(anon.

Commentary on the Theaetetus

P.Berol. inv. 9782

draft translation

by

George Boys-Stones
Durham University

© 2015
(slightly emended 1.vi.2015)

The translation is based on the text as edited by G. Bastianini, and D. N. Sedley ‘Commentarium in
Platonis “Theaetetum”’, Corpus dei papiri filosofici greci e latini 3 (1995), 227 562. See also D. N.
Sedley, ‘A New Reading in the Anonymous "Theaetetus" Commentary (PBerol. 9782 Fragment D)’,
Papiri Filosofici. Miscellanea di Studi 1 (Florence, 1997), 139-44.

Lemmata are taken from Jowett’s translation of the Theaetetus (for no better reason than to connect the
commentary with a familiar version of Plato’s text).
(I) [ . . . ] (II) At the same time, Theodorus was a friend of Protagoras, and Theaetetus came across
Protagoras’ treatise On Truth, in which he speaks of knowledge. These things, then, needed
preliminary purgation. Some Platonists thought that the dialogue is about the criterion, since it is rich
in investigation of this. This is not right, but it is about simple and incomposite knowledge: for this
purpose it has to look into the question of the criterion. By ‘criterion’ I mean that through which we
judge, as a tool. For we need something by which to judge things: then, as long as this is accurate,
the steadfast acceptance of well-made judgements gives us knowledge. But these people say that,
having proposed to search for knowledge, he shows in the Theaetetus what its objects are not, and in
the Sophist what its objects are. They came close, but they did not reach the truth: for he does not
seek the material with which knowledge is concerned, but what its essence is. This is a different
thing, as in the case of skills it is one thing to look for the essence of each of them, another to look
for the material with which each concerns itself. (III) Knowledge is right reason bound ‘by an
explanation of the reasoning’ (for we know things when we know what they are, but also why they
are): but there were those who valued the senses highly because they possess something striking,
attributing accuracy to them as well. Because of this, he is first going to put their conception to the
test; then he will pass on to right opinion, and after this to right opinion with reason. Then he will
cease the investigation – for he would only need to add the bond of explanation for his account of
this kind of knowledge to be complete. This sort of thing will be clarified in the exegesis.
There is another, rather affected, prooemium, of about the same number of lines, which
begins: ‘Well, boy, do you have the discourse about Theaetetus?’ The genuine is the one that begins:
‘Just now, Terpsion . . .’ It looks like he wrote the dialogue in the form of a play, with Socrates in
conversation with Theodorus and Theaetetus; but then, since it has many intricacies, he added the
prooemium, as of Euclides remembering to Terpsion what he had heard from Socrates.
Euclides was one of the notable Socratics, and founded the so-called (IV) Megarian sect,
which later became somewhat sophistic. So he dedicated this weighty dialogue to a weighty man. For
it was not for the reason he gives – that the dialogue would be impeded by inserting ‘and I said’,
‘and I spoke’, and, for the interlocutor, ‘he agreed’ and ‘he didn’t agree’. For he has used this style
in many dialogues, and it is not annoying in them.
The prooemium contains an outline of what is fitting and what one ought to do – things that
the Stoics call ‘fitting actions’. But such things are set out very clearly in the works of the Socratics,
and do not need exegesis.

◘ He said that he would most certainly be a great man, if he lived (142d1-3). Even if Theaetetus has
a good nature, why should it be inevitable that he would become ‘great’ when he reached maturity?
He might have been prevented from doing so by illness, or lack of time, or some other cause. Well,
these things are said as being likely, not inevitable, since nothing follows with any certainty from
good natural traits, although some things usually follow. But when someone has almost all the good
natural traits, as Theaetetus does – and not only these, but also their exercise – a person like this does
become (V) ‘great’ unless prevented by some external cause.

◘ If I cared enough about people in Cyrene, Theodorus, I would ask you whether there are any
rising geometricians or philosophers in that part of the world. But I am more interested in our own
youth than theirs (143d1-5). He cares for the Cyrenaeans, but to the same degree as any other
humans. For we experience appropriation towards those similar to us: he feels more appropriation
towards his own citizens. For appropriation is more and less intense. If those who base justice on
appropriation say that one has an equal sense of appropriation towards oneself and the farthest
Mysian, their thesis preserves justice – but it is not agreed that appropriation is equal, because that is
somehting that is contrary to what is obvious and to co-perception. For appropriation towards oneself
is natural and non-rational while that towards one’s neighbours is also natural, but not non-rational.
If we discover wickedness in people, we do not only censure them, but have a sense of alienation
towards them; but they themselves, when they are doing wrong, do not accept (VI) the corollary, and
are unable to hate themselves. In fact, the appropriation one feels towards oneself is not equal to that
felt towards anyone else, when we do not even have an equal sense of appropriation towards all our
own limbs. We do not feel the same way about an eye and a finger, let alone about finger-nails and
hair, since we are not equally ‘alienated’ from the loss of them, but to some more and other less.
On the other hand, if they themselves [sc. ‘those who introduce justice from appropriation]
say that appropriation can be intensified, then it will allow for the existence of philanthropy, but the
situation of the shipwrecked people (where only one of them can be saved) will refute them [sc. in
the stronger claim that they can base justice on appropriation]. Whether or not this situation would
ever arise, they nevertheless find themselves being refuted.
This is why the Academics argue as follows: Justice is not preserved any more or less by the
Stoics than it is by the Epicureans; but justice is not preserved by the Epicureans, as the targets of
this argument agree; so neither is it preserved by the Stoics. For if one should ask them how it fails to
be preserved by the Epicureans, they will say that they do not allow appropriation towards one’s
(VII) neighbours. But if you yourselves make it unequal, do you not see that this will force you all
the more to strive unequally for your own advantage and that of your neighbours? In the case of
virtue as in the case of an expertise, if one thing surpasses another by a single unit it is enough for
the other to be obliterated. This is why Plato did not base justice on appropriation, but on ‘coming to
be like god’, as we shall show.
This much-discussed ‘appropriation’ is introduced not only by Socrates, but also by the
sophists in Plato. Of appropriation itself, one kind is ‘caring’, namely that which is displayed
towards oneself, and towards one’s neighbours as if they were to a certain extent equal; another is
‘selectional’, namely that by which we choose goods for ourselves, not because we care for them, but
because we want to have them. It is clear that appropriation towards oneself and those like oneself is
not selectional: no-one chooses himself (what he chooses is that he should exist, and that what is
good should belong to him). A person cares for himself, and his neighbours. (VIII) This is why he
said ‘If I cared more for those in Cyrene’, making it clear that such appropriation is ‘caring’.

◘ And I would rather know who among our young men are likely to become famous (143d5-6). ‘And
concerning the young men of Cyrene, especially, I desire to know which show some signs of
becoming moderate.’

◘ I observe them as far as I can myself, and I enquire of any one whom they follow (143d6-8). In
matters of love, it is said that the sage knows who is worthy of love. The question arises how
Theaetetus could have escaped his notice, since he has a good nature. The answer is that he did not
escape his notice: he does not find all those who are beautiful by himself, but there are some whom
he finds through others. And he made this clear, because he himself does all he can to look for them,

4
and also asks others whom he sees associating with the young. For being around either of them
points the way to those who have good natures.

◘ (IX) but he is no beauty, and you must not be offended if I say that he is very like you; for he has a
snub nose and projecting eyes, although these features are less marked in him than in you (143e7-
9). Theodorus, judging by the standards of the many that he is beautiful who is beautiful in
appearance, as, similarly, he who is ugly is so by the same considerations, says that Theaetetus looks
like Socrates in having a snub nose and protruding eyes, though not to the same extent as Socrates.
Socrates knows that the beautiful is rather he who speaks well, i.e. the wise, as he said earlier.

◘ for he has a quickness of apprehension which is almost unrivalled, and he is exceedingly gentle,
and also the most courageous of men; there is a union of qualities in him such as I have never seen
in any other, and should scarcely have thought possible (144a3-6). Being quick to learn is a feature
of the rational part of the soul; being gentle and brave are features of the spirited part. It seems that
such things would be mutually exclusive, at least as good natural traits: for good natural traits are not
inter-entailing as the perfect virtues necessarily are, (X) but often conflict with one another. This is
why Theodorus says: ‘I didn’t think it would happen, nor do I see it happening.’ But just because he
did not expect it and does not see it happening, it does not immediately follow that it is impossible.
He bears witness to the fact that Theaetetus has these things.

