TώE STRAσύER’S ‘όAREWEδδ’ (2ηκ E 6-259 A 1)*
DEσIS τ’BRIEσ
‘Don’t let anyone try and tell us that we dare say of the contrary of being
that it is. We have long ago said farewell to any contrary of being, to the
question of whether it is or of whether it isn’t…’ Those are the first words
spoken by the Stranger after Theaetetus’ enthusiastic reaction (2ηκ E 4-5:
‘absolutely so’, ‘most true’) to the Stranger’s declaration (2ηκ D 5-E 3) that
he and Theaetetus have ‘dared’ speak of ‘the form that there turns out to be,
of what is not’έ
A ‘contrary of being’έ A ‘form that there turns out to be, of what is not’έ
The meaning of those two expressions, together with their difference of
meaning, lies at the very heart of Plato’s dialogue, of what the Sophist is all
about. If the meaning, with the difference in meaning, of those two
expressions has not been understood, then the dialogue itself has not been
understoodέ Such is the sorry plight of one of Plato’s most recent
commentators. That is the sorry plight that I hope to save you from in the
brief half hour that follows.
I
A ‘form that there turns out to be, of what is not’. The paradox is deliberate.
The form of ‘what is not’ is a form that ‘is’έ The paradox is aimed at
repeating, but also correcting, the contradiction in the words twice quoted
from Parmenides’ poem (23ι A 8-9, 258 D 2-3), ‘things that are not, are’
(fr. 7.1). Those words supposedly encapsulate the contradiction that we, the
‘mortals’ of Parmenides’ world, are condemned to, by our belief that all the
*
I am most grateful to the organisers for again inviting me to join them in the study of a
Platonic dialogue in the ideal surroundings of the Villa Lanna. I learnt a great deal from
our debates, and I am especially grateful to Luc Brisson for comments on a written
version of my text. If, in the following pages, my treatment of a complex subject seems
perhaps too summary, it is because I have adhered scrupulously to the injunction not to
exceed, in the main body of my text, 30,000 characters and spaces, and have therefore
kept to exactly that number.
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Denis O’Brien
many things we see around us ‘come into being and pass away, are and are
not’ (frέ 8.40-41).
The key to the paradox is to be found in the Stranger’s theory of ‘the
parts of otherness’έ τtherness is one of three forms, along with sameness
and being, that is universally participated. Whatever is, participates in being.
Whatever participates in being, participates also in sameness, since,
whatever it may be, it is ‘the same’ as itselfέ Whatever participates in being
and in sameness, participates also in otherness, since whatever is the same
as itself is also ‘other’ than anything and everything elseέ It is ‘other’ than
anything and everything that it itself is not.
Simple and straightforward though that may seem, it is not quite so
simple and so straightforward as one may think. If we believe in forms at
all, and if forms are still an essential ingredient in the way that Plato thinks,
then we may well agree, without demur, that whatever ‘is’, in order to ‘be’,
cannot but participate in the form of being. We may also agree that whatever
‘is’ anything at all, cannot but be ‘the same as itself’, so requiring the
existence of a form of sameness. But we may well wonder whether we need
a third universal form, a form of ‘otherness’έ
Might it not be that one thing is different from another, simply in virtue
of being whatever it isς A cat is not a dog, a man is not a woman… But
Plato’s Stranger is adamantέ Each and every thing, he insists (2ηη E 3-6), is
different from all others, not in virtue of its own nature, but because it
participates in the ‘idea’ of ‘otherness’έ That principle will cause Plotinus a
good deal of heart-searching when he attempts to define our relationship to
the One. But if we are not to stray too far from the text of the Sophist, we
must turn our gaze from that distant, if fascinating, horizon, and accept that,
for Plato’s Stranger, ‘otherness’, along with sameness and being, is a form
that is universally participated.
II
Even so, the reader’s instinctive reaction, that any one thing is, after all,
different from any other in virtue of its own intrinsic nature, does find a
foothold in Plato’s theory, in so far as otherness, unlike sameness and being,
is not itself undifferentiatedέ ‘Difference’ or ‘otherness’ exists only as
chopped up into parts, with as many parts as there are individual forms, so
that each individual form (beauty, justice, largeness) comes paired with its
negative counterpartέ ‘σon-beautiful’ is the part of otherness that is opposed
to beautyέ ‘σon-just’ is the part of otherness opposed to justiceέ ‘σon-large’
is the part of otherness opposed to largeness.
The Stranger’s ‘farewell’
3
There is also therefore a part of otherness that is opposed to sameness
and a part of otherness that is opposed to being. Being and sameness are
universally participated. But so too is otherness, and so too therefore are all
the parts of otherness, including the two parts that are opposed, respectively,
to being and to sameness. Whatever participates in being and in sameness—
and there is nothing that does not participate in being and in sameness—
must therefore also participate in otherness, both in relation to being and in
relation to sameness.
The result is paradoxical, but inescapable. Whatever you like to think of
(the Stranger takes as his example ‘movement’, 256 A 10-B 4) is both ‘the
same’, since it participates in sameness, and ‘not the same’, since it
participates in otherness in relation to sameness.1
III
Modern commentators are often all to quick in wanting to draw out from
Plato’s text distinctions that the author can never have intended. But here the
lesson to be drawn is obvious enoughέ In asserting that movement ‘is not’
the same, we assert a lack of identity, not a lack of participation. Movement
‘is the same’ in so far as it participates in sameness, ‘is not the same’ in so
far as, participating in otherness in relation to sameness, it is not identical to
sameness.
We may even take a step further. In the case of forms that are not
universally participated, we presumably have to distinguish two senses of ‘is
not’μ ‘is not’ as lack of identity and ‘is not’ as lack of participationέ Beauty,
for exampleέ Whatever participates in beauty, ‘is beautiful’, in virtue of its
participation in beauty, ‘is not beautiful’ in so far as, participating in
otherness in relation to beauty, it is not identical to beauty. Whatever does
not participate in beauty, ‘is not beautiful’, both because it does not
participate in beauty and because it is not identical to beauty.
