1
SOCRATIC WISDOM IS AGAPÊ
Western civilization has two opposed ideas of love, ideas which have distinct names in
Greek. There is the love that desires to acquire some good from another: a paradigm of this sort
of love is sexual attraction or eros. Such desiderative love need not be sexual but may be
extended to any sort of attraction one feels for something: call this philia. Opposed to philia or
eros is the love that desires to give some good to another: a paradigm of this sort of love is the
charity commanded in Christianity, agapê. The history of the idea of love, then, is really a
history of at least two ideas, agapê and philia (or eros).
It is widely held that the concept of agapê is absent from Plato. For example, Nygren’s
definitive history of the ideas of love states: “Plato is fundamentally unaware of any other form
of love than acquisitive love” (Nygren 1953: 176). Many of Nygren’s claims have since been
rejected, but the claim that agapê is absent from Plato still prevails. For example, the most
recent history of the ideas of love states that the idea of a love which “descends to earth for no
aggressive or personal reason, but solely to create further goodness” is distinctively original to
the Christian concept of agapê (Singer 1984: 274). Nygren’s thesis is accepted by Greek
philosophers such as Gould (1963: 2), Vlastos (1969: 33), Bolotin (1979: 211), Kahn (1981:
20), and Santas (1988: 9), as well as by analytic love theorists such as Soble (1990: 322 n. 10)
and Martin (1996: 38-39).1 While it is true that the word agapê has no special significance in
Plato’s work, nonetheless I argue that the concept agapê is present. The traditional and prevalent
view is correct that the Greek word philia has nothing to do with agapê. It is, rather, in Plato’s
account of the activity of wisdom that we find the concept of agapê.
Space does not permit me to consider all of Plato’s writings. I focus only on the Lysis
and the first book of the Republic. I have several reasons for this choice. (1) The Lysis has been
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the standard evidence that Plato knows nothing of agapê; hence it will be especially compelling
to find agapê in that dialogue. (2) If we accept the widely held view that the Lysis and Republic
book I are early dialogues, we will have established that the concept agapê is not a late addition
to Plato’s thought but present even in the Socratic dialogues. (3) The passages I rely on in the
Lysis and Republic I are not part of puzzles Socrates develops, but are straightforward
expositions—as straightforward as anything we find in Plato: this makes it easier to use as
evidence for my thesis.
I begin by defining agapê (in part II) in contrast to philia (part I). Then I give a synopsis
of the Lysis (part III), examining in more detail the Socratic display with Lysis (IV) and the
Socratic wisdom equation there developed (V). I can then show this wisdom to be universally
beneficent (VI) and to have the structure of agapê (VII), a reading which I confirm by reference
to Republic I (part VIII).
I. Aristotelian philia
There are a range of accounts of mutual or personal friendship, often described as philia,
in the literature of religious ethics. These different accounts affect my thesis insofar as they tend
to assimilate philia and agapê. The assimilators include D’Arcy 1945, Burnaby 1947, and
Johann 1955 (all reviewed by Outka 1972: 34-44) and Outka himself (1972: 281-285). More
recent assimilators are Post 1990 and Pope 1991 (reviewed by Grant 2001: 174-5). To the extent
that philia and agapê are assimilated, my thesis that pagan Greek philosophy developed the
concept agape becomes less controversial. Hence I state philia and agapê in their most distinct
forms, using Aristotle’s detailed account of philia.
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Aristotle defines philia—friendship, broadly speaking—as mutual good will, mutually
recognized (Nic. Eth. 1156a4). He identifies three motives that a subject might have for wishing
good things to an object: the utility, the pleasantness, or the intrinsic goodness of the object of
one’s well-wishing or good will (Nic. Eth. viii.3).
Examples of utility friendships are market transactions by trading or buying and selling,
in cases such as merchant/customer, doctor/patient, or teacher/student.2 The seller wishes the
good or service to the customer—but with a particular end, in order to gain something useful
from the buyer, money. Likewise the buyer wishes the seller to have money, in order to gain
something useful from the seller, such as mercantile goods, medical treatment, or instruction.
An example of a pleasure relationship might be in a dinner club, where one goes to the
trouble of preparing elaborate dishes, the greater portions of which will be eaten by others, in
order to enjoy oneself the gustatory pleasures the others in turn provide. Sexual pleasures may
provide the basis for pleasure relationships. This is most obvious in a one night stand; in this
case, as Aristotle notices, pleasure as end explains “why the relationship starts and stops quickly,
often upon the same day,” (1156b3-4). Intellectual pleasures may as well be the basis (1156a13-
14), such as with email friends who exchange jokes.
Since only what is good can be loved (1165b14-15, 1155b18-21), the only people who
can be loved intrinsically—“for who they are” (di' hautous, 1156b10, 1157a18)—will be the
good. Thus the only case of “perfect” (teleia, 1156b7) or character friendship is between people
of good character (agathoi d' eisi kath' hautous, 1156b9).
If the friendship aims at pleasure or utility, then when these aims cease to be, the
friendship will cease also (1156a20-22). Imagine, in contrast, those friendships that endure
through bitter times, which endure when one through illness or poverty ceases to provide
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pleasure or utility to the other. Such a history of enduring friendship provides evidence of the
appropriate motive for the good will of a character friendship. Aristotle in this way can explain
why character friendships take time to develop: “it is not possible to know each other without
going through bitter times together” (1156b26-27). Indeed, character friendships themselves are
contingent upon the friends retaining, not pleasure or utility, but their good character. If a
friend’s good character is corrupted, we may try to restore it, but when we judge it impossible to
cure him, we must cease to be friends (Nic. Eth. ix.3 1165b15-24).
