Philosophy and the Lie

The reason why the philosopher hates the lie is because it is of the essence of philosophy as pursuit of the truth in dialogue to set aside the pettiness that makes one wish always to be right. The condition of possibility of learning is the willingness to acknowledge that one could be wrong, and to admit it where this is shown to be the case, in order that one might revise one’s opinions to conform to the truth now recognized, changeable though it may be as one grows over time or finds contrary evidence. Hence the Socratic doctrine that if we knew right, we would do right – this is a fudge, given the obviousness unwillingness of many to engage in philosophical discourse, which is a polite way of saying that the many lie. It is a doctrine that allows for the reaching of those who are captive to this way of thinking but have something good, or better, in them that will respond if called upon by the philosopher to do so.

One has a taste for philosophy. Lying is not a matter of something bad with reference to some third thing that adjudicates between it and the good. What is good is good in itself, and those who cannot sense this are among those who belong to that majority of men whom Aristotle dismisses as bad. To be sure, this is not to say that those whose gifts lie elsewhere are for that reason bad, as pseudo-intellectuals think, making themselves out to be great by comparison. For if they are exposed to the charms of philosophy, they may very well respond with liking, just as going for a good run might be invigorating without my being an Olympian, or aspiring to be. If they had leisure, they might frequent classes, but they have to earn money for a living. In a way, this concession to a reality that we most of us face is philosophical most of all, recognizing truth where the academic fails to, should he have inherited money and be at leisure, as Plato was. He conceived divine ideas that are pleasurable to tarry with, as it is pleasurable to tarry with art should one be educated in how to think about it, but practical concerns are ultimately more pressing for everyone than this, even for the aristocrat, who is obligated to concede to force majeure no less than the next man.