But that double use of ‘is not’ is possible only when the form in question
is not universally participatedέ There can be no ‘is not’, meaning lack of
participation, for a form that is universally participated, as is the case for
sameness, and as is also the case for beingέ ‘Is not’, in relation to being, as
in relation to sameness, can mean only lack of identity, and not lack of
participation.
So it is, even for the part of otherness that is opposed to being, and that is
therefore the form of non-beingέ ‘τtherness’ participates in being—
όor further brief comments on the Stranger’s theory of the ‘parts’ of otherness, see
the Additional Notes at the end of this article.
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Denis O’Brien
otherwise there would be no ‘otherness’έ So also do all the ‘parts’ of
otherness, including that very part of otherness that is opposed to being, and
that is therefore the form of non-being.
So it is that we arrive at the Stranger’s paradoxical definition of a ‘form
that there turns out to be, of what is not’ (2ηκ D 6-7). The form of what is
not, the form of non-being, is the part of otherness that is opposed to being,
and that is therefore as much entitled to be called ‘non-being’ as the part of
otherness that is opposed to beauty is entitled to be called ‘non-beautiful’έ
But beauty is not universally participated. The part of otherness opposed
to beauty is ‘non-beautiful’, but it is not, at the same time, beautifulέ σot so
the form of non-being. The part of otherness that is opposed to being and
that is therefore ‘non-being’ cannot but, at the same time, participate in
being, otherwise it would not ‘be’ a part of otherness at allέ That is why
there ‘turns out to be a form that is, of what is not’έ A form that ‘is’, since it
participates in being—how could it not?—and yet, at the same time, a form
of ‘what is not’, since what it is, is a part of otherness, that very part of
otherness that is opposed to being.
IV
I don’t know what you think of that little conundrumέ Theaetetus is ecstatic.
‘Absolutely so’ (2ηκ E 4-5: πα πα ί γ ), ‘most true’ (ἀ
α α). The
boy’s enthusiasm is roused by the Stranger’s apparently having solved the
problem posed by Parmenides, or more precisely by the problematical use to
which the Stranger has put Parmenides’ verses, which would make it
impossible to say, of ‘things that are not’, that they ‘are’, impossible
therefore to lie, and impossible, therefore, to define the Sophist as a liar.
But before we share the young boy’s enthusiasm, we need to balance the
Stranger’s discovery of ‘the form that there turns out to be, of what is not’
with the disclaimer that follows immediately on its footstepsέ The ‘form of
non-being’ is not a ‘contrary’ of being. What is, or what would be, a
‘contrary’ of beingς
Contrariety first raises its head when, after listing being, sameness and
otherness, the Stranger introduces the two remaining items in his list of
‘very great gene’έ These are movement and rest, said to be ‘most contrary’
to each other (250 A 8-9: ἐ α
α α). Whether as cause or as consequence
of their extreme contrariety, the Stranger insists on the impossibility of
either form ‘mingling’ with the other (2η4 D 7-8).
It is true that modern commentators have done their learned best to
whittle away that wholly unambiguous assertion, none less so than Gregory
The Stranger’s ‘farewell’
5
Vlastos, with his once fashionable theory of ‘Pauline predication’έ2 ‘Charity
is patient’ means only that ‘charitable people are patient’έ ‘εovement does
not mingle with rest’ and ‘rest does not mingle with movement’, if the
predication is Pauline, therefore means only that things that are moving are
not at rest, and that things at rest are not in movement. For unless
movement, the form, were at rest, how could it ever be a form, an
unchanging object of knowledge and the sole source of certainty?
Vlastos’ analogy, though faithfully repeated as a ύospel truth in many
modern studies of Plato, is plainly defective. The example of ‘charity’, taken
from Paul’s First Epistle to the Corinthians (13.4-8), does not at all mean
what Vlastos would have it meanέ ‘Charity is patient’ may indeed mean that
charitable people are patient, but can hardly be taken to imply that charity
itself is not patient. And yet that would be the analogue required if the
Stranger’s meaning were to be that whatever participates in movement is not
at rest, but that movement itself is at rest.
εore troubling still, if the Stranger’s emphatic statement that movement
and rest ‘do not mingle with each other’ (2η4 D 7-8) is to imply, or even
simply leave open the possibility, that movement itself does mingle with
(‘participates in’) rest, then why should the same dictum not imply, or leave
open the possibility, that rest participates in movement—and in that case,
with Vlastos’ criterion, how could ‘rest’ be a formς
I am not sure what criteria are required, in the Sophist, for being a ‘form’
or a ‘kind’ (I am not even quite sure what criteria are required for being a
form in the Phaedo), but if the Stranger says, firmly and clearly, that
movement and rest are ‘most contrary’ (2η0 A 8-λ) and ‘do not mingle with
each other’ (2η4 D 7-8), then I believe him, and even draw the conclusion
that being physically at rest, and therefore not moving from place to place, is
no longer a part, if ever it was a part, of what it is to be a form.
V
From the example of movement and rest, I even draw the tentative
conclusion that lack of participation is in general, as it is for movement and
rest, a necessary condition of contrariety. A necessary, but not a sufficient
condition, as is made clear by the next appearance of ‘contrariety’ in the
Stranger’s argumentέ
What is ‘not large’, so the Stranger and Theaetetus agree (2ηι B 3-C 4),
may refer either to what is equal or to what is small; it does not refer to
‘what is small’ in preference to ‘what is equal’έ This time, lest we readers of
2
Vlastos, 1971, 270-308 (chapter 11).
Denis O’Brien
6
the dialogue might perhaps not have grasped the point, the Stranger himself
spells out the conclusion to be drawnέ ‘σegation’ does not, of itself,
designate contrarietyέ σegation is explained by ‘otherness’μ what is ‘other
than’ something ‘is not’ that thing, whether or not it is to be counted as the
contrary of whatever it is that it ‘is not’έ
Once again, modern commentators lead you up the garden path, even
when Plato must surely have thought that he had made his meaning
unmistakably clear. This time it is Gwil Owen who has missed the point.
