], Socrates answers Meno’s paradox with a paradox of his own: all learning is but recollection [81d].
Theory of Recollection
To answer Meno’s paradox, Socrates tells Meno a myth that he has heard and asks Meno to judge for himself as to the truth of his statement. Men and women wise in the sacred arts (e.g., priests and priestesses, and poets, like Pindar) say that the soul is immortal and that it cycles through life, death, and rebirth without perishing. As the soul’s reincarnations stretch into the infinite past (and will continue on into the infinite future) the soul has learned all that there is to know; the soul has seen things both on Earth and in the Underworld and therefore has learned all things. As recollection is of things previously learned, Socrates continues, it should not be any surprise that the soul can recall all knowledge, including knowledge of excellence. Further, once a man has remembered just one thing, he is capable of recovering it all for all nature is akin; therefore, what we call learning is nothing more than recollecting what the soul already knows (81b-d). [This is one example of what associationism, a fundamental memory concept. Here Socrates is stating that by recalling one piece of information, you can retriev it all because it is all associated. In the Phaedo, this concept is also addressed in the associations formed between lyer and the lover, etc.]
Socrates further cautions Meno as to the dangers of his paradox. Were we to adhere to the paradox, all learning would stop and it would make us lazy and fainthearted; the doctrine of recollection, in contrast, will make us industrious and inquisitive.
Demonstration of Recollection
This myth doesn’t seem to get us any closer to answer the paradox. How is it that all learning is recollection? Is there any proof of that? Socrates provides a demonstration. He calls over one of Meno’s servants, a boy unlearned in the art of geometry. Socrates begins by asking the boy about the length of lines that make up a square of a given length, perhaps one that Socrates is drawing in the dirt. The boy appears to know some basic arithmetic (he know the double of a size, for example) but Socrates leads him in determining the diagonal of a right triangle (what we would the think of as the Pythagorean theorem: a2 + b2 = c2 (with a and b the lengths of two of the side and c that of the diagonal or hypotenuse). Although the boy does not know the answer, Socrates’ questioning appears to Meno to be educating the boy.
Socrates takes this demonstration as evidence that the boy knows geometry even though he has never been formally instructed in the art. How does the boy know this? Based on Socrates earlier statements, the boy has always known geometry and had only to recollect it. Socrates takes it a step further: if the boy knows it now and if he has never received instruction in it, then how did he come to this knowledge? If his soul – the seat of knowledge – did not learn this information in this life, then it must have received it in a previous one. This, then provides Socrates’ evidence for the theory of recollection.
Through a series of questions, Socrates leads the slave boy to a better understanding of his own ignorance: “he didn’t think he was stuck before, but now he appreciates that he is stuck and he also doesn’t think he knows what in fact he doesn’t know [84a].” Socrates’ torpedo fish-like sting has improved the slave boy: he is better off knowing his ignorance. Meno agrees. And this sting has done him good with little harm.
In Meno’s paradox, all inquiry stops. Socrates method provides an answer to a part of the paradox. Through a directed series of questions, one becomes aware of their own ignorance. This awareness provides the impetus for inquiry (and answers to the 2nd part of the paradox – what will initiate the inquiry?).
One might think that if we don’t know something then we would never inquire after it. In finding a definition for virtue neither Socrates nor Meno are fully ignorant of that term. This base knowledge can therefore initiate enquiry. Even in the absence of a formal definition, Socrates proposes to argue upon hypothesis: let us hypothesize that virtue is such and such a thing and we’ll see if that is the case. Thus, we can initiate an inquiry with prior knowledge and hypotheses.
But what of the second part of Meno’s paradox: how will you know when you find the right answer? Meno has already provided multiple potential answers to Socrates queries. This process could go on and on. At what point does Socrates say, yes, Meno, that is the correct definition of virtue Well done, my boy! From Socrates’ perspective, he does know what he’s looking for: a single definition that explains the necessary and sufficient aspects of the concept. Although some have argued that such a ‘real definition’ is not possible (Ebrey, 2014).