What, in sum, is it for one person to have friendship for (philein) another? For Aristotle
friendship must be reciprocal (Nic. Eth. viii.2). But we can analyze the motive for the friendship
on each side. “Just as in the case of inanimate objects we can like (philein) a thing for each of
these qualities [its utility, pleasure, or intrinsic goodness], so we can like (philein) a man for each
of the qualities.”3
Let me emphasize that philia is grounded in properties of the object in the following
sense. In philia a subject loves (philein) an object because the object possesses utility, pleasure,
or good character. When the object loses that motivating factor—whether it is utility, pleasure,
or good character—the well-wishing and hence the friendship must cease.
II. Agapê defined
Nygren (1953) traces the history of agapê from its origin in Christian scripture. In
contrast to object-grounded philia (which in Nygren’s terminology is called eros), he defines
agapê according to the following criteria.4
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(C1) No extrinsic ground. In agapê, the subject wishes well to and cares for the object
not because of the object’s properties (as in philia) but because of the subject’s own
character, which as it were overflows with good will for all. “We look in vain for an
explanation of God’s love in the character of the man who is the object of His love. . . .
[T]here are no extrinsic grounds for it. The only ground for it is to be found in God
Himself” (Nygren 1953: 75).
(C2) Indifferent to object’s goodness. When a subject loves (agapan) an object, this
love is not dependent upon the object retaining or having any sort of goodness.5
As Nygren says, C2 “does not add anything new to what has already been said” in C1. The
indifference follows from the “no extrinsic grounds” mentioned in C1 but does not, as we shall
see, entail C1.
(C3) Value creating. When a subject loves (agapan) an object, the subject creates value
in the object.6
Nygren also mentions a fourth quality of agapê—it initiates fellowship with God—but I ignore it
because it seems to be a feature of his Christian theology, rather than a criterion of agapê per se.
A god might initiate fellowship through love that is not agapê, as for example Zeus was wont to
do, and it is not obvious that the agapê of one who is not a god must initiate fellowship with
God.
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Jesus preaches agapê in the Sermon on the Mount: “You have learned how it was said:
You must love your neighbor and hate [or need not love] your enemy. But I say this to you:
love (agapan) your enemies [as well as your friends] and pray for those who persecute you”
(Matt. 5: 43-44). Jesus justifies his command by reference to God’s love as a model we should
follow: “In this way you will be sons of your Father in heaven, for he causes his sun to rise on
bad men as well as good, and his rain to fall on honest and dishonest men alike” (Matt. 5: 45).
The heavenly Father’s gifts of sunrise and rainfall illustrate Nygren’s defining criteria
C1, C2, and C3. Plainly, as Nygren says of C1, “We look in vain for an explanation of God’s
[good sunrises and rainfalls] in the character of the man who is the object of His love.” Nygren
infers that this shows there is no extrinsic ground for God’s benevolence. And C2 is well-
illustrated by this model: God’s gifts of sunrise and rainfall are plainly indifferent to the
goodness of the objects to which they are given. Finally, sunrise and rainfall as gifts of love are
not sent in recognition of value already in human beings, but create value in the form of sunshine
and rain, than which nothing is more valuable in an agrarian society. Evidently Jesus expects us
to care for all others, friends, enemies, and strangers alike, so that, for example, we feed, clothe,
and comfort all alike as they need it: hence Nygren’s criteria of “no extrinsic ground” (C1) and
“indifference to the goodness of the object” (C2).7 Where there is hunger, agapê gives food,
where there is nakedness, it gives clothes, where loneliness, comfort: hence Nygren’s criterion
of “value creating” (C3). Agapê by these defining criteria is in sharp contrast to philia, which
wills good things—food, clothes, comfort, etc.—only to those who are useful, pleasant, or
intrinsically noble. While the material examples of food, clothes, comfort etc. are illustrative of
the structure of agapê, they are not the only sorts of values to be recognized; the value of
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ultimate prudential interest for Jesus (as also, in his own way, Socrates) is the preservation or
salvation of the soul.
We may picture Nygren’s contrast in the following images. If eros is like a sponge,
finding, not causing, and drawn towards the valued property (utility, pleasure, or good character)
of the object, then agapê is like a hose spraying water indifferently upon all, causing, not finding,
the valued property. The contrast between eros and agapê, though not in those terms, is found in
Nygren’s Lutheran antecedent, Kierkegaard, who in turn follows Luther.8
Having stated and illustrated Nygren’s defining criteria, I turn now to their adequacy as a
definition of the agapê found in Christian scripture, in particular, by reference to Jesus’ parables
of the laborers in the vineyard, the sower, and the prodigal son.9 These parables, upon
examination, do turn out to support his criteria C2 and C3, but they require us to revise his
criterion C1.
Consider the parable of the prodigal son. The love of the father in the parable illustrates
agapê. One of his sons remains faithful on the estate, working for the father. The other, the
prodigal son, asks for his share of the property, “squanders it in reckless living,”10 eventually
despairs in his poverty, and returns home hoping only to get hired as a “paid servant” (Luke 15:
19). But the father, seeing him return, runs to meet him, hugs and kisses him, puts his best robe
on the son, a ring on his finger, shoes on his feet, and kills the fatted calf to celebrate with a feast
(Luke 15: 22-23). The elder brother is angry (Luke 15: 28). He would like his father to love in
accordance with the merit of the character found in his sons and is angry because the father loves
and with his gifts creates value in good and bad son alike.