◘ for those who, like him, have quick and ready and retentive wits, have generally also quick
tempers; they are ships without ballast, and go darting about, and are mad rather than courageous
(144a6-b1). Sharpness and subtlety and a good memory are good natural traits of the rational part:
sharpness in subtlety corresponds to thinking fluently and with agility, while good memory
corresponds to remaining in charge of one’s thoughts. So such people are usually flighty and rush
along excitedly, like ships without ballast: lightly because they are not weighed down, but
unpredictably because they do not have ballast. Young men like this are manic rather than brave: for
(XI) bravery is not impulsive but stable.

◘ and the steadier sort, when they have to face study, prove stupid and cannot remember (144b1-3).
‘Those who are steadier are, because they lack sharpness, slower to learn and forgetful.’ According
to the ancients, since there are many virtues and each has a corresponding good natural trait, there
was a question whether the good natural traits were inter-entailing: and it is agreed that they are not
at all. It is not however impossible that someone who has one has the others as well. For the Stoics,
this is not a question, since they underpin the virtues with one good natural trait. For they liken the
governing part of the soul to wax, which is malleable and able to take on any shape. This is why
what Aristo of Chios says is not without substance: if there is one good natural trait, there is one
virtue as well; but there is one good natural trait, as those against whom the argument is directed
agree; so there is one virtue.

◘ whereas he moves surely and smoothly and successfully in the path of knowledge and enquiry;
and he is full of gentleness, flowing on silently like a river of oil (144b3-5). He outlines how one
ought to be in (XII) matters of research and learning: that one must proceed smoothly, i.e. not by

5
leaps; calmly, not belligerently, but effectually, so that on makes progress. There must be gentleness
too and no ferocity – as oil flows, noiselessly.

◘ so that it is amazing that someone of such an age can obtain such results (144b6-7). ‘Of such an
age’ for ‘being young’. It is amazing if even at this age he conducts his inquiries with so much
propriety.

◘ That is good news (144b8). ΕΥΑΓΓΕΛΕΙΣ is to be read as one word: it means ‘you announce
noble [beautiful] things’.

◘ Theaetetus, Socrates, is his name (144d1). Theodorus does not remember the name of the father,
perhaps because Theaetetus had not been coming to him for long.

◘ but I rather think that the property disappeared in the hands of trustees; notwithstanding which he
is wonderfully liberal. [Soc.] He must be a fine fellow (144d1-5). It is appropriate for him to recall
his father and the ruin of his fortune by his guardians so that when he shows his liberality and
kindness he can establish it as something noble. (XIII) For among the most important things he tries
to find out is whether the young man is liberal or not, since illiberality is enough to destroy
everything. This is why in the Republic too, when he investigates who is good natured and who not,
he says: ‘But don’t let the presence of illiberality escape you!’ [Rep. 486a]

◘ If, then, he remarks on a similarity in our persons, either by way of praise or blame, there is no
particular reason why we should attend to him (145a10-12). Theodorus said that Theaetetus looked
like Socrates in having a snub nose and protruding eyes. In this he says that he is not [ . . .]

◘ But if he praises the virtue or wisdom which are the mental endowments of either of us, then he
who hears the praises will naturally desire to examine him who is praised: and he again should be
willing to exhibit himself (145b1-4). These things have been agreed among them: (XIV) that each is
qualified to speak about what he has experience of, and that Theodorus is the best qualified to speak
about mathematics. When someone like this praises a person’s soul, he would not have got it wrong.
For this reason, it is worthwhile for his interlocutor to inquire of the person he praised whether he is
like that or not – and for the person praised to offer himself up gladly to be examined.

◘ But don’t try to get out of what we have agreed with the pretence that Theodorus is joking (145c2-
3). Since they agreed that, since Theodorus is learned, he praised . . .
.
.
.
[Since Theaetetus says . . .] and ‘Make sure he is not joking’, Socrates shows that he is trying to get
out of what has been agreed and not stand by it because he does not want to show off.

◘ I should like to ask what you learn of Theodorus: something of geometry, perhaps? (145c7-8). He
did not say ‘You learn geometry from Theodorus’, (XV) but ‘something of geometry’. For the

6
discussion is not about composite knowledge (what some people call ‘systematic’ knowledge), but
about simple knowledge, such as the cognition of individual theorems which go to make up
geometry and music. These individual items of cognition go to make up one composite body of
knowledge (what is simple is prior to what is composite). He defined this [sc. ‘simple’ knowledge] in
the Meno as ‘right reason bound by an explanation of the reasoning’; Aristotle defined it as
‘supposition with proof’; Zeno as a ‘disposition in the receipt of impressions which is not subject to
modification by argument’ [ . . .]

◘ Yes, my boy, and so do I: and my desire is to learn of him, or of anybody who seems to understand
these things (145d4-5). This is said to encourage the young not to shrink from learning: for they will
not be ashamed to learn when Socrates at his age is unhesitatingly willing to learn.

◘ (XVI) Is not learning growing wiser about that which you learn? [Theaet.] Of course. [Soc.] And
by wisdom the wise are wise? [Theaet.] Yes. [Soc.] And is that different in any way from
knowledge? [Theaet.] What? [Soc.] Wisdom; are not men wise in that which they know? [Theaet.]
Certainly they are. [Soc.] Then wisdom and knowledge are the same? (145d7-e6). The argument is
fitted together as follows (if one ignores the foundations of some of the premises):
(1) he who learns becomes wiser;
(2) he who becomes wiser takes on wisdom; but
(3) wisdom is knowledge;
∴ (4) he who learns takes on knowledge.
But instead of this, he concludes that wisdom and knowledge are the same thing (i.e. mean the
same). For he said to him: ‘They are knowledgeable and wise in respect of the same things.’ The
fully articulated argument goes like this:
(1) he who learns becomes wiser;
(2) he who become wiser takes on wisdom;
∴ (3) he who learns takes on wisdom.
And since it has been agreed that:
(4) people are wise and knowledgeable in respect of the same things
it will be allowed (XVII) that:
(5) knowledge and wisdom are the same thing.
For he does not deduce that knowledge and wisdom are the same from the fact that the
knowledgeable and the wise are the same people, just as he does not deduce that grammar and music
are the same from the fact that grammarians and musicians are the same people. Rather, he deduces
that knowledge and wisdom are the same from the fact the knowledgeable and the wise have the
same things as their concern, not different things. (And so, in fact, if the expertises of grammar and
music were concerned with the same things, grammar and music would be the same.)
Going on from here, he made clear that his argument is about simple knowledge, adding to
‘becoming wiser’ the words ‘about the thing that someone learns’.

◘ Whoever misses shall sit down, as at a game of ball, and shall be donkey, as the boys say; he who
lasts out his competitors in the game without missing, shall be our king, and shall have the right of
putting to us any questions which he pleases (146a2-5). A type of game: they throw a ball in a line,

7
and those who do not catch it are called donkeys, and the one who does is the king, and he gives
orders to those who missed.

◘ (XVIII) I only want to make us talk and be friendly and sociable (146a7-8). For dialectic should
be the cause not of enmity but of friendship.

◘ The nobility and liberality of your nature make you give many and diverse things, when I am
asking for one simple thing (146d3-4). Socrates asked what knowledge is, i.e. what it is for
knowledge to be knowledge. But he enumerated many types of knowledge, like geometry and music,
and he went wrong because he did not give the essence of knowledge, and enumerated many types of
knowledge. (It would have been a mistake for him even to list just one, if he gave a species instead of
the genus, and defined prior things by things posterior.) It is as if someone who was asked what
‘animal’ is should reply ‘A man, a horse’. For things that are prior are predicated of those that fall
under them, not vice versa.
Genera are participated in and are simpler, but species participate and are more complex. For
a man is an animal, and in addition to this is rational and mortal. (XIX)
So: ‘giving many’ refers to the enumeration of types of knowledge; and ‘complex instead of
simple’ refers to the fact that he gave species, and these are more complex than genera; and he might
have said the same even if he had named just one type of knowledge, e.g. geometry. For knowledge
is simple insofar as it is participated in, and uncompounded insofar as it is considered in relation to
those things that fall under it; but geometry is complex insofar as it participates and is compounded.