‘The equal’, so τwen assures us, his hand on his heart, is here thought of as
participating in both largeness and smallness, ‘having in it something, in a
broad sense some proportion, of both large and small’έ3 In making that
point, Owen has not only given the expression ὸ ἴ ο a meaning not attested
in any dictionary; he shows that he has wholly misunderstood the Stranger’s
purpose.
τwen apparently thinks that, although what is equal is ‘not large’, and is
indeed quoted as an example of ‘negation’ (cfέ 2ηι B 9: ἀπ φα ),
nonetheless it still has to be—well just a little bit ‘large’έ But noμ the
Stranger’s point is not at all what τwen takes it to beέ ‘Equal’ is not at all
large. Of course, two things may be larger than something else. They may
also be smaller than something else. But that is not the point. One thing, if
equal to another, cannot be larger or smaller than that same thing, since in
that case it would be, at one and the same time, both ‘equal’ and ‘not equal’,
contrary to what Aristotle calls ‘the firmest principle of all’, the principle of
contradiction.4
The Stranger’s point is that ‘small’ and ‘equal’ are both ‘not large’, in
that neither has any share in largeness. Something cannot be, at one and the
same time, both large and small in relation to the same thing, nor can
anything be, at the same time, both large and equal in relation to the same
thingέ But although those two things (‘the small’ and ‘the equal’) are, each
of them, ‘not large’, only one of them (‘the small’) is the contrary of largeέ
Hence my point that lack of participation is a necessary, but not a
sufficient condition of contrariety. Lack of participation is a necessary
condition of contrariety: if the small is to be the contrary of large, then it
must be ‘not large’ν it cannot be, at one and the same time, large and the
contrary of large. But lack of participation, as expressed by a simple
negation, is not a sufficient condition of contrarietyμ for the equal is also ‘not
large’, without therefore being the contrary of largeέ
3
Owen, 1971, 235-236.
4
Aristotle, Metaph. Γ 3, 1005 b 17-18.
The Stranger’s ‘farewell’
7
VI
We have therefore to distinguish between those two uses of the negation:
negation marking simple lack of participation (‘not large’ as applied to
equal), and negation accompanying contrariety (‘not large’ as applied to
small)έ That distinction is in addition to the Stranger’s earlier distinction
(§ III above) between lack of identity and lack of participation.
‘σot large’ must, at the very least, indicate lack of identityέ Even what is
large, since it participates in largeness, must be, in this primitive sense, ‘not
large’ in so far as it is not identical to largenessέ ‘σot large’ may also
indicate lack of participationμ ‘the equal’ is not large because it cannot be
‘equal’ and at the same time participate in largenessέ Thirdly and lastly, ‘not
large’ may indicate contrarietyμ ‘the small’ is not identical to largeness, it
does not participate in largeness, and it is the contrary of largeness.
A hierarchy of negations therefore: negation as lack of identity, negation
as lack of participation, and finally negation as a necessary condition of
contrariety. Contrariety supposes lack of participation and lack of identity.
Lack of identity is common to participation and to lack of participation.
VII
That is the minimal intellectual baggage needed, and supplied by the
Stranger, for making sense of his remark relating to a ‘contrary’ of beingέ
Contrariety requires both lack of identity and lack of participation. But what
is there—what could there be—that meets that criterion for contrariety in
relation to being?
Absolutely nothing. And when I say nothing, I mean nothing. Just sheer
nothing. For whatever something is, whatever it might be, or even whatever
it might not be, it does, at the very least have to be, and in order to ‘be’, in
the Stranger’s world, it has to participate in beingέ5 Whatever does not
participate in being is… no, that sentence cannot be completedέ There ‘is
not’, and there cannot ‘be’, anything that does not participate in beingέ That
is why there cannot be a contrary of being.
Contrariety excludes participation: lack of participation is a necessary—
not a sufficient, but a necessary—condition of contrariety. And that
See esp. Soph. 256 A 1-2μ Theaetetus agrees without hesitation to the Stranger’s
assertion that movement ‘is’ because of its participation in ‘being’έ όrede, 1λθι, ηη-59,
is wholly and obviously wrong in wanting to assimilate this use of ‘is’ (2ηθ A 1: ἔ ) to
a copulative use of the verbέ In asserting that movement ‘is’ because it participates in
‘being’, the Stranger asserts nothing less, and nothing more, than that it ‘is’έ An
‘existential’ use of the verb if ever there was one.
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Denis O’Brien
condition cannot be met by anything at all, because, for anything at all to be
anything at all, it would have to participate in being, and would then, no
longer (as it were), be a contrary of beingέ ‘Being’ has no contrary. There is
no contrary of being.
That is why ‘the form of non-being’, although one of a long list of
negative forms (‘non-beautiful’, ‘non-just’, ‘non-large’), is a special caseέ
The part of otherness opposed to beauty is the negative form ‘non-beautiful’έ
Whatever is not beautiful participates in the negative form non-beautiful,
whether because it is not identical to beauty or because, as well as not being
identical to beauty, it does not participate in beauty. If it does not participate
in beauty, it may be the contrary of beauty (what is ‘ugly’ therefore), since it
fulfils the necessary condition of contrariety which is lack of participation.
But that is not possible when the negative form is the form of non-being.
The negative form, the part of otherness that is opposed to being, does itself
participate in being, and cannot therefore be the contrary of being.
VIII
The same truth will perhaps more easily be seen if we go at it the other way
roundέ The part of otherness opposed to ‘beauty’ or to ‘largeness’ does not
participate in the form to which it is opposedέ The negation ‘not beautiful’
or ‘not large’ does not therefore exclude contrarietyέ Were the part of
otherness that is opposed to beauty or to largeness to participate in beauty or
in largeness, then the negation would exclude contrarietyέ What was ‘not
beautiful’ could not then be the contrary of beautifulέ What was ‘not large’
could not then be the contrary of large. There would then be nothing that is
ugly, nor anything that is small.
Of course that is not so. There is a contrary of beauty, what is ugly, and
there is a contrary of large, what is small. But the existence of a contrary is
possible only because, in either case, the negative form does not participate
in the form to which it is opposed. The negative form ‘non-beautiful’, in
being opposed to beauty, does not participate in beauty. The negative form
‘non-large’, in being opposed to largeness, does not participate in largenessέ
But what is not true of beauty and largeness is true of being. The very
part of otherness that is opposed to being does participate in being.