According to Nygren, this parable conveys the idea of agapê as a love not based on the
character of the object, a love which has “no extrinsic grounds.” But this conclusion does not
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follow. Consider a revised parable, in which the property owner runs out to meet, hug, kiss,
bestow gifts upon, and throw a feast for not the son but a stranger walking by. This property
owner is indifferent to whether son or stranger be loved and given value, unlike the father of the
original parable, who restricts his love to his sons. Or consider another revision of the parable, in
which the prodigal son, living in poverty in the faraway land, never comes home. Yet his father,
in this version, seeks him out in the distant country anyway, hugging, kissing, bestowing gifts
upon him and throwing a feast for him. Such a father is indifferent whether the son come home
or not, unlike the father in the original parable, who restricts his love to sons who are or come
home. So Nygren’s claim that agapê has “no extrinsic grounds” is an overstatement: there are
minimal extrinsic grounds for agapê. A father’s agapê is not directed at everything, but at
everything within a father’s category of concern: the category of sons who are or come home.
Likewise in the other parables: the vineyard owner does not pay everyone (not those standing
idle in the market all day), but only the laborers; and the shepherd cares only for the sheep (not
for other animals). So Nygren’s criterion C1 needs revision:
(C1') Minimal extrinsic ground. In agapê, the subject wishes well to and cares for the objects
within the scope of its concern not because of the object’s properties (except for those which
place it within the scope of concern) but because of the subject’s own character, which as it were
overflows with good will for any object within the scope of its concern.
Notice that C1' is also illustrated by Jesus’ example in the Sermon on the Mount. The gifts of
sunrise and rainfall are sent to men, from the heavenly Father to, we may suppose, his earthly
sons.
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Nygren is right about criteria C2 and C3. Within the scope of its concern, agapê is
indifferent to the goodness or badness of its objects, as C2 states. In the parables above, the
father loved and cared for both his sons, indifferent to one’s being better; the vineyard owner in
his pay scale for his laborers was indifferent to the different hours they worked for him; the
shepherd in his concern for his flock was indifferent to the fact that some stray while some stay.
And within the scope of its concern, agapê creates value as opposed to being attracted to value in
its objects, as C3 states. This value is illustrated in different ways in the parables: the father
creates value by making both his sons heirs; the vineyard owner by paying wages; the shepherd
by making safe. As we have seen, Jesus’ example in the Sermon on the Mount also illustrates C2
and C3.
Nygren’s criterion C1 (as well as the revision C1') makes reference to the essential
attitude required in agapê: the “wishing well to and caring for” the object. As emphasized in the
parables and Sermon on the Mount, the essential attitude is not needy desire nor emotional
response but good will—actively wishing good things for, taking good care of, the object.11
Whatever its emotional requirements, agapê in any case is not held to be limited to only a few by
sentiment’s force, but on the contrary, something we can have for strangers and even enemies.
Having defined agapê, it remains for me to show that Socrates has an account of agapê
that explains its structure in terms of the structure of expertise or skill, an account that precisely
captures what agapê is.12 The Lysis, as also Republic I, give such an account.
III. Synopsis of the Lysis
The Lysis, as we expect in a Socratic dialogue, gives us a suggestive interplay of rich
dramatic context and acute Socratic cross-examination, in this dialogue against the background
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of Athenian pederastic culture.13 Socrates, walking to the Piraeus, meets Hippothales, Ctesippus,
and other young men (probably past their adolescence; evidently old enough to be pederasts; see
Bordt 1998: 112, 114), who invite him in to see their new wrestling school, in which there are
beautiful boys (perhaps at the beginning of adolescence; evidently young enough to be favorites
(kaloi), that is, objects of the pederastic love of the young men), including Hippothales’ love, the
beautiful Lysis, and his best friend Menexenus. Hippothales in his infatuation has been writing
foolish lyrics about his beloved. Socrates offers to give Hippothales a display (epideixai, 206c5)
of how a lover ought to converse with his beloved. So it is arranged, and in his display with
Lysis, Socrates develops a grand equation of wisdom with freedom, power, friendship,
ownership, utility, and goodness.
After Socrates articulates this equation, Menexenus and Ctessipus, who had been called
away during the display, rejoin the conversation, which turns to the question of what a friend
(philos) is and fills the remainder of the dialogue. A number of accounts of friendship are shown
to fail. (1) Friendship is not a matter of friendly feeling, not consisting in the loving, the being
loved, or both together (213c). (2) Friendship is not to be explained in terms of like attracted to
like (214c) nor (3) opposite attracted to opposite (216a).
With the conversation in perplexity, Socrates postulates that the beautiful is what is loved
in friendship (216c), and like a mantic (apomanteuomenos, 216d) divines that “what is neither
good nor bad loves what is beautiful i.e. good.” This account presupposes that “there are three
classes, the good, the bad, and the neither good nor bad” (216d). Socrates suggests two causes
for the friendship that the neither good nor bad has for the good: the presence of bad and the
desire for what belongs. He rules out badness as the cause of friendship on the grounds that
some desires and hence friendship will exist even if all badness were destroyed and (ii) desire is
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sufficient for one to like or be friends (221b-c). This leads him to postulate that desire is the
cause of friendship, while the lack of what is one’s own (the oikeion) is the cause of desire
(221d-e). But this final account is reconsidered: Socrates puts a number of alternatives to the
boys, and they are unable to prevent this account from falling into perplexity, too. The boys are
called away by their pedagogues; the dialogue ends.
IV. The Socratic Display Tells Us Socrates’ View
The display Socrates gives with Lysis (207d-210d) reaches a conclusion that is free of the
usual Socratic aporia or puzzlement. And rather than begin his display with his usual denial of
knowledge, Socrates suggests himself to be wise in matters of love (206a1). Thus his display
should have, at least prima facie, a reliable status as a gauge of the views of Plato’s dramatic
character Socrates. Yet the conclusion is so shocking to conventional notions of friendship that
many interpreters have ignored or reinterpreted the plain sense of the text for more conventional
conclusions.14
There are no good textual grounds for such ignorance or reinterpretation. Certainly Lysis
takes Socrates’ argument seriously: he gave it his closest attention, wants to recollect it as well
as he can so that he can share it with Menexenus later, and he will ask Socrates about any part of
it that he might forget (211a-b). And Socrates wants Lysis to take it seriously: he urges Lysis to
recollect it as well as he can, to tell the whole of it clearly to Menexenus, and to ask him about
any part of he might forget. (211a-b).
