A current project... If anyone wants to read and comment, that would be cool.
Eric Vance Johnson
Eros as Ethics:
post-metaphysical bio-transcendentalism as originary foundations
‘So it is only what moves itself that never desists from motion, since it does not leave off being itself. In fact, this self-mover is also the source [archê] and spring of motion in everything that moves; and a source has no beginning’ – Socrates to Phaedrus, Plato: Phaedrus (245c7-10)
‘The safest general characterization
of the European philosophical tradition
is that it consists of a series of footnotes to Plato’
A. N. Whitehead, Process and Reality
Abstract: The idea of discovering an external ethics – a law-like foundation of absolute norms which can be juxtaposed atop a fluid and dynamic life – has proven to be an elusive, if not unobtainable goal. Thus, this paper will argue that a quest for such metaphysical guidance necessarily leads elsewhere, to an ethics that continuously (re)emerges from within our personal lives and concurrent social structures. Ethical maxims and the actions they regulate must be conceived as part of a unitary system, which, above all, necessarily unfolds in such a way as to preserve that very system: the bios, or zoe, proper. Though dominant research often compels philosophers to admit that there exists no external governing agent, transcendental truth, or metaphysical justification for the way people should act; we are not prevented from theorizing that the norms which govern our lives must be intertwined with the very idea of life itself. Therefore, I wish to argue that by orienting ourselves towards this universal aim, an ethics emerges which perpetually lends guidance and justification.
This paper will work within the framework of Platonic philosophy, drawing primarily from Symposium in order to argue that the Greek concept of Eros is useful for conceptualizing a foundational ethics. Indeed, ‘ethics’ itself is a rather nebulous term, oftentimes existing as little more than an empty signifier which reflects dominant cultural norms. Thus, ethics easily falls back into relativism, arguably leading, as a source of justification, to a dead-end. Rather than pursue this line of argumentation, I intent to (re)conceptualize ethics as a type of harmony or order. Through this approach, rather than arriving at rigid and static rules for the governing of behavior, I instead hope to identify an underlying orientation towards life itself. This orientation is therefore always becoming, for it emerges from life vis-à-vis the eternal dynamism of living matter.
I. Introduction:
The goal of this paper is to re-conceptualize ‘ethics’ through the prism of Greek thought – specifically through ideas articulated by Plato. Unfortunately, such a task carries a great deal of philosophical baggage. I cannot hope here to reconstruct the countless analytic and normative theories that have been developed over the centuries; however, what is possible is to return to some first principles and to address these early ideas in relation to the ethics problematic. While it is true that ‘ethics’ as a concept lacks a strong definition it is helpful to provide some weak descriptions of the term, for example: right conduct, reasons for action, underlying individual or cultural principles. Admittedly, all of these ideas are conceptually vague. Yet what is common amongst them is that the source of action, through millennia of investigation, is perpetually without concrete justification (or, put positively, generally emerges from speculative origins). Metaphysics fails to provide such a foundation, whether in its theistic or scientific garb. Therefore, we must look elsewhere. I wish to propose the following: Life itself is the necessary foundation for all ethical considerations, and ethics always exists as a relationship to life – the bios. Ethics is therefore ‘alive’ so long as it is in movement, and its movement animates the continuous foundation and justification for its existence. The following argument follows: Insofar as ethics is an emergent ‘doctrine’ which is justified from the a posteriori dynamism of life, it is post-metaphysical; insofar as the continuation of life itself is the only a priori rationale for this ethics, it is bio-transcendental; coupled, these concepts provide the foundation for all ethical considerations, especially when linked to the Platonic idea of Eros: understood as an erotic longing for what is absent, for completion, for the harmonious and the beautiful.
II. Autopoiesis as Foundation
As told in Plato’s dialogue Phaedrus, the above quote is uttered by Socrates to his friend of the same name. To place this passage in context: Socrates’ offers these words in order to provide evidence for the existence of the soul – a claim to which many in modern society are understandably dubious. Metaphysical speculation aside, I wish to highlight the passage as point of departure for the following essay, for it illuminates the importance of originary foundations. That is the topic that will concern us here: from where (or what) do beginnings commence, and moreover, how can our approach to origins help us ground our actions within a dynamic world?