Therefore the negation does exclude contrariety. There can be, there is, a
contrary of beauty (what is ugly) and of large (what is small). There is no
The Stranger’s ‘farewell’
9
contrary of being. The negation (non-being) excludes identity. It does not
exclude participation, and it cannot therefore include contrariety.6
IX
We can now well see why the Stranger, immediately after announcing,
triumphantly, his discovery of ‘the form that there turns out to be, of what is
not’, should go on to add the inevitable disclaimer that his newly discovered
form of non-being is not the contrary of being. It is not the contrary of being
precisely because it participates in being—it is ‘a form that is, of what is
not’—and because participation excludes contrariety.
But what quite does the Stranger mean when he says that he and
Theaetetus have ‘long ago’ said ‘good-bye’ to any contrary of beingς όor
those who have ears to hear, the reference rings loud and clear. Earlier in the
dialogue, the Stranger had asked Theaetetus whether we dare to speak of
‘what is not in any way at all’ (23ι B 7-8: ὸ
α ῶ ὄ ). At first
Theaetetus replies with a guileless ‘Why on earth notς’ (23ι B 9: πῶ γὰ
οὔν) But he is soon brought to see that no, that we cannot even utter the
words ‘what is not in any way at all’, nor the equivalent form of words
‘what is not, in and by itself’ (23κ C 9: ὸ ὴ ὂ α ὸ α ᾿ α ), without
contradiction, since the very fact of using a singular expression, as opposed
to a dual or a plural, would appear to imply that ‘number’, which
Theaetetus, the budding mathematician, is only too happy to include among
‘what is’, has to be attached to ‘what is not’—to what is not ‘in any way at
all’ (cfέ 23ι B 10-239 C 8).
The ramifications of that discussion are what the Stranger alludes to
when he says that he and Theaetetus, after the long and complex analysis of
the ‘very great kinds’, have ‘long since bid farewell’ to a contrary of being,
to the question ‘whether it is or whether it isn’t’έ Just as there is no nonbeing ‘in and by itself’, nothing that ‘is not in any way at all’, so too there
can be no contrary of beingέ A ‘contrary’ of being would be whatever did
not participate in beingέ But there isn’t anything that doesn’t participate in
beingέ What is ‘not in any way at all’… is not ‘in any way at all’έ
6
Frede, 1967, 85-89, gets into a great tangle at this point in his attempted
reconstruction of the Stranger’s argumentέ ώe supposes that, if the form of ‘nonbeautiful’ does not participate in beauty, it is because it is opposed, not to the form
itself, but to whatever has the form for predicate. The text tells against him, and so does
the logic of the argument. See the Additional Notes at the end of this article.
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X
τnly in the light of that distinction can we see the reason for Theaetetus’
enthusiastic acceptance of the Stranger’s definition of a form of non-being.
What had seemingly called a halt to the hunt for a definition of the Sophist
had been Parmenides’ condemnation of ‘the opinions of mortals’, as
expressed in the verses ‘things that are not, are’ (frέ 7.1-2)έ ‘Things that are
not, are’ is the outlandish proposition Parmenides claims that ‘mortals’ are
committed to if they believe in the world perceived by the senses, if they
believe in the ‘being’ and the ‘non-being’ of all the many things that we
think to feel and see around us, in all the things therefore that we think we
see ‘coming into being’, passing therefore from non-being to being, and
‘passing away’, passing therefore from being to non-being.
The resulting proposition, ‘things that are not, are’, is, for Parmenides, a
contradiction, a contradiction arising from mortals’ failing to recognise the
incompatibility of the two Ways, as defined by his mentor the goddess, in
the opening verses of her speech (fr. 2)έ The first Way statesμ ‘is’ and ‘it is
not possible not to be’έ The second Way statesμ ‘is not’ and ‘it is necessary
not to be’έ That the two Ways are incompatible is clearly demonstrated by
the modal accompanimentsμ ‘it is not possible not to be’, ‘it is necessary not
to be’έ If it is necessary not to be, then it is impossible to be: the second
Way therefore excludes the first. If it is impossible not to be, then it is
necessary to be: the first Way therefore excludes the second.7
By declaring of ‘things that are not’ that they ‘are’, mortals have failed to
recognise that radical incompatibility. They therefore take a subject drawn
from the second Way, ‘things that are not’, and think to join it with the verb
of the first Way, so arriving at the contradictionμ ‘things that are not, areέ’
The significance of that form of words, in the context of the Sophist, is
that it is the form of words conventionally used to define a falsehood. To tell
the truth is to say of things that are, that they are, of things that are not, that
they are not. To say of things that are, that they are not, or (as in
Parmenides’ poem) of things that are not, that they are, is therefore to say
what is not true.8 But since Parmenides has shown that we cannot ‘know’,
nor even ‘point out’ to others, ‘what is not’ (frέ 2.7-8), then how can it be
possible to lie, and how can the Sophist be defined as a liar?
7
I leave you to wrestle with those two modal conjunctions if you are not already
familiar with themέ I have dealt with them extensively elsewhereέ See τ’Brien, 1λκι,
278-302.
8 Compare the Stranger’s definition of falsehood (240 E 10-241 A 1) with the
definition of truth in Xenophon, Anabasis iv 4έ1ηέ όor details, see τ’Brien, 2000, κ2-89.
The Stranger’s ‘farewell’
11
XI
The Stranger’s initial answer to that question lies in his distinction between
the form of non-being and an impossible contrary of being. It is true that we
cannot say, of the contrary of being, that it ‘is’, for the contrary of being is
precisely what ‘is not in any way at all’, whatever—impossibly—has no
participation in being, and is therefore not even a ‘whatever’έ
But not so the form of non-being. Non-being as a form indicates lack of
identity, not lack of participation. It is perfectly true to say of all the things
that we see and feel around us that they are ‘non-beings’ if our meaning is
that, although they participate in being, they are not therefore identical to
being, if therefore our meaning is that, although participating in being, they
participate also in otherness in relation to being.