Lysis’s assent within the display is further evidence that he takes Socrates seriously and
thus that Socrates’ seriously intends the display and its conclusion. For Lysis assents to Socrates
only when Socrates’ conclusions fit his own experience. He does not readily assent to Socrates’
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conclusions when they strike him as contrary to his experience. For example, Lysis vigorously
disagrees when Socrates tries to infer that Lysis’s parents never stop him from doing what he
pleases: “You bet they stop me, Socrates! All the time about everything! (207e8-9).15
In his display, Socrates first elicits Lysis’s agreement to the following examples:
1. Lysis’s parents do not allow him to take the reins of one of his father's chariots in a race;
but they entrust (epitrepousin) this use of their chariot to a lowly hireling, and pay him a
salary besides (208a).
2. Lysis’s parents do not entrust (epitrepousin) him with the control of the mule-cart, but a
slave (208b).
3. Lysis’s mother does not let him do what he likes either with her wool or her loom for
weaving and prevents him from handling her batten, or her comb, or any other of her
wool-work implements (208d).
4. Lysis’s father and mother entrust (epitrepousin) to him reading, writing, and lyre playing
to be done for them (209a)
5. On the day when Lysis’s father considers him to have a better intelligence than himself,
(a) he will entrust (epitrepsei) him with all that is his—and (b) likewise Lysis’s neighbor
(209c-d).
6. The Athenians will entrust (epitrepsein) Lysis with what is theirs, when they consider
him sufficiently intelligent (209d).
7. The Great King of Persia, rather than his own firstborn son, heir of all Asia, would prefer
to entrust (epitrepseien) Lysis with, say, cooking or healing, if the king thought Lysis had
a superior intelligence about these things. He would trust Lysis even to the extent of
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letting him throw fistfuls of salt into his stew or sprinkle ashes into his own son’s open
eyes, while not allowing his heir to put the least thing into the soup or touch his own eyes
(209d-210a)
Examples 1 through 4 are undeniable, as is 6, when understood to be in reference to political
affairs.16 Examples 5 and 7 have seemed less convincing. In discussing these, I am grateful to
Bordt 1998 for articulating objections often left unsaid by other interpreters, though his rejection
of the examples is extreme among interpreters.
Bordt asserts that Socrates gives examples 5b through 7 in order to lead the conversation
into “obvious absurdity.”17 About example 5b, he says it is “highly improbable” that Lysis’s
neighbor would entrust him with the management of his estate.
His neighbor has other, more important criteria for his decision to whom to hand
over his household. First of all, he would think of his own eldest son. Even if he
knew that son to be less competent in household management than Lysis,
nevertheless his familial relationship with his son is a more important criterion
than competence alone (Bordt 1998: 138).
But I say that example 5b is as undeniable as examples 1 through 4. In contemporary terms,
consider the investment portfolios of wealthy families. It is undeniable that the head of such a
family entrusts such portfolios to paid employees—who are often not even personally known, as
the hirelings and slaves of examples 1 and 2 are, but are merely credentialed as investment
experts. If one of these plutocrats had a neighbor whose son was a reliable genius or seer at
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investing, he would certainly be glad to entrust his investments to that neighbor’s son, rather than
to his own, if his own son lacked competence or was significantly less competent at financial
management. A portfolio containing close to 100% of a contemporary household’s net worth is
analogous to the example of the estate of landed Athenian gentry imagined by Socrates. Notice
that the family head so entrusts his household assets not in defiance of his familial obligations (as
Bordt seems to suggest), but to fulfill them: it is precisely by use of the investment expert that
the head protects the inheritance of his family heirs.
About example 7, Bordt says it is “obviously absurd” (p. 138) that the Persian king, an
enemy of Athens, would permit Lysis to throw handfuls of salt into his soup or apply ashes to his
son’s eyes. But it was a commonplace in the ancient Mediterranean world to use enemies as
slaves, as it was common for slaves with recognized expertise to be used in those areas of
expertise. The most famous example is doubtless the case of Joseph in Egypt, who first
distinguished himself in the household of Potiphar and later in the court of Pharoah himself
(Genesis 37-41).
Socrates’ choice of salt and ash in example 7 is certainly not intended to describe
improper cooking or medical technique but rather to show us accepted cases of expert technique,
techniques which would never occur to a non-expert. Non-experts would only put good-tasting
things into a soup, because ignorant of principles of seasoning. It is easy to imagine them
sampling and adding fresh vegetables, broth, or noodles. But given a spoonful of salt to taste,
they would likely grimace and no more put it in the soup than dirt. Improbable as it might
seem—to a non-expert—it takes about a fistful of salt to season each gallon of soup or stew. A
fistful is about two tablespoons; an open handful, somewhat less accurately, is about three
tablespoons. (It is not clear whether draxamenoi in the text refers to open or closed handfuls.)
15
Fistfuls of salt into large cooking pots would be appropriate for an expert, though not predictable
by one ignorant of cooking. Likewise wood ash (I presume for its antiseptic properties), though
shocking to a non-expert, was a standard treatment for eye diseases,18 which were common then.
Of course, medical techniques have progressed and wood ash is unused today. A contemporary
parallel example might be that the king would never permit his son but would allow Lysis—if he
were an expert dentist—to treat the son’s toothache by using a high powered steel drill in his
mouth. Such drilling as a cure for toothache would seem shocking to anyone ignorant of state-
of-the-art dentistry in our era.
Since there are no good objections to any of Socrates’ examples, I conclude that these
examples not only are seriously intended, but should compel our assent.