Unfortunately, it is impossible to know to whom the words in the aforementioned passage actually belong, nor can we know the truth-value of the utterance: Plato never explicitly stated his theories , and since Socrates never put his thoughts to paper, we can only speculate as to how accurately others presented his ideas. However, on at least two accounts – and at least to motivate his audience – it seems that Plato maintained some belief in the need to at least hypothesize the existence and immortality of the soul. Additionally, since he was the student of Socrates, we might infer that such sentiment was mutually shared. But regardless, and conjecture aside, in the aforementioned passage it is clear that the soul is supposed, and from such archetypes (archê) all else springs.
There is no analytic argument for Socrates’ claim. Indeed, the proof he offers for the immortality of the soul is that it is always in motion, and whatever is always in motion is everlasting. Obviously this is not an altogether convincing line of reasoning; we must use hermeneutic methods in order to understand Socrates’ claim based on his given historical position and concurrent methodology. As Gadamer notes:
If we find in Plato’s dialogues and in Socrates’ arguments all manner of violations of logic – false inferences, the omission of necessary steps, equivocations, the interchanging of one concept with another – the reasonable hermeneutic assumption on which to proceed is that we are dealing with a discussion. And we ourselves do not conduct our discussions more geometrico. Instead we move within the live play of risking assertions, of taking back what we have said, of assuming and rejecting, all the while proceeding on our way to reaching an understanding.
Therefore, Plato’s underlying intent must be derived from within the give-and-take inherent to the dialogic form. But I wish to add that we should also keep the then-existing historical consciousness in perspective. Hence, it is crucial to place the dialogues within the framework of a dominant culture and set of beliefs, and moreover, we must reflect on the idea of soul existing at that time. Finally, and as the method for this essay, I believe it is necessary for conclusions to be based on not only the culmination of a given dialogue, but the interaction of multiple dialogues taken together. Indeed, reflection will show that the Greek concept of soul does not carry modern connotations, but instead deals more with sophrosynē, inner concord, self-governance, and even justice. The logical conclusion is that soul, at least in this considered manifestation, always exists and is always aiming towards harmony and balance.
Taking a moment to interpret the aforementioned passage, it seems that Socrates maintains that a self-moving first-principle (archê) arises from what is always undergoing movement, and in this case, what is undergoing movement does so because it never stops being itself. If what-is-in-movement-through-being-itself becomes fixed and static, it is no longer alive: ‘what moves, and is moved by, something else stops living when it stops moving.’ Further, ‘a source that originated from something else would no longer be the source.’ Therefore, Socrates is attempting to convey an abstract and somewhat vexing ontology: there are things underlying this phenomenal world that are always in movement; these things have no cause for their movement except for the fact they are always becoming themselves; and this movement is an antecedent source of other dynamisms (phenomena). Undeniably, such sentiment provides little currency to the modern, ‘rational’ mind; however, we should be hesitant to dismiss this position outright. Truth is oftentimes coming-into-being, and in this case it is emergence itself that underlies a hypothesized truth. A hermeneutic circle is unavoidable. We must ‘step back’ far enough to consider the animated, lively dynamic which is inherent to life, insofar as being is always a process of becoming. And it is through this relation of being-into-becoming that allows us to fully grasp the life dynamic.
III. Plato’s Idea of Eros: notes on conceptual development
The Greek word eros is oftentimes translated as love. Admittedly, this is a rather kitschy and pedestrian interpretation, for it does little to convey the powerful implications contained in the original concept. Looking back on the history of the word, it is probably more informative to asses the origins of Eros from Greek mythology, continuing on in subsequent philosophy. From this perspective, Eros is here acknowledged in its first form – as a God, considered to be the ‘protogenos of procreation, who emerged self-formed at the beginning of time.’ He was the force for the creation of new life, the bringer of harmony, the one who ‘rules over the minds and the council of gods and men.’ There is no previous cause for his existence.