The same things may therefore quite properly be said ‘to be’, since they
participate in being, and ‘not to be’, since they are not identical to beingέ To
say, of ‘things that are not’, that they ‘are’, is therefore a perfectly proper
way of speaking, provided only that we distinguish a simple negation of
being, necessarily true of whatever participates in being, from an impossible
contrary of being, impossible simply because there is no contrary to being,
since contrariety requires lack of participation and there ‘is’ nothing that
does not participate in being—how could there be, since to ‘be’ is to
participate in being?
XII
Dare I now unveil to you the latest misunderstanding of Plato’s textς ‘Plato
deliberately leaves open the question about the being of what in no way isέ’9
That is precisely what the Stranger does not leave open. The author of the
words I have quoted has hopelessly misunderstood the Stranger’s ‘farewell’έ
Listen again to what the Stranger says, so joyfully and so light-heartedly,
following his thrilling discovery of the form of non-being (258 E 6-259 A 1):
Do not let anyone tell us therefore that we declare that what is not is the
contrary of being, and that we dare say of that, that it is. As far as any
contrary of being goes, we have long ago said good-bye to any question of its
being or of its not being, of its having a logos or indeed of its being altogether
without a logos…
σotomi, 200ι, 1κ4 (the author’s own italics)έ σotomi’s ‘what in no way is’ is his
translation of ὸ
α ῶ ὄ (237 B 7-κ), translated in this article as ‘what is not in any
way at all’έ όor σotomi’s study, see the warning note attached to the Bibliography.
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In uttering those words, the Stranger does not for one moment mean to
‘leave open’ the possibility that what is not in any way at all might
nonetheless, just possibly, if only a very little bit, ‘be’έ The whole point and
purpose of his argument is to establish an impassable gulf between the form
of non-being, ‘a form which is’, since it participates in being, and the
impossible ‘contrary’ of being which, if there were to be such a contrary,
would be what does not participate in being at all.
What does not participate in being at all cannot but ‘be’—sit venia
verbo—what both the Stranger and Theaetetus had earlier agreed could not
be spoken of, nor thought ofμ ‘non-being, in and by itself’, ‘what is not in
any way at all’έ To claim that the Stranger’s contrary of being might
somehow, nonetheless, just possibly, ‘be’, is therefore to collapse the very
distinction that the Stranger’s whole analysis has been designed to establishέ
To misunderstand that distinction is, at I said at the beginning of my talk, to
misunderstand the whole point and purpose of the Sophist.
XIII
It is precisely because of that distinction that the Stranger and Theaetetus are
able to say good-bye to—with something of the double-entendre of our
colloquial expression ‘to see off’—the troubles and tangles arising from
Theaetetus’ thoughtless assumption (23ι B 7-9) that yes, of course we can
speak of ‘what is not in any way at all’—‘Why on earth notς’ It is because
of that distinction that there is now no longer any need, as so very obviously
there had been before, to agonise over whether we can say of ‘what is not’,
that it ‘is’ or that it ‘isn’t’, over whether ‘what is not’ has a logos or is
altogether without a logos.
It is in the light of that same distinction that we are able to understand the
subtlety of Plato’s relationship to Parmenidesέ When the Stranger brings
Theaetetus to see that we cannot speak or think of ‘what is not in any way at
all’, of ‘non-being, in and by itself’, he is not out to contradict Parmenidesέ
How could he be? Parmenides was already convinced that what is not, what
‘necessarily’ is not (cfέ frέ 2έη), cannot be ‘spoken of’ nor even ‘thought of’
(fr. 8.7-9).
The Stranger’s task is both more delicate and more deviousέ ώe has to
undo Parmenides’ assumption that the non-being of the second Way covers
all and any non-being, his assumption that if we say—as the mortals of
Parmenides’ poem are made to say—that ‘things that are not, are’, then we
are necessarily uttering a contradiction.
Were the non-being implied in the opinions of mortals to be a contrary of
being, then their proposition would indeed be contradictory, since they
The Stranger’s ‘farewell’
13
would be saying, at one and the same time, of things that do not participate
in being, that they do participate in being. It is to undo that assumption that
the Stranger introduces a distinction between non-being as negation and
non-being as an impossible contrary of being.
XIV
But please note: to introduce a distinction where your opponent has seen
none is not to persuade him that he has seen only one arm of the distinction
and not seen the otherέ σoμ the point is that he has not seen the distinction…
To bring to light the subtlety of the Sophist, it is not enough therefore to
say that Parmenides’ non-being is a contrary of being and that the Stranger’s
non-being is a negation, but not the contrary, of being. No: the point is that
Parmenides has an undistributed conception of non-being, a non-being that
does not allow for a distinction between negation and contrariety. It is true
enough, of non-being as a contrary of being, that it cannot be spoken of, nor
even thought of. But from that it does not follow that we cannot say, of
‘things that are not’, that they ‘are’, provided that our use of the negation
does not imply contrariety.
But try to make that point to someone who has himself not grasped the
Stranger’s distinction between negation and contrariety, and who therefore
insists that what is not in any way at all might, even so, nonetheless,
somehow ‘be’—let me warn you, you will be simply wasting your breath.