V. The Socratic wisdom equation
On the basis of the seven examples, Socrates establishes a powerful equation about
wisdom. For clarity in stating this equation I use the letter ‘M’ to refer to any subject matter of
wisdom (such as chariot or mule cart racing, wool-working, reading, writing and lyre-playing,
household management, civic governance, cooking, or healing), and ‘m’s’ to refer to the
particular objects known by virtue of knowing M (such as particular chariots, mule carts, etc.).
These schematic letters correspond in the text to Greek pronouns, such as tauta ha, 210a9-b1).
Here then is the Socratic equation as elicited in the display:
(SE) If we are wise (210b1, 210d1) in subject matter M,
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(i) everyone will entrust their m’s to us [for us to do whatever seems best to us]
(210b1),
(ii) we shall do as we will with m’s; no one will voluntarily impede us (210b2-4),
(iii) we shall be free with m’s (210b4),
(iv) we shall rule over others in acting with m’s (210b5),
(v) the m’s shall be ours (210b5),
for (vi) we shall produce good with m’s (210b5-6),
(vii) all will be [utility] friends (philoi) to us about m’s (210d1),
(viii) all will be [dependents] belonging (oikeioi) to us about m’s (210d2),
for (ix) we shall be useful and good [to everyone about m’s] (210d2-3);
if we are not wise about m’s (210b6),
(~i) no one shall entrust m’s to us for us to do whatever seems best to us (210b6-7),
(~ii) [we shall not do as we will with m’s; all will [want to] impede us as far as they are
able (210b7-c1),
(~iii) [we shall not be free with m’s],
(~iv) we shall be subordinate to others in acting with m’s (210c3),
(~v) the m’s shall not be ours (210c3-4),
for (~vi) we shall produce no good from m’s (210c4),
(~vii) no one will be [utility] friends of ours about m’s (210d3),
(~viii) no one will be [dependents] belonging to us about m’s (210d4),
for (~ix) [we will not be useful and good to anyone about m’s].
17
I call SE an equation because it may be rewritten as a biconditional connecting our being
wise with our being entrusted, unimpeded, and free; also our ruling others, owning things,
making good, having friends (philoi), having others belong to us, and being useful and good. Let
‘W’ stand for “we are wise about M.” Then we may write SE:
W ↔ i ↔ ii ↔ iii ↔ iv ↔ v ↔ vi ↔ vii ↔ viii ↔ ix19
Narcy and Gonzalez see “the radicality of Socrates’ argument” (Gonzalez 1998: 3 n. 7),
which is “a reduction . . . of every value to sophia” (Narcy 1997: 216), which is shocking to
conventional notions of friendship etc. Nonetheless, his examples illustrating them make SE
plausible, however unconventional.
There are objections to SE. There is the Rhetoric Objection: SE depends not on my
being wise, but on my being recognized as wise. Thus rhetoric or oratory may seem a better
correlation with freedom, rulership, friendship, and ownership than wisdom. There is the
Impotent Knowledge Objection: SE depends upon wisdom being always capable of motivating
the agent. But wisdom without the proper disposition of the other, passionate elements within
the soul of the agent is impotent and unreliable. And there is the Good Will Objection. SE
depends upon wisdom being always good. But wisdom absent a good heart or a morally good
will seems not good but rather neutral in its power to produce good and bad. The Rhetoric, the
Impotent Knowledge, and the Good Will objections, I say, are the three strongest objections to
SE, and Socrates does not deal with or even mention them in the Lysis. These three objections
take more by way of reply than I can even begin to offer here.20 But Socrates does deal with
these three objections elsewhere. Socrates considers the Rhetoric Objection in the Gorgias the
18
Impotent Knowledge Objection in the Protagoras (352b-357b and the Good Will Objection in
the Meno (77b-78c). For my thesis in this paper I need not defend the Socratic Equation, but
only to show that Socrates holds it, despite its being at odds with conventional thinking.
VI. Wisdom is universally beneficent
All the components of SE reward study, but for my present thesis I need examine only W
↔ ix, the equation of wisdom in any area M with universal beneficence in the scope of M.21
According to SE, if I am wise, others will entrust their m’s to me, leave me free to do as I
will with those m’s, and be ruled by me about m’s; in short, they will defer all decisions to me in
matters M, which effectively makes the m’s my own. Why will anyone (that is, anyone lacking
my wisdom) behave so to me? The explanation has two parts. First, such others act from a
motive of satisfying their needs or desires: in Aristotle’s terms, they are utility friends (philoi),
and we should interpret component (vii), that all will be friends to us, in precisely this utility
sense. Second, because of our wisdom we shall produce good with the m’s entrusted to us
(component (vi)) and accordingly be useful and good (component (ix)).
Component (ix) explicitly says we shall be useful and good, but useful and good to
whom? Evidently to all, since Socrates states component (ix) precisely to establish that everyone
will love us. As the examples of wisdom—in running a father’s or neighbor’s household
(example 5), or leading Athens (example 6), or cooking or healing for the Great King (example
7)—show, what makes everyone love us is nothing but the utility and goodness we provide to
them. The fact that wisdom by its nature is useful and good for all is not contradicted anywhere
in the Lysis, or in the entire Platonic corpus. It is this fact about wisdom which establishes my
thesis that there is agapê in the Lysis.
19
VII. Wisdom’s actions have the structure of agapê
To establish that wisdom—the good—loves (agapan) all, I need to show that the good
fits the defining criteria C1’, C2 and C3.
Notice first that “everyone” as it occurs in component (i) and throughout SE is not
universal in scope, but restricted to everyone who is ignorant. This restriction is of course a
feature of Christian agapê, too, a point Jesus makes using an analogy with wisdom (of all
things!)—“It is not the healthy who need the doctor, but the sick . . . I did not come to call the
virtuous, but sinners” (Mk. 2:16-17, Lk. 5:32).