From this illustrious beginning we can move onward to consider the Greek words for love: eros (erasthai) and philia. Though both of these terms can be defined as love at a rudimentary level, in fact, the English word ‘love’ lacks the precision connoted in the Greek articulations. Philia carries with it a certain fondness for the other, be it family, friend, community, or even labor and hobby. Eros, alternatively, entails intense desire and passion. Though in modern usage it is generally tethered to the erotic, there is no such uni-dimensional meaning to the original. Instead, the Greek word suggests an almost transcendental seeking; an overcoming; the attempted cessation of a lack that simultaneously can never be quelled. We can find here a link to the god of the same name, insinuating vigor and the ceaseless becoming of the new. Eros is the originary cause that emerges from its own being – a source that has no beginning and is always in motion, always becoming itself.
Plato discusses eros in two key dialogues, Phaedrus and Symposium. Though the latter dialogue will prove most fruitful for our discussion on ethics, they both will be of use for fleshing out Plato’s conception of eros. Taking a moment to engage the dialogue Phaedrus, I intend to focus on how Plato conveys the concept of eros through three key movements, 1) in a speech written by Lysias and dictated to Socrates by Phaedrus, 2) in Socrates’ comic response to Lysias’ views, and 3) the link between eros and Socrates’ analogy of the soul as told in the myth of the charioteer. Once Eros has been considered through this perspective, it will be juxtaposed with the position which emerges through Symposium.
1) In the first articulation we find eros used in the more erotic sense. After taking sanctuary beneath a plane tree and beside a calming stream, Phaedrus reads Socrates a speech that Lysias had composed concerning the Greek custom of paiderasteia, whereby a young boy would enter into a relationship with an older man in order to cultivate arête (excellence). Though the tradition was common, Lysias’ speech is intended to instruct the youth (loved) to avoid an older male (lover) who was actually in love with him, arguing that the lover will likely succumb to unchecked desire and do what is necessary to keep the loved for himself – even if this means taking actions that only impede the youth’s development. Though Phaedrus is enamored by the eloquence of Lysias’ words, Socrates only jokingly approves and concludes that the speech was only (quasi-) stylistically impressive, placing form over function and lacking in original content. Moreover, Lysias failed to fully define the concept under discussion (love), a mistake that Socrates will quickly remedy. Possessed with a full breast and by the words of others, Socrates intends to conjure earlier sentiments much like we find done by the slave boy in Plato’s Meno. It is anamnesis that is at work in Socrates response to Lysias’ words.
2) Here begins the second movement: Socrates (reluctantly) agrees to provide a speech of his own, offering more convincing points than Lysias yet maintaining a similar thesis. We should note at the onset that Socrates begins his speech with the statement ‘I’ll cover my head while I’m speaking.’ Though his given reason for this behavior is that it will help him to avert embarrassment, it is more likely to display the almost comic and sarcastic intent behind what is to come, chiefly, in his definition of eros (love). Again, there is no claim that these ideas are original, but are more aptly considered as common knowledge and popular sentiment.
What is of interest here is that Socrates states that ‘love is some kind of desire… [but] even men who are not in love have a desire for what is beautiful.’ Further, ‘each of us is ruled by two principles which we follow wherever they lead: one is our inborn desire for pleasure, the other is our acquired judgment that pursues what is best [read: doxa, or opinion].’ It seems that these two principles quarrel, with either desire or self-control being ascendant; and when desire takes control and is ‘all-conquering in its forceful drive,’ it is called eros. Speaking almost in dithyrambs, overtaken by the power of their idyllic setting, Socrates extols the same warning as Lysias: the boy should beware of a lover who is really in love. However, this time the reason is more succinct: Love is depicted as an almost insane sickness that will cause the lover to do harm to the loved. Alas, it is only when the lover comes to his senses that the spell can be broken, and in the end it is the one who is loved that will be abandoned.
3) This brings us to the third mediation and the one that most concerns us here, for it reveals the distinction between two views of eros – eros as physical desire, and eros as the mental pursuit of truth (forms). On the verge of ending his discussion with Phaedrus, Socrates is possessed by his Daemon and realizes his earlier words were in error. Previous views of eros were necessarily flawed; though Eros is ‘a god or something divine [and] can’t be in a bad way,’ both Lysias and Socrates had depicted him otherwise. Thus, Socrates pulls the veil from his head and begins anew, this time shifting the negative thesis of eros as a love-induced insanity to a one that is more positive: eros is a type of madness, and madness is a gift from the gods.
