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A Socratic Seduction: Philosophical Protreptic

in Plato’s Lysis
BENJAMIN A. RIDER
Department of Philosophy and Religion
University of Central Arkansas
brider@uca.edu
Abstract
In Plato’s Lysis, Socrates’ conversation with Lysis (207d–11c) features logical falla-
cies and questionable premises and closes with a blatantly eristic trick. I show how
the form and content of these arguments make sense if we interpret them from the
perspective of Socrates’ pedagogical goals. Lysis is a competitive teenager who, along
with his friend Menexenus, enjoys the game of eristic disputation. Socrates recognizes
Lysis’ predilections, and he constructs his arguments to engage Lysis’ interests and
loves, while also drawing the boy into thinking philosophically about the issues that
the arguments raise about love, freedom, and happiness.
Keywords: Plato, moral education, protreptic, Socrates, eristic
Plato’s Lysis poses many challenges for an interpreter. Socrates’ arguments

in the dialogue are at times disjointed and fallacious, quite often confus-
ingly abstract and inconclusive. Of course, poorly supported and inconclu-
sive arguments are not uncommon in Plato, but the Lysis seems to have
more than its fair share.1 What is particularly troubling, however, is that
Socrates carries on this discussion with interlocutors who are just about
1
George Grote (1888, vol. 2), reports that some prominent German scholars of his
time went so far as to reject Plato’s authorship of the dialogue: ‘Ast and Socher
characterize the dialogue as a tissue of subtle sophistry and eristic contradiction,
such as (in their opinion) Plato cannot have composed’ (184, fn. 2). Others, such
as Schleiermacher and Hermann, although accepting its authenticity, considered it
to be a very early work, marked, as Grote puts it, with the ‘adolescentiae vestigia’
(ibid). Among more recent scholars, both Cornford (n.d.) and Guthrie (1975) give
similarly dim evaluations. ‘Even Plato can nod,’ Guthrie (infamously) wrote of the
dialogue.
apeiron, vol. 44, pp. 40–66

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A Socratic Seduction: Philosophical Protreptic in Plato’s Lysis 41
the youngest and most vulnerable characters he meets in Plato’s work.2 One
cannot help but be reminded of the charges Socrates eventually faced in his
trial: Is he helping or hurting these boys by talking to them in this way?
In this essay, I offer an interpretation of Socrates’ actions in the Lysis
from the perspective of his dialectic and pedagogical goals, focusing on his
one-on-one dialogue with Lysis in the first half (207d–11c). Notably, So-
crates describes his conversation with Lysis as a demonstration of the
proper sort of seduction – he showing the love-struck but clueless Hip-
pothales ‘how one ought to talk to one’s beloved’ (210e2–3; also 206c).3
It soon becomes clear, however, that Socrates is seducing Lysis not for sex,
but rather to draw him into a philosophical friendship.4 Socrates wants
Lysis (and later, his friend Menexenus) to begin to think more philosophi-
cally about his life and relationships. But if he is to do this effectively, his
conversations must engage and get a grip on what Lysis himself really cares
about. I contend that this goal influences both the form and the content
of Socrates’ arguments. Socrates recognizes what Lysis loves and cares
about, and he uses these motivations – Lysis’ relationship with his parents,
friendship with Menexenus, and fondness for disputatious, eristic argu-
ments – to spur the boy into the activity of philosophy.
1 The opening of the dialogue

The topic of the Lysis is love, broadly conceived – whether it be the erotic
love that a lover has for his beloved (his paidika, [205a–6c]), the love
parents have for their children (Lysis’ parents’ love for him [207c], a par-
ent’s love for her baby [213a]), the loves that people exhibit in their pur-
suits of impersonal things (philosophy, love of horses, etc. [212d–e]), or
the love shared by friends (such as between Lysis and Menexenus [207c,
211d–12a]). The topic seems so broad, in fact, that the unity of the dialo-
gue, and its efficacy at addressing its question, are interpretive problems.5
2
According to Scott (2000), Lysis and Menexenus are probably about twelve or thir-
teen (52). The only character in Plato’s dialogues who is possibly younger is the slave
boy in the Meno.
3
Translations of the Lysis are my own, using Burnet (1903) with help from Penner
and Rowe (2005).
4
See Lysis 211a; 211d–12b; 223b. On the topic of philosophical friendship in the
Lysis, see Tessitore (1990), Gonzalez (1995), and Scott (2000).
5
Grote writes, ‘In truth, no one general solution is attainable, such as Plato here pro-
fesses to search for. … In what manner does one man become the friend of another?
How does a man become the object of friendship or love from another? What is that
object toward which our love or friendship is determined? These terms are so large,
that they include everything belonging to the Tender Emotion generally’ (1888:
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42 Benjamin A. Rider
But most commentators agree that the dialogue is about love (or attrac-
tion) in some broad sense. Perhaps the dialogue seeks to explain and unify
the disparate kinds of love that characterize human life.6
In accordance with this topic, Plato frames the Lysis as a contrast be-
tween the incompetent, self-centered love of the panderer and the more
correct, ‘genuine [gnêsios]’ love (222a6–7) represented here by Socrates.
The incompetent, pandering lover is Hippothales. When the Lysis opens,
Socrates is traveling across town when he meets two older youths, Hip-
pothales and Ctesippus. Hippothales, it turns out, is in love with a young-
er boy, Lysis. According to Ctesippus, however, Hippothales has no idea
how to approach Lysis. So far, he has been making up silly songs and odes
praising Lysis’ father and ancestors. Socrates offers to give Hippothales a
demonstration of how he ought to behave, and how to have a conversa-
tion with Lysis.
Two problems with Hippothales’ approach are obvious straight off.
First, his songs and poems focus only on Lysis’ external features – accord-
ing to Ctesippus, he has been singing about Lysis’ father and grandfather,
and even about the mythic history of his family (205c–d). Hippothales
has not written about Lysis himself at all, not even about his physical
beauty.7 On hearing Ctesippus’ account, Socrates tells the hapless lover,
‘More than anything, these songs refer to you’ (205e). According to So-
crates, Hippothales is congratulating himself on loving a noble boy, and
his songs are not about Lysis at all.
The second problem with Hippothales’ approach is that boys so treat-
ed tend to ‘be filled up [empimplantai] with proud and boastful thoughts’
(206a4). They come to think that they are better than they really are. Of
course, this is bad even for Hippothales, because if Lysis gets puffed up
and arrogant he will be harder for Hippothales to seduce (206a–b). In
addition, Hippothales runs the risk of ruining Lysis with his flattery. Hip-
pothales is an illustration of the corrupting flatterer mentioned in Repub-
lic 6 as a reason philosophically talented youths fail to realize their poten-
186–8). Robinson (1986) is more specific – he argues that because Socrates is seek-
ing to account for ‘two separate phenomena’ – one-way attraction and mutual friend-
ship – his search cannot succeed (79–81).
6
According to one common line of interpretation, Plato uses the Lysis is to distinguish
kinds of love, as Aristotle does in Nic. Eth. VIII–IX. See, e.g., Hoerber (1959), Pangle
(2001), Jenks (2005). However, many commentators think that Plato is searching for
a theory that unifies and accounts for all of the various manifestations of love and
attraction in our lives: see Versenyi (1975), Tessitore (1990), Gonzalez (1995), Re-
shotko (1997), Penner and Rowe (2005), and Justin (2005).
7
Tessitore (1990) writes, ‘Hippothales is drawn to Lysis by what is most visible and
most public; it is his apparent lack of access to Lysis’ soul that makes Hippothales
ridiculous in the eyes of his companions’ (116).
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tial.8 He is not a bad guy. He wants to learn, if only so that he can be