Consider now C1’.
(C1') Minimal extrinsic ground. In agapê, the subject wishes well to and cares for the
objects within the scope of its concern not because of the object’s properties (except for
those which place it within the scope of concern) but because of the subject’s own
character, which as it were overflows with good will for any object within the scope of its
concern.
We have shown that the Socratic equation states that when you are wise in subject matter M, you
are useful and good to all about m’s (component (ix)); moreover, you act freely with those m’s
(component (iii)); you do exactly as you will with those m’s (component (ii)). Now the m’s, and
anyone with respect to m’s, are precisely the objects within your scope of concern, since you are
by hypothesis wise in M. Since you are useful and good to these objects (component (ix)), you
are caring for them. Since you wish to give this care (component (ii)), you are wishing well to
these objects. Since you are acting freely, hence not constrained by need for any of the
20
properties of the other (component (iii)), you act because of your own character, which as it were
overflows with good will for any such objects. These consequences of the Socratic equation
establish that wisdom precisely fits criterion C1’.
Consider criterion C2.
(C2) Indifferent to object’s goodness. When a subject loves (agapan) an object, this
love is not dependent upon the object retaining or having any sort of goodness.
I have already shown that wisdom wishes well and cares for its objects. Hence I only need to
show that good as well as bad and indifferent objects fall in the scope of its concern. But it is
impossible to be an expert only about good m’s and not also about bad and indifferent m’s.
(Socrates is well aware of this fact: see Ion 532e-533c.) Hence wisdom’s love fits criterion C2.
Consider, finally, criterion C3.
(C3) Value creating. When a subject loves (agapan) an object, the subject creates value
in the object.
Wisdom in M obviously creates value for all with respect to m’s. Hence wisdom’s care for its
objects fits criterion C3.
Since wisdom, according to Socrates’ equation, fits the defining criteria for agapê, we are
justified in concluding that agapê is nothing but wisdom, according to Socrates. This
conclusion, that Socratic wisdom is structurally identical with the idea of agapê found in
21
Christian scripture, refutes the prevailing view that the idea of agapê developed only within
Christianity and not in pagan Greek philosophy.
VIII. Confirmation in Republic I
Socrates explicitly defends the thesis that the good is for all in Republic I with an account
based on the structure of wisdom. The Socratic argument there confirms my thesis that Socratic
wisdom has the structure of agapê.
Polemarchus had given the following account.
(P1) The function of a righteous person is to do good to friends and to do harm or bad to
enemies (Rep. 335a7-b1, 335b4-5).
This account of the righteous person’s actions is certainly not agapê, because it is not indifferent
to value: according to P1, the righteous person’s good will depends upon its objects, friends,
retaining their good character. Hence it fails to meet criteria C1’ and C2 of agapê.
Socrates refutes P1 by securing Polemarchus’s agreement, in effect, to the following:
(S1) When a member of a species is harmed it is made worse with respect to its specific virtue.
For example, a horse is harmed when it is made worse in respect of horse excellence (335b6-9):
if horse excellence is winning races, then what makes it worse at winning races—lameness,
say—harms it, while what does not make it worse at winning races—wearing a bridle, say—does
not harm it. Likewise for dogs (335b10-1). A specific consequence of S1 is:
22
(S2) When people are harmed they become worse with respect to their specific virtue (335c1-
3).
But as Polemarchus readily admits and even Thrasymachus later must concede:22
(S3) The specific virtue of people is righteousness.
It follows from S2 and S3 that:
(S4) Men who are harmed become more unjust (335c6-8).
But it is indisputable that
(S5) Experts by the use of their expertise do not make people less expert.
For example, musicians by the art of music do not make people less musical and horse experts by
their art do not make people less expert in horses.23 And, as Polemarchus readily admits and
even Thrasymachus must concede, the righteous man is like an expert:
(S6) The righteous by the use of their righteousness do not make people less righteous
(335c14-d2).
23
Moreover, just as it is neither the function of heat to cool things but of its opposite (i.e. cold), nor
the function of dryness to make things wet but of its opposite (i.e. wetness, 335d3-6), so also:
(S7) It is not the function of goodness to harm but its opposite (335d7-8).
And, as Polemarchus again readily admits and even Thrasymachus must concede,
(S8) A righteous person is good.24
It follows from S6, S7, and S8 that
(S9) The function of a righteous person is not to harm but to benefit, specifically, to benefit
people by making them more righteous. It is not the function of a righteous person to harm
anyone but to will and do good for people, good or bad.
Not only does Socrates’ argument for S9 refute Polemarchus’s view of the righteous
man’s goodness, it confirms my thesis that Socratic wisdom is agapê. For the function of the
good man fits the defining criteria of agapê: his good will and care create value indifferently for
the good, bad, and indifferent objects within its category of concern (namely, human beings).
Notice in particular Socrates’ argument for S7: it is the function of goodness (i.e.
wisdom) to do good to all, on the analogy that it is the function of heat to heat things and the
function of dryness to make things dry. This is strong confirmation of the statement in criterion
C1’ that the cause of the love is “the subject’s own character, which as it were overflows with
24
good will” and “not because of the object’s properties.”25 Evidently Socrates would agree that
wisdom functions the same as agapê: according to my image in section II, as a hose sprays
water, as wetness makes things wet.
Republic I 341c-342e likewise confirms my thesis that Socratic wisdom is agapê. There
Thrasymachus states the following account:
(T1) The ruler, insofar as he is a ruler, never makes errors and unerringly decrees what is best
for himself (340d7-341a2).
On this account the ruler’s care is acquisitive, need-fulfilling, and hence is not agapê. Socrates
refutes T1 by securing Thrasymachus’s agreement to two premises.