Summary of Recollection in Meno
In the Meno, Plato explores his theory of recollection, that the eternal soul knows all things through its infinite cycles of birth-death-and-rebirth. We remain largely ignorant of this knowledge, yet through directed inquiry, facilitated by the dialectic, we can remember. What we commonly think of as learning is really the uncovering of previously acquired knowledge, which is another way of saying recollection. All learning, therefore, is recollection. The demonstration of learning as recollection is seen when previous ignorance gives way to knowledge following a particular process of questioning. The answers are not given, but emerge out of the process and thus come from within. This emergence of knowledge from within is taken as recollection of prior knowledge. And so it goes.
At the end of the demonstration, Socrates asks Meno: if the Slave Boy always knew geometry, then why did he initially profess ignorance of it? The slave boy himself was ignorant of this knowledge and it seems unlikely that he would every have tried to demonstrate this knowledge, acting only out his ignorance. Yet, Socrates was able to demonstrate that the boy shows this knowledge when carefully led to it through question and answer. As he says, true thoughts “only need to be awakened into knowledge by putting questions to him.”
If the soul knows all things then why are we ignorant? According to Plato, it is because we have not had the right education in recollection [i.e., a problem not in the acquisition, but in the retrieval of memory]. We all need a Socrates to make our knowledge manifest. Meno remains as ignorant after his dialog with Socrates. Socrates gets Meno to agree that the slave boy is better off knowing his ignorance (following the demonstration) than before, so perhaps this is just the starting point of a true education: knowing that you do not know.
This is a key component into Plato’s theory of recollection: we must be guided out of our ignorance into knowledge through correct inquiry, question, and answer.
Back to the beginning
The Meno opens with a series of questions: whether virtue can be taught and whence does it come, by nature or by instruction or some other means? This first third of the dialog is an attempt to answer the question What is virtue? As we have seen, this question is not answered and leads to Meno’s paradox. By the end of the dialog, the opening question remains unanswered. What are we to make of this?
According to Anthony Gotleib in The Dream of Reason, Socrates in Plato’s dialogues seeks to uncover the truth through question and answer. The answers may not be forthcoming (in fact, they rarely emerge and most of the dialogues end in an aporia, or inconclusively, as does the Meno); but the act of dialectic, of question and answer, is thought to be educative. According to the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy: “One of his deepest methodological convictions (affirmed in Meno, Theaetetus, and Sophist) is that in order to make intellectual progress we must recognize that knowledge cannot be acquired by passively receiving it from others: rather, we must work our way through problems and assess the merits of competing theories with an independent mind (see the entry on Plato).” In the Apology, the oracle’s pronouncement that Socrates is the wisest of men is interpreted by him to mean that he, Socrates, at least knows that he does not know, whereas most men claim knowledge that they do not possess. Through question and answer, even if answers do not come, we at least learn of our own ignorance. Can virtue be taught? And what is virtue? Both questions that drive the Meno are ultimately unanswered. Virtue is thought to be given out by the gods and is thus not teachable. It is also never determined what virtue is. Perhaps virtue is wisdom and if so then it can be taught. However, because virtue appears not be teachable, then it cannot be wisdom. But is Meno educated in the process of the dialectic? He still doesn’t know if virtue can be taught and you get the feeling he doesn’t care all that much. He does get baffled by Socrates questions, feeling stupefied as if stung by a torpedo fish. But we are also left with the impression that after this exchange Meno will continue in his own ignorance.
How do we answer Meno’s paradox? There are three general strategies put forth in the Meno to answer the paradox: start with a hypothesis; follow a guide; or via curiosity. At the end of the Meno, Socrates reaffirms his ignorance as to what virtue is. Yet he concedes that they could attempt to discover if virtue was teachable by formulating a hypothesis. In the dialogue, Socrates hypothesizes that virtue is knowledge and if it is knowledge than it should be teachable. Stating a hypothesis can initiate the search and, if the hypothesis works, than we know that the answer has been arrived at. Alternatively, awareness of our own ignorance, as Socrates is quick to remind us that he is, forms the foundation of curiosity. That curiosity initiates the search and the answer is arrived at only when the curiosity is satisfied. Or finally, we can be guided to knowledge by one who knows.
Well see next in the Phaedo that the Socrates of the Meno, who claims ignorance, is transformed into a wise man who will guide us to knowledge in the certainty of an eternal soul, the proof of which rests solely on the theory of recollection.
References
[i] Ebrey D. (2014). Meno’s paradox in context. British Journal for the History of Philosophy, 22(1): 4-24. http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/09608788.2013.869488
Nathen Murawski 