more successful in convincing his beloved to love him back (to become
‘prosphilês’ [206c3]). Nevertheless, he is ignorant, and ignorant people can
do a lot of damage without meaning to.
By contrast, Socrates seeks to demonstrate how a lover should ap-
proach his beloved. Socrates ‘has a conversation [dialegesthai]’ with Lysis,
not about him with others (206c6–7). Most importantly, Socrates seeks to
see and engage with Lysis himself. Near the beginning of the dialogue, So-
crates makes a startling claim: ‘I am, myself, of mean ability, indeed useless,
in respect to everything else, but this much has been given me – I don’t
know how – from god, the capacity quickly to recognize a lover [eronta]
and an object of love [erômenon]’ (204b8–c2). He is talking about how he
can see that Hippothales is in love, but this statement neatly encapsulates
something important about how Socrates sees himself and his mission. So-
crates’ talent is to recognize people as lovers and the objects of their love.
He may be ‘useless in respect to everything else,’ but this one talent that he
has is very important, because of the fundamental role that a person’s
‘loves’ play in her motivational economy. To recognize what a person loves
is to recognize and identify something crucial about her.9 If he is to carry
out his mission, Socrates needs to identify lovers and their loves for two
reasons. First, a person must love the right things if she is to live well; for
example, if she loves and thus cares more for her possessions or body more
than her soul, she cannot be happy. Second, the things a person loves pro-
vide the motivational handles upon which Socrates needs to get a grip in
order to change her orientation. Socrates needs to engage his interlocutors’
loves, their central motivations, in order to get them to live better lives.10
**************
8
In Republic 6, Socrates describes how the very qualities that suit a person for philoso-
phy – a quick mind, a good memory, etc. – tend, in the wrong circumstances, to
corrupt and drag him away from true philosophy (491b–4d). One threat is from
flatterers, who “want to make use of [a talented youth] in connection with their own
affairs” and therefore “pay court to him with their requests and honors, trying by
their flattery to secure for themselves ahead of time the power that is going to be
his.” Because of this, the boy comes to be “filled with impractical expectations” and
“exalt[s] himself to great heights and [is] filled up [empimplamenon] with pretension
and pride that is empty and lacks understanding” (494a–d).
9
Cf. Laches 187e–8a: Nicias warns Lysimachus that Socrates forces those who con-
verse with him to ‘submit to answering questions about himself concerning both his
present manner of life and the life he has lived hitherto. … Socrates will not let him
go before he has well and truly tested every last detail.’
10
Compare the true art of rhetoric described in the Phaedrus: ‘Since the nature of
speech is in fact to direct the soul, whoever intends to be a rhetorician must know
how many kinds of soul there are. … The orator must learn all this well, then put his
theory into practice and develop the ability to discern each kind clearly as it occurs in
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So what kind of boy is Lysis? What does he love, and how can So-
crates get a motivational grip on him? Plato gives us important clues about
the answer to these questions in Socrates’ opening exchange with Lysis
and his friend, Menexenus. In accordance with a plan they devise, So-
crates, Ctesippus, and Hippothales enter the wrestling school, and Socrates
and Ctesippus lure first Menexenus and then Lysis to a quiet corner for a
conversation. Once Socrates has the boys together, he asks them some
questions. He asks, ‘Which of the two of you is older?’ It is not unusual
for an adult to ask children about their age, but Menexenus’ response is
strange. He says, ‘We dispute about that [amphisbêtoumen]’ (207c2). But
how could they dispute about who is older? Granted, ancient Greeks did
not have birth certificates, so possibly they do not know who is older.11
Nevertheless, if neither knows, their dispute seems pointless and irresolva-
ble – no one could ever win the argument. Socrates follows up: ‘Then you
two probably quarrel [erizoit’ an] also about who is more nobly-born’ and
‘who is better looking’ (207c3, 5). Laughing, they agree (207c6). Of
course, their arguments are friendly. When Socrates asks, the boys laugh
and agree that they are friends. However, this opening exchange reveals
something about the tone of their relationship. Like many teenage boys,
they are fiercely competitive. Moreover, their competitiveness takes a parti-
cular form: They like to ‘dispute’ verbally, just for the sake of disputing.12
Socrates’ choice of words in this passage – ‘erizoit’ an’ – is significant.13
Like ‘amphisbêteô’, ‘erizô’ means ‘to dispute or quarrel,’ but it has a more
specific connotation. It suggests arguing or disputing just for the sake of it,
without regard for the truth. An ‘eristikos’ person thinks of argument as a
game or competition, which he strives to ‘win’ by any means necessary.
Socrates recognizes this, and, as we will see, he keys onto their competi-
tiveness as a way to draw them into a discussion and, eventually, the prop-
er practice of philosophy.
the actions of real life’ (271d–e). Socrates’ talent seems to be an undeveloped version
of this skill.
11
Not many commentators have noticed this. Bordt (1998) thinks the boys could not
really have been arguing about their age, since they would have known how old they
were. Penner and Rowe (2005) disagree with Bordt’s interpretation but concede his
basic point: ‘Why shouldn’t two young boys be imagined as disputing about some-
thing they knew perfectly well was indisputable, if it mattered to them enough?’ (13,
fn. 1).
12
Gadamer (1980) writes, ‘Friendship for [Lysis and Menexenus] is that naïve com-
radeship of boasting and outdoing one another in which children warm up to
each other. Still, this kind of friendship which develops in competitive comparisons
that each makes of himself with the other, contains a first, unquestioned common
ground …’ (7).
13
Cf. Penner and Rowe (2005), 14.
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They are friends, however, and, as Socrates tells them, ‘friends have
everything in common [koina ta ge philôn].’ According to Socrates’ narra-
tive, he was going to ask them who is more just and wise, when Menexe-
nus was called away to perform sacrificial duties (207c–d). The suggestion
is that Socrates wants to move the boys away from their competitiveness,
so that they use their argumentative energies cooperatively and construc-
tively. After all, justice and wisdom are common concerns among friends.
Not only do true friends help each other become just and wise, they also
have good reason to do so, since great harms (and benefits) can come from
those close to you. This is a recurring and important theme in Plato – see,
e.g., Apology 25c–e; Rep. 1.351c–2a; Lysis 214b–c.
Plato did not put this passage here by accident. This exchange repre-
sents our first introduction to two principal participants in the action,
and what Plato chooses to have them say here carries extra dramatic sig-
nificance. He is signaling to his readers how to understand Lysis and Me-
nexenus and the character of their friendship.
2 Socrates’ discussion with Lysis

After Menexenus is called away, Socrates initiates a one-on-one conversa-
tion with Lysis (207d–11c). In this passage, Socrates begins his attempt to
win Lysis over to the philosophical life. Socrates challenges Lysis’ precon-
ceptions and starts to introduce Lysis to a new way of looking at the
world. He does this, I argue, by recognizing and engaging with Lysis’ loves,
and attempting to turn them in a more fruitful direction.
This passage has attracted attention from scholars in no small part
because of the surprising thesis Socrates appears to defend: He is appar-
ently trying to refute Lysis’ belief (expressed at 207d) that his parents love
(‘philei’) him.14 Socrates argues that, in fact, neither they nor anyone else
will love Lysis unless he becomes wise (210c). But conversely, Socrates says,
if he should become wise, everyone will love and be friends with him
(210d). These conclusions have struck some scholars as wrong or even
perverse.15 Does Socrates really think Lysis’ parents do not love him, or
14
The family of Greek terms at issue here (the adjective or noun ‘philos’, and the verb
‘phileô’) resist precise English translation. In what follows I translate the verb forms
with ‘love’ and the noun forms with ‘friend’, understanding that these terms fail to
capture precisely the meaning of the Greek.
15
Penner and Rowe (2005) argue, ‘it would ultimately be hard to swallow any theory
that started by disallowing parental love’ (33, fn. 53). Roth (1995) goes so far as to
claim that parental love is the paradigm, ‘friendship in its fullest and most realized
form’ (8). See also Friedländer (1964), 94–5; Price (1989), 3. By contrast, Vlastos
(1973) contends that Socrates really does think parents do not love their children.
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that a person needs to become wise before he can be loved by others? Or

is something more going on here?
**************
Socrates begins by presenting Lysis with a puzzle: ‘Surely, Lysis, […]
your mother and father love you very much?’ (207d5–6). Lysis agrees that
they do. If they love him, they would want him to be as happy as possible
(‘eudaimonestaton’) (207d7). But surely, Socrates says to Lysis, if your par-
ents love you and want you to be happy, they would not make it so that
you are a slave and do nothing you desire. But in fact, Socrates proceeds
to show, that is exactly what they do. Lysis is not allowed to drive the
chariot (208a), control (archein) the mules (208b), or touch his mother’s
weaving (208d). In fact, he is not even allowed to control himself; he is
put under a pedagogue, a slave. On hearing this, Socrates exclaims, ‘What
a terrible thing, a free man being ruled by a slave! [ê deinon … eleutheron
onta hupo doulou archesthai]’ (208c5). The slave takes him to teachers,
who also rule him and do not let him do what he desires. Far from allow-
ing Lysis to do what he desires, Socrates says, Lysis’ parents keep him in
‘perpetual slavery to someone,’ so that he never does what he desires
(208e5–6).
Here is the schematic form of this first section, according to my re-
construction. The conclusion, C3, is not stated explicitly but is clearly im-
plied by what Socrates says:
P1. Person S loves person R only if S wants R to be as

happy as possible. (agreed)
P2. R is happy only if R does what R desires.16 (agreed)
For Plato, he argues, ‘the individual, in the uniqueness and integrity of his or her
individuality, will never be the object of our love’ (31).
16
It is somewhat unclear from the text how strong P2 and thus C1 and C2 are sup-
posed to be: Is it ‘R is happy only if R does some of what R desires’ or ‘R is happy
only if R does whatever R desires’? Not surprisingly, the difference is significant for
the logic of the argument. On the former interpretation, only some of my desires
need to be satisfied for me to count as happy; on the latter, however, I need all of
my desires satisfied. Socrates is not clear about which he means: Sometimes he ex-
presses P2 in the first, weaker form (207e1–2), sometimes in the second, stronger
form (207e7 and 208e1). So which does he intend? I think that what he must have
in mind (and is not expressing clearly) is the following: R is happy to the extent that
R can do what R desires (see below). Therefore, if none of R’s desires is satisfied, R is
not happy at all. If some are satisfied but not others, he will be somewhat happy.
However, he is ‘as happy as possible’ only if all of his desires are satisfied. This does
not fit the text perfectly, but it makes for a more reasonable theory about the relation
between desire–satisfaction and happiness than either of the extreme interpretations
of P2.
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[C1.]17 Therefore, S loves R only if S wants R to do what