We are now confronted with two opposing views of eros. The former, told by Lysias and originally argued by Socrates was that love ‘is not sent by the gods as a benefit to a lover and his boy.’ Now the thesis has shifted: love is not a bad type of madness, but instead is of benefit – ‘a gift from the gods.’ This new argument will not be some act of clever sophism, but instead will be made to appeal to the wise. However, to accomplish this Socrates must first address the nature of the soul.
As mentioned earlier in this essay, the soul for Socrates is immortal because, due to self-movement, it is always in motion. Further, it is a source and a source has no beginning. Thus we are entering into a discussion regarding ontology as formulated by Plato: the soul, like other instances of the Forms, exists as an archetype that occurs beyond the phenomenal world. Further, soul – though of a single type – takes on different properties vis-à-vis the process of anamnesis; the more the possessor of soul remembers from past incarnations will affect dispositions in the current life, and the way the current life is led will effect its next incarnation. Plato orders manifestations of soul somewhat predictably, with the lover of wisdom at the apex, descending downward to that of the tyrant. One might say that individuals participate in the form of soul more completely based on accumulated lifetimes of experience. The more experiences can be recalled, the more one moves upwards towards the apex: the philosopher.
Though describing what the soul actually is would be beyond Socrates immediate abilities, he claims it is possible to do so via analogy. Accordingly, the myth of the charioteer is introduced. Simply put, we are instructed to ‘liken the soul to the natural union of a team of winged horses and their charioteer.’ The winged horses are of two competing sorts, one with white coat, regal posture, and self-control; the other with black pelt, wild disposition, and prone to unchecked desire. It is the charioteer who is pulled by these competing forces: the white, obedient horse aids in his moderation, while the black, rebellious horse encourages indecent impulses and hasty decisions. Hence it is the ability of the charioteer to find concord that makes all the difference. The symbolism is readily apparent: the white horse represents the ideal, compliance, respect and moderation; it closely parallels Eros as a god. Alternately, the dark horse represents the erotic, passion, and unbridled impulse; it parallels the view of eros as depicted by Lysias. As previously mentioned, the way the soul is ordered (reflected in the way the ‘horses are guided’) is key: ‘any who have led their lives with justice will change to a better fate, and any who have led theirs with injustice, to a worse one.’ The charioteer represents this ability for self-leadership via remembrance.
And so the charioteer is the potential to strike balance and moderation; he must not be pulled along blindly, but instead must encourage the white horse while taming the dark companion. Simultaneously, he must not dismiss desire altogether, but harness its power, keep it in balance, and set it along the right path. Only then, says Socrates, can the soul be elevated: when chariots are balanced and under control, they move easily towards heaven, and from heaven they can view what is beyond – those things that are ‘without color and without shape and without solidity, a being that really is what it is, the subject of all true knowledge, visible only to intelligence, the soul’s steersman.’ These ‘things’ are what we today refer to as the Forms.
All that remains is to identify the right path. The tools have been provided; the task is to make proper use of them. The young boy who earlier led the man to unchecked desire did so because he was beautiful; however, it was not the fault of the boy but, in a sense, the fault of the man’s charioteer. The dual wings of eros (one white, one black), must function together; however, it is their steersman who is responsible for proper balance. Thus, what is beautiful is unchanging; it is our orientation towards what is beautiful that makes all the difference, and this orientation originates from the proper balancing of the soul – of the wings of eros. ‘[Humans] are modest and fully in control of themselves now that they have enslaved the part that brought trouble into the soul and set free the part that gave it virtue.’ Further, a ‘soul that has seen the most will be planted in the seed of man who will be become a lover of wisdom or of beauty, or who will be cultivated in the arts and prone to erotic love.’ And so we arrive at Plato’s idea of eros: erotic love for the beautiful, pulled by desire, but tempered by moderation and wisdom. Embracing Eros allows one to be pulled upwards, towards truth.
IV. Eros in Symposium: further conceptual development
With Plato’s concept of Eros set out in Phaedrus, it is now necessary to turn to Symposium. Though we have defined eros quite specifically, the composite terms themselves are still conceptually troublesome – especially that of the beautiful. Heretofore we have encountered the ‘model’ eros must follow (i.e. desire tempered by wisdom); however, the goal itself (the beautiful) has yet to be identified. Additionally, the proposed relation with ethics must be articulated.
