Who Was Protagoras? Plato Dismantles the "Dark Saying"
Recall from our last post the "dark saying" of Protagoras, "Man is the measure of all things." He spoke these words 2500 years ago, and in them is embodied the notion that whatever I may perceive and believe constitutes truth for me, and whatever you may perceive and believe is equally true for you. This is the case, even if the content of what you and I perceive and believe is totally contradictory. Truth is not objective, that is, it is not "out there" somewhere waiting to be discovered. Truth is subjective to the individual, the internal possession of each person.
In his work entitled Theaetetus, Plato pursues the problem presented by Protagoras in a fictional dialog between his characters Socrates and the bright young student Theaetetus. The broad theme of the dialog is the question of the nature of knowledge itself. Within this exchange, Socrates poses the question of whether knowledge (that is, true belief) and individual perception are really the same, setting Protagoras before us as his foil.
In a series of arguments, Plato, through Socrates, demonstrates the self-refuting nature of Protagoras’ proposal, successfully exposing its irrationality. Socrates begins his polemic against Protagoras in a tongue-in-cheek manner, suggesting that Protagoras might have been an extortionist if what he stated is true. Why was he drawing compensation for his teaching when there really is no “comparative ignorance or need for us to go sit at his feet, when each of us is himself the measure of his own wisdom” (Theaetetus, 161 d-e)? In other words, what is the point of a career in teaching if each of us is already personally in possession of the truth?
Furthermore, if knowledge and perception are the same, argues Socrates, how is it that one can recall what he has perceived even when separated from the object of his perception? If we are to accept Protagoras, then “a man who has come to know a thing and still remembers it does not know it, since he does not see it” (ibid., 164 b). This, of course, would be absurd. Finally, if what Protagoras states is true, then what he states is actually false. There are likely many who would disagree with Protagoras’ position, and he would have to concede that each person’s belief is true. Therefore, he would be compelled to grant that his belief is false. Socrates delights in this “exquisite conclusion,” asserting that
Protagoras, for his part, admitting as he does that everybody’s opinion is true, must acknowledge the truth of his opponents’ belief about his belief, where they think he is wrong. That is, he would acknowledge his own belief to be false, if he admits that the belief of those who think him wrong is true (ibid., 171 e, b).
Therefore, Protagoras’ relativistic position collapses upon itself, and is self-refuting. Plato, through his character Socrates, illuminates the “dark saying” of Protagoras and exposes it for the “sophistry” that it really is. In so doing, Plato reveals the intellectual bankruptcy of relativism.
What can we learn from Protagoras and Plato? We must never forget that Christianity is essentially a knowledge-based faith, and it is from this base that our mission is launched. The Apostle Paul was serious when he called the church “a pillar and buttress of truth” (1 Tim 3:15). And by this he meant truth that is really "out there" waiting to be discovered and communicated. We therefore fail in our ecclesiastical mission to draw people unto Christ and to speak prophetically to our culture if we neglect to proclaim boldly the single objective truth that sets men free but instead allow men to drown in the shallow pool of their own personal opinions.
How remarkable that Plato, with reason alone unaided by special divine revelation, caught a glimpse of the potentially pernicious effect of Protagoras’ doctrine 2400 years ago. No wonder Plato called Protagoras’ proposition a “dark saying.” Protagoras’ saying darkens the moral and intellectual landscape of our world once again, and many, both inside and outside the church, enthusiastically embrace the darkness. Ironically, it is by the lights of one of the greatest philosophers of pagan antiquity that our own journey home may begin.
Blessings,
Arnie Gentile
Visit the Christian Apologetics Bookshop.



Protagoras claim appears to be so easily refuted. It makes one wonder whether he denied the very existence of logic, thought, and reason in order to cling to this philosophy.
Reply to this
Very insighful comment, Michelle! Protagoras' method is precisely antilogic, and Protagoras would likely be the first one to agree. Keep in mind that the Sophists were products of their time, and their time was one of growing cosmpolitanism and recognition of diversity among states and peoples. They concluded from this diversity that there was no universal moral or intellectual standard applying to all men at all times. So they saw the highest art or virtue as the individual mastery of argumentative rhetoric. This was crucial for an individual who wanted to rise within an increasingly diverse and cosmopolitian political culture.
Protagoras therefore eschewed endeavors such as theoretical speculation on the nature of the cosmos, and trained people instead to be persuasive orators. Giovanni Reale points out that "Protagoras established his principle particularly in an empirical way, by generalizing from the observation of the opposed valuations that men give to all things and not from any outline of a systematic study of the nature of knowledge" (Reale, From the Origins to Socrates, 157-58). Hence, Protagoras sought to equip his students to successfully argue both sides of any issue, to master the art of "antilogic or controversy, the opposition of the various possible theses on a given theme...to criticize and discuss, to organize a tournament of reasons against reasons" (158).
It is not surprising then that since he denied the existence of absolute moral values, he instead encouraged his students to pursue that which was most useful or convenient. To him, the truly wise man would be the one who chose and successfuly executed the most useful, convenient, or appropriate action. In this sense, he was a pure pragmatist or utilitarian. So in some sense, he did ascribe an objective value to utility, if not an absolute value. Reale points out that for Protagoras, "good and evil are respectively the useful and the harmful; the better and the worse are the most useful and the most harmful" (160).
Of course, even at this point, Protagoras ends up begging the question. Who determines the most useful and the most harmful? If the decision is left to each man, then we have no basis upon which to praise Mother Theresa and condemn Adolph Hitler because the individual is the measure. As a pragmatist, Protagoras did not think very deeply about the nature or essence of things. This is largely why sophistry over time devolved into skepticism and what is called eristics, that is, an empty game of winning every argument without love for the truth or concern for knowledge. It became all about persuasive rhetoric for the purpose of acquiring power. Sound familiar?
Arnie
Reply to this
Sounds like Protagoras was in the business of training politicians, not very different from the ones we have today.
Reply to this
Yup...there is nothing new under the sun... Thanks for you comments, Michelle. I appreciate your participation!
Reply to this