R desires. (P1, P2)
[P3.] If S wants that event p happen, S allows it to
happen that p.
[C2.] Therefore, S loves R only if S allows R to do what
R desires.18 (C1, P3)
P4. But Lysis’ parents do not allow him to do anything
that he desires.
(He is kept in ‘perpetual slavery’.) (From examples)
[C3.] Therefore, Lysis’ parents do not love Lysis. (C2, P4)
Socrates’ pedagogical strategy here is interesting: Rather than lecturing Ly-

sis on responsibility, obeying his parents, and paying attention to his tu-
tors, instead Socrates engineers a role-reversal. He pretends to be the of-
fended teenager and forces Lysis to take the adult role in explaining and
defending his parents’ actions. Since Lysis does not really believe his par-
ents keep him in ‘perpetual slavery’, he has to think through Socrates’
questions and premises for himself to find a way evade the implicit con-
clusion.
So what is the way out? How should Lysis respond? In my view the
problem is in the sequence I represented as P2–C2, when Socrates argues
(or assumes – I have provided some implicit steps) that a person who
loved another would allow him to do whatever he wanted. This claim sup-
ports Socrates’ later conclusions, but it rests on a false view about happi-
ness, one that is closely related to views Plato has Socrates explicitly reject
in other dialogues, such as the Gorgias, Euthydemus, and Protagoras,
among others.
According to P2, a person is happy only if he does what he desires
(epithumei). As this idea is worked out in the subsequent discussion, So-
crates seems to be appealing to the common sense idea that a person is
happy to the extent that she does what she happens to desire at any parti-
cular time. I will call this the occurrent desire satisfaction view of happiness
(ODS). So according to ODS, if I ‘come to desire’, for example, to drive
my father’s chariot, I would be happy if and only if I do in fact drive the
chariot and no one gets in my way – i.e., if my occurrent desires are satis-
fied.19 Socrates confronts views similar to ODS in other dialogues and in-
17
Brackets mark unstated moves in the argument.
18
If my interpretation of P2 is correct (see fn. 16 above), C2 would read: ‘S loves R
only if S allows R to do whatever R desires.’ That is because P1 states that S loves R
only if S wants R to be as happy as possible. But R is maximally happy, according to
my version of P2, only if she does everything she desires.
19
‘Come to desire’ is my translation of the aorist ‘epithumêsêis’ (208a2). The aorist here
has an incipient force and emphasizes that the desire in question is one that Lysis
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variably rejects them. For example, in the Gorgias, Polus believes (and
thinks everyone agrees) that a person is happiest who is able to do what-
ever he thinks best – including exiling people and putting them to death
unjustly (466b–c, 470c–1d). He believes that the ability to do what you
think best is great power and that those who have this power, like tyrants
and orators, are the happiest of men. Socrates contests Polus’ view. He
suggests, and Polus eventually concedes, that if a person ‘has little sense
[noun mê echôn],’ it is actually not good for him to be able to do what he
just happens to desire or think best (466e10), because, in his ignorance, he
will fail to do what is actually good and beneficial for himself and so will
not get what he really wants, good things. As Socrates puts it, ‘so long as
acting as one thinks best coincides with acting beneficially, it is good, and
this, evidently, is great power’ (470a–b). If you are foolish and ignorant,
however, the freedom to do whatever you want is actually bad for you,
since you will make mistakes both about what ends to pursue and how to
achieve them.20 Polus eventually has to accept that his views about happi-
ness are mistaken (468c–e; 475e).
Socrates’ examples in the Lysis seem to call for a similar response.
After all, Lysis’ parents have good reasons not to allow Lysis to do what-
ever he happens to desire. He is not much more than a child, and chil-
dren’s desires are unreliable. Therefore, we might protest on Lysis’ behalf,
his parents do want him to be happy. They take care of him so that he
will someday have a chance to become a happy and successful adult. How-
ever, this will happen only if his parents restrict his freedom now, give
him a guardian, and make him go to classes. Presumably, they do these
things because they love him.
**************
Lysis accepts Socrates’ challenge to defend his parents’ actions. He pro-
poses that his parents treat him as they do because he has not yet come of
age (209a). He has not grown up; that is why he is not allowed to do
grown-up things. But he believes that when he grows up, his parents will
give him more responsibility and let him do what he wants.
currently has. He has not desired to drive the chariot all along; this is instead a desire
he has (perhaps capriciously) come to have.
20
This general line of argument – that an ignorant person cannot be happy, even if he
satisfies his occurrent desires – is common in Plato’s dialogues; see also Euthydemus
278e–82a; Alcibiades I 117d–18a, 133d–4a; Charmides 171d–e, 173a–4c; and Pro-
tagoras 352c–6e. In the Meno, Socrates argues that knowledge is necessary and suffi-
cient for happiness (87d–9c) but later modifies his strong conclusion by proposing
that divinely inspired true belief might also be sufficient guide for acting correctly
and being happy (96e–9d).
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Lysis’ answer is reasonable, but Socrates does not accept it. At this
point, we might expect Socrates to explain the problem with the overly
simplistic ODS conception of happiness. But he does not. Instead, he
raises questions about P4, the admittedly implausible claim that Lysis’ par-
ents do not allow him to do anything he wants. Actually, Socrates tells
Lysis, there are some things that his parents allow him to do. When they
want something read or written, they turn to him, and they also let him
do whatever he wants when it comes to tuning and playing the lyre
(209a–b). Why. Socrates asks, do they turn to him in these cases, but not
the others? With Socrates’ help, Lysis eventually answers: ‘I imagine that
it’s because these are things I know [epistamai], whereas the others I don’t’
(209c2). Socrates presses the point: In fact, as soon as Lysis’ father consid-
ers Lysis to be ‘thinking better [beltion … phronein]’ than he is, he will
turn everything, including himself and his estate, over to Lysis (209c).
Socrates now argues that, in fact, people generally behave this way:
They ‘will turn to [epitrepsein]’ anyone who appears to be ‘thinking better’
than others and give those people control. Indeed, Socrates proposes, and
Lysis agrees, even Lysis’ neighbor will follow ‘the same rule [horos]’ as his
father, so that when he thinks Lysis is ‘thinking better’ than himself, he
also will turn his estate over to Lysis (209d1–3). So will the Athenians,
and even the Great King of Persia (209d–10a): ‘In fact, [the Great King]
will turn everything over to us rather than to his son or himself, in any
area in which we appear to him wiser [sophôteroi] than the two of them’
(210a5–8).
P5 represents the general point Socrates seems to be making with
these examples:
[P5.] Person S will turn things over to person R in