◘ When you speak of cobbling, you mean the art or science of making shoes? [Theaet.] Just so.
[Soc.] And when you speak of carpentering, you mean the art of making wooden implements?
[Theaet.] I do (146d6-e3). If someone asks what knowledge is and you say that it is ‘cobbling’, you
are saying precisely that it is knowledge of shoe-making: for the cobbler’s knowledge would be of
making shoes. (Similarly, if you were to say ‘carpentry’ you mean just the knowledge of constructing
things from wood.) For this is what is peculiar to cobbling. That is misconstrued, they say. (XX) For
the thing and its definition are interchangeable, but the definition does not say exactly the same as its
name. Suppose that, to the question ‘What is a man?’, someone answers: ‘a rational, mortal animal’,
because a mortal rational animal is a man. We will not say in this case that he has given the answer
‘a man’ to the question ‘what is a man?’ For if you ask someone ‘Whose son was Achilles?’, and he
says ‘Achilles was the son of Peleus’, we could say that he has given the answer ‘Achilles’ to the
question ‘Whose son was Achilles?’ That is true – but only accidentally. So I say that his argument is
not directed against this, but established that Theaetetus’ answer was not to the point. For he was
asked about the thing itself – and this is to be understood as a question about what it is; but he
answered as if it was a question about what it stands in relation to. For being a this is a matter of
standing in relation to something.
He then hints at a principle of dialectic, that one should not define things prior by things
posterior – which would be as if one were to define what a thing is in itself through those things
encompassed by it! (But someone who answered the question ‘What is a man?’ (XXI) by saying
‘Socrates’ has defined the thing through itself: for Socrates is a man.) Thus if someone answers the
question ‘What is knowledge?’ by saying ‘Cobbling’, he has defined it through posterior things: for

8
the knowledge of making shoes is a kind of knowledge.

◘ In both cases you define the subject matter of each of the two arts? (146e4-5). So in each case,
cobbling and carpentry, by saying what each is knowledge of you have precisely said that knowledge
is that of which knowledge is.

◘ But that, Theaetetus, was not the point of my question: we wanted to know not the subjects, nor yet
the number of the arts or sciences, for we were not going to count them, but we wanted to know the
nature of knowledge in the abstract (146e7-10). He was asked ‘What is knowledge?’, but instead
answered what things knowledge is of. Species of knowledge are of particular things, as geometry,
cobbling. But also, asked for an account of one thing, he enumerated many: cobbling &c.

◘ Suppose that a person were to ask, for example, What is clay? and we were to reply, that there is a
clay of potters, there is a clay of stovemakers, there is a clay of brick-makers; would not the answer
be ridiculous? (147a2-5). (XXII) He uses substitution, which is absolutely necessary for clarification
in his refutation of mistakes. ‘As in the case of clay, someone who is asked ‘What is it?’ makes a
mistake if he says “brick-maker’s, stovermaker’s”, for he does not give the essence, and enumerates
many kinds of clay, and who uses them.’

◘ How can a man understand the name of anything, when he does not know the nature of it?
(147b2). Literally: ‘Do you think someone has understanding of a thing’s name when he does not
know what it is?’ For if he is ignorant of the thing, he will not understand the thing’s name, since the
name is a sign of something; and someone who is ignorant of a thing will not understand the sign for
it. Epicurus says that names are clearer than definitions, and it would be funny if, instead of saying
‘Hello, Socrates!’ one were to say ‘Hello, rational mortal animal!’ (XXIII) But definitions are not
adopted as greetings or as being more concise than names, but are used to unfold common
conceptions. This does not happen without getting each genus and the differentiae.

◘ Then he who does not know what science or knowledge is, has no knowledge of the art or science
of making shoes? (147b7). He does not say that, without understanding knowledge, it is not possible
to know cobbling, but that, if someone proposes that cobbling is knowledge, not knowing what
knowledge is, he will not understand cobbling insofar as it is called knowledge.

◘ And when a man is asked what science or knowledge is, to give in answer the name of some art or
science is ridiculous; for the question is, ‘What is knowledge?’ and he replies, ‘A knowledge of this
or that’ (147b10-c1). Someone who answers the question ‘What is skill?’ by giving the name of
some particular skill, e.g. geometry, makes a mistake. For such skills are of particular things, namely
those which they deal with; and the question was not what things skill deals with, but what it is.

◘ Moreover, he might answer shortly and simply, but he makes an infinite course for himself
(147c3-4). (XXIV) φαυλῶς means ‘simply’.
‘Shortly’, because definitions are more concise than if someone were to try to enumerate the
species that fall under it.

9
 ‘An infinite course’ because particulars are in a way infinite.

◘ For example, when asked about the clay, he might have said simply, that clay is earth mixed with
liquid. What sort of clay is not to the point (147c4-6). The easy and simple answer to someone who
asks ‘What is clay?’ is that it is earth mixed with liquid. (Not necessarily water: it could be wine or
something else; so it is specific enough to define it like this as earth mixed with liquid.) It is not
necessary to add whose clay it is, the brick-maker’s or the stove-maker’s.
Aristotle criticises these kinds of definition, as that of snow, that it is frozen water, and of
clay, that it is earth mixed with liquid, and of wine, that it is putrid water (so Empedocles: ‘water
putrefied in wood’). For snow is not water, he says; nor is clay earth, nor is wine water any more.
‘One should not account for a thing,’ he says, ‘by those things of which the genus is not truthfully
said, but by as many things as the genus given is truthfully predicated.’ (XXV) Let it be granted that,
in the case of wine, the genus is not truthfully said to be water. (Someone could say that even if we
allow that it formerly was water, it now no longer is, quite apart from the fact that it will not turn
back into water.) How, though, can we deny that clay is earth which has been affected in a certain
way by liquid? For it remains earth, which is why, when the liquid has been dried up, it will be earth
again. In the case of wind, he wondered whether one should say ‘air in movement’ adding ‘if, after
all, one has to agree that air is moved’. He should have said the same in the case of clay: the
definitions are given on a similar basis.

◘ Theodorus was writing out for us something about roots, such as the roots of three or five,
showing that they are incommensurable by the unit (147d3-5). This is a summary of what is being
said. Having constructed a square of 1ft, Theodorus showed Theaetetus’ group that a 3ft and a 5ft
square are incommensurable with it in respect of the sides from which each is derived. (XXVI) And
enumerating the incommensurable squares, he went up to a 17ft square. Now, since such squares are
infinite in number, Theaetetus and his group tried to formulate a general rule, so that they could
encompass all with a single term. They turned to number because it is unending since all numbers
are commensurate with each other . . .
.
.
. . . They called all the figures they found which have oblong numbers, like 3ft and 5ft and 6ft (for 3
and 5 and 6 are oblong numbers), ‘powers’. Their planes are commensurate with the plane of a 1ft
square, but their sides were incommensurate with the side of a 1ft square. They called all those that
have square numbers, like 4 or 9 or 16, ‘lengths’. For not only (XXVII) are their planes
commensurate with each other, and with the 1ft square, but their sides are commensurate both with
each other and with the side of the 1ft square, having a ratio of one whole number to another. Since
every [sc. whole] number is commensurate with every [whole] number because they have the unit as
a common measure, Theodorus for this reason posited the 1ft square as a unit, so that it could be
used to measure squares that have commensurate sides and those that do not. By the same method as
for planes, their research went on to look at solids. That is it in brief: now let us look more closely at
each part.
The ancients named squares ‘powers’: for a power is a power of something, and a line has
the power to be the square plane which arises from it. For the length of a finite line is definite, and if

