Protagoras

Socrates comes across an unnamed companion who asks him where he has been, and Socrates tells him that he just came from a long conversation with Protagoras, the acclaimed sophist from Abdera. Socrates’s companion, excited by this news, asks him to recount the discussion. Socrates happily obliges. The remainder of the dialogue consists of Socrates’s story, and the action never returns to his conversation with this unnamed companion.

Socrates begins his tale well before daybreak that morning when his young friend, Hippocrates, comes to his house. Hippocrates excitedly tells Socrates that Protagoras, the most esteemed of the sophists, is in Athens. Socrates already knew Protagoras was in town, but he didn’t visit him. Hippocrates, who says “everybody praises the man,” and they “claim he’s the wisest at speaking” (43), urges Socrates to go with him to Callias’s home, where Protagoras is lodging.

At this point, the narrative focus begins to shift to philosophy. Socrates questions Hippocrates about why he is so eager to learn from Protagoras. Hippocrates believes that Protagoras is a master of wisdom, but Socrates tries to convince him that he does not know anything about Protagoras or the supposed knowledge that he is selling. He urges Hippocrates to act with caution, asking him, “Do you know what sort of risk you’re getting yourself into by putting your soul at stake?” (45). Hippocrates does not seem to know. Socrates compares sophists to merchants selling food for the nourishment of the soul (46). If a person is not an expert in what truly nourishes a soul and what doesn’t, Socrates says, then it is best to remain extremely cautious: “[D]on’t roll the dice and take a risk with the most precious things” (46).

Hippocrates and Socrates decide to go see Protagoras to hear what he has to say. They agree to take counsel with their friends afterward. Socrates also mentions that Hippias and Prodicus, two other important sophists, are also residing at Callias’s house. When they reach Callias’s courtyard, the doorkeeper refuses to let them through. He is fed up with sophists, which he presumes Socrates and Hippocrates are, so he slams the door in their faces. Socrates knocks again and assures him that they’re not sophists, and the doorkeeper lets them through.

Socrates names everyone who was at Callias’s house that morning. Many young men of Athens—including Critias and Alcibiades, both of whom have minor roles later in the text— are included in the group. Socrates sees Protagoras, Prodicus, and Hippias. He also introduces his reason for coming to Protagoras, which is Hippocrates’s desire to gain a high reputation in Athens and his belief that Protagoras will help him acquire knowledge through rhetorical training. Protagoras thanks Socrates for his circumspection but states that there is no need to hide anything; they may freely discuss these matters in front of everyone else. Protagoras mentions that, before him, other sophists hid what they were doing or channeled it through poetry or another medium. On the other hand, he practices sophistry for everyone to see.

Everyone gathers on benches and couches to listen to Protagoras, who tells Hippocrates that if he decides to use his services, he will be greatly improved for it. When Socrates questions this, Protagoras explains that he does not lead young men into strange arts like arithmetic or astronomy. Rather, he teaches people how to be good citizens through “the political art” of civic virtue (51). Socrates says that if Protagoras is right, it’s impressive that he is so skilled in politics—but Socrates suspects that he is wrong. Socrates points out that in crafts such as leatherwork or carpentry, only a specialist is trusted, but in the governance of a city, all citizens— regardless of craft—are given a voice in deliberation. Additionally, Socrates says he does not “regard virtue as being something teachable” (52). Even if Protagoras is a specialist in civic virtue, Socrates is not convinced that he could teach this skill to others. The Teachability of Virtue becomes a central theme in the text.

Protagoras then tells a mythical story of the creation of human beings. Two Greek gods, Prometheus and Epimetheus, are responsible for the dispensation of powers such as claws and wings to various animals. However, Epimetheus fails to give any powers to the only rational animal: human beings. Prometheus, being wiser than Epimetheus, notices this and steals the fire of the gods for them, providing humans with wisdom in many aspects of life. Despite this, they do not gain political wisdom until Zeus sends Hermes to humans to give them all a sense of shame and of justice. This story, according to Protagoras, shows that all humans have some understanding of justice and should, therefore, be permitted to deliberate in the affairs of the city.

After this story, Protagoras provides an argument supporting the view that civic virtue is learned through painstaking effort and, because of this, it is reasonable to believe that some people have more of it than others. Thus, society should accept teachers like him who help people develop this virtue. Humanity’s virtue, according to Protagoras, is the one thing that everyone in the city needs. He challenges the view that a parent can’t teach a child virtue by providing examples of punishment and corrective behavior. Protagoras does not even think it curious that virtue is teachable, instead suggesting that it would be quite odd if it weren’t (58). He also argues that the institutions and laws of a civil society make even its worst perpetrators of injustice far superior in civic virtue to hypothetical uncivilized people living in the wild. This also shows that justice, a cardinal virtue, is teachable. Protagoras ends his speech, which includes both story and argument, by stating that he should be commended for being of exalted virtue and that this makes him worth the fee he charges for his services.

Socrates claims to have been “spellbound” by Protagoras’s speech (59). Socrates then facetiously claims that he is swayed by Protagoras’s words, but he will need one thing cleared up before he concedes. This is the issue of the Unity of Virtues. Socrates wants to know if piety, moderation, and justice are three different names for one thing—virtue—or if they are, instead, three separate parts of virtue. He asks if these virtues are like the parts of a face—each retaining its distinctiveness but contributing to the whole—or like parts of gold, in which the chunks are melted together and undifferentiated from one another. Protagoras says they are like the parts of a face. He believes it is not necessary to have all the virtues to have one of them.

Socrates disagrees and questions Protagoras further. He develops this disagreement through a series of questions in which he discusses the virtues of wisdom and moderation. He gets Protagoras to agree that the opposite of wisdom is acting “without good sense” (62) and that the opposite of moderation is acting “without good sense” (62). This means that they have the same opposite and are, therefore, the same thing. Protagoras “very unwillingly” agrees to this, too (63). Protagoras, according to Socrates, is becoming angry. When Socrates asks him another question, Protagoras launches into an impassioned speech on the teachability of virtue, for which he receives a round of applause.

Socrates claims that he is forgetful and cannot keep up with Protagoras in these long-winded speeches. He requests breaking up the dialogue into the shorter question-and-answer format with which he’s more comfortable. Protagoras is reluctant to do this, and Socrates acts as if he is going to leave if Protagoras refuses. Callias bids him to stay, and this initiates a deliberation among the attendees as to how Socrates and Protagoras will proceed. Alcibiades, Critias, Prodicus, and Hippias all speak in this interchange. They agree that Socrates and Protagoras should dispute their ideas peaceably, not in a quarrel, and that they should reach a compromise on how to do so. Protagoras then agrees to ask the questions to which Socrates will respond.