B. centres his book around Socrates’ engagement with Simonides in the Republic and the Protagoras. However, he approaches these episodes in the context of some larger themes: Socrates’ relationship to the Greek gnomic poets, Socrates’ relationship to the sophists and, of fundamental importance for B., a pattern of beliefs and behaviour that I call ‘the pleonectic ethic’ (the term is mine; observing a persistent connection between couches and the pursuit of luxury and pleasure in the Republic, B. refers to this ethic through Socrates’ infamous ‘form of the couch’; see p. 21).
I will begin in reverse order, with the third theme. The first chapter serves as both a brief exegetical overview of the Republic as well as an introduction to the pleonectic ethic. The latter is a polymorphous beast for B., but at its heart is the familiar Thrasymachean idea that immoral gain is worth it. In the pleonectic ethic this belief is made the centre of a way of life (see ibid.); it includes related beliefs (such as hedonism), desires, emotions, behaviours and even ‘rationalizations’. It is important to note that B. does not just see the pleonectic ethic as embodied in the immoral pursuit of luxury or pleasure. Following Glaucon and Adeimantus, he also sees it within a life of cautious, sober moderation where one upholds norms and rules in order to prevent oneself from being exploited by others as well as in a life that pursues moral goals on the grounds that this will lead to extra-moral benefits either in this life or the next. What connects these lives to the pleonectic ethic for B. is their hypothetical endorsement of wrongdoing. The values that guide them are such that, if it is possible to get away with wrongdoing (and if there are no compensating rewards for refraining from it), one should do wrong. Standing opposed to the pleonectic ethic is what I call the ‘Socratic ethic’ (also my term), which B. presents as a fusion of Socrates’ commitment to the value of morality and his elenctic activity (see pp. 20–2, 168–9).
One gets the impression that B. takes the opposition between these two ways of life – the pleonectic and the moral/Socratic – to be the heart of the matter for Plato. It is, at any rate, the lens through which B. views the other themes he discusses in the book. Given its importance to B.'s exegesis, his treatment of the schema is brief; not enough is done to elaborate it and justify its importance to Plato. This is not to say that there is no evidence in the Platonic corpus that is ready for the marshalling – there is (see e.g. Gorgias 526c–e, 527e). It is rather to point out that this is an under-developed aspect of his treatment. The book would have benefited from a concluding chapter in which the schema is fleshed out in more detail and is further supported. The Socratic ethic, in particular, calls for more attention. B. owes readers an account of why Socrates’ moral commitments and his elenctic activity naturally go together in such a way that the life that embraces them both is properly opposed to the pleonectic way of life.
The second theme, Socrates’ relationship to the Greek gnomic poets generally and to Simonides in particular, is the focus of Chapters 2–5. For the most part, B. discusses the poetic interlude in the confrontation between Socrates and Protagoras in the Protagoras, though there is some brief discussion of Polemarchus’ use of Simonides in the first book of the Republic.
The upshot of B.'s analysis is the following. The gnomic poets, Simonides included, embody the pleonectic ethic in so far as they engage in a zero-sum contest for honour and social recognition. Pindar's success is Simonides’ failure (and vice versa). Their strategy in this contest is to package vague conventionalisms in impressive sounding poetic language (one is reminded of Socrates’ use of τραγική at Meno 76e3). The conventional content of their poems secures them widespread agreement and approval from their hearers. Who could disagree with ‘nothing too much’? The vague character of this content allows the audience to fill in their own favoured interpretation (B. sees Socrates’ overly-inventive interpretation of Simonides’ ode as a parody of this point). The fancy poetic language, on the other hand, gives the impression that the speaker has something distinguished and impressive to say. It allows the poets to appear wise while ultimately spouting vague moral platitudes.
The interpretation is plausible and has several advantages. It explains well Socrates’ reaction to Polemarchus’ quotation of Simonides in the Republic. That justice is ‘giving to each what is owed to them’, in some sense, is of course true. But the real question is ‘What is owed to whom?’ and ‘In what sense of “owed”?’ The problem is that Polemarchus takes Simonides’ poetic platitude about justice to be an adequate account of what justice is. He is duped by Simonides’ language or reputation into thinking he said something wise. The interpretation also does an admirable job of drawing a moral from Socrates’ bizarre story about the Spartan origins of philosophy. B. acutely observes that – despite the story's obvious fabrications – it depicts gnomic poets as competing with each other for a reputation for wisdom (pp. 65–7). One wrinkle for B.'s interpretation is Socrates’ claim that he had recently dedicated some time to studying Simonides’ ode. Would Socrates have done so if he had such a low opinion of the genre? B. thinks Socrates’ claim is disingenuous (p. 50), but that strikes me as too convenient. After all, Socrates does know the ode well since he quotes it at length.
The first theme, Socrates’ relationship to Protagoras and to the sophists more generally, is the subject of the final four chapters of the book. These chapters focus on the parts of the Protagoras that surround the poetic interlude. They are partly concerned with analysing Protagoras’ world view as a very sophisticated (no pun intended) version of the pleonectic ethic. The primary vehicle for this is a thoughtful reading of Protagoras’ great speech. B. aptly observes that the progress towards civilised life in the speech is not progress towards genuine moral improvement. It is rather progress towards the wide-spread recognition that moral behaviour promotes social cohesion and cooperation. And since communities can tolerate a certain amount of immoral behaviour without coming apart at the seams, the selective use of wrongdoing is open to the wise person (p. 120).
On B.'s reading, Socrates’ goal in confronting Protagoras is to knock him down a peg. He is trying to degrade his ability to justify the pleonectic ethic to others by publicly embarrassing him. Socrates is, in other words, trying to fight fire with fire. He does not come off unscathed on B.'s reading. Socrates’ attempt to beat Protagoras at his own game is ultimately tragic. To bypass Protagoras’ defences, Socrates is compelled to take on Protagorean views and elaborate them at length. This leads, on B.'s reading, to the appearance at the end of the dialogue that Socrates endorses a form of hedonism. In reality, Socrates is pretending to endorse hedonism in order to make Protagoras feel comfortable enough to genuinely endorse it. Protagoras will not go out on a limb himself, but he is happy to shimmy out behind Socrates.
The moral that B. draws from the episode is that, if one wants to supplant the sophists in public esteem, one will be compelled to take on some of their pleonectic views. This is because Greek society was deeply entrenched in the pleonectic ethic. To be recognised with approval by such an audience requires that one (also) appear to endorse such views (see p. 161 with 154). Socrates and his ethic are a voice in the wilderness.
B. relies heavily on subtle dramatic and literary detail in weaving his exegesis. He gives the impression of being more excited by an interesting interpretative possibility than fastidiously concerned with nailing things down. This can sometimes result in intriguing but under-motivated interpretations (e.g. his claim that Glaucon and Adeimantus remain firmly entrenched in the pleonectic ethic despite their approval of Socrates’ defence of justice in the dialogue at pp. 21–2). B. is at his best when the interpretative scope is narrow and textually focused. In these contexts he is a maestro at unpacking the possible interpretative implications of literary and dramatic detail (e.g. his enlightening discussion of Socrates’ interpretation of the vexed ‘willingly’ line of Simonides’ ode at pp. 88–94).
The book is written in a lively style and is infused with humour and wit. B.'s delight in hunting down the subtle twists and turns of Platonic drama and wringing out their every interpretative drop is palpable.