(S10) Expertise rules over that in which it is expertise (this was already established in the
Socratic equation of the Lysis, component (iv)).
(S11) Expertise (i.e. wisdom) does not seek its own advantage but that which is the object of its
expertise (342c4-6).
For example, medical expertise does not seek its own advantage but that of the body, likewise
expertise with horses the advantage of horses (342c1-4). According to Paul, agapê does not seek
its own (1 Cor. 13: 5); according to Socrates and pace Thrasymachus, wisdom is the same.
Indeed, medical expertise, strictly speaking, does not even have an advantage in the sense
of having a need to meet (342a1-b8). Its nature, like the nature of any expertise or wisdom, is to
25
give care to the objects in its scope (epi tôi to sumpheron hekastôi zêtein te kai ekporizein,
341d7-8)
IX. Conclusion
Socrates recognizes two modes of life: the sage who possesses wisdom, not needs, but
who is by his wise nature caused to improve others; and the ignorant, who possesses needs and
desires: eros, not wisdom. It is well known that Socrates denies that human beings are sages:
only the gods have such wisdom (Ap. 23a5-b4, see also La. 196a6-7). But Socrates has views
about the structure of that wisdom, and the Socratic wisdom described in the Lysis and Republic
I fits the defining criteria for and hence deserves the name agapê. That Plato’s Socrates
identifies agapê with wisdom may come as a surprise, but this is just the sort of theoretical
insight we should expect from the philosopher “who attempts to show that everything is
knowledge” (episteme, Prt. 361b1-2).
26
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Johann, Robert. 1955. The Meaning of Love. Westminster, Md.: Newman.
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28
Vlastos, Gregory. 1969. “The Individual as Object of Love in Plato,” in Vlastos 1973: 3-34.
—————. 1973. Platonic Studies. Princeton U. P.
29
NOTES
1 Gauthier and Jolif (1970: 671) try to identify agapê with philia in the Lysis, but they fail,
as Vlastos (1969: 9 n. 22) shows.
Haden (1983: 355) finds something like agapê in the Lysis (“the one who has achieved
the Good . . . in virtue of his very fulfillment and self-sufficiency freely uses the power flowing
from his completeness to help the other”). In lieu of argument in support of his reading, he refers
to Rist (1964: 31-40). Rist and the handful of agapic interpreters he follows (Taylor 1928: 78,
Festugière 1936: 336, Markus 1955: 222, Armstrong 1961: 108) try to identify agapê (in their
terms “overflowing love” or “love that gives”) with one aspect of Platonic eros, focusing upon
the Symposium, Phaedrus, Timaeus, and Laws, and do not consider the passages from the Lysis
and Republic I that I examine in this paper.
2 At Nic. Eth. viii.13 Aristotle divides utility friendships into two types, moral and legal,
where the legal utility friendship includes even “cash-and-carry market transactions.”
3 Aristotle, Eud. Eth. 1236a10-12, trans. Robinson 1986: 78.
Notice that Aristotle identifies good will as the essence of the friendship, rather than, say,
desires or emotional response. I take it that he is right about this: desires and emotional
responses, howsoever strong, on their own produce only non-consensual relationships, including
such as between criminal and victim.
Nor does Aristotle underestimate the non-rational elements of human friendship, the
subjective qualities of inclination, taste, passion, “chemistry”—see the excellent discussion in
Bossi (1999: 45-47).
4 Singer 1984 and Soble 1990 draw similar distinctions between these two kinds of love in
30
their introductory chapters. In Section 1 I mentioned authors who assimilate philia and agapê.
Again, to the extent we assimilate these concepts, my general thesis is easier to defend and less
interesting. Hence my decision to work with Nygren’s radical account of agapê.
William Prior has objected that the agapê/eros contrast leaves “no room for philia,”
because philia is based upon both the character of the object and of the subject. But, in reply, I
distinguish between motives and non-cognitive causes of love. The motive for my character
philein for my wife has to do only with the goodness of her character. It is true that I appreciate
her goodness because of a corresponding goodness in my own character (let us suppose), but my
character is a non-cognitive cause, not part of my motive, for loving her thus. It is just the same
with eros. The motive for my amorous love for my wife has to do only with her sex appeal. I
appreciate her sex appeal because my own male character is heterosexual, but as with philia my
character is a non-cognitive cause for my amorous love, not part of its motive. In this way philia
fits into Nygren’s general category of eros as well as eros in its specific sexual sense.
5 Nygren (1953: 75) exaggerates in describing criterion C2: “Any thought of valuation is
out of place.” I take it that the subject loving (agapan) an object may be concerned to promote
goodness or value in the object. Nygren includes in his criterion “non-acquisitiveness.” But not
every form of philia is acquisitive. Utility and pleasure philia (including eros) do seek to acquire
utility and pleasure (such as erotic satisfaction), but in “perfect” or character philia the subject
certainly does not seek to acquire good character from the object. Insofar as the subject seeks to
acquire some good, the love will be to that extent either utility or pleasure motivated and not
character love. Nevertheless, in character philia the subject is not indifferent to the goodness of
the character of the object, for the corruption of the object’s character will destroy the character
friendship, as shown in section 1.
31
6 Again, Nygren (1953: 78), at least in translation, exaggerates: “Agapê does not recognise
value, but creates it.” I take it that the loving (agapan) subject creates value intentionally, as
opposed to accidentally, and hence must be able to recognize it.
7 See Jesus’ parables of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37) and of the Last Judgment
(Matt. 25:31-46).
8 For Kierkegaard, see e.g. ch. 1 of Works of Love. For Luther, see e.g. Disputatio
Heidelbergae habita xxviii: “God’s love does not find, but creates, its lovable object; man’s
love is caused by its lovable object.”