some area of expertise A (e.g., medicine or
cookery) if and only if R appears to S to
‘think better’ or to be ‘wiser’ (than anyone
else) in A.21 (From examples)
21
I express P5 somewhat vaguely because, in the text, Socrates employs many different
terms to refer to the state Lysis must achieve in order to receive others’ trust. Lysis
begins by saying, ‘these are things I know [epistamai]’ (209c2). Significantly, however,
Socrates does not adopt Lysis’ term; instead, he uses the vaguer construction, ‘think
better [beltion phronein]’ (209c4, 209d2–3; also ‘think sufficiently well [hikanôs phro-
neis]’ at 209d5, ‘think more beautifully [kallion phronoumen]’ at 209e2, and ‘think
correctly [orthôs phronein]’ at 210a4). Then, at 210a7, Socrates shifts to ‘wiser [sophô-
teroi]’, followed by ‘phronimoi’ (210b1), and finally, at 210b6, ‘possess intelligence
[noun … ktêsômetha]’. Why does Socrates use so many different terms in a way that
conflates seemingly important distinctions? It seems to me that Socrates is expressly
avoiding giving a specific name to what he thinks Lysis should pursue.
#2104169 APEIRON 1/2011
At Socrates’ prompting, Lysis agrees that this ‘rule [horos]’, which his
father uses when deciding to pass down his estate, is one that everyone else
follows as well. Control and freedom are granted not because of age, fa-
mily connections, or social standing, but because of the apparent quality
of the person’s thinking.
On the face of them, the claims to which Lysis agrees in this passage
seem counterintuitive or even false. Would Lysis’ father, Lysis’ neighbor,
and the Great King of Persia really follow the ‘same rule’ in deciding how
to assign responsibility for their property? We would not think so. A father
passes his estates on to his sons because of their relationship and family
connections. However, none of the others have this relationship with Lysis.
On the contrary, Lysis’ neighbor and the Persian King would have the
same reason to turn things over to their own sons, rather than to Lysis.
Bordt (2000) claims that Socrates’ examples here are meant to be ab-
surd, because Socrates is constructing a reductio of the idea that utility is
sufficient for philia. He writes,
The first example seems rather straightforward: His father will allow him to run
the household if Lysis is competent to do so. … But now Socrates claims that Lysis’
neighbor will do exactly the same; this already sounds weird … The last examples
are as funny as they are absurd: The king of the Persians will of course never allow
Lysis to throw ashes in the eyes of his son, nor will he allow him to put tons of
salt in the soup. … Utility is not a sufficient condition [for friendship]. (161)
I do not entirely agree with Bordt on this point. For one thing, it is impor-
tant to remember that the Greek terms at issue here – particularly phileô
(‘love’; ‘be friends with’) – have broader meanings in Greek than a transla-
tion might suggest. Thus, it may not be obviously absurd, in Greek, to sug-
gest that a king could be ‘philos’ to the man who heals his son. More impor-
tantly, I do not think Socrates’ examples, taken individually, are obviously
absurd. On the contrary, taken in isolation, the examples make a certain
amount of sense. A wealthy estate owner like Lysis’ neighbor might well
hire a manager to oversee his property (an epitropos), and he would look for
someone who is competent and useful. The same goes for the Athenians
when selecting leaders, and the Great King when hiring cooks, doctors, and
governors. Finally, if ashes could heal his son’s eyes, the King would be hap-
py. All else being equal, they all want someone who can do the job.
Socrates’ examples are humorous. All the same, I would argue that
they sound ‘weird’ or counterintuitive not because these things could not
happen, but rather because Socrates juxtaposes and assimilates such see-
mingly different cases. He treats the attitude of Lysis’ father toward his
son as somehow equivalent to a business relationship, to hiring a house-
hold manager or cook. Despite some external similarities, however, these
cases are (presumably) fundamentally different. Lysis’ father (we suppose,
anyway) loves and feels oikeios to his son. The others do not. He wants his
#2104169 APEIRON 1/2011
son to be happy (207d). The others do not care at all about this unknown
boy’s happiness. Socrates, however, claims that they act by the ‘same rule’,
thereby creating the puzzle.
**************
At 210d9–c5, we reach the climax of the exchange, when Socrates
draws sweeping conclusions from the previous discussion:
With respect to those areas in which we become wise [phronimoi], everyone will turn
things over to us, Greeks or non-Greeks, men or women, and in these areas we will
do what we want, and no one will be willing to get in our way, but we will be free
and in control of others, and these things will be ours, for we will benefit from
them; but with respect to those areas where we do not acquire intelligence, no one
will turn things over to us to do what we think best, but everyone will stand in our
way as much as they can, not only those who aren’t our kinsmen, but also our father
and mother and anything belonging more closely to us … (210a9–c3)
This is a dense paragraph. Here are what I take to be the main points:
C4. Therefore, if person R becomes wise in area A,

a. Everyone will turn things over (‘epitrepsousin’) to R in A.
b. R will do whatever R wants (‘boulômetha’) in A.
c. No one will get in R’s way in A.
d. R will be free (eleutheros) with respect to A.
e. R will be in control of others (allôn archôn) in A.
C5. But if R does not acquire sense or intelligence (‘noun’) in A,
a. No one will turn things over to R in A.
b. Everyone will prevent R from doing what R wants in A.
c. R will be a subject (hupêkoos) of others in A.
d. Things will be alien (allotria) to R with respect to A, for R
will get no benefit from them.
Socrates frames C4–C5 as conclusions from or elaborations on the imme-

diately preceding discussion (‘This, therefore, is how it is [outôs ara echei]’
[210a9]). However, there is a crucial difference between P5 (see 210a5–7,
etc.) and C4–C5 (210a9–b1): The examples that support P5 turn on the
idea that people trust the one who appears to think well or be wise. How-
ever, in C4–C5, Socrates drops this important qualification – they will
turn to the one who really is wise. As Plato well knows, however, appear-
ances can be deceptive. Socrates often laments how bad most people are at
distinguishing those who really are wise from those who merely appear so.
Fools can appear wise to many, while those who do know often cannot
easily demonstrate their wisdom to the common people.22
22
See, e.g., Gorgias 459a: ‘Oratory doesn’t need to have any knowledge of the state of
their subject matters; it only needs to have discovered some device to produce persua-
#2104169 APEIRON 1/2011
This gap between the appearance and reality of wisdom is indicative

of a more general problem with Socrates’ argument here: As Socrates has
constructed his reasoning, conclusions C4 and C5 seem to be made true
by what others do. That is, if Lysis becomes wise, others (the Athenians,
the Great King) will turn things over to him, let him do what he wants,
and so on. Therefore, Lysis should become wise so that other people will
let him do things. This idea is not implausible in itself. People want things
done well, and so if you acquire useful skills, they will give you a sort of
freedom of action. Nevertheless, according to this way of thinking, one
must depend on others (and their often questionable judgment) to attain
this freedom. If, as Socrates believes, people are so bad at recognizing wis-
dom, this approach seems unlikely to work consistently. Indeed, Socrates
sometimes insists explicitly that we not rest our hopes for happiness on
the actions and judgment of others – e.g., in the Crito: ‘Would that the
majority could inflict the greatest of evils, for they would then be capable
of the greatest good, and that would be fine, but now they cannot do
either’ (44d).
At the same time, parts of C4 and C5 do resonate with important
themes in Plato’s philosophy. This becomes evident if we remember the
point from the Gorgias about the dangers of doing what seems best when
you do not understand what you are doing. Happiness comes not (as
ODS claims) from doing what you happen to desire at the time (or what
seems best), but (on the contrary) from acting correctly and beneficially. It
is only by acting correctly that a person gets what he really wants, happi-
ness.23 If we apply this lesson to Socrates’ grand conclusion, we see that at
least some of its sub-conclusions can be supported on other grounds, with-
out relying on others to recognize your wisdom. Thus, (C4.b) if we do
not have wisdom, we will not get what we want (‘boulômetha’), happiness.
We will be ‘subject’ to forces out of our power (perhaps our own irra-
tional desires24) (C5.c), and we will not be free or in control of anything
sion in order to make itself appear to those who don’t have knowledge that it knows
more than those who actually do have it’ (459b–c). See also Apology 21c–e.
23
Cf. Euthydemus 278e. See also Penner and Rowe (2005), 216–30, for an account
and defense of the view that what everyone really wants is happiness, which they call
‘Socratic intellectualism’.
24
E.g., in the Gorgias, Socrates tries to show Callicles that a person who is not in con-
trol of his desires, lacking sôphrosunê, becomes enslaved to his leaky desires, while the
man with controlled desires is free (493a–494a). Socrates makes a similar point
about the tyrant in the Republic. He has lost control of his desires and become en-
slaved to them: ‘Mustn’t [the tyrannical man’s] soul be full of slavery and unfreedom,
with the most decent parts enslaved and with a small part, the maddest and most
vicious, as their master?’ (577d).
#2104169 APEIRON 1/2011
(C4.d and e). All things will be alien (allotria) to us, because, so long as
we do not have the wisdom to use them correctly, we will not benefit
from them (C5.d).25 Perhaps the most interesting suggestion in this pas-
sage is C5.b, that if we do not become wise, ‘everyone will do their best to
stop us, and not only strangers, but also our mother and father and any-
one else even more familiar (oikeioteron)’ (210c). But who is more ‘familiar
(oikeios)’ than one’s mother and father? I suggest that Socrates means that
we will prevent ourselves from achieving our purposes. The ignorant man
is his own worst enemy.26
Socrates’ conclusion therefore contains interesting ideas, some of
which evoke important arguments from other dialogues. However, So-
crates does not develop them here, while deriving them through reasoning
that (appealing to the ability and willingness of other people to recognize
and reward wisdom) seems implausible, given his usual (well-justified) pes-
simism about people’s judgment. Socrates typically contends we need to
become wise and virtuous because wisdom and virtue themselves are valu-
able and enable us to live better, regardless of what others do. (Indeed, his
main goal in the Republic is to defend this claim [see 2.358b]). It therefore
seems odd for him to argue that one ought to become wise in order to be
hired as a household manager or cook by foreign tyrants.
**************
After the climactic conclusion (C4–C5), Socrates returns to his origi-
nal question: Do Lysis’ parents love [philei] him? Socrates’ reasoning is
difficult to decipher, so I quote the whole exchange:
“And so will we be friends to anyone, or will anyone love us in those areas where
we are useless [anôpheleis]?”
“Certainly not,” he said.
“So therefore [nun ara], neither does your father love you nor does anyone love
anyone else, to the extent that he is useless [achrêstos].”
“It seems not.”
“If, therefore, you become wise, my boy, everyone will be friends to you and every-
one will belong [oikeioi] to you – for you will be useful and good – but if you do
not, neither anyone else nor your father will be friend to you, nor your mother or
others belonging to you.” (210c5–d4)
25
See Euthydemus 281a–282d, where Socrates argues that supposed goods are not actu-
ally good unless one has the wisdom to use them correctly. Wisdom alone is good in
itself.
26
Another interpretation, suggested by an anonymous reviewer, is that one’s true lover
is more familiar than one’s mother and father (e.g., as Socrates is the true lover of
Alcibiades in Alcibiades Major [131c–e]).
#2104169 APEIRON 1/2011
These are strong claims, and Socrates states them without much of a tran-
sition from what he said just before. Here is my reconstruction of So-
crates’ reasoning:
[P6.] S allows R to do what R wants (desires)

