We find a sample of Socrates’ interaction with a politician in Plato’s Meno. Socrates and Meno are discussing the question of whether there are teachers of virtue as Anytus happens by. Socrates turns to him as an example of one who is the son of a successful businessman, who himself is financially well off, has the reputation of a good character, and is a political leader in Athens. He asks Anytus to join him and Meno in the search for teachers of virtue. If we wanted to train Meno to be a doctor, Socrates says, we would have him study with doctors; if we wanted to make him a shoemaker, we would have him study with shoemakers; if we wanted him to be a flute player, we would send him to study with a flute player. In fact, we are interested in those who teach the wisdom and virtue necessary to manage an estate or rule a city. Who are the professional teachers to whom we could send a student? Anytus asks who Socrates has in mind as teaching these subjects professionally. Those, Socrates replies, who are known as sophists.
“Good heavens, what a thing to say!” replies Anytus. “I hope no relative or friend of mine, Athenian or foreigner, would be so mad as to go and let himself be abused by these people. That’s what they are, the manifest abuse and corruption of anyone who comes into contact with them!”
But, Socrates protests, how could that be? Protagoras made his living as a sophist, and he made more money than ten famous sculptors during his career. He died after teaching for forty years, still enjoying a great reputation. How could he have hoodwinked people all over Greece for so long and not been caught at it?
Anytus replies that the parents and guardians of students who allow them to study with sophists are all mad. These itinerant teachers should be banned by the cities they visit from plying their trade there.
“Has one of the sophists done you a personal injury, or why are you so hard on them?” asks Socrates.
“Heavens, no! I’ve never in my life had anything to do with a single one of them, nor would I hear of any of my family doing so.”
Now Socrates asks him how he can pass judgment on a group of people he has had no experience with. Anytus maintains that he has no need to meet them. He already knows what kind of people they are. Well then, Socrates responds, I must be mistaken in trusting the sophists. But who is there who could teach a young man the skills of managing and ruling?
“But why mention a particular individual?” asks Anytus. “Any decent Athenian gentleman he happens to meet, if he follows his advice, will make him a better man than the sophists would.” Did these gentlemen learn their skills by themselves? Socrates asks. No, they got their knowledge from other gentlemen.
Do you deny, Anytus demands, that there are good statesmen in Athens? No, Socrates answers, but I just want to know whether those who are good statesmen can pass on their wisdom to others. For instance, Themistocles was the leader of Athens during the time of the Persian War. Presumably he would be a good teacher of virtue. He had his son Cleophantus taught in all the skills of war and horsemanship so that he could stand on a horse’s back and throw a javelin. Yet Cleophantus never distinguished himself in political leadership like his father. Surely we can’t suppose that Themistocles did not want his son to excel in political virtue. But evidently he couldn’t teach this skill. Similarly Aristides, nicknamed “the Just,” was an outstanding political leader in Athens. He gave his son Lysimachus a first-rate education, but Lysimachus never amounted to anything in the political realm. Likewise Pericles and Thucydides had sons whom they educated in every way possible, but none of them ever did anything worthy of note.
After this survey, Socrates concludes of each of these statesmen, “If virtue could have been taught, he would have found the man to make his sons good, either among our own citizens or abroad, supposing his political duties left him no time to do it himself. No, my dear Anytus, it looks as if it can’t be taught.”
“You seem to me, Socrates, to be too ready to run people down. My advice to you is, if you know what’s good for you, be careful. I dare say that in all cities it’s easier to do a man harm than good, and it certainly is so here, as I expect you know yourself.”[2] With these ominous words he departs.
No friend of the sophists, Socrates has defended them to see what kind of arguments Anytus has against them. In fact the Athenian leader has none, but only prejudice based on hearsay and stereotypes. Anytus takes the traditional view of political and practical education as coming from apprenticeship to a successful businessman and political leader. The skills necessary for leadership will rub off. Anytus himself is the son of a self-made man, and he is himself prominent in government. Yet a deeper question about his ability arises. How can he make judgments about education when he does not know those who profess to provide the best kind of education? And how can he be a virtuous man when he meets disagreements with threats of personal attack? Has he himself been able to imbibe virtue from his father? We will meet Anytus again, as an accuser of Socrates at his trial. Is this government leader a model of political virtue gone bad?
Socrates finds that this leading politician acts on the basis not of knowledge, but of ignorance and prejudice. The oracle is not refuted.
[2].Plato Meno 91c-95a.