10
one should think of it moving a distance equal to itself, one will make a square bounded by equal
sides. If it moves less or more (and each of these (XXVIII) can be taken indefinitely) one will make
oblong figures. So if you see the side of a square you know the figure that comes from it, but if you
see one side of a parallelogram and you do not know the other, you do not know the area of it either.
So he asks what line placed on a given line generated this area? Now, Theodorus, setting down a
square whose side is 1ft, and whose area is 1ft2 (for 1 x 1 = 1) showed that the squares whose planes
are 3ft, or 5ft, have planes commensurate with each other and with the 1ft square, but sides that are
incommensurate with each other and with the 1ft square: for there is no common measure by which
to measure them. The sides of a 2ft square and 1ft square are also incommensurate, but he passes
over this, they say, because he showed in the Meno that a square on the diagonal of a square is
double that on the side of the square. (XXIX) But some say that he does not pass over the 2ft square
because, even if it is not encompassed among those with equal factors, nevertheless it is divided into
equal powers of 1ft. These same people, proceeding on the same principles, will say that he does not
mention the power of the 6ft square either: for it is divided into two equal 3ft squares, or three 2ft
squares. It is clear that he will omit the 8ft square too and the 10ft and the 12ft and the 14ft and the
15ft. For each of these, even if not the product of equal factors, nevertheless can be divided into
equal parts. But perhaps it is not for this reason, but for the sake of simplicity: for it is quite easy to
draw a double-sized square on the diagonal, but there is a certain difficulty in showing that squares
of 3ft or 5ft and so on are incommensurate with a 1ft square. However, it is possible to draw them as
follows. Let ABC be a square, having a side, AB, of 1ft. It is clear that the square from this will be
(XXX) 1ft2, for 1 x 1 = 1. Extend the line AB, and divide it to make BD, equal to AB; draw on BD
the square BCDE. The square on BD is equal to the square on AB. But the whole which is AE is no
longer a square, but a parallelogram. Extend the line AD again and divide it to make DF equal to
BD, and draw the square DFEG on this. The square DFEG is equal to any of the previous squares;
but the whole figure on AF is a parallelogram. Again, extend the line AF and divide it to make FH
equal to DF. Let AH be bisected at point D; and with D as a centre and DA as radius, describe a
semicircle AKH, draw FK perpendicular to GE, and join KD. Since the line AH is divided into equal
parts by point D, but unequal parts at F, the figure produced by AF and FH together with the square
on DF, which is made in between the points of section, is equal to that on DK. But (XXXI) DK =
DH. So the square on DK is equal to the rectangle produced from AF and FH (which includes the
square on DF). But the sum of the squares on DF and FK is equal to the square on DH. So the sum
of the squares on DF and FK is equal to the rectangle produced from AF and FH (which includes the
square on DF). Subtract the common area, i.e. the square on DF. The remaining square on FK is
equal to the remaining rectangle produced from AF and FG, since FH is equal to FG. So the square
on FK is equal to the parallelogram AG. Hence the square on FK is incommensurable with the
parallelogram AG, which contains three 1ft squares all equal to each other.

11
(XXXII) As Theaetetus’ group passed on to numbers, as being clearer, so we ourselves shall use
them to demonstrate the matter in hand. Every number can be squared: being squared is for it to be
multiplied by itself. But not every number is a square: a square is the product of two equal factors.
So the unit is a square, as is 4 (4 = 2 x 2), and 9 (9 = 3 x 3) and 16 (16 = 4 x 4); and a square is
always produced from each number in turn, as from 5, 6, and so on ad infinitum. The numbers that
fall in between these square numbers are ‘oblong’, the product of unequal factors, as between 1 and
4 are 2 and 3, and between 4 and 9 are 5, 6, 7, 8; and between 9 and 16 and 11, 12, 13, 14, 15.
Substitute squares for numbers now (XXXIII) and you will find all planes commensurate with each
other and the unit square, but that some of them also have sides commensurate with the side of the
unit square. Those that are commensurate in both are named ‘lengths’, those that are commensurate
only in their planes, but incommensurate in their sides, are ‘powers’, to apply to them the common
term. Let the squares lie in a line, each having <written> within itself the value of its plane, and write
on top of those with commensurate sides the quantity of each:

As there are found to be two oblong numbers between 1 and 4, so between 4 and 9 there are four
oblongs, exceeding those before them by two. And again, those in between the next squares exceed
by two: and always as you proceed, each distance is increased by two, which is the quantity of
oblong numbers which are found between the unit square and the four square. Let this be added
because (XXXIV) it is nice; but Theodorus showed them that the 3-square and 5-square are
incommensurate in the length of their side with the unit square.

12
◘ He selected other examples up to seventeen – there he stopped (147d5-6). As with the 3ft square
power and the 5ft square power, he established the other similar powers and showed that they are
commensurate in their planes, but not in their sides: i.e. the 6ft square, 7ft square &c. in sequence up
to the 17ft square, except the 9ft and the 16ft. There are those who ask why he went up to 17 and
stopped there, and some say that Theodorus, being a geometer and musician, mixed geometrical and
musical theorems: the geometrical theorem concerns the power, while the musical theorem concerns
his stopping at 17ft – this being the limit that refutes the idea that the tone is not divided into equal
semitones. For since the tone (XXXV) is in a ratio of 9 to 8, if you double 8 and 9 they become 16
and 18, in the middle of which is 17, dividing the extremes into unequal parts. (This has been shown
in my commentary on the Timaeus.)
Others think that in the enumeration of powers he stopped there by chance, ‘somehow’. But
the words ‘he finished somehow’ move us to ask the cause of the stopping.
Perhaps it would be better to say that he went to 17ft since it is clear that only the square
whose area is 16ft has its area equal to its perimeter – i.e. the square whose sides are 4ft. Four sides
of 4ft make 16. But the square of 4 is 16 as well: 4 x 4 = 16. In squares of less than 4, the internal
area is less than the perimeter: for if the side be 2, the square on it is 4 (2 x 2 = 4). But (XXXVI) the
perimeter is 8 (4 x 2 = 8). Again, if the side is 3, the square on it is 9 (3 x 3 = 9), but the perimeter is
more: since there are four sides, and each is 3, putting them all together makes 12 (4 x 3 = 12). But
after the side of 4, the opposite obtains, for the area is greater than the perimeter. So, if the side is 5,
the square on it is 25 (5 x 5 = 25). But the perimeter is 20, since there are four sides, each of which is
5 (4 x 5 = 20). And always, going on, the area is greater than the perimeter.

◘ Now as there are innumerable roots, the notion occurred to us of attempting to include them all
under one name or class (147d7-e1). Since lines are capable of infinite extension or contraction
(XXXVII) but are made definite by numbers, they pass on to them. He hints that, since the infinite is
never-ending, and thought is undefined in such a matter, it is necessary as far as possible to embrace
it and define it with a universal principle. As in the case of men, there are an infinite number of
individuals, but dialectic separates them out from members of other genera and from members of the
same genus who are not however of the same species and calls this species ‘man’: so here, since
there seems to be an infinite number of powers based on lengths, Theaetetus’ group tried to
encompass them with a common term.

◘ We divided all number into two classes: those which are made up of equal factors multiplying into
one another, which we compared to square figures and called square or equilateral numbers
(147e5-7). Number can be increased infinitely, and one cannot encompass what goes on to infinity.
So what does he mean when he says ‘all number’ (the words of someone who has encompassed all
of it)? (XXXVIII) It must mean something like this: for any given number, that number is either
square or oblong. They could also have divided them into even and odd, or prime and composite, but
they used square and oblong to adapt them to sizes. ‘So the number that is the product of equal
numbers (that is which is embraced by two equal numbers, as 4: for this is embraced by equals, for 2
x 2 = 4), comparing such a number to a square figure we for this reason call it a “square number”
and “equilateral”.’ For no number has sides or corners, but by similarity with sizes is called ‘square’,
‘triangular’, ‘oblong’, ‘equilateral’.

13
◘ The intermediate numbers, such as three and five, and every other number which is made up of
unequal factors, either of a greater multiplied by a less, or of a less multiplied by a greater, and
when regarded as a figure, is contained in unequal sides. All these (XXXIX) we compared to
oblong figures, and called them oblong numbers (147e9 - 148a4). ‘We have shown that numbers
between square numbers are oblong.’ What he is saying is that the numbers in between, i.e. between
1 and 4 (which is a square number having whole-number sides of 2) – those numbers, then, between
the square numbers, like 3 and 5, are oblong: they cannot be the product of equals. And all numbers
like this are oblong; for oblongs are embraced by unequals. Each is the product either of a larger
number multiplied by a smaller, like 6 (2 x 3 = 6: 2 is smaller, 3 is larger), or a smaller number
multiplied by a larger (as 3 x 2 = 6 as well, but in this case from multiplication by the larger, for 3 is
to 2 as larger to smaller). Such a number is always embraced by larger and smaller sides because the
containing sides are unequal. Numbers like this, which are always produced by larger and smaller
numbers, are like oblong figures and we called them oblong numbers.