in A if and only if S turns things over to
R in A. (Unexpressed premise)
[C6.] Therefore, S allows R to do what R
wants in A if and only if R is wise (and
so useful) in A. (C4.a, C5.a, P6)27
C7. Therefore, S loves R [in area A] only
if R is wise (and useful) in A.28 (C2, C6)
P7. S allows R to do what R wants in A
only if S loves R. (Converse of C2)
C8. Therefore, if R becomes wise (and
useful) in A, everyone will love R in A. (C6, P7)
The key conclusion here is C7 (which represents 210c5–8). In order to

support this conclusion, Socrates apparently draws on the idea, represented
by C2 earlier, that if one person loves another, he will allow her to do
whatever she desires (or wants). However, since (by C6) no one allows an
ignorant and useless person to do anything, it follows that no one loves
such a person (C7). C8 – the other half of Socrates’ biconditional – re-
quires the converse of C2, represented by P7.29
However, if I am right that C7 depends on C2, this argument seems
to be subject to the same objections that afflicted Socrates’ earlier argu-
ment for C2. The basic problem, as I said before, is that parental restric-
27
The purpose of P6 is to convert the language of C4-C5 (‘turning to’) into the termi-
nology (‘allowing’) Socrates had used earlier, as represented in C2.
28
There is some question about whether, by ‘useful’, Socrates means ‘useful to the per-
son doing the entrusting’ or ‘useful to the wise person himself.’ As Vlastos (1973)
points out, the text is unclear (7). The preceding examples pull in different directions.
If what I said about Lysis’ parents and their plans for his happiness was correct, they
would want him to be useful and beneficial to himself. However, others clearly want
someone who is useful to them. Vlastos argues that when we look at the dialogue as a
whole, we see that the usefulness at stake is ‘usefulness to the person doing the en-
trusting’ (8–10).
29
Though this premise is required for his conclusion – ‘If … you become wise, everyone
will be friends to you’ (210d1–2) – Socrates does not state anything like P7, nor give
any reason to accept it. The move may be validated to some extent by Socrates’ later
arguments that x is philon to y just in case y is beneficial to x or provides something
x needs (see 215a–b, 215e, 217a–18b, 220d, 221d–e). But here, P7 seems much too
strong to accept without more argument. It is certainly not logically equivalent to
C2.
#2104169 APEIRON 1/2011
tions do not constitute sufficient evidence that a parent does not love her
child. Parents have long-range plans for their children, but they make
these plans (so we think) only because they already love and are oikeios to
their children. Although Lysis’ father may wait until Lysis seems compe-
tent to grant him control of the estate, that does not mean his father does
not love him already.
**************
With C7, Socrates claims that, if Lysis is not wise, no one will love
him. With a final flourish, Socrates brings this message home: he argues
that, in fact, Lysis really is ignorant, useless in every respect, and so unlova-
ble.30 The argument proceeds as follows (I have noted what I take to be
the steps of the argument):
“And so [P8] is it possible to think big [mega phronein] in those areas where you
are not yet thinking [oupô phronei]?”
“How could it be?” he said.
“But then, [P9] if you need a teacher, you are not yet thinking.”
“True.”
“Neither, then, [C11] are you big-minded [megalophrôn], if in fact [C10] you’re
still mindless [aphrôn].”
“By Zeus, Socrates,” he said, “I don’t think so! [Ma Dia […] ô Sôkrates, ou moi
dokei.” (210d4–8)
30
At 210c7, quoted above, Socrates says, ‘neither does your father love you nor does
anyone love anyone else, to the extent that he is useless.’ This is conditional, and so
if the antecedent is not satisfied for Lysis (if Lysis is not useless), it would not follow
that his father does not love him. Penner and Rowe (2005) suggest, at places, that
the conditional nature of the claim provides a way to avoid the conclusion that Lysis’
parents do not love him, which they think is ‘hard to swallow’ (33, fn. 53). They
write: ‘One possibility is that loving our … children … might be ‘useful’, or beneficial,
to us just insofar as it helps produce happiness for us’ (34–5). In this passage, how-
ever, Socrates argues for the antecedent. Therefore, it does not help to point to the
conditional nature of the claim, unless we can show that Socrates does not really
endorse the argument.
Bordt (2000) uses a different approach to avoiding the supposedly repugnant
claim. He writes, ‘The conclusion that Lysis is loved insofar as he is useful is logically
wrong. What is true is what Socrates states in 210c8: Lysis is not loved insofar as he
is useless. This claim is unproblematic. Parents love their son because he is their son
and not because he is useless. But in 210d1–4 [my C7] Socrates concludes from this
that Lysis can only be loved insofar as he is useful. But this doesn’t follow, of course.
Lysis doesn’t realize that Socrates is cheating here’ (161–2). Bordt’s reading of 210c8
is incorrect. ‘Kath’ hoson’ means ‘to the extent that’, not ‘because’. As a result, Bordt
misinterprets the logic of Socrates’ argument.
#2104169 APEIRON 1/2011
Socrates leaves gaps, but the general argument seems to be as follows:
P8. If y is not yet thinking [oupô phronein]