Symposium primarily concerns love; beauty is a somewhat secondary interest. Hence, the immediate goal is to explore the connection between these two terms with an eye towards highlighting the inherent nexus of eros and the beautiful as explained by Diotima (as conveyed by Socrates). I wish to begin this project by highlighting key ‘definitions’ of eros as articulated through the eulogies of Phaedrus, Pausanius, Eryximachus, Aristophanes, Agathon, and finally Socrates (and by extension, Diotima). Due to the nature of this project, many of the underlying intricacies within the text will be avoided. Though Symposium is primarily a dialogue on love, we must pay attention as to how the underlying concepts behind love shift throughout the text. This is a gradual process, unfolding and building slowly through the individual speeches.
Beginning first with Phaedrus, we find Eros initially depicted as ‘the most ancient of the gods, the most honoured, and the most effective in enabling human beings to acquire courage and happiness.’ Further, he ‘is the source of our greatest benefits… [and] …implant[s] something which gives lifelong guidance to those who are to lead good lives… a sense of shame at acting disgracefully and pride in acting well.’ Phaedrus then expands this idea to include human action, most notably between a lover and the loved: for Phaedrus, this is a powerful bond; the union is the source of great commitment and courage. Though the relationship remains asymmetrical (with the lover being more ‘god-like) than the loved, both lover and loved will sacrifice their lives to protect the other.
Though Phaedrus’ concept of eros correlates nicely with Greek mythology, it is primarily descriptive and genealogical, offering little in the way of logical justifications. Love is praised through the prism of custom and tradition. And so we turn now to Pausanias, who argues that praising love in singular form is not exact enough. Instead, it is necessary to look deeper – to a distinction between common and heavenly love. Though both types often occur, Pausanias encourages participants in the symposium to praise only that type of love which is done correctly. Common love is ‘undiscriminating’ and is typical of ‘inferior people.’ It is motivated by unchecked desire, correlates closely to ‘lust,’ and connotes a primary concern with physical gratification. A parallel can be drawn here between this common love and the type of love discussed earlier in the Phaedrus via the speech of Lysias; the one who is loved should beware when the lover is motivated by base aims and personal gain.
Yet heavenly love exists as a distinct antipode to this sordid manifestation. It motivates men in a different way – not simply to pursue physical passion but, moreover, to seek union with, and encourage those, who possess blossoming intelligence (potential). This type of love is orderly and must be of benefit to the loved one; intentions of the heavenly lover are necessarily admirable. As in the speech of Phaedrus, it is linked to the aforementioned concept of paiderasteia; however, in Pausanias’ speech the emphasis is on the fact that the lover sublimates his physical urges in order to promote the wisdom and virtue of the loved. Though physical gratification might eventually result from this coupling, it is not the sole motive for the relationship. Again, to draw a connection with Phaedrus, a similar lesson is to be learned through the analogy of the charioteer. Though the dark horse can never be completely ignored, as long as the white horse is dominant the chariot will remain in balance. Here we begin to detect the first instances of an ethics: in the case of the relation between man and boy, the boy is justified in subordinating himself to the elder insofar as the lover ‘helps him improve in wisdom or some other aspect of virtue.’ Reciprocally, the lover should only pursue the loved insofar as the motivation stems from improving his psychological condition. Of course, it should be noted that the aims drawn from heavenly love still lack originary foundations – an issue to which we shall turn shortly.
Turning now to the speech made by Eryximachus: Though he generally agrees with Pausanias’ division of love, again a conceptual addition is made. Here, the emotional aspect of eros is transcended and directed towards the bios theoretikos, to the metabolic responses of living matter. ‘Love is not only expressed in the emotional responses of human beings to beautiful people, but in many other types of responses as well: in the bodily responses of every kind of animal, in plants growing in the earth, in virtually everything that exists.’ From his position as a physician this step is a logical one: love is not only for the other, but is also a way of understanding the self as well as the surrounding world.
