Monday, January 26, 2026

Notes and What I Learned From: Philosophy as a Way of Life - the essay "The Figure of Socrates"

While working on the podcast episodes of my book review of Pierre Hadot's Philosophy as a Way of Life, I discovered there were a few essays I did not review back in 2019.  So, I've re-read them and now am posting some thoughts and commentary on them.

"The Figure of Socrates" is Hadot's reflections on how we can put in practice the exercise of contemplating the sage. He asserts that Socrates can be studied and contemplated in three ways. First as a Silenus and as a mediator between the divine and the human condition, second as Eros and the different ways Socrates seduced, loved and was beloved, and thirdly, as Dionysos ("god of death and of life" p. 169) in which we learn how the sage loves life so much (i.e. has thought so deeply on it), he is willing to die to show it!

Silenus

Socrates was physically ugly, thus superficially, he was compared to a Silenus. These were "purely natural beings. They stood for the negation of culture and civilization, for grotesque buffoonery and for the license of the instincts" (Hadot, 149). But upon further reflection, we learn there is something far more important hidden beneath the lurid facade. Alcibiades compares Socrates to statues of Sileni which were not only ugly on the outside, but within were hidden mini figures of gods. Indeed, the symbolism is rich when thinking of the many times Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus and Seneca reference the divinity within ourselves!

Therefore, as we learn of the distasteful appearance of Socrates, we can contemplate how it is simply a mask he wears. If we can look past his outward appearance and even his method, we find we have much to learn. In brief, both his superficial appearance and his method act as masks which cover the deeper lessons he taught. This concept is known as Socratic irony. In other words, he may claim he knows nothing, but in so claiming and appearing ignorant, the line of questioning reveals he knows more than he lets on. Practically speaking, this attitude of playing the fool is often used to great effect in school and work. By assuming the role of 'the ignorant' one opens himself to being willing to learn and take a fresh perspective on things and processes.

We still benefit from Socrates' mask, as we read Plato and others who themselves don the Socratic mask. As we step into their words, our consciousness is sharpened as we near philosophical conversion. Others, through the age, have also donned the masks of others, in an attempt to teach their readers. Kierkegaard used pseudonyms and Nietzsche used the masks of Schopenhauer and Wagner (Hadot, 150-151). In fact, Nietzsche wrote, "An educator never says what he himself thinks, but always only what he thinks of a thing in relation to the requirements of those he educates" (151). Indeed, Socrates used self-deprecation and superficiality, and often pretended to concede others were correct, all in an effort to help the birth the idea simmering in the students' minds. As Nietzsche said, "Mediocrity is the most appropriate mask the superior spirit can wear" (152). On this quote, I'm reminded of Bill's point about Superman (from the film Kill Bill: Volume 2).

 

Through question and answer, Socrates became the midwife of knowledge. By birthing these ideas and concepts, and getting them out in the open, we free the purely conceptual idea from a prison of thought, and release it into the open to be lived and examined. "What he wanted to show us is that we can never understand justice if we do not live it. Justice, like every authentic reality, is indefinable, and this is what Socrates sought to make his interlocutor understand, in order to urge him to 'live' justice" (Hadot, 155). Socrates explicitly noted his aim: "trying to persuade each of you to concern himself less about what he has [than] about what he is, so that he may make himself as good and as reasonable as possible" (155). 

Another point related to this and the masks Socrates bore, is that in a sense, he descended to where man exists and thinks, and by assuming an ironic and mediocre stance, he was able to connect with those who listened and talked with him, to bring them to a higher state. Nietzsche wrote, "I believe I sense that Socrates was profound; his irony was above all the necessity to pass himself off as superficial, in order to be able to associate with people at all." Hadot continues, "for the existential thinker, banality and superficiality are a vital necessity. The existentialist must remain in contact with mankind, even if the latter is at a level of less-than-adequate consciousness" (156). 

Eros

Socrates as Eros is similar to the Silenus, in that the 'the mask' Socrates dons is that of a lover. This love is an educative love, where he pretends to be in love with one of his listeners but in fact the roles become eventually are reversed. Hadot provides the example of Alcibiades, who believed the love declarations from Socrates, but in fact, they were mere declarative seductions. Upon realizing this, Alcibiades finds himself deeply in love with Socrates. Later on, Hadot notes that Socrates' interlocuters actually fell in love with love itself - "to be in love with Socrates, then, was to be in love with love (160).

The entirety of the Symposium is dedicated to the discussion and praise of love. If we observe the description of love from Socrates' perspective (via Diotima), we learn Eros was the child of Penia ("poverty" or "privation") and Poros ("means" or "expedient" or "wealth"). Penia, seeing that she lacked so much, decided to lay with Poros as a way to escape her indigence. Eros, therefore, acquires features from both parents. While Eros may be "clever" and "inventive" he nonetheless remains impoverished and will always want and desire. And on this point, Hadot observes how "Eros is essentially desire, and the only thing that can be desired is that which one does not have" (161). Later we read other traits of Eros: he is a beggar, soldier, inventor, sorcerer, magician, and a clever talker - ever in pursuit of what he desires. In sum, Eros represents "merely a call and a possibility" and like the Silenus statue, which contains a figurine of a god within, "they only open up so that one can get at them. The etymological meaning of Poros, Eros' father, is 'means of access' or 'way out.' Socrates is only a Silenius, opening up onto something beyond himself" (162) and we, along with his listeners, become conscious of something we lack: wisdom.