ADDITIONAL NOTES
The ‘Parts’ of τtherness
The Stranger’s theory of ‘parts’ of otherness is frequently misunderstoodέ
‘Partition’ is not the same as ‘participation’έ When being is instantiated as
‘the being of each thing’ (cfέ 2ηκ E 2), the form is not therefore divided into
so many ‘parts’ of being, nor therefore do all the many things that
participate in otherness constitute so many ‘parts’ of othernessέ The point is
that otherness itself, unlike being and unlike sameness, exists only as
divided into ‘parts’, with each ‘part’ differentiated by its opposition to a
specific form.10
‘The being of each thing’μ for the reading at Soph. 258 E 2, see τ’Brien, 1λλ1bέ The
variant, ‘each being’, recorded by Simplicius (Phys. 238.26) and adopted in successive
Oxford editions of the text, by Burnet, 1900 and 1905, and by Duke et alii, 1995, is no
more than a Neoplatonic adaptation, designed to feed back into the text of Plato the
10
14
Denis O’Brien
This procedure does not entail what Nicholas Denyer calls a
‘conjunctive’ theory of relations, whereby the existence of a relationship
would be established independently of the term of the relationship.11
‘τtherness’, with Denyer’s reading of the Stranger’s theory, would exist
independently of whatever it may be that it is ‘other than’έ That is exactly
the conception of ‘otherness’ excluded by the Stranger’s account of the
‘parts’ of othernessέ There is no otherness that is not a ‘part’ of otherness,
nor any ‘part’ of otherness that is not ‘other than’ a specific formέ
A different misunderstanding arises when Michael Frede claims that the
negation implied by the form of otherness derives from opposition, not to
the form of beauty, but to whatever participates in beauty.12 The wording of
the text tells against himέ ‘The nature of the beautiful’, describing the
second term of the opposition (257 D 10-11: ῆ οῦ α οῦ φ ω ), is
followed in quick succession by ‘the nature of otherness’ (2ηκ A 7-8: ἡ
α ου φ
) and by ‘the nature of being’ (2ηκ A 11-B 1: ῆ οῦ ὄ ο [sc.
φ ω ]), both expressions referring to the form.
The repetition of the same expression (‘the nature of…’), in the same
tightly worded and tightly argued context (257 C 5-258 E ημ the Stranger’s
account of his new theory of the ‘parts’ of otherness), can hardly not have
the same meaningέ The ‘part’ of otherness (2ηι D 7 and 258 A 11) that is
opposed to ‘the nature of the beautiful’ and to ‘the nature of being’ will, in
either case, be opposed to the form, whether the form of beauty, for the
definition of ‘non-beautiful’ (2ηι D 10-11), or the form of being, for the
definition of ‘non-being’ (2ηκ A 11-B 4) .
The difference between ‘being’ and ‘beauty’, in this whole stretch of
argument (257 C 5-258 E 5), will lie, not in the choice of a different term to
express what it is that is negated (form as opposed to whatever has the form
for predicate), but in the point that ‘being’, like sameness, but unlike
‘beauty’, is universally participatedέ ‘σon-beautiful’, in being opposed to the
form of beauty, does not participate in beautyέ ‘σon-being’, although
opposed to the form of being, cannot but participate in being. That
distinction gives the Stranger the conclusion his argument requires. There
can be, and there is, a contrary to beauty, but there can be no contrary to
definition of non-being required by Plotinus for his identification of the ‘non-being’ of
the Sophist with the ‘receptacle’ of the Timaeus. See the concluding paragraphs of these
σotes and, for more detail, τ’Brien, 200λa, 302-30ιέ The supposed reference to a ‘part’
of being at 258 A 11-B 4 (the Stranger’s first definition of a form of non-being) is based
on a misunderstanding of the syntax of the sentenceέ See τ’Brien, 200λb, θ4-67.
11 Denyer, 1991, 139-145.
12
Frede, 1967, 85-89. See above § VIII.
The Stranger’s ‘farewell’
15
being. Contrariety excludes participation (see § VII above), and
participation excludes contrariety.
Frede and Denyer are not of course alone in failing to steer their way
through the detail of the dialogue. Current literature on the Sophist is awash
with the wreckage of failed innovation. But even apart from all the many
errors bearing on the detail of the text and the argument, misunderstanding,
as often as not, arises simply from commentators attempting to make the
theory of ‘parts’ of otherness do more than it was ever intended to do, and
therefore thinking to find in the Stranger’s theory his ‘answer’ to the
problem of the false logos.
This is far too simple a view of the matter. The distinction between
negation and contrariety establishes that whatever participates in being, and
therefore ‘is’, participates also in otherness in relation to being, and
therefore ‘is not’ (cfέ § XI above)έ It is therefore a necessary truth that ‘what
is not’, construed not as the contrary of being, but as a simple negation of
being, ‘is’, and that ‘things that are not’, a pluralised version of the same
words, therefore ‘are’έ To establish that same form of words as a paradigm
of the logos that is false, and therefore to be able to define the Sophist as a
purveyor of falsehood, will require a wholly new argument.
Before the Sophist can be successfully run to ground, the Stranger’s
second quotation of the controversial verses from Parmenides’ poem
(258 D 2-3, fr. 7.1-2μ ‘things that are not, are’), accompanying his
triumphant definition of a ‘form that is, of what is not’ (cfέ 2ηκ D 5-E 3),
will therefore have to be followed by a stretch of dialogue, with ideas and
distinctions significantly different from what has gone before. But to
attempt to give even an outline of the new use that will be made of
‘otherness’, and of the relationship between ‘otherness’ and contrariety, in
these later pages of the dialogue (259 D 9-264 B 8), lies beyond the scope of
the present essay, and well beyond the scope of these Additional Notes.13
A more general difficulty may be treated more briefly. We may think to
object that ‘sameness’, no less than ‘otherness’, should be divided into
‘parts’έ Both terms are essentially relativeέ ‘τther’ implies ‘other than…’
‘The same’ implies ‘the same as…’ Since that implication leads to a theory
of ‘parts of otherness’, why does the same implication not lead to a theory of
‘parts of sameness’ς The answer, I would suggest, lies in the difference
between what I may perhaps call an ‘intrinsic’ relationship, for ‘sameness’,
and an ‘extrinsic’ relationship, for ‘otherness’έ
When ‘sameness’ is used, as it is in the Sophist, as a criterion of identity,
for example in the sentence ‘I am the same as myself’, the term of the
Readers who want to know more will have to tackle τ’Brien, 1λλη, ι2-88 (in
French, but with a generous résumé in English).
13
16
Denis O’Brien
relationship is no different from the subject of the sentence. So conceived,
participation in ‘sameness’ does not require a reference to anything other
than the subject of the relationship (in the example quoted, the person
speaking) and the relationship itself (in the context of the Sophist, the ‘form’
of sameness)έ Participation in ‘sameness’ is not therefore conceived as
impinging on the unity of the form, any more than participation in ‘being’
impinges on the unity of ‘being’έ
σot so ‘otherness’, which has to be completed by the addition of a
second term to the relationship, for exampleμ ‘I am other than youέ’ The
additional item (the person spoken to, in the example quoted), by specifying
the term to which ‘otherness’ is opposed, is an indispensable component of
the meaning of the form, a component different by definition from the
subject of the sentence, but also differing from whatever other items qualify
as a second term to the relationship.