◘ (XL) The lines, or sides, which have for their squares the equilateral plane numbers, were called
by us lengths (148a6-7). The line is prior to the side, because the line is absolute, the side relative:
the side is the side of something. So they name it from that which is most basic.
‘The lines, or sides, which have for their squares the equilateral plane numbers . . .’ It is
possible to be equilateral but not plane, if it takes linear form. And it can be equilateral and plane and
not a square, as the plane equilateral triangle. When one adds to this having four angles and four
sides equal to each other, then one gets a square. And if the sides and area have a number, then it
becomes rational. And squares like this ‘. . . were called by us lengths’.

◘ and the lines which are the roots of (or whose squares are equal to) the oblong numbers, were
called powers or roots; the reason of this latter name being, that they are commensurable with the
former not in linear measurement, but in the value of the superficial content of their squares (148a7-
b2). When he talked above about ‘square equilateral plane number’, he made it clear that (XLI)
squares and sides and planes like this are commensurate with the 1ft square. Here, however, he did
not mention the equilateral, but says ‘The lines which have for their squares an oblong we call
“powers” ’ – because the squares from such lines have commensurate planes, but not commensurate
sides.

◘ and the same about solids (148b2). In order not to extend the exposition, and to get on to number,
he cuts the account short saying ‘and the same about solids’. (He did the same in the case of square
numbers, when he went through the way that some of them are commensurate with the 1ft square in
both respects, others only in respect of the plane.) Anyone who understands about planes will
understand about solids: you just need to add a side, and the rest will be understood by the same
logic. As now, some square figures are commensurate with the unit square power in length and
breadth, and these they called ‘lengths’, while others are commensurate in breath but not in length,
and these they called ‘powers’, using the common term, (XLII) so in the case of solids, they come to
the cubic figure, and posited a cube whose three sides are each 1ft, and they produce one solid foot.
And choosing a cube of 2ft and another of 3, then 4, they find that solid is commensurate with solid

14
(for they have the same ratio as number to number), although the sides are incommensurate; but they
found other cubes whose volume and sides were commensurate with the unit cube, like 8 (each of
whose sides is 2: 2 x 2 = 4 and 2 x 4 = 8) and 27 (3 x 3 = 9; 3 x 9 = 27).
They passed on then to numbers, to look find some universal principle; and just as in the
case of planes, they compared the product of equals to a square figure and named them ‘squares’, but
the product of unequals they called ‘oblongs’, so here solid numbers which are the product of three
equals they called ‘cubes’, but the product of three unequals they called ‘cuboids’. Since some cubes
are commensurate in volume and side, these they named ‘lengths’, but some are commensurate in
volume but incommensurate in sides, (XLIII) and these, because of their similarity with the former,
they called ‘solid powers’. And as in the case of plane numbers some could not be the product of
equals, but either of a greater number multiplied by a smaller, or a smaller by a greater, so in the case
of solids. Some, the product of three unequals, are called ‘wedges’ (for all their sides are unequal),
others are the product of two equals and an unequal. Of those which are the product of two equals
and an unequal, those in which the unequal factor is the smaller are called ‘little plinths’ (e.g. 3 x 3 =
9; 2 x 9 = 18: the upper side is smaller than the rest). Those in which the unequal factor is larger are
called ‘little beams’ (e.g. 2 x 2 = 4; 3 x 4 = 12).

(XLIV) In the case of squares, the number 16 is the number of the perimeter of a square with sides
of 4 and the number of its area, and it was shown that this lay in the middle of cases where the ratio
between side and area was greater or smaller. Similarly, the number of volume is equal to the number
of the perimeter in the case of 6 cubed (which is 216): volumes based on a lower or higher number
cubed will exceed or fall short of the perimeter.
In the case of solids too, the cubes derived from lines which construct a cubic figure from a
cubic number are called ‘lengths’ (because they are commensurate with respect to length), or
something analogous; but those from lines which do not construct a cubic figure from a cubic
number they call ‘powers’, or something analogous (because they are incommensurate in length but
commensurate in the cubes constructed from them).

◘ Excellent, my boys! (148b3). By adding ‘Excellent, my boys!’ he makes clear that he is very

15
pleased. He set these things out and praised them in order to teach how one should do research. First,
one ought to go from things that are less clear to things that are more so (XLV) – as they went from
quantities to numbers. Secondly, one ought to proceed to what is more universal, for what fits all
similar cases is more knowable than what is of individuals – as square lengths are encompassed by a
single definition, and square powers by another single definition. Thirdly, what has been taken up
becomes more useful if the procedure can be adapted to similar cases – as here they used the same
route for plane extensions and solids as they did for numbers. In the manner of the ancient method of
teaching (although it might be that people more recently have done the same), he passes to the more
universal theorem which extends to cover all similar cases, which is more useful. To hell with people
who know nothing of the ancient method of teaching and accuse Plato of being uncultured or
ambitious or anything of the sort!

◘ And yet, Socrates, I shouldn’t be able to answer your question about knowledge in the same way
that I answered the one about lengths and powers (148b5-7). ‘We encompassed similar squares in
one species and called them “lengths”, and put the “powers” in another; but I cannot give you an
answer which separates knowledge in the same way (XLVI) from other things.’

◘ And is the discovery of the nature of knowledge so small a matter, as I said just now? Is it not one
which would task the powers of men perfect in every way? (148c6-7). In the foregoing, when he
called them to discussion, he said that he himself is trying to learn, and felt comfortable about most
things, but had one ‘small’ difficulty concerning knowledge: what on earth it is. This he now
corrects, because it is not a small matter of inquiry, but one for the people at the summit of
achievement. That it is not something trivial is clear from the fact that in dealing with its essence one
has to grasp whether knowledge differs from skill, whether it is found in those who are not sages as
well, and what the matter that underlies it is.

◘ Come, you made a good beginning just now; let your own answer about roots be your model, and
as you comprehended them all in one class, try and bring the many sorts of knowledge under one
definition (148d4-7). For the natural conceptions are in need of articulation. Before this, people
apprehend things, insofar as they have traces of the natural conceptions; but they do not apprehend
them clearly. This is why (XLVII) Theaetetus was not in position to give an adequate account of
knowledge, but did not find it easy to listen easily to anyone else properly either, as Socrates
encouraged him to do.

◘ [Tht.] I cannot shake off a feeling of anxiety. [Soc.] These are the pangs of labour, my dear
Theaetetus; you have something within you which you are bringing to the birth (148e5-7). And yet,
although he did not hit on it, Theaetetus does not give up searching for what knowledge is. His good
nature meant that he was full of common conceptions, and that they were not buried too deep in him.

◘ And have you never heard that I practice the same skill myself? (149a4). ‘So do you see that I
myself have the same skill as my mother, because I act as midwife?’ He called himself a midwife
after her, his method of teaching being like midwifery. Sometimes he expounded and committed
himself to doctrines; but when he was teaching, he prepared his students to talk about things

16
themselves, unfolding and articulating their natural conceptions. And this way of doing things
follows from the doctrine that so-called acts of ‘learning’ (XLVIII) are in fact acts of remembering,
and that the soul of every man has seen what exists and does not need learning to be placed in it, but
needs reminding. This doctrine will be discussed in my commentary on On the Soul [sc. Phaedo].

◘ but you must not reveal the secret (149a6-7). This, so that people do not despise him as worthless,
or else admire him so much that they do not come near him for fear of being refuted.

◘ But they, because they don’t know this, say of me, that I am the strangest of mortals and drive men
to their wits’ end (149a8-9). ‘Those who don’t know that I am a midwife say that I am really strange
for throwing others into doubt.’ This happens to people who come to Socrates because they are
forced to talk for themselves about their own conceptions.

◘ No woman, as you are probably aware, who is still able to conceive and bear, attends other
women (149b5-6). Midwives do not practise midwifery while they are able to conceive and give
birth, but when they have passed this time of life.

◘ It was because she, who undertook the patronage of childbirth, was herself unmarried (149b9-10).
In the case of a married woman, the word ἄλοχος means (XLIX) ὁμόλοχος i.e. ‘sharing the bed’.
For the α- means ‘together with’, as in the word ἀκόλουθος [‘follower’]. In the case of Artemis,
ἄλοχος means ‘deprived of a <marriage> bed’: here the alpha is privative, as it is in the word
ἀγάμος [‘unmarried’].

◘ she could not allow the barren to be midwives, because human nature cannot know the mystery of
an art without experience (149b10-c2). She did not allow sterile and infertile women to be
midwives, because they cannot conceive or give birth. For a person cannot acquire a skill in those
matters in which [ . . . ] preparatory experiences precede the skill.