Eryximachus goes on to say, ‘medicine, in essence, is knowledge of the forms of bodily love… The person who is most a doctor should be able to take the most antagonistic parts of the body and creates friendship and love between them.’ Thus, we find that the concept of harmony (sophrosynē) is derived from this bifurcation of love into common and heavenly types. Divergent things must be made to agree; for Eryximachus, it is eros that has that power to bring about the proper order of not only the paiderasteia, but the individual, the seasons, the crop, health, justice, and happiness. For Eryximachus, eros is not only the mental orientation of one individual towards another, but also entails our perspective towards the surrounding physical world. Thus, the concept of eros is broadened and enriched in such a way as that our considerations are not simply for one-other, but all-others. All life is improved by eros; eros thus becomes a specific orientation, what I would like to term: bio-transcendentalism.
And so the praising of love is now turned over to Aristophanes and Agathon, two classical poets who treated the comic and tragic aspects of Greek life (respectively). Dealing first with the former: it is Aristophanes who resorts back to myth in order to give his eulogy to love. In this speech, we are told about the origins of love – a Greek legend that explains why one always longs for another. Though I will dismiss the specifics of the tale, what is of interest is the idea that humans originally consisted of twice our current physical form: where now we have two arms, two legs, and one face, we then had eight appendages and a head with double the features. However, after becoming arrogant and challenging the gods for supremacy, Zeus cut humans right down the middle, leaving the individual with the form we retain today. And according to Aristophanes we always long for what was taken from us – that ‘other’, that missing half which was ripped away. Indeed, we long for what we lack, and eros is the attempt to satisfy that eternal longing.
Aristophanes captures two interesting aspects of love with this speech. On the one hand, humans always long for what they are deficient in. It is not that we want someone like us, but someone who completes us. We desire a return to an original union – a restitution for the primary violation: it is not that we need another, but that half of us is missing and must be reunited. On the other hand, Aristophanes has reduced eros back into a more base understanding. Though the concept had been built up and enriched through the earlier speeches, it is now considered to be a mere longing for completion rather than a desire for growth. ‘’love’ is the name for the desire and pursuit of wholeness.’
The scene depicted by Aristophanes is almost comic: a single, ridiculous creature, torn asunder, constantly (vainly) longing for its absent part. But at the same time Aristophanes is clear: this speech is not just a comedy; it also represents a restoration, a transcendence of an immediate lack. By finding union with what was taken from us, we become more than the sum of our parts: we return to the original, to the foundation – to that what was wrenched from us by forces outside of our control. In short, we seek a return to perfection. However, what is important to note is that perfection, for Aristophanes, is only in a future that recaptures the past; it is not in becoming more but in returning to what was. Transcendence here is mere illusion: in reality, it is simply a regressive atavism. Eryximachus’ transcendence is therefore more universal in nature.
Alternately, we now turn to the speech made by Agathon. Agathon makes an initial declaration of great importance: previous speakers have failed to discuss the nature of Eros; instead, they have only congratulated human beings for the good things he has bestowed upon them. Therefore, Agathon decides to begin by first praising Eros and then by praising the gifts he bestows. He lays out a litany of reasons for why Eros is great and deserves our admiration. To name but a few: ‘[Eros] is the most beautiful and the best [of the gods]… he is the youngest of the gods and stays young forever.’ When the gods quarreled amongst themselves, it was Eros who quelled their bickering by orienting them towards beauty, for love cannot be directed at ugliness. He is the bringer of harmony, ‘drain[ing] us of estrangement and fill[ing] us with familiarity, causing us to come together in all shared gatherings…’ He is virtuous, is supreme in beauty and excellence, and is the source of all things necessary.
Eros, for the first time in Symposium, is conceived as the most beautiful god; he is the youngest of the immortals; he adores youth and good looks, not age and intelligence. He cannot be directed at ugliness. In Agathon’s speech, love is almost superficial in nature: eros does not encourage virtue but simply is everything that is good. Further, given Agathon’s reputation for youthful beauty, we see that his depiction of love follows in his own image. Eros is linked with narcissism and control rather than the process of becoming more. Eros is not harmony but force.
We must turn to Socrates’ response in order to see the consequences of this particular belief. Through a dialectic investigation of Agathon’s argument, Eros is given a final articulation. To highlight some of the key questions Socrates asked:
Q: Socrates wants to know whether Love is of something or nothing.
A: Agathon answers emphatically that it is of the former.
Therefore Love must be love of something.