in area A, y is not thinking big [mega
phronein] in A. (Agreed)
P9. If y needs a teacher [in A], y is not yet
thinking [in A]. (Agreed)
P10. Lysis has a teacher. (Agreed earlier; see 208c)
[C9.] Therefore, Lysis is not yet thinking
[oupô phronein]. (P9, P10)
C10. Therefore, Lysis is foolish or mindless
[aphrôn] (= not wise in any area A). (C9)
C11. Therefore, Lysis is not big-thinking
[megalophrôn]. (P8, C9, C10(?))
C12. Therefore, Lysis’ parents do not love
Lysis. (210c7–8) (C7, C10)
This is not a good argument. Whatever force it has is rhetorical, not logi-
cal. Socrates exploits the similar sounds of the word phronein and its cog-
nates in order to maneuver Lysis to agree to an overly strong conclusion.
In short, if a person does not phronein, he does not mega phronein; if he
has a teacher, he does not phronein; but Lysis has a teacher, so he is aph-
rôn and not megalophrôn. Lysis agrees and does not question the conclu-
sion.
However, he should have, because the forms of phronein and phrôn in
this sequence do have entirely compatible meanings. The move from need-
ing a teacher to not phronein (P9–C9) works only if phronein means
something like ‘understand’. That is, it cannot just mean ‘thinking’ – be-
cause, after all, a student spends a lot of time thinking about his subject;
he just thinks deficiently and needs a teacher to help him to understand it.
But in ‘mega phronein’ and the corresponding adjective ‘megalophrôn’, the
root has quite a different meaning. A person who ‘thinks big’ is (when the
word is used in a positive sense) high-minded, high-spirited, or confident,
or (in a bad sense) haughty or arrogant. But it seems false that a person
needs fully to understand a subject before he can ‘think big’ in either
sense.31 A ‘high-minded’ person with big plans might well seek teachers to
31
A reservation: One could construct a Socratic argument as follows: Confidence or
high-mindedness is a virtue only if it is beneficial. But it is beneficial only if it is a
characteristic of a person with knowledge, who uses it correctly. Therefore, a person
is confident or high-minded (in a good sense) only if he has knowledge. Otherwise,
his apparent confidence is merely presumption and ignorance (‘mega phronein’ in the
bad sense). On this interpretation, P8 comes out true for Socrates. But an ordinary
#2104169 APEIRON 1/2011
help him further his big intentions. Therefore, without further argument,
a sufficiently acute Greek speaker, thinking of what the words generally
mean, would question P8 and P9. Lysis does not. He hears the same
words and he agrees.
The most important move, however, is from C9 to C10, and this
move is simply fallacious, insofar as it creates a false dilemma. Socrates
concludes, from the fact that Lysis does not yet have understanding (C9),
that he is aphrôn (C10) – foolish, silly, or mindless. Once again, the simi-
lar words carry Lysis along – you do not phronein, so you must be aphrôn
– but the conclusion does not follow. That is because there is a wide mid-
dle ground between full understanding and complete ignorance.32 Lysis is
a student, but he might be a hard-working and clever student. In addition,
as Socrates pointed out earlier, he has already learned some useful things
(209a–b). More importantly, from Socrates’ perspective, he may now ap-
preciate he lacks the wisdom he needs. Therefore, the fact that Lysis does
not phronein in the strong sense demanded by C9 does not mean he is
aphrôn. Coming where it does, after Socrates’ rapid-fire questions, this
word sounds like an insult, and Socrates brings about this result, not
through valid argument, but through wordplay.
3 Socrates’ seduction
If my reconstruction of the passage is correct, we have a puzzling interpre-
tive problem. The argument’s conclusion (C12) is counterintuitive, and
the argument itself has several questionable premises and fallacious moves,
at least two of which Plato would have recognized as such, given things he
has Socrates say in other dialogues.33 But Socrates’ most important claims
– C4, C5, C7, and C12 – depend on these flawed moves.
person like Lysis would be unaware of this theoretical background, so P8 would still
seem incorrect to a sufficiently acute Greek speaker.
32
Interestingly, the Stoics deny that there is a middle ground: For them, everyone is
either a Sage with complete understanding or completely foolish (aphrôn) and vi-
cious. But, in the Apology, Socrates clearly distinguishes at least three epistemological
categories: those who fall prey to the “most reproach-worth ignorance” of thinking
they know what they do not; those who, like Socrates, recognize their own ignorance;
and the gods, who have divine wisdom (see Apology 20d–e; 23a–b). Having (and
especially seeking) a teacher could well place one in Socrates’ group (cf. Euthyphro
5a–c, where Socrates says he wants to become Euthyphro’s student). Later dialogues,
such as the Gorgias (see 508e–509b) and Meno (97a–98a), introduce further episte-
mic distinctions.
33
The derivation of C2, on the basis of ODS, and the shift from ‘appears wise’ to ‘is
wise’ in the move from P5 to C4–C5 are the two striking examples. Also, I think
that Plato is aware that the sub-argument P8–C12 is eristic. On the other hand,
#2104169 APEIRON 1/2011
Despite the problems, however, several of the significant conclusions

resonate with broader Socratic themes about wisdom and happiness. As I
mentioned above, this is particularly true of Socrates’ sweeping conclusion
at 210a–c (C4–C5). Moreover, the refutation seems to accomplish So-
crates’ stated purpose in talking to Lysis. He had wanted to humble Lysis,
to counteract the flattery of fawning lovers like Hippothales, and to get
the boy to pursue wisdom. Therefore, he ostensibly demonstrates that Ly-
sis is mindless, worthless, and unlovable, and that he needs wisdom in
order to earn his parents’ – and everyone else’s – love and trust. Lysis may
indeed end up desiring this ‘wisdom’ that Socrates extols, but Socrates pro-
duces this result with fallacious arguments based on false premises. One
might wonder: Is Lysis being tricked into desiring wisdom? How good a
start is Socrates giving Lysis in philosophy if he introduces the boy to it
by means of bad arguments?34 What kind of wisdom is he convincing
Lysis to seek, anyway?
In their 2005 study of the Lysis, Penner and Rowe argue that Socrates’
argument takes the form it does because it is ad hominem – that is, it
draws on and uses Lysis’ assumptions about happiness and power to illus-
trate the importance of knowledge. The arguments are flawed from So-
crates’ philosophical views, mostly because they rely on what they call Ly-
sis’ ‘childish conception of happiness’ – in my terms, ODS. But, they
explain:
Lysis evidently isn’t able to see where he has gone wrong, at least in the course of
the argument itself, nor are the false moves anywhere explicitly identified (so that
Lysis is, formally, refuted: by his lights, his parents don’t love him). But the splen-
did irony is that if he had seen where his difficulties are coming from, the practical
outcome of the argument would have been the same: that he needs to acquire
knowledge. (31–2)
On this reading, it is Lysis who believes happiness comes from doing what
one occurently desires and that he will be happy when others (namely,
grown-ups) give him control and allow him to make decisions. In order to
construct an argument Lysis will find convincing, therefore, Socrates uses
the boy’s own (admittedly un-Socratic) assumptions.35
some of the other questionable moves become more plausible, given typical Socratic
assumptions (of which, unfortunately, Lysis would not be aware). See, e.g., footnote
31, above.
34
Price (1989) writes of this passage, ‘It must be evident to everyone that Lysis has been
bamboozled; that, perhaps, is his real humiliation. So far, then, nothing serious has
been said to merit solemn strictures’ (3). Nevertheless, it is worth asking, from a
pedagogical point of view, why does Socrates think it appropriate to ‘bamboozle’ Ly-
sis at all? How does it help Lysis to become better?
35
See also Price (1989), 3, fn. 3; Scott (2000), 66–9.
#2104169 APEIRON 1/2011
I agree with this interpretation, as far as it goes. Undoubtedly, Socrates