◘ And I dare say too, or rather I am absolutely certain, that the midwives know better than others
who is pregnant and who is not? (149c5-6). Some women look pregnant although they are not – for
example, women who want to pass themselves off as pregnant, and eat and drink in order to swell
the belly. But midwives know who is pregnant and who is not.

◘ And by the use of potions and incantations they are able to arouse the pangs and to soothe them
at will (149c9-d2). When the contractions become more frequent, they encourage them by giving
them drugs that speed the contractions up. And when (L) they want to calm the pain, they start by
making the contractions less frequent.

◘ and if they think fit to abort it while it is young, they abort it (149d3). ‘Young’ for ‘undeveloped’.
If it seems right to abort in cases like this, they arrange it.

◘ Did you ever remark that they are also most cunning matchmakers, and have a thorough
knowledge of what unions are likely to produce the best children? (149d5-8). It is an appropriate

17
part of a midwife’s job to act as a go-between and arrange unions – so he says that they are the
cleverest at seeing whose marriage will lead to the best children. He makes it clear that marriages are
natural when they are contracted for the sake of producing children, and of these the greatest are
those which are contracted for the sake of producing the best children.

◘ Then applying this to women, will there be one art of the sowing and another of the harvesting?
(149e6-7). It is, he declares, the business of a single skill, namely agriculture, to know how to harvest
crops and to know which ground best suits which seed. Along similar lines, it is the same skill that
considers which seeds are right for a woman, and how to bring them (LI) to birth. For childbirth is
similar to harvesting – although not the same, because the woman does not purely have the role of
matter, nor does man correspond only to the seed, but each of them is ensouled. That is why it is so
important to fit them [ . . . ]

◘ Women do not bring into the world at one time real children, and at another time phantasms
which are with difficulty distinguished from them; if they did, then the, discernment of the true and
false birth would be the crowning achievement of the art of midwifery (150a9-b3). Women
sometimes give birth to ‘phantasms’, namely when they give birth to aberrations or have false
pregnancies. They have ‘real’ children on those occasions when things go according to nature. So he
is not now denying that women sometimes have phantasms and sometimes real children: that would
be false. It will be clear if you transpose the words as follows: ‘Women do not find it difficult to
distinguish when they give birth to phantasms, and when to real children. If they did . . .’ (LII) What
if was not easy for them to distinguish between giving birth to phantasms and giving birth to real
children? In this case, it would be the finest skill they had to be able to distinguish which was real
and which was not. As it is, there is no difficulty in the diagnosis of these matters.

◘ The triumph of my art is in thoroughly examining whether the thought which the mind of the
young man brings forth is a false idol or a noble and true birth (150b9-c3). This makes it clear that
what he said earlier, that women sometimes give birth to phantasms and sometimes to real children,
should be understood as I have explained it. And this makes his ‘midwifery’ more serious than the
type concerned with women, because in their case it is not difficult to distinguish whether it is a
phantasm or a real child that is born. But it is not easy to discern whether the thoughts of the young
contain false beliefs or true ones.
One might ask how it is that anyone can have a thought that is a ‘phantasm’, or false, (LIII)
if you believe that learning is always recollection. In fact, this would be a difficulty for us if the claim
was that souls had knowledge equally prior to embodiment and when they are in the body [. . .]
.
.
.

[ . . .] of the slow are joined to bodies, and different souls are joined to different bodies, and to
different characters. Again, some souls remember more quickly, some more slowly. Some are
completely confused, cannot make any judgements, have a random disposition, and so acquire false
thoughts.

18
◘ I am barren of wisdom (150c4). Not wholly: further on, anyway, he will say that he is wise, but not
completely. But ‘I am unable to generate wisdom in others’: for he does not himself teach, but
articulates the conceptions of the young. Midwives too (LIV) assist others to give birth; and, just as
they once used to give birth but no longer do so when they are midwives, so Socrates ‘conceives’
and ‘gives birth’ in his own right, but acts infertile when he is playing midwife to the beliefs of the
young.

◘ and the reproach which is often made against me, that I ask questions of others and have not the
wit to answer them myself (150c4-7). ‘When I ask people, I don’t assert anything, but I listen to
them. This comes about because, as far as this kind of teaching is concerned, I have nothing wise to
say.’ If one is to understand his ‘not having wisdom’ straightforwardly, it is either because he is not
wise with the kind of wisdom he attributes to god, or because is not wise with the kind of wisdom
that others attribute to sophists.
Some people infer from these words that Plato was an Academic, in the sense of not having
doctrines. My account will show that even other members of the Academy did, with very few
exceptions, (LV) have doctrines, and that the Academy is unified by the fact that its members hold
their most important doctrines in common with Plato. In any case, the fact that Plato held doctrines
and declared them with conviction can be grasped from Plato himself.

◘ The reason is, that the god compels me to be a midwife, but does not allow me to bring forth
(150c7-8). [ . . .] whenever he spoke with the young, for then he judges their opinions. The cause of
this is god’s arranging that souls should not learn but recollect. For if he engendered conceptions,
there would no longer be recollection.

◘ And therefore I am not myself completely wise (150c8-d1). Here he is speaking for himself if his
use of midwifery is brought against him as an accusation. Because of this accusation he praises
himself in these words: the accusation he makes against himself is not that he is not wise, but that he
is not ‘completely’ wise.

◘ nor have I anything to show which is the invention or birth of my own soul (150d1-2). (LVI) Not
‘invention’ and ‘birth’ without qualification, but when he acts as midwife to others. The sequel
makes it clear that it should be referred to the fact that those who associate with him learn nothing
from him.

◘ the many fine discoveries to which they give birth are of their own making (150d7-8). How can he
maintain that souls recollect if they learn or ‘discover’? One answer is that those who have lost
something and get it back later are also said to ‘discover’ it. And anyway, he does not always use the
term ‘recollection’, but only when it is the principal object of his inquiry. He made this clear in the
Meno when he said: ‘It makes no difference if we say that it can be learnt or remembered.’

◘ But to me and the god they owe their delivery (150d8-e1). For the conceptions are not enough to
declare someone wise, unless they are also articulated.

19
◘ if my daemon allows, which is not always the case, I receive them (151a3-5). ‘Allows’ for ‘does
not oppose’, since Socrates’ daemon was not always negative in its injunctions, but sometimes
encouraging.

◘ These are the pangs which my art is able to arouse and to allay (151a8-b1). (LVII) ‘My skill
rouses up contractions of difficulty when it merely inquires, but stops them when it helps by
supplying the interlocutor points of departure and directions.’

◘ But at times, Theaetetus, I come across people who do not seem to me somehow to be pregnant
(151b2-3). In fact, in the Symposium he says that all men are pregnant in soul and body, and it is
likely that pregnancy of the soul in this case is recollection. So how can he say here that he thinks
that some are pregnant? You have to understand the qualification ‘in this life’. For although
recollection is sometimes possible, it cannot be readily available in every incarnation. It was not for
nothing that he wrote ‘somehow’ before ‘pregnant’: is it there so that it would be understood that in
some way they are not pregnant, i.e. insofar as recollection is not readily available. But in general
terms, souls must be pregnant.

◘ Many of them I have given away to Prodicus, and many to other inspired sages (151b5-6). The
philosopher sits down with (LVIII) those who are worthy. But his philanthropy leads him to bring
together those who are not. Thus he teamed up Theages with Prodicus.
In calling the sophists ‘inspired’ and ‘wise’, he showed that he is infertile with their kind of
wisdom.

◘ they do not think that I act from good will, not knowing that no god is the enemy of man: that was
not within the range of their ideas. Neither am I their enemy in all this, but it would be wrong for me
to acquiesce in falsehood, or to remove the truth (151c7 - d3). ‘Those put right in their inquiries by
me do not realise that it is through kindness that I take away from them their false belief. No god is
unkindly disposed towards men, and nor do I do anything through ill intent, but I help by removing
false opinion from them. For it is not allowed for me either to acquiesce in falsehood or to remove
truth.’ You see what he says about himself? (And they call him ironical!) He says that he is like god
in being well-disposed towards people and, what is no less important than this, in neither acquiescing
in falsehood nor removing truth. In this is shown the character of his knowledge and beneficence,
insofar as (LIX) he cares for those he comes across.
But how can he say that he would not acquiesce in falsehood or remove truth, since he does
use these tactics in his inquiries? In the Republic, it is even allowed that the rulers might use
falsehood as a kind of medicine. My reply is that in inquiries he asks questions and does not make
declarations, so that he does not set out falsehood or truth. But to those familiar with his method he
covertly indicates what he thinks. Falsehood as such he repudiates, but he thinks that it is sometimes
necessary. This is why he did not say that it would be wrong to ‘hide the truth’ or ‘pass over’ it,
because this kind of thing is sometimes useful; but he talked of removing it. He means thereby
destroying the truth inappropriately and needlessly.

