From the Beginning to Plato

SOCRATES AND THE BEGINNINGS OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY 305
Then if I do not think he is, I come to the assistance of the god and show
him that he is not wise.
(Apology 23a5–b7; trans. Grube.)
Here then Socrates once again contrasts his own view with that of the average
Athenian citizen. The average Athenian citizen—be he a politician, a poet, a
manual expert, or anyone else—thinks himself wise about the great things, but is
not. Such wisdom or expertise is not as easy to come by as they suppose. Socrates
lacks this wisdom as well, but he also lacks the false conceit that he has it.
Herein lies Socratic wisdom: recognition of his ignorance concerning the great
things— recognition, that is, of his lack of moral knowledge or expertise. 28
Unlike the average Athenian, Socrates does not take himself to be in the position
to give advice concerning decisions that require virtue. This is the role of a moral
expert, something that Socrates, unlike the average Athenian, realizes he is not.
But this is not the end of the story. Socrates has found in his investigation of
the oracle a mission 29 —the elenctic mission I referred to above. 30 Socrates does
not merely test an individual’s claim to moral wisdom and when he finds it
lacking abandon him. Rather, as the passage quoted above indicates, when
Socrates discovers that the individual lacks the knowledge he thinks he has,
Socrates attempts to show him that he lacks it. But why? Socrates assumes that
such moral knowledge is desirable. All of us—average Athenian and everyone—
desire to possess it. Indeed, Socrates believes that such expertise is so desirable,
that to encourage us to possess it, all Socrates needs to do is show us that we lack
it. Consider how Socrates redescribes his elenctic mission following the jury’s
hypothetical order to cease philosophizing:
Gentlemen of the jury, I am grateful and I am your friend, but I will obey
the god rather than you, and as long as I draw breath and am able, I shall
not cease to practice philosophy, to exhort you and in my usual way to
point out to any one of you whom I happen to meet: ‘Good Sir, you are an
Athenian, a citizen of the greatest city with the greatest reputation for both
wisdom and power; are you not ashamed of your eagerness to possess as
much wealth, reputation and honours as possible, while you do not care for
(epimelēi) nor give thought to wisdom or truth, or the best possible state of
your soul (phronēseōs de kai aletheias kai tēs psuchēs hopōs hōs
beltistē)?’ Then, if one of you disputes this and says he does care
(epimeleisthai), I shall not let him go at once or leave him, but I shall
question him, examine him and test him, and if I do not think that he has
attained the goodness (aretēn) that he says he has, I shall reproach him
because he attaches little importance to the most important things and
greater importance to the inferior things. I shall treat in this way anyone I
happen to meet, young or old, citizen or stranger, and more so the citizens
because you are more kindred to me. Be sure that this is what the god
orders me to do, and I think there is no greater blessing for the city than my