chooses his examples, premises, and approach in order to engage Lysis’
worldview. Even so, it seems to me that this interpretation still misses an
important dimension of Socrates’ strategy. Socrates is trying to change Ly-
sis’ life, and to do this, he needs to do more than just convince the boy to
pursue instrumentally marketable skills like estate management or cookery.
He needs to engage Lysis in the activity of philosophy, to get him started
in the hard work of actually thinking about philosophical questions for
himself. Two passages provide important clues about Socrates’ deeper
strategy: The opening sub-argument (my P1–C3), and the apparently eris-
tic argument with which the passage ends (P8–C13).
In the first phase of the argument, as we saw, Socrates poses a puzzle.
Lysis believes his parents love him. But Socrates vividly describes the many
ways they limit his freedom, which raises the question: Would they treat
him this way, apparently no better than a slave, if they truly loved him?
With remarkable rhetorical flourish, Socrates forces Lysis to take the adult
role and defend his parents’ actions. In responding to this challenge, Lysis
begins, gradually, to rethink his assumptions about parental love, freedom,
and happiness. At first he does not know what to say, but eventually, at
Socrates’ prompting, he sees that his level of knowledge or quality of
thinking has a role in how his parents treat him.
I suggest that Socrates’ provocative conclusion that Lysis’ father does
not love him (at 210c7–8, my C12) poses a similar challenge. Socrates
chooses the target of his refutation very deliberately: Lysis’ belief in his
parents’ love and his trust in them is a major foundation of his young life.
Moreover, he really wants to earn their respect and trust in turn. As a
result, he cannot take Socrates’ conclusion lightly or shrug it off. Given
the importance of this relationship, he can hardly help rethinking Socrates’
argument and its presuppositions to see if its paradoxical conclusion might
be true. In fact, given this goal, it does not even matter if C12 is true.36 Its
effect on Lysis – getting him to think – is the same.
Indeed, Socrates gives Lysis a lot to think about. In addition to the
claims I mentioned that resonate with Socratic themes (especially in C4
and C5), the passage itself provides a wealth of philosophical puzzles.37
36
Commentators disagree about Plato’s attitude toward C12. Some argue that it is his
position (Vlastos [1973], most prominently). However, others, including Price
(1989), Penner and Rowe (2005), Bordt (2000), and Jenks (2005), argue that So-
crates cannot really endorse C12; instead, the conclusion functions as part of a reduc-
tio of earlier premises in the argument. I am not sure which interpretation is correct,
but, in the end, I do not think it matters. The counterintuitive conclusion serves its
protreptic function either way.
37
For an interpretation of the Lysis primarily as a source of philosophical puzzles, see
Adams (1992).
#2104169 APEIRON 1/2011
The puzzle about happiness and doing what you desire (in the argument
P1–C3) is one example. But there are others. For instance, would Lysis’
father and the Great King of Persia use the ‘same rule’ in deciding how to
dispose of their property? What distinguishes these superficially similar
cases, when, in both, one person turns to another because the latter ap-
pears wise? Why is wisdom valuable, if not (primarily) to earn the trust of
others? What kind of wisdom ought we to seek? What is the relationship
between usefulness and love? Throughout the passage, Socrates creates
paradoxes by juxtaposing situations where superficial similarities mask dee-
per differences (e.g., the parents’ treatment of slaves versus their treatment
of their son) leaving it to Lysis to sort things out.
In fact, it is important to remember that, ultimately, the dialogue’s
puzzles are meant not for Lysis (who may or may not be able to compre-
hend them), but for Plato’s readers. Like Lysis, the reader of the dialogue
is also puzzled by this argument and its counterintuitive conclusions. If
true, its conclusions apply no less to her than to Lysis. Plato also knows
that his readers, who are still learning (and ‘need a teacher’), will find they
are not much better off than this boy. Reading the dialogue, we wonder
whether we are worth loving or belong (oikeios) to anyone.38 As the con-
tinued interest in the Lysis demonstrates, we are drawn into Socrates’ puz-
zles just as Socrates hopes Lysis will be.
**************
Another important clue about how to interpret the conversation
comes in the closing eristic argument and Lysis’ response to it. As I argued
above, the force of this sub-argument is rhetorical, not logical. Socrates
uses similar sounding words to maneuver Lysis into an extreme and un-
warranted conclusion, which comes, in the context, as a sort of verbal
take-down. He effects this conclusion through puns that elide semantic
distinctions. The tone of the passage is evocative of some of the tricks
used by the sophist brothers in the Euthydemus, such as the passage where
Euthydemus maneuvers Ctesippus into the conclusion that a dog is his
father (298d–e).39 Lysis stands no chance against these tactics.
38
Gordon (1999) nicely describes the reader’s response to many of Plato’s dialogues:
‘The dialogues encourage the reader quite literally to play a role in the drama, to
interact with it and to philosophize along the way. Insofar as we play a role in the
drama, we must ask questions of ourselves, not only the same questions put to the
interlocutors by Socrates, but other questions that take us beyond those: Do I know
what (virtue, piety, courage) is? Am I arrogant in the way (Meno, Euthyphro, Laches)
is? What could Socrates mean by these strange claims? … The dialogues in this way
engage the reader in question and answer.’ (52)
39
Euthydemus concludes, ‘Since he [the dog] is a father and is yours, the dog turns out
to be your father, and you are the brother of puppies, aren’t you?’ (298e). Socrates
and Euthydemus use different fallacies: Euthydemus exploits the semantic incomple-
#2104169 APEIRON 1/2011
Why does Socrates argue in this way? Part of it, of course, is that he
is, as he imagines saying to Hippothales, ‘humbling [tapeinounta]’ Lysis
and ‘cutting him down to size [sustellonta]’ (210e). He is counteracting
the flattery of Hippothales and Lysis’ other lovers, showing the boy that
he is not as great as they say he is. Nevertheless, I think this is only part
of Socrates’ strategy. Even as he is humbling Lysis, Socrates is trying to
draw the boy in a new direction.
The clue to understanding Socrates’ strategy here – and, to some ex-
tent, the discussion as a whole – is in Lysis’ response to the argument. He
has just been told his parents do not love him, that he has no friends,
and, to top it all off, that he is ‘mindless’. However, he is not angry or
upset. He is surprised: ‘By Zeus,’ he exclaims, ‘it doesn’t seem so to me!’
Nevertheless, he has not lost his good spirits, since as soon as Menexenus
returns, he asks Socrates, ‘in a very boyish and friendly way [mala paidikôs
kai philikôs],’ to play the same trick on his friend (211a). Socrates tells
him to do it later himself: If you paid attention, he says, you should be
able to tell him what I told you. Lysis agrees but still wants Socrates to
talk to Menexenus, so he can see Socrates ‘punish [kolasêis]’ his ‘eristikos’
friend (211c). Lysis’ reaction fits a boy who has been beaten in an enjoy-
able game, not one who has been told off or humiliated by an elder.
At this point, it is worth remembering how Plato introduced Lysis and
Menexenus into the dialogue. Their initial answers to Socrates’ questions
emphasized that they like to argue and ‘dispute [erizein]’ with each. The
description of Menexenus as ‘eristikos’ confirms this characterization. My in-
terpretation is that Socrates is using the information he had obtained earlier
for his educational purposes. Knowing Lysis’ eristic predilections and the
boys’ practice of arguing about trivial things, Socrates intentionally models
the argument (especially its final flourish) on an eristic refutation. He then
tells Lysis, in effect, to try out what he has learned on his friend. The techni-
que is clever, because, ideally, once the boys start going over and debating the
arguments together, they will be forced to think more carefully about the
issues and puzzles involved concerning freedom, happiness, and love. If all
goes well, they will take up the challenge these arguments pose and begin to
do real philosophy. Socrates’ exaggerated eristic argument therefore taps into
Lysis’ affinity for eristic argument and his competitive friendship with Me-
nexenus in order to instigate the boys to begin to practice real philosophy.
**************
teness of ‘father’ and ‘yours’, whereas Socrates uses similar-sounding words to disguise
a false dichotomy. For an analysis of the fallacies in the Euthydemus, see Sprague
(1962). Despite the differences, however, the tone and purpose of the arguments are
strikingly similar. In both cases, the questioner asks rapid-fire questions, hardly allow-
ing time to think, thereby forcing the answerer into an embarrassing conclusion.
#2104169 APEIRON 1/2011
According to my interpretation, then, Socrates models parts of his ar-

guments on the pseudo-philosophical games Lysis and Menexenus already
enjoy playing, as a way to initiate them into real philosophy. His argu-
ments appeal to the boys’ pre-existing interests, in order to rechannel those
interests into a more productive direction.
However, these games, as typically played, do not have serious philoso-
phical purposes. When Euthydemus and Dionysodorus ‘prove’ that Cte-
sippus’ father is a dog, or when Lysis and Menexenus ‘dispute’ about who
is older, better-looking, or more nobly born, they are not searching for
answers about the important matters in life. They are trying to outdo each
other, to build themselves up by putting each other down. Therefore, one
might wonder: If this is what Socrates is up to, is it likely to work? How
do these games lead to philosophy? And if Socrates has points to make
about wisdom and happiness, why does he not simply give clearer (and
better) arguments? The problem is that if Lysis believes the argument is
merely an eristic trick, he may not take it seriously enough to discern the
less obvious philosophical points and puzzles I discussed.
I have several responses to these questions. First, it is important to
recognize that, as in other dialogues, Socrates’ range of available tools is
limited by the capacities and inclinations of his interlocutors. Not only
must he use examples and premises his partners can understand and ac-
cept; he must also tailor his approach to match the partners’ pre-existing
motivations. That is, he has to recognize and engage with what that person
values and cares about.40 This is what Socrates does here. He taps into
Lysis’ motivations to make a connection and to get him to start thinking
about the issues. A straightforward lecture (which Lysis may have heard
many times) would be unlikely to have the same effect. Paradoxically,
then, using Lysis’ interest in eristic may be the best way to get him even-
tually to consider the issues in the right way.
Of course, this strategy will work only if Lysis sees beyond the surface
of the argument. It is for this reason, as I mentioned above, that the sub-
ject matter of the argument – parental love and trust – is so crucial. Be-
cause of its content, Socrates’ argument encourages and rewards philoso-
phical thought in a way that merely eristic arguments do not. The eristic
arguments in the Euthydemus are designed for competition, in order to
get the better of an opponent. An argument with this kind of eristic artist
is a zero sum game: He wins, you lose. Moreover, once the eristic competi-
tion is done, the competitors have a laugh and do not think more about
what was said, except perhaps to see how they themselves might use simi-
40
On the ad hominem nature of Socrates’ arguments, see Robinson (1953), Kahn
(1983), and Vlastos (1994).
#2104169 APEIRON 1/2011
lar weapons against others.41 By contrast, Socrates’ arguments about Lysis’