Q: Socrates wants to know if Love desires what it is love of or not?
A: Agathon answers in the affirmative.
Therefore, Love consists of beauty – of what love is of.
Q: Socrates wants to know if Love possesses what he desires and loves.
A: Agathon – somewhat reluctantly – agrees that Love must desire what he lacks, for ‘no one is in need of qualities he already has.’
Therefore, Love desires what he does not possess.
Q: Socrates wants to know if things that are good are also beautiful.
A: Agathon states that the good is synonymous with the beautiful.
Therefore, the beautiful is also the good.
Socrates concludes from this exchange that if someone wants what they already have, then what this really means is that they want a particular quality to extend into the future. Therefore, often when something is wanted, the real desire is for what is currently unavailable, namely, a guarantee of ‘the continued presence in the future of the things [that are available] now.’ Therefore, Love cannot be beautiful, for if he were he would not be in need of what he already has. The conclusion is that ‘Love is in need of beautiful things… good things are beautiful…, [and so Love] would be in need of good things.’ All that remains is to ascertain what these good things are.
Earlier, I proposed that Eros, for Plato, is erotic love for the beautiful. With the equivalents of Good and Beautiful, we can now state that Eros is erotic love for the Good and/or Beautiful, pulled by desire, but tempered by moderation and wisdom. This is the issue to which we shall now turn.
V. Eros as Ethics: the beautiful and the good as guides to first foundations
At this point we have established that the concept of Eros can be approached from several directions. Indeed, throughout two dialogues and multiple characters, Plato has teased out several (oftentimes divergent) perspectives. To recount some of these key ideas: it was established from the Phaedrus that eros is the erotic love for the beautiful, pulled by desire, but tempered by moderation and wisdom; this erotic love for the beautiful correlates with the pull towards truth, an orientation which elevates humans towards the apex of philosopher. From Symposium, other positions were formulated: that Eros guides action between two lovers, fostering courage and commitment (Phaedrus); that love can be of two kinds, heavenly and common; yet only heavenly love – that is, selfless love oriented towards helping the growth of another – really counts as Eros (Pausanias); that Eros is not simply for another individual, but, moreover, exists in nature – that is, all divergent things seek agreement, and it is eros that enables this agreement. Eros in this sense is a harmony involved in life itself (Eryximachus); that Eros involves the search for something that is missing, the resolution of a lack, and the fulfillment of the self (Aristophanes); and that all of this culminates in a desire for the Good (Agathon contra Socrates).
Certainly there are criticisms for each of these themes; I by no means with to sing the praises of Symposium’s characters while ignoring the faults of the arguments. However, I also do not want to lose sight of the specific theme of this paper: Eros as the foundation for an ethics. Therefore, turning now to Socrates’ speech and his recounting of Diotima’s arguments, I want to propose that all of these ideas can be harmonized into a more complete (though not necessarily parsimonious) theory. To recall the above quote from Gadamer, this entire process – this discussion – has evolved in order to reach a specific understanding. This understanding is to implement Eros as a perspective for understanding Ethics. I believe this final objective emerges when we assess the ‘mysteries of Diotima.’
Diotima begins by challenging one of the common assumptions that has been proposed throughout this essay, namely, that Eros is a great god. Instead, she suggests that he is a great spirit, a Daemon, an entity that falls between god and human. In this sense he is a mediator between gods and men, between the divine and the flawed, the perfect and the imperfect. Eros ‘fills the gap’ between the two, and ‘enables the universe to form an interconnected whole.’ Though he is given a metaphysical ‘existence’, I wish to propose that Eros is better conceptualized through a post-metaphysical understanding: from this perspective, Eros represents the qualities necessary for something to become something more, i.e. for something to transcend itself.
By shifting the perspective of Eros from a fixed god to a mediation which strives for something that he does not have (the good) , and because Eros represents the connection between the mortal and the immortal , he can never be defined as an absolute set of rules or occurrence. Indeed, we have seen that several explanations of what Eros is have been proposed, and in the end, they all fell short for this particular reason. Instead, Eros is based on the link between what is and what can be, and this mediation is the overcoming of a lack. Eros is the striving to actualize potentiality through action.