In face of the conflicting claims of the countless objects called upon to
establish, by their ‘otherness’, the separate identity of the subject of the
sentence, the form, so we may well think to conclude, is unable to maintain
its unity, and finds itself therefore, unlike ‘sameness’ and unlike ‘being’,
divided into however many ‘parts’ are needed to match the countless
possible oppositions (‘… other than x’, ‘… other than y’), required to satisfy
whatever item participates in the form. All the countless objects called upon
to complete the meaning of otherness, by specifying the second term of the
relationship, as it were feed back their multiplicity into the very form itself,
leading therefore to a partition of the form, divided into as many ‘parts’ as
there are objects to which it is opposed.
Construed in this fashion, the countless forms that specify the nature of
otherness in relation to any one of their number never include the form that
is the subject of the sentence, since no form participates in otherness in
relation to itself. Beauty cannot participate in otherness in relation to beauty.
Being cannot participate in otherness in relation to being.
However blazingly obvious it may seem when stated abstractly, that
principle has not been grasped by commentators who all unthinkingly
assume that being itself is a ‘non-being’έ Being, the form, ‘is not’ all the
numberless objects that participate in being (257 A 4-6), and that constitute
therefore, in so far as they are not identical to being, so many ‘non-beings’
(cf. 256 E 5-θ)έ But being is not therefore itself a ‘non-being’έ όor being
itself to qualify as a ‘non-being’, it would have to participate in otherness in
relation to being, and in that impossible circumstance it would no longer be,
as it is, ‘one thing, itself’ (2ηι A 5).14
όor ‘being’ itself wrongly taken to be ‘non-being’, see, for example, τwen, 1λι1,
233 n. 20έ τwen’s throw-away remark at the end of his note shows clearly that he has
14
The Stranger’s ‘farewell’
17
The relationships the Stranger has established, of ‘being’ and ‘other’, and
therefore of ‘non-being’ as a ‘part’ of otherness, however tightly
circumscribed, will not be the last word on the matter. Those same concepts
will be radically revised when Plato’s ideas are taken over, many centuries
later, as the starting-point for a major fresh development in the history of
Greek thought. Hence my glancing reference to Plotinus (§ I above),
intended as no more than the briefest of brief reminders that the philosophy
of the Enneads is the philosophical horizon of much that is said, and of
much that is not said, in the Sophist—even though it is a horizon to which
commentators of Plato’s dialogue who live and move and have their being in
the charmed circle of the ancient universities of England rarely raise their
eyes, and are unable to see anything of any significance even when they do.
The distinction between ‘non-being’ and ‘non-existent’, outlined in the
preceding pages of this article, is an essential feature of Plotinus’ elaborate
theory of matter and of the soul’s relation to matter in the sensible world, but
with the difference that the theory of ‘parts’ of otherness has been radically
revised, so as to yield a definition of ‘non-being’ as no longer the ‘part’ of
otherness opposed to ‘the being of each thing’ (cfέ 2ηκ E 2-3), but as the
‘part’ of otherness opposed to ‘the beings properly so-called’, and therefore
to all the forms (Enn. II 4 [12] 16.1-3).
So defined, the ‘non-being’ that is ‘matter’ is able to take on the role of
the ‘receptacle’ in the Timaeus, ready to receive, in so far as it is able to do
so, any and every positive determination precisely because it has no positive
determination of its own. But although matter, in this new and more radical
sense, is ‘non-being’, it is still a ‘part’ of otherness and is therefore still not
‘utter non-being’έ It is not non-existent.15
Conversely, ‘otherness’, as defined in the Sophist, is altogether excluded
from Plotinus’ conception of a transcendent first principle, with the result
that Plotinus’ τne, unlike the Stranger’s form of ‘being’ (cfέ 2ηι A 1-7), is
not ‘other’ than anything and everything elseέ The τne, if ‘being’ entails, as
it does in the Sophist, participation in both sameness and otherness, is
therefore not a ‘being’, with the further paradoxical conclusion, essential to
Plotinus’ whole concept of emanation, that the relationship of ‘otherness’ is
not reciprocalέ All the many things that issue from the τne are ‘other’ than
not thought the matter through. No more has Job van Eck, whose attempted disproof of
an earlier statement of my thesis turns very largely on this same error (2002, 66 and 70:
‘being itself is made not-being’)έ Van Eck’s error is compounded by his not infrequent
mistranslations of the Greek and by his limited knowledge of French. See the warning
note in the Bibliography.
15 For details, see τ’Brien, 1λλ1a and 200ηέ όor the distinction between ‘non-being’
( ὴ ὄ ), and ‘utter non-being’ ( ὸ πα
ὲ ὴ ὄ ), see Enn. VI 9 [9] 11.35-3κέ The ‘evil’
referred to in these lines is matter.
18
Denis O’Brien
the One. But the One itself does not participate in ‘otherness’ in relation to
all the many things that have their origin in the One.16
ώence what I referred to as Plotinus’ ‘heart-searching’ when he looks to
describe the state of the soul that returns to, and is united with, the One. Is
the soul, when united to the τne, ‘other’ than the τneς If she is not ‘other’
than the One, does she therefore, when she returns to the One, cease to be
herself?17
Bibliography
Burnet, J. 1900. Platonis Opera (ed.), tomus i, 1st edn. Oxford: Clarendon
Press.
Burnet, J. 1905. Platonis Opera (ed.), tomus i, 2nd edn. Oxford: Clarendon
Press.
Denyer, N. 1991. Language, Thought and Falsehood in Ancient Greek
Philosophy. London and New York: Routledge.
Duke, E. A., et alii. 1995. Platonis Opera (ed.), tomus i. Oxford: Clarendon
Press.