parents are disturbing. They upset Lysis’ basic assumptions about the
world, to such an extent that it is hard to imagine Lysis shrugging them
off and going on his way. Moreover, Socrates constructs the arguments so
that they contain substantive clues about how the puzzles can be ap-
proached. For example, he repeatedly brings up the importance of wisdom:
It is wisdom Lysis’ parents want him to have, and wisdom that makes one
useful to oneself and others. The references are vague (what kind of wis-
dom is needed, anyway?), but Lysis can use these hints as starting points
for thinking about the puzzles.
Even if Lysis were inclined to ignore or stop thinking about these puz-
zles, however, Socrates has one more important technique for keeping the
boy engaged: His suggestion that Lysis repeat the conversation later with
his friend, Menexenus. ‘Try as hard as you can to remember [the argu-
ment],’ he says, ‘so that you can tell it all to him clearly’ (211a9–b1). This
is perhaps the most brilliant and important pedagogical element of So-
crates’ strategy with Lysis. As any teacher knows, people often come to
understand and appreciate a subject best when they have to teach or ex-
plain it to others. This is why teachers design small group and peer re-
sponse activities where students teach and learn from each other – it is an
important way that people learn. With this suggestion, Socrates deftly
solves two problems at once. First, he gives Menexenus a chance to catch
up on what he missed; and, second, he sets Lysis a task where he will have
to think about – and probe more deeply into – the arguments and the key
concepts of happiness, trust, and knowledge. If all goes well, the two boys
will form a learning community, working together through the problems
and paradoxes Socrates’ arguments pose for them.
There is some evidence in the second half of the dialogue that So-
crates’ pedagogical approach is working. When Socrates first talks to Me-
nexenus, his initial sequence of questions (212b–13b) looks a lot like an
eristic refutation. By exploiting the ambiguity of the word philos, Socrates
makes it so that Menexenus will be refuted, no matter what he says. But
Lysis, who has just asked Socrates to teach his friend a lesson, is not satis-
fied with this result and agrees that they are not going about the discus-
sion in the right way (213d1). Socrates is pleased. Not only is Lysis ‘paying
close attention’ to the discussion, but he has also developed enough ‘philo-
41
In the Euthydemus, when Euthydemus or Dionysodorus win (or lose) the argument,
they press on to the next argument. They do not reflect on the consequences of their
arguments, and they refuse to be held to Socrates’ consistency requirements (287b).
Moreover, at the end, when Euthydemus and Dionysodorus achieve their (apparent)
final victory, the response is not puzzlement nor a promise for further inquiry, but
applause (303b). As Socrates puts it, their arguments ‘completely stitch up men’s
mouths’ (303e): Not only is further inquiry impossible, but they also further speech.
#2104169 APEIRON 1/2011
sophia’ to see that verbal maneuvers will not answer the real question, how
people become philoi (213d4–5, 7).42 He wants to find the answer. At
least in Plato’s story, therefore, Socrates has already begun successfully to
transform Lysis’ eristic tendencies into genuine philosophia. Socrates seeks
to nourish this incipient interest in the rest of the dialogue, while also
furnishing much more material for the boys (and the reader) to puzzle
over later and, as Socrates suggests at the end, establishing a continuing
philosophical friendship between the three of them (223b6).)
4 Conclusion
Socrates’ problem in the Lysis is one he often faces in speaking with inter-
locutors. If you know something and want someone else to believe it, you
can tell it to him. If you speak persuasively enough, he might take you at
your word. However, you face a very different task if you want the person
actually to understand what you are telling him.43 You can show him rea-
sons to believe it, but he has to work through and comprehend those
reasons for himself. (This is one lesson of Socrates’ discussion with the
slave-boy in the Meno (see esp. 85c–d).) It is another problem altogether
if you are trying not to convey something you know, but rather to show
the difficulty and importance of a problem to which you do not know the
solution (which is what philosophy teachers often must do). In that case,
the challenge is to make the problem real for the interlocutor, show how
it engages his life and concerns, and find ways to draw him into thinking
about it for himself.
This is the pedagogical challenge Socrates faces in the Lysis: What does
he do with boys like Lysis and Menexenus, if he wants them to start doing
real philosophy instead of just playing eristic games? First, he has to get
them interested. He has to appeal to what they enjoy and care about; sug-
gest to them that he can play their game; and thus seduce them into con-
versation. But then he needs to go beyond that initial hook and entice
them with something more substantial and rewarding. He needs to intro-
42
Penner and Rowe (2005) argue that Socrates praises Lysis because Lysis has recog-
nized, as Menexenus does not, the importance of knowledge for philia (62–3). This
may be true, but it cannot be the whole story, because I am not sure how ‘knowledge’
can be the answer to Socrates’ original questions. It seems more plausible that Lysis
sees that the original question itself was ill-formed, and that a different kind of ques-
tion is needed (perhaps one where knowledge can figure into the answer). Thus So-
crates’ diagnosis: ‘If we had been looking into the matter correctly, we would not
then have wandered so much’ (213d2–3).
43
Cf. Socrates’ distinction between ‘conviction-persuasion’ and ‘teaching-persuasion’ in
the Gorgias, esp. 454e–455a.
#2104169 APEIRON 1/2011
duce interesting and worthy problems and show them how they can apply
their skills in competitive argument to doing real philosophy. In this way,
Socrates begins to transform Lysis into a philosopher.
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Abstract
In Plato’s Lysis, Socrates’ conversation with Lysis features logical fallacies and
questionable premises, and closes with a blatant eristic trick. I show how the form
and content of these arguments make sense if we interpret them from the per-
spective of Socrates’ pedagogical goals. Lysis is a competitive teenager who enjoys
the game of eristic disputation; Socrates recognizes this predilection and uses it to
engage Lysis in the activity of philosophy.
Keywords: Plato, moral education, protreptic, Socrates, eristic
Note: This Abstract is slightly different to the Abstract in

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U:/p_1/apei/apei11_01/apei.2011.005/apei.2011.005u.3d vom 15.12.

A Socratic Seduction: Philosophical Protreptic

Plato’s Lysis poses many challenges for an interpreter. Socrates’ arguments

apeiron, vol. 44, pp. 40–66

A Socratic Seduction: Philosophical Protreptic in Plato’s Lysis 41

1 The opening of the dialogue

A Socratic Seduction: Philosophical Protreptic in Plato’s Lysis 43

tial.8 He is not a bad guy. He wants to learn, if only so that he can be

A Socratic Seduction: Philosophical Protreptic in Plato’s Lysis 45

2 Socrates’ discussion with Lysis

that a person needs to become wise before he can be loved by others? Or

P1. Person S loves person R only if S wants R to be as

A Socratic Seduction: Philosophical Protreptic in Plato’s Lysis 47

[C1.]17 Therefore, S loves R only if S wants R to do what

Socrates’ pedagogical strategy here is interesting: Rather than lecturing Ly-

A Socratic Seduction: Philosophical Protreptic in Plato’s Lysis 49

[P5.] Person S will turn things over to person R in

A Socratic Seduction: Philosophical Protreptic in Plato’s Lysis 51

C4. Therefore, if person R becomes wise in area A,

Socrates frames C4–C5 as conclusions from or elaborations on the imme-

This gap between the appearance and reality of wisdom is indicative

A Socratic Seduction: Philosophical Protreptic in Plato’s Lysis 53

[P6.] S allows R to do what R wants (desires)

The key conclusion here is C7 (which represents 210c5–8). In order to

A Socratic Seduction: Philosophical Protreptic in Plato’s Lysis 55

Socrates leaves gaps, but the general argument seems to be as follows:

P8. If y is not yet thinking [oupô phronein]

A Socratic Seduction: Philosophical Protreptic in Plato’s Lysis 57

Despite the problems, however, several of the significant conclusions

A Socratic Seduction: Philosophical Protreptic in Plato’s Lysis 59

I agree with this interpretation, as far as it goes. Undoubtedly, Socrates

A Socratic Seduction: Philosophical Protreptic in Plato’s Lysis 61

According to my interpretation, then, Socrates models parts of his ar-

A Socratic Seduction: Philosophical Protreptic in Plato’s Lysis 63

lar weapons against others.41 By contrast, Socrates’ arguments about Lysis’

A Socratic Seduction: Philosophical Protreptic in Plato’s Lysis 65

Renaud, François (2002) ‘Humbling as Upbringing: The Ethical Dimension of the

Note: This Abstract is slightly different to the Abstract in

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