20
◘ Now he who knows perceives what he knows, and, as far as I can see at present, knowledge is
perception (151e1-3). ‘Someone who knows something “sees” what he knows. But if to perceive is
to know, knowledge becomes perception.’ ‘Perception’ is not be understood as the organ of
perception, but as what is registered in the mind.
How could Theaetetus, (LX) who replied earlier to the question what knowledge is by listing
geometry and the rest, now take refuge in perception, although he is a geometer, and although
understanding refutes perception . . . ?
.
.
.
.
.
. . . for Theaetetus got interested in Protagoras’ writings when he met his friend Theodorus. He
makes this clear when Socrates asks him if he has come across the writing On Truth, and Theaetetus
says that he came across it many times. So why is it surprising if he suggests that knowledge . . .
.
. . . knowledge is perception?

◘ Bravely said, boy; that is the way in which you should express your opinion (151e4-5). (LXI)
Theaetetus, when asked what knowledge is, said ‘at any rate as it now seems to me’, and Socrates
gathers that he does not shrink from saying what knowledge seems to him to be, what he thinks it is.
He is not making the Pyrrhonian claim that one cannot dogmatize about anything at all but only say
what appears to one.
According to the Pyrrhonist, the criterion is not reason, or the true impression, or the
plausible impression, or the cataleptic impression, but the impression he now has. He does not
declare if anything is a certain way or not, because he thinks that the arguments on both sides are
equally balanced, and he makes the impressions equivalent in weight and allows no difference
between them – whether true or false, persuasive or unpersuasive, clear or murky, cataleptic or non-
cataleptic. All are alike. (It follows for them – although this is not asserted as a dogma – that one
should live according to the impressions one always receives, not because they are true, but because
that is how things now seem to one.)

◘ Well, you have delivered yourself of a very important doctrine about knowledge; it is indeed the
opinion of Protagoras, who has another way (LXII) of expressing it, Man, he says, is the measure
of all things, of the existence of things that are, and of the non-existence of things that are not
(151e8 - 152a4). And he himself knew that Protagoras’ belief about knowledge differed from
Theaetetus’, and because of this he said ‘you have delivered yourself of a very important doctrine; it
is indeed the opinion of Protagoras, who has another way of expressing it’.
.
.
.
.
. . . through which it is judged. For he says that it is an ‘obscure judgement’, one aspect of which is

21
the appearance [emphasis] (which is used for ‘perception’), the other convention [nomos] (used for
‘opinion’). He said that everything is, for this reason, relative, because it flows, so that every
impression is grasped relative to the person judging. This means that it is only in respect of
something else that anything is thought or spoken of or has its being: just as something on the right is
to the right of something on the left, and something similar is similar to something similar, and large
(LXIII) is relative to small.
The Pyrrhonians say that everything is relative in a different sense, according to which
nothing is in itself, but everything is viewed relative to other things. Neither colour nor shape nor
sound nor taste nor smells nor textures nor any other object of perception has an intrinsic character –
otherwise it would not be possible for the same entities to have different effects according to their
distance, or the things seen in combination with them (as when the sea strikes us differently), or the
atmospheric conditions. But consistent identity is not conferred by the sense organs either – for
otherwise animals would not be affected differently by the same things (e.g. goats love foliage and
pigs like mud, though men are repelled by both of them). From the senses, they pass on to reason to
show that this too is relative: different people give assent under different conditions, and the same
people change their minds and do not persist with their own view.

◘ Does he not say that things are to you such as they appear to you, and to me such as they appear
to me, and that you and I are men? (152a6-8). It follows from the fact that everything (LXIV) flows
that nothing is fixed or the same (for neither the judge nor what is judged is so), but as things strike
us variously, so they are reckoned to be. For this reason, what I experience is what exists for me; but
what exists for you is what you experience. And by this hypothesis man becomes not only judge of
his own feelings and states, but also measure [ . . .]

◘ Let us try to follow him: the same wind is blowing, and yet one of us may be cold and the other
not, or one may be slightly and the other very cold? (152b1-3). In saying ‘Let us try to follow him’,
he makes it clear that he follows a hypothesis such as that no wind has its own character, and no
person has the same experiences of the same thing. And he added ‘from the same thing’ since some
winds are cold, some are warm, and it should not look as if this is the reason that some people feel
cold and some do not. But when the north wind, for example, is blowing, and they are in the same
place and at (LXV) the same time (for Protagoras assumes this too, since the altitude and season of
the year make a big difference to the way in which people are disposed), and all other things being
equal, one man feels cold and another does not; and of those who feel cold, one feels very cold, one
only a little.

◘ Now is the wind in itself cold or not? (152b5-6). Activity is one thing, experience another. If they
have opposite experiences from the same thing, they will agree that the characteristic of the agent is
not definite: for the same thing cannot work different effects at the same time. This is why the
Cyrenaics say that only experiences are cataleptic, but what is external is non-cataleptic. That I am
burnt, they say, I grasp cataleptically; that the fire has the property of burning is unclear. If it had that
property, everyone would be burnt by it.

◘ Or are we to say, with Protagoras, that the wind is cold to him who is cold, and not to him who is

22
not? (156b6-7). ‘Or will we be persuaded by him that the same wind is cold to the man who feels
cold but not cold to the man who does not feel cold?’ For if it was cold, he would have felt cold too.
(LXVI) In the same way what is on the right for one person is not for another.

◘ [Soc.] Then it must appear so to each of them? [Theaet.] Yes. [Soc.] And ‘appears to him’ means
the same as ‘he perceives.’ [Theaet.] True. [Soc.] Then appearing and perceiving coincide in the
case of hot and cold, and in similar instances (152b9-c2). When you look, he has constructed his
argument against him in the third figure:
(1) as things seem to each, such they are to him; and
(2) as they seem, so he perceives them.
He goes on to conclude:
(3) as each perceives them, so they are for him.
But he will apply the term ‘perception’, and say that perception and knowledge are the same thing.
Protagoras gives the first premise of the argument: As things seem to each, such they are to him – as
in the case of the same wind which is cold to one person but not another. The second Plato
established, saying that seeming is perceiving: for every apprehension, whether through a sense
organ or through something else they call ‘perception’.

◘ for things appear, or may be supposed to be, to each one such as he perceives them (152c2-3).
Protagoras has said ‘As things (LXVII) seem to each, such they are to him’; but Socrates . . .
.
.

◘ Then perception is always of existence, and being the same as knowledge is unerring? (152c5-6).
He says that it is . . .
.
.
. . . if perception strikes this man who . . . it . . .

◘ I am about to speak of a high argument, in which all things are said to be relative; you cannot
rightly call anything by any name (152d2-4). He says that the doctrine that substances are in flux is
reputable in the sense of being a commonly held view [endoxon], because it is something that all
poets and most sophists believe. (LXVIII) So nothing is anything in itself, that is, nothing has
substantial existence in itself, but everything is relative.
He clearly refers to substance when he says ‘you cannot call it anything’ – for ‘something’
expresses substance; and to quantity when it is said ‘one thing in itself’; and to quality through the
words ‘of some kind’.

◘ If you call a thing large, it will reveal itself as small, and if you call it heavy, it is liable to appear
as light (152d4-5). Large and small and heavy and light are relatives: for they are considered
according to their relationship with something else. ‘Large’ is nothing in itself, otherwise it would
always be large but, as it is, the same thing seems small when placed next to something larger than it.
Similarly with small and heavy and light, because things are now one now the other according to

23
their relationships with different things.

◘ and so on with everything, because nothing is one or anything or any kind of thing (152d5-6). As
nothing would be large (for the same thing is found to be small), so everything else takes on opposite
predicates through not being one, that is, not having a definite quantity.

(LXIX)
.
.
.
◘ What is really true is this: the things of which we naturally say they ‘are’ are in process of coming
to be, as the result of movement and change and blending with one another. We are wrong when we
say they ‘are’ since nothing ever is, but everything is coming to be (152d7-e1).
.
.

