The investigation of hedonism in Plato's Protagoras presents exegetical difficulties of two sorts: (1) with regard to the Protagoras on its own, numerous dialectical moves in 351b–8b seem to defy straightforward explanation. For instance, having declared that his principal concern is to examine Protagoras’ sincere beliefs (331c), Socrates presses on to investigate a version of hedonism attributable to ‘the many’ after Protagoras disavows it (352dff.). Why do they persist in the face of Protagoras’ indifference and despite Socrates’ avowed purpose? (2) An uncritical regard for hedonism in the Protagoras is at odds with other dialogues in which the status of pleasure is subjected to intense, critical scrutiny. Do these pages indicate that Socrates or Plato endorsed hedonism at some point? This volume responds to difficulties of both sorts.
According to S., these difficulties can be resolved by (a) appreciating the centrality of hedonism in popular morality and (b) situating the Protagoras within a systematic critique of popular morality that extends across several dialogues. The book divides evenly into two halves. Chapters 1–3 address problems internal to the Protagoras, focusing on 349d–58b but not in isolation from the rest of the dialogue and with an eye towards coordinating it with other dialogues (Gorgias and Republic, in particular, but also Apology, Crito and Philebus). Chapters 4–8 explore theoretical issues related to popular morality, Plato's criticisms of it, the sophist's complex relationship to it, and popular hostility towards both sophistry and philosophy.
Three doctrines lurk beneath Protagoras’ explicit claims and derive from popular morality: (i) prudence can be unjust; (ii) wisdom is weak and can be overcome by pleasure; and (iii) pleasure is the good (i.e. hedonism). Of these, (iii) is the core; as a principle of goodness, it orders and structures (i), (ii) and everything else in popular morality (pp. 102, 172–86). Protagoras does not explicitly declare (i)–(iii) when first asked. Rather, Socrates coaxes them out of the sophist in a series of qualifications and admissions over the course of their long interview. In this context, ‘the many’ function dialectically in 351b–8d as a proxy for Protagoras’ concealed views. When this investigation identifies the marketing value of hedonism for sophistry, Protagoras accepts it (as do Hippias and Prodicus, Protagoras 358a–b). Socrates never endorses hedonism here as some other commentators believe; he investigates it in order to expose Protagoras (pp. 1–2). Thus, S. saves Socrates from being saddled with hedonism and reconciles the Protagoras with anti-hedonism elsewhere in Plato's work.
The main lines of interpretation here are those set out by D. Zeyl in ‘Socrates and Hedonism: “Protagoras” 351b-358d’ (Phronesis 25/3 [1980], 250–69). What S. adds to Zeyl is an account of the dynamics of shame, concealment and exposure that explain the conduct of Socrates and Protagoras. What S. adds about concealment is inspired by L. Goldberg's Commentary on Plato's Protagoras (1983). And what S. adds about shame follows the lead of C. Kahn's ‘Drama and Dialectic in Plato's Gorgias’ (Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy 1 [1983], 69–102). None of this should suggest that S.'s work is derivative; on the contrary, he has insightful, critical responses to these predecessors and other scholars.Footnote 1
The shame that complicates Protagoras’ relation to hedonism is complex. Shame discourages the sophist from endorsing hedonism explicitly, yet his educational programme presupposes it (pp. 123, 181). Additionally, he cannot risk the procedural shame of either being refuted by Socrates or declining to answer questions (pp. 104–7). As it turns out, both the sophists and the many are trapped by a kind of ‘double-think’ which makes popular morality incoherent: popular conceptions of prudence countenance unjust conduct, yet no one is supposed to acknowledge this; wisdom is commonly praised for its authority, yet it is generally accepted that it can be ruled by fear; pleasure is disparaged as vulgar, yet routinely presumed in practical deliberation. As a dramatis persona, Protagoras thus embodies widespread moral and cognitive tensions. Like ‘the many’, who randomly say whatever occurs to them (τύχωσι τοῦτο λέγουσιν, 353a–b), he has internalised ‘an incoherent complex of popular evaluative attitudes’ (p. 1). It requires ingenuity on Socrates’ part to expose these fundamental commitments and to associate Protagoras with ‘the many’. S., in turn, explicates the stages that he thinks lead to this exposure.
For me, the highlights of this book are in the final three chapters. Chapters 6 and 7 explore the intrinsic plausibility of hedonism. According to S., pleasure provides defeasible, empirical evidence of goodness (pp. 146–7). Such evidence is vulnerable to hedonic error, however; due to distortions of perception and empirical judgement, error is inevitable. Only a conception of goodness that is independent of pleasure can overcome these systematic distortions (pp. 148–58).
The final chapter explores differences between sophistry and philosophy, focusing on the sources of popular hostility towards each. According to S., the hedonism implicit in sophistry originates from popular morality (pp. 148–54). He is therefore obliged to explain why the sophists were widely regarded with such hostility. His answer is that sophistic education upset traditional pleonectic alliances, since sophists sought to replace the traditional bonds between young men and their families, demes and so on. As it happens, philosophy has a comparable effect on these same traditional alliances, although with different consequences: whereas sophists encouraged pupils to dissociate themselves from families, demes, etc. in order to enter into their own pleonectic spheres (pp. 192–9), philosophy simply encouraged a critical regard for the common beliefs that bind pleonectic alliances of any sort (pp. 199–203). This explains the complex rivalries between (a) the sophists and Athenian society; (b) Socrates (representing philosophy) and Athenian society; and (c) Socrates and the sophists.
Both the analysis of Plato's argumentation and the attention to dramatic detail in this book are clear and stimulating. Still, there is room for debate in both areas. For instance, the scope of hedonism in the Protagoras is restricted to bodily pleasures. This seems too narrow, for S.'s own list of bodily pleasures/goods includes ‘civic preservation’ and ‘political power’ (p. 16, citing Protagoras 354b), neither of which strikes me as being corporeal. A desire to impose theoretical elegance across Plato's dialogues is clouding the picture here. S. reads the anti-hedonism arguments in other dialogues as defeating bodily hedonism. He thinks all these dialogues ‘cohere’ into a single, systematic project (p. 8). Even if we agree with S. about Plato, I do not see why Plato's target needs to be theoretically elegant, especially one described as ‘an incoherent complex’ (p. 1).
With regard to his account of the drama, I am not convinced that Protagoras is ‘concealing’ a prior theoretical commitment to hedonism. Concealment suggests that he is suppressing a consciously articulated secret doctrine. It is more plausible to interpret Protagoras as randomly saying whatever occurs to him – like the many he complains about (353a–b). The premiere sophist of the age seems not to be camouflaging something ugly (p. 120); rather, he is camouflaging something vacuous – an axiology theoretically lacking in substance.
Small points like these aside, S. sharpens and advances debate over the treatment of hedonism in Plato's dialogues admirably.