Chaerephon came bearing the most exciting news in the world, a total vindication of Socrates and his philosophical method. Socrates was not delighted, overjoyed, triumphant: he was dumbstruck. What was Chaerephon thinking? More important, what was the god doing in making such an outrageous statement? Socrates was deeply troubled by the revelation. Apollo said no one was wiser. Surely that wasn’t true! But the god said it, through his Pythian oracle. The proclamation was a public one from a divine source. Socrates could not ignore it, could not wish it away, could not undo the answer, however much he might wish. Socrates did eagerly pursue knowledge, and he was good at thinking about important things — justice, temperance, wisdom — but he was far from thinking himself learned, much less wise. Yet the god said no one was wiser. Instead of answering questions about Socrates’ pursuits, the oracle raised deeper and more urgent ones.
In his trial, Socrates reports his reaction to the oracle: “When I heard about it, I thought to myself, ‘What in the world does the god mean, and what is he getting at? I am fully aware that I have no wisdom, neither great nor small. What then could he mean in proclaiming me the wisest? Surely he is not lying—that wouldn’t be right.’ After puzzling about it for some time, I set myself at last with considerable reluctance to check the truth of it in the following way. I went to interview a man with a high reputation for wisdom, because I felt that here if anywhere I should succeed in disproving the oracle and pointing out to my divine authority, ‘You said that I was the wisest of men, but here is a man who is wiser than I.’” Socrates continues:
“Well, I gave a thorough examination to this person — I needn’t mention his name, but it was one of our politicians I was interviewing when I had this experience — and in conversation with him I formed the impression that, although in many people’s opinion, and especially his own, he appeared to be wise, in fact he was not. Then when I began to show him that he only thought he was wise but wasn’t really so, my efforts were resented not only by him but by many other people present. Nevertheless, I reflected as a I walked away, ‘Well, I am wiser than this man after all. It’s only too likely that neither of us has any special knowledge, but he thinks he knows something he doesn’t know, whereas I, insofar as I don’t know, don’t think I do know. At any rate, it seems that I am wiser than he is to this very small extent, that I don’t pretend to know what I don’t know.’
“After this I went on to interview a man with an even greater reputation for wisdom, and I formed the same opinion of him, and here too I incurred the resentment of the man himself and many others.
“From that time on I interviewed one person after another. I realized with distress and alarm that I was making myself unpopular, but I felt compelled to put my religious duty first. Since I was trying to find out the meaning of the oracle, I was bound to interview everyone who had a reputation for knowledge. And by the dog, gentlemen, for I must be frank with you, my honest impression was this: It seemed to me, as I pursued my investigations at the god’s behest, that the people who enjoyed the greatest reputations where almost entirely incompetent, while others who were supposed to be their inferiors were much better endowed with common sense.”[1]
[1].Plato Apology 21b-22a.