. . . he hints . . .
.
.
. . . we call such things ‘entities’ [. . . ] but they never ‘are’. What is in flux, according to some, does
not increase or decrease in the way that something peculiarly qualified can. Their point is that only
what is the same thing can acquire addition; similarly, it is the same thing that becomes smaller, viz.
when it is reduced by a certain amount. Increase, decrease and individual qualification, then, are
inter-entailing, so that (LXX) if one of them is conceded, the rest are given, and if one is denied, the
rest are denied.
Pythagoras was the first to use the Growing Argument, and Plato used it, as we noted in
commenting on the Symposium. Members of the Academy argue in this direction as well: they
themselves are clear that they believe in growth, but since the Stoics establish this when it does not
need proof, they show us that, if someone wishes to prove what is obvious, someone else will easily
find more persuasive arguments to the contrary.

◘ Summon all philosophers–Protagoras, Heraclitus, Empedocles, and the rest of them, one after
another–and with the exception of Parmenides they will agree with you in this (155e2-4). ‘On the
fact that everything is in motion, all the wise agree, with the exception of Parmenides.’ For he,
considering the nature of form, but ignoring matter, says that ‘he wishes the name for the All to be
One and Unmoved’. As to the other physicists, it is easy to grasp that they say everything is in
motion; and even Empedocles gave us ‘effluences’ (LXXI) and says that dogs track ‘fragments of
the limbs of beasts’ [ . . . ] this because [ . . .] dying [ . . .].

◘ Summon the great masters of either kind of poetry: Epicharmus, the prince of Comedy, and
Homer of Tragedy (152e4-5). Epicharmus, an associate of the Pythagoreans, put across a number of
things well in his plays, not least the Growing Argument, which he treated in a systematic and
convincing way. It is quite clear that things are added and subtracted: the question is whether one

24
thing remains constant as it gets larger or smaller. If not, the constant flux means that substances are
changing all the time. Epicharmus represented this as a comedy in which a man who is asked for his
contribution to a feast denies that he is the same man, on the grounds that some parts have been
added to him and others lost. When the man asking for the money hits him and is prosecuted, he uses
the same argument himself, saying that the man who did the hitting is different from the one being
prosecuted.
He said that Homer was a tragic poet because in antiquity any poem that dealt with heroic
actions was called a tragedy.

◘ And who could take up arms against such a great army having Homer for its general, and not
appear ridiculous? (153a1-?2).
.
.

(LXXII)
.
◘ There are plenty of other proofs which will show that motion is the source of what is called being
and becoming, and inactivity of not-being and destruction; for fire and warmth, which are supposed
to be the parent and guardian of all other things, are born of movement and friction, which is a kind
of motion. Is not this the origin of fire? (153a7-10)
.
.

(LXXIII) i.e. is held together; and it is generated from movement and friction.’ The τούτω is a dual.
But these, movement and friction, are motions: movement uncontroversially, but friction too:
even if it is not a motion, it is not without motion. He called these ‘the generative processes of fire’.
Wood, when the wind creates friction in it, catches fire, and stones which are rubbed and struck emit
fire. And this, they say, is how one should think the fire of Aetna was ignited, and how one should
explain so-called ‘Vulcanic’ phenomena, viz. because [ . . . ] by friction [ . . . ] phenomena [ . . ]
catching fire.
When they say that things come to be by the agency of fire, they mean the kind of fire that
burns, but that things come to be because of the heat it emits.

◘ And the race of animals is generated in the same way (153b2-3). ‘And animals are generated from
heat and fire’: it is not the seed that generates the animal, but the heat in it. Semen which has been
cooled is infertile, and ‘wind eggs’ cannot be brought to completion.

◘ Is not the soul informed, and improved, and preserved by study and attention, which are motions?
(153b9-10)

(LXXIV)
.
.

25
◘ So motion is a good, and rest otherwise, to the soul as well as to the body (153c3-4). ‘So
movement of the body and soul is good, rest is evil’ – if we are to understand ‘evil’ for ‘otherwise’,
for then there is a full correspondence: ‘what is evil for the soul and body is rest’.

◘ and the crowning argument, on which I insist, is the golden chain in Homer, by which he means
the sun (153c8-d1). ‘Crown’ [kolophon] is used proverbially as the end of things either because of
the colloquial expression ‘That’s put the crown on it’, or because the Colophonians vote twice in the
Panionian assembly . . .
.
.
The ‘golden chain’ is what he calls the relative order of the stars, at the head of which is the sun.

◘ he indicates that so long as the sun and the heavens go round in their orbits, all things human and
divine are and are preserved (153d1-2)
.
(LXXV)
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
◘ Then now apply his doctrine to perception, my good friend, and first of all to vision; that which
you call white colour is not in your eyes, and is not a distinct thing which exists out of them. And you
must not assign any place to it: for if it had position it would be, and be at rest, and there would be
no process of becoming (153d8 - e?2)
.
.

26
fr. A .
.
◘ And this should be the way of speaking, not only of particulars but of aggregates (157b8-9)

fr. D [sic: cf. Sedley 1997].

◘ You are forgetting, my friend. I don’t know anything about this kind of thing myself, and I don’t
claim any of it as my own. I am barren of theories; my business is to attend you in your labour. So I
chant incantations over you and offer you little tit-bits from each of the wiser till I succeed in
assisting you to bring your own belief forth into the light (157c7-d2)
.
He made these remarks by way of offering a small reminder (ὑπομνήμα). But they are both
absolutely essential and, perhaps, not inappropriate here. They seem to me to be made in a way
which is effective against the majority of the Platonists, who say that the Theaetetus is about the
criterion, and are reminding us that his preceding words were a summary account of the criterion ‘by
which’ judgement is made, with regard to the things which some have said are, in a way, such a
criterion . . .

fr. B .
◘ Is it your opinion that nothing is but what becomes? the good and the noble, as well; as all the
other things which we were just now mentioning? (157d7-8)
.
‘things that are good and noble and whatever we have listed “become” ’. These would be perceptible
and perceived things.

◘ Let us not leave the argument unfinished, then; for there still remains to be considered an
objection which may be raised about dreams and diseases, in particular about madness, and the
various illusions of hearing and sight, or of other senses (157e1-4). What he said previously
established Protagoras’ opinion. What he now says is opposed to it. So why does he say, as if
establishing it ‘Let us not leave out the rest’? Because both raising objections and establishing a
solution [ . . . ]

fr. C .
.

◘ For you know that in all these cases the esse-percipi theory appears to be unmistakably refuted,
since in dreams and illusions we certainly have false perceptions (157e4 - 158a2). As to dreams and
the impressions of the mad [ . . . ]

27
 GLOSSARY

Epistemological
apprehend: epiballein (see XLVI.46).
cataleptic (impression): kataleptikos (phantasia). I transcribe the word since it corresponds to a
technical term for which there is no modern equivalent. It originates with the Stoics, who use
it to describe impressions whose truth is evident and which therefore ‘call to be grasped’ by
the mind.
cognition: gnôsis. (This is taken to be equivalent to ‘simple knowledge’ at XV.11)
grasp: lambanein (LV.13; LXII.41-2; LXX.46) / dialambanein (XLVI.26). ‘Grasp cataleptically’ at
LXV.34-5 renders katalambanein, the mental state of one who has grapsed a ‘cataleptic’
(q.v.) impression.
know: epistamai / eidenai. (The two Greek words are used interchangeably for the verb
corresponding to episteme: see e.g. L.38-41; LIX.40-2.)
knowledge: epistêmê.
registered in the mind: antilêpsis (LIX.49-50)
supposition: hypolêpsis (XV.24-5)

Ethical
alienation: allotriôsis
appropriation: oikieôsis
fitting actions: kathêkonta
good natured: euphuês
good natural trait: euphuia.

Metaphysical
essence / substance: ousia. The context determines which is appropriate: ‘essence’ when the
question is what things have that makes them the things they are (e.g. knowledge at II.45);
‘substance’ when it denominates something that itself has an essence (e.g. LXVII.43 –
LXVIII.15, ad 152d2-4, where Anon. seem keen to show that Plato anticipates Aristotle’s
Categories).

Other
commentary: hypomnêmata. (Possibly not a full-blown commentary, but just ‘notes’ on part of the
work.)
skill: technê (in the commentary: although the lemmata preserve Jowett’s translation: ‘art’)

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