Hadot later summarizes this aspect of the spiritual exercise of the contemplation of the sage, in the form of Eros. He does so via Nietzsche, Goethe and Holderlin.
  • Nietzsche: "The deepest insights spring from love alone."
  • Goethe: "We learn only from those we love."
  • Holderlin: "Mortal man gives his best when he loves."
Dionysos

We also see the sage Socrates in Dionysos, who was the god of tragedy and comedy, as well as the god of life and death (169).  Hadot channels Nietzche in asking how Socrates, who seemed to love life so much, could be so willing to submit to death and even possibly hating existence? (167). We begin the detective work by simply observing how the sage loves life, as Nietzsche wrote, "they have thought most deeply, must love what is most living and, as sages, incline in the end to the beautiful." Even more guffawing to Nietzsche is the observation of Socrates suggesting a debt be paid to Asclepius, who has found the antidote to the disease of life: death! But alas, perhaps he misunderstood. Socrates did not think life was a disease, but rather he may felt that a certain way of life was: the life left unexamined.

An examined life - one that is contemplated and tested most deeply - becomes a life worth living and one that is rich, flowing and sustaining. Hadot recalls an "old medieval encomium of the Holy Ghost" that aptly describes the benefits of an examined life: flecte quod est rigidum, fove quod est frigidum, rege quod est devium" which is translated as 'bend what is rigid, warm what is cold, guide what has gone astray.' And what an apt description of the aim of making life livable!

Hadot concludes the essay with "Nietzsche's encomium"
The genius of the heart, as that great concealed one possesses it, the tempter god and born pied piper of consciences, whose voice knows how to descend into the netherworld of every soul; who does not say a word or cast a glance in which there lies no secret goal of seduction ... the genius of the heart who silences all that is loud and self-satisfied, teaching it to listen; who smooths rough souls and lets them taste a new desire - to lie still as a mirror, that the deep sky may mirror itself in them ... the genius of the heart from whose touch everyone walks away richer, not having received grace and surprised, not as blessed and oppressed by alien goods, but richer in himself, newer to himself than before, broken open and sounded by a thawing wind; more uncertain, perhaps; tenderer, more fragile, more broken, but full of hopes that as yet have no name.

Ways to Practice

That concludes my review of Hadot's essay on "The Figure of Socrates." After reading the essay and writing this commentary, I thought of a few ways for how you and I can be more thoughtful in how to implement some exercises as we contemplate the Socratic sage.

Perhaps the most obvious way is to assume the Socratic mask, by practicing humility and irony. For example, we could regularly approach conversations and learning opportunities by “playing the fool." In this humble attitude, we position ourselves to ask questions, and be willing to admit ignorance. This opens us to genuine learning and helps others feel comfortable in sharing their perspectives. Sometimes a bit of self-deprecation can reduce friction and help open dialogue and learning.

Another way to put these ideas into practice is to embody our values. We should try to focus less on what we possess and more on who we are. We should make a daily practice of reflecting on our actions and choices, asking ourselves if they align with our values and ideals.

We can also learn through friendships and relationships and with those we work. Often others exhibit behaviors and possess knowledge of what we lack. This desire and love to learn mindset could be exhibited in relationships with mentors, friends, and colleagues - virtually anyone who inspires us to grow. Recognize that deep learning often springs from affection and admiration. In these interactions and conversations we can allow ourselves to be changed by them. We should be open to falling “in love with love”—that is, with the process of learning and growing through connection.

Additionally we can embrace the examined life through reflection, question and transformation. This is not simple daily reflection, but rather a deeper exercise in taking a step back and looking more cosmically. We could question our beliefs, test our assumptions, and strive to “bend what is rigid, warm what is cold, guide what has gone astray.” Practically speaking, after a particularly challenging time in life, we could could ask ourselves: What did I learn? Where did I change? What remains unexamined? Then, we can use these reflections to guide our future actions and decisions.

We also can practice greater and deeper acceptance of life’s paradoxes, by balancing joy and acceptance of our mortality. We can think about what brings joy in our life and contrast that with the limits of existence. Recognize that loving life deeply also means accepting its end, and that a life left unexamined is the true “disease.” Practically speaking, gratitude and acceptance of and meditation on the beauty of life and the inevitability of death, helps us to live more fully and authentically.

Lastly, we can be a midwife of ideas both for ourselves and others. In our own teaching, mentoring, or leadership, we can focus on helping others “birth” their own ideas. We can use questions and dialogue to guide rather than dictate. For example, when someone seeks advice, resist the urge to give direct answers. Instead, ask probing questions that help them clarify their own thinking and arrive at insights themselves.

Reference

Hadot, P. (2017). Philosophy as a Way of Life : Spiritual Exercises from Socrates to Foucault (M. Chase, Trans.). Blackwell Publishing.

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