Because Eros is no longer what is (a static god) but is instead regarded as process (acquiring what is missing), Eros is post-metaphysical. As Process, Eros has brought about and continues to bring about what Is. Further, and through process, what Is becomes what Can Be. This occurs through the overcoming of deficiency.
To reiterate, all is dependent on Diotima’s conceptual shift: from altering the perspective of Eros from a god – by definition an immortal, all-knowing and complete entity – to a mediate entity existing between what is mortal and immortal, Diotima instructs us to undertake a corresponding transformation in our understanding of Eros. We find that he is not – as Agathon supposed – in possession of the beautiful, but is instead always in search of (or becoming) the beautiful. Moreover, the object of love is actually ‘reproduction and birth in beauty…’ Eros, much like the Good in Republic, exists as a Form that illuminates everything else. Therefore, all the various conceptions of Eros put forward until now simply represent different aspects that have been illuminated by Eros.
Yet one last position needs to be juxtaposed atop this perspective: the importance of Eryximachus’ speech, and what I earlier termed bio-transcendentalism. This brings us back to the original problematic: the vague nature of any ethics. If ethics is simply taken as a relative doctrine which upholds a culture or tradition, then it lacks any actual universality. Moreover, if ethics is derived from a particular (known) metaphysics, it lacks any justification. However, if we link ethics to the aforementioned post-metaphysical concept of Eros, we find that the idea behind bio-transcendentalism gives guidance to the erotic striving. Bio-transcendentalism is what we strive for; simultaneously, bio-transcendentalism underpins our motivations for striving. Indeed, Diotima makes this very point: ‘mortal nature does all it can to live forever and to be immortal.’ Therefore, when linked to the bios, ethics transcends a mere culture and corresponds to life itself. Axiom: Life always desires to continue.
Diotima proposes that for someone to really know the beautiful they must begin when young. Indeed, what occurs through the process of learning is to ascend to even greater levels of abstraction. Diotima recounts this process through an ordering of love that moves from the specific to the universal. This proceeds as follows: initially, a lover will learn to love just one body. Eventually, however, they will see the relationship between all bodies, and begin to love all beautiful bodies that are encountered. Yet the body is simply an arbitrary vessel; there is something deeper within it and that is mind. Thus, in due course the lover will learn to ‘regard the beauty of minds’ over that of the bodies themselves. But the journey is not yet complete: the product of minds becomes even more attractive than mind itself; therefore, ‘beauty in practices and laws’ are given priority: as one body is to many bodies, one mind is to all minds. But it is the idea of beauty that makes this conceptual extension possible; hence, beauty as a form of knowledge is understood for what it really is: a light which illuminates all other things. The lover ‘will be turned towards the great sea of beauty and gazing on it he’ll give birth, through a boundless love of knowledge, to many beautiful and magnificent discourses and ideas.’ Turning one’s self towards the ‘great sea of beauty’ – towards the light of the Good, is an erotic process, for it is a longing to overcome a lack.
VI. Conclusion: post-metaphysical bio-transcendentalism as originary foundations
We find this ‘overcoming of a lack’ throughout the previous discussion on Eros, most succinctly in the myth recounted by Aristophanes. All humans longs for a completeness, to appropriate what is missing. And through both the speech of Eryximachus as well as the arguments of Diotima, we find that this is not just a human trait but is inherent to all life – it is the response to what is confronted, in an attempt to seek out harmony and agreement. Ethics, therefore, is this process, and as stated earlier, Eros is process incarnate: it is mediation between the now and the future.
Hence, Eros can be coupled with Ethics, providing a universal justification for right action. It is the original foundation for the way life unfolds, for life is constantly attempting to overcome the boundaries it encounters. This overcoming is a transcendence. And because it is life that is transcending life, it is bio-transcendental. The explanation for this claim – as Diotima informs us – is an erotic desire to seek out, to understand the larger picture from a greater level of abstraction. And what else is ethics but this: an orientation towards life – which never stops being itself – and promotes the beautiful and the good?
Bibliography:
Gadamer, Hans-Georg: Dialogue and Dialectic. Yale University Press, New Haven, 1980.
Plato: Symposium. Translated by Christopher Gill. Penguin Classics, London, 1999.
Reeve, C.D.C., ed.: Plato on Love. Hackett, Indianapolis, 2006.