Frede, M. 1967. Prädikation und Existenzaussage, Platons Gebrauch von
„…ist…“ und „…ist nicht…“ im Sophistes. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck &
Ruprecht.
σotomi, σέ 200ιέ ‘Plato Against Parmenidesμ Sophist 236D-242B’, in
S. Stern-Gillet, K. Corrigan (ed.), Reading Ancient Texts, vol. i,
Presocratics and Plato. Leiden, Boston: E. J. Brill, 167-187.18
όor details, see τ’Brien, 1λλ3 and 1λλη (Étude I).
όor part of the answer, see the concluding pages of a forthcoming article (‘δe σonÊtre et l’Altéritéμ Plotin et ses Prédécesseurs’)έ The blimpish historian of philosophy (a
familiar figure of my youth, and one I still occasionally come across) who finds the
preceding four paragraphs so much gobbledygook is wholly, and tragically, wrong.
18 I should perhaps warn potential readers of this item that the author is as unreliable
on questions of modern doxography as he is when he asserts that Plato’s Stranger makes
allowance for the possible existence of what is explicitly said not to be ‘in any way at
all’ (see § XII above). In the course of his argument, Notomi attributes to an Aunt Sally
that he graces with my name statements that are nowhere to be found in anything I have
written and that do not represent anything that I have ever said or even thought. I
nowhere translate πο
α (237 A 3) as ‘claim’ or ‘declare’, as σotomi wrongly claims
I do (p. 172 n. 14)έ I nowhere identify ‘non-being’ with falsehood, as Notomi wrongly
claims I do (p. 172 n. 1η)έ I nowhere take the simple utterance ‘things that are not’ ( ὴ
ἐ α) as a sufficient indication of the opinions of mortals, as Notomi wrongly claims I
do (p. 173 n. 16). Notomi has yet to learn the first lesson of a fledgling controversialist:
never attribute to your chosen adversary things that he has not said. You can hardly
expect your criticisms to be taken seriously if you do. Oh, and if you possibly can, when
attempting to criticise someone else, do try to avoid falling into gross error of your own.
16
17
The Stranger’s ‘farewell’
19
τ’Brien, Dέ 1λκιέ Études sur Parménide, tome i, Le Poème de Parménide,
Texte, Traduction, Essai Critique, ‘en collaboration avec Jean όrère pour la
traduction française’έ Parisμ Jέ Vrin.
τ’Brien, Dέ 1λλ1aέ Plotinus on the Origin of Matter, An Exercise in the
Interpretation of the ‘Enneads’. Napoli: Bibliopolis.
τ’Brien, Dέ 1λλ1bέ ‘Platon et Plotin sur la Doctrine des Parties de l’Autre’,
Revue Philosophique de la France et de l’Étranger, 116e année, tome 181,
501-512.
τ’Brien, Dέ 1λλ3έ Théodicée Plotinienne, Théodicée Gnostique. Leiden,
New York, Köln: E. J. Brill.
τ’Brien, Dέ 1λληέ Le Non-Être, Deux Études sur le ‘Sophiste’ de Platon.
Sankt-Augustin: Akademia Verlag.
τ’Brien, Dέ 2000έ ‘Parmenides and Plato on What Is σot’, in εέ Kardaun,
J. Spruyt (ed.), The Winged Chariot, Collected Essays on Plato and
Platonism in Honour of L. M. de Rijk. Leiden, Boston, Köln: E. J. Brill, 19104.
τ’Brien, Dέ 200ηέ ‘εatière et Émanation dans les Ennéades de Plotin’, in
C. Viano (ed.), L’Alchimie et ses Racines Philosophiques, La Tradition
Grecque et la Tradition Arabe. Paris: Vrin, 63-87.
τ’Brien, Dέ 200λaέ ‘Plotinμ δa Question du εal’, Cahiers d’Études
Lévinassiennes 8, 295-317.
τ’Brien, Dέ 200λbέ ‘Plato the Pythagoreanμ A Critical Study of Kenneth
Sayre, Plato’s Late Ontology, A Riddle Resolved’, The International
Journal of the Platonic Tradition 3, 58-77.
Owen, G. E. δέ 1λι1έ ‘Plato on σot-Being’, in G. Vlastos (ed.), Plato, A
Collection of Critical Essays, vol. i, Metaphysics and Epistemology. Garden
City, New York: Doubleday (overprinted Macmillan), 223-267. Reprinted
(but, most unfortunately, with a different numbering of the footnotes) in
M. Nussbaum (ed.), G. E. L. Owen, Logic, Science and Dialectic, Collected
Papers in Greek Philosophy. London: Duckworth, 1986, 104-137.
Van Eck, Jέ 2002έ ‘σot-Being and Differenceμ τn Plato’s Sophist 256 D 5258 E 3’, Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy 23, 63-84.19
Readers will naturally be led to wonder whether you have the finesse to see the mote
you claim to see in someone else’s eye, if you are unable to see the beam in your ownέ
19 This item too calls for a word of warning. The author criticises, at some length, the
translation of a crucial sentence in the Greek (256 D 12-E 3), a translation which he
attributes to myself (p. 66 n. 5), but which is not mine at all. The words Van Eck has
quoted, and that he has attached to my name, are not words that I have ever, or would
ever, have written. This extraordinary blunder has arisen because Van Eck has taken
20
Denis O’Brien
Vlastos, G. 1971. Platonic Studies. Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton
University Pressέ There is the same pagination in a ‘Second printing, with
corrections’, 1λκ1έ
upon himself to translate into English my όrench translation of Plato’s ύreek and,
seemingly without a qualm, has then put his translation between inverted commas,
preceded by a reference to myself, all this without the slightest indication to the reader
that the words in quotation marks are not mine, but his. Shame on the author, and shame
on the editor, for so flagrant a violation of the sacredness of quotation marks. For in this
worst of all possible worlds, not only is Van Eck’s ‘quotation’ not a quotation, but a
translation; it is, as it happens, a translation that is doubly false, false as a translation of
my French and false as a translation of Plato’s ύreek—as is also the attempted
translation of Plato’s words that Van Eck seeks to put in its placeέ Error piled on errorέ