9 The three parables are found at, respectively, Matt. 20: 1-16, Mark 4: 3-8, and Luke 15:
11-32. “The agapê motif forms the principal theme of a whole series of Parables” (Nygren
1953: 81). He discusses these three parables on pp. 89-91.
10 Luke 15: 13. All gospel translations from New English Bible.
11 As shown in a note above, Aristotle rightly sees that there is more to friendship (philia)
than mutual affection (philein). Aristotle follows Plato, who makes the point that philein, even
mutual philein, is insufficient for philia, Lys. 211d6-213e4. See Bordt 1998: 148–157 for
commentary.
12 I accept the well-recognized thesis that the Lysis also gives an account of what Nygren
calls eros: the love that is not indifferent to the goodness of its object, but seeks to fulfill or
perfect itself by acquiring that object. This is the love dramatically portrayed in Hippothales’
erotic attraction to Lysis (204b-d), the love that is later explained on the model of the love of a
sick man for his doctor (217a) and of a thirsty man for the object of his desire (221a-b).
Obviously, that the Lysis gives an account of eros does not preclude that it may also give an
account of agapê.
32
13 Bordt (1998: 108-119) gives excellent information about the dramatic context.
14 Gonzalez (1998: 3 n. 7) ably discusses Fraisse (1974: 129), Roth (1995: 8), and Bolotin
(1979: 89-90). More recent is Bordt (1998: 132-140), whose arguments I consider below. I
suspect such misinterpretations are motivated by charity: it is uncharitable to attribute an
inhuman philosophy—utility the only motive for love—to the great moral teacher, Socrates. But
charity must be constrained by fidelity to the text. My thesis will alleviate some of this
charitable anxiety: while philia is mere utility love in the Lysis, there is also agapê to be found
there.
15 Thus we ought to deny global assertions, such as Bordt’s (1998: 133), of frivolity or
irony in this passage.
16 See e.g. Ober 1996 for details of Athenian democratic practice.
17 “After Lysis has accepted that his parents will entrust him only with those things in
which he is competent [i.e. after examples 1-5a], Socrates leads the criterion of utility and
expertise into perfectly obvious absurdity,” Bordt 1998: 137.
18 The following ancient authorities—including sophists, doctors, and horse doctors—
recommend the wood ash treatment for eye disease: Claudius Aelianus, Fragmenta 41 lines 20-
22; Aëtius, Iatricorum vii.7 lines 20-25, vii.90 lines 5-9, vii.107 lines 1-4; Cyranides, 3.36 lines
36-38; Galen, De compositione medicamentorum secundum locos x.12 p. 799 lines 6-9;
Hippiatrica, Hippiatrica Berolinensia 11.48 lines 1-6, Hippiatrica Cantabrigiensia 64.1. This
medical practice is mentioned by Aristotle, Mirabilium auscultationes 834b31.
19 Strictly speaking, the terminology of biconditionals is inaccurate for the equations
relating the statements about wisdom (W) to friendship (vii), ownership (viii), and utility (ix).
33
For Socrates claims that without wisdom no one will desire you as friend, you will own and be
useful to no one. A biconditional merely would have Socrates claim that without wisdom not
everyone will desire you and you will not own and be useful to everyone. So my reference to the
Socratic Equation as a biconditional is only roughly accurate as a way to think about SE.
Notice that “everyone” as it occurs in component (i) and throughout SE is not universal
in scope, but restricted to everyone who is ignorant or less wise than us. This restriction is of
course a feature of Christian agapê, too, a point Jesus makes using an analogy with wisdom, of
all things!—“It is not the healthy who need the doctor, but the sick . . . I did not come to call the
virtuous, but sinners” (Mk. 2:16-17, Lk. 5:32).
20 For Socrates’ strategy in reply to the Rhetoric Objection, see Rudebusch 1999: 27-30. To
the Impotent Knowledge Objection, see Rudebusch 1999: 21-23.
21 Socrates explicitly states only W ix, leaving unsaid ~W ~ix. But I attribute
~W ~ix to Socrates on the following grounds. The conditional ~W ~ix is suggested by
parallel with W ix, which is explicitly stated (210d1-2). And just as Socrates’ examples 4-7
obviously illustrate the conditional W ix, so equally his examples 1-3 illustrate the conditional
~W ~ix. Moreover, the conditional ~W ~ix is as undeniably true as W x. In addition,
Socrates often stated the biconditional W ix, as Nicias reports and Socrates confirms at
Laches 194d. Finally, we see Socrates rely upon the biconditional W ix at Rep. 1, 350b3-6,
in an argument which provides a cornerstone of Socratic ethics (on this argument and its
importance, see Rudebusch 1999: 97-113).
22 Polemarchus admits it at 335c4-5; Thrasymachus at 350d4-5. For a defense of S3, see
Rudebusch 1999: 98-108.
34
23 A puzzle I leave for the reader: Socrates appears to risk contradicting S5 at Hp.Mi. 366c-
369a and Rep. I 333e-334a.
24 Rep. 335d9-10. For a defense of S8 see Rudebusch 1999: 108.
25 Socrates’ view of the natural function of wisdom as analogous to wetness appears also in
the Lysis, in the context of an extended discussion of utility love (216c-221d), such as the love a
sick person feels for doctors and their medical expertise because of sickness and for the sake of
health. In this context, Socrates makes reference to the agapic motive of medical expertise for
the sick: “the medical art has accepted the friendship for the sake of health (trans. Bolotin).”
Bolotin (1979: 163) correctly glosses this passage as follows: “The medical art, which is itself a
good, is naturally directed to securing the good of something else.” (Bolotin notices in a
footnote a connection with Republic 341d7-c2. See also Bolotin (1979: 165 n. 27).