Charmides, in real life, was a prominent Athenian who made some very bad choices and came to an unhappy end. In the chaos that followed Athens’ defeat by Sparta in the Peloponnesian Wars, he aligned himself with an oligarchy that came to be known as the Thirty Tyrants. The Tyrants established a brutal pro-Spartan dictatorship that ruled Athens for eight months in the year 403 B.C., drove a great many Athenians into exile, and killed off 5 percent of the remaining Athenian population while they held power. Charmides served the Tyrants to the bitter end, and was killed fighting pro-democracy forces in the Battle of Munichia.
Knowledge of those circumstances would have imparted a decided sense of pathos to the original readers of Plato’s dialogue Charmides; for in that dialogue, Charmides is still a young man. Good-looking and intelligent - the proverbial cynosure of all eyes - Charmides seems to have a bright future ahead of him. Like other Platonic dialogues, Charmides takes on additional significance when one knows the historical context against which the dialogue was written.
The nominal subject of this Socratic dialogue is temperance. Yet temperance, in this work, has a different meaning from the one that the Romans later bequeathed to the rest of the West – a meaning that tends to focus on exerting a proportional degree of control over one’s temporal appetites. Indeed, the meaning is sufficiently different that translator Jowett mentions that the original Greek term could also be translated as “moderation” or even “wisdom.”
As one often sees in Socratic dialogues, Socrates politely and persistently asks questions of his interlocutor, in order to establish that said interlocutor’s easy working definitions of a key concept are incomplete and need refinement. As the dialogue begins, in the Palaestra (wrestling school) of one Taureas, Charmides is seeking treatment for a headache, and asks Socrates for help. In response, Socrates quotes the philosopher-demigod Zamolxis “that as you ought not to attempt to cure the eyes without the head, or the head without the body, so neither ought you to attempt to cure the body without the soul”.
Continuing with his invocation of the ideas of Zamolxis, Socrates tries to persuade Charmides that they should pursue the health of the soul before worrying about something as “trivial” as a headache:
For all good and evil, whether in the body or in human nature, originates, as he declared, in the soul, and overflows from thence, as if from the head into the eyes. And therefore, if the head and body are to be well, you must begin by curing the soul; that is the first thing. And the cure, my dear youth, has to be effected by the use of certain charms, and these charms are fair words; and by them temperance is implanted in the soul, and where temperance is, there health is speedily imparted, not only to the head, but to the whole body….“For this,” [Zamolxis] said, is the great error of our day in the treatment of the human body, that physicians separate the soul from the body.”
I have a number of friends who experience frequent and severe headaches; and if one of them reported a headache to me, I would try to help them with their headache first, and would defer until a later time any discussion of the ideas of Zamolxis. But I understand that all this is a convention of the Platonic dialogue – setting the scene with a bit of characterization, before getting to the heart of the matter: in this case, the definition of temperance.
Charmides, in response to Socrates’ gentle prompting, dutifully tries to provide a number of successive definitions of temperance, only to find that Socrates can point out a problem with each definition. First, Charmides suggests that “temperance [is] doing things orderly and quietly – such things, for example, as walking in the streets, and talking, or anything else of that nature. In a word…I should answer that, in my opinion, temperance is quietness.” But, Socrates points out, there are many occasions in life – boxing, wrestling, playing a musical instrument – when it is better to be quick, and to make a bit of noise, rather than being slow and quiet.
Charmides tries again, stating that “My opinion is, Socrates, that temperance makes a man ashamed or modest, and that temperance is the same as modesty.” But Socrates evokes Homer’s statement (from the Odyssey) that “Modesty is not good for a needy man,” and thereby induces Charmides to admit that modesty is not always an absolute good.
As often happens in Plato’s dialogues, another co-respondent breaks in when the first seems to be flailing. And in the Charmides, the second co-respondent is Critias. Like Charmides, Critias would join with the Thirty Tyrants; unlike Charmides, who held a relatively minor position within the Tyrants’ regime, Critias was a leading Tyrant, notorious for his bloodthirsty approach to his work. Situational irony abounds, as Socrates quietly discusses temperance, moderation, and wisdom with two future tyrants.
Critias clearly thinks that he has the upper hand in the dialogue when he states that “temperance I define in plain words as the doing of good actions”, and adds that “self-knowledge would certainly be maintained by me to be the very essence of knowledge, and in this I agree with him who dedicated the inscription ‘Know thyself!’ at Delphi.”
But Socrates, as is his wont, slowly and carefully leads his co-respondent into a logical contradiction – a rhetorical trap from which there is no escape. He asks Critias, “[I]s not the discovery of things, as they truly are, a good common to all mankind?” Critias agrees, and adds that “wisdom is the only science which is the science of itself”. Socrates responds, “Then the wise or temperate man, and he only, will know himself, and will be able to examine what he knows or does not know, and to see what others know and think that they know and do really know; and what they do not know, and fancy that they know, when they do not.”
But then Socrates suggests that, as there can be no sense of sense itself, and no desire of desire itself, so the idea of a “science of science itself” is a logical contradiction – a case of begging the question – and suggests further that “wisdom, or being wise, appears to be not the knowledge of the things which we do or do not know, but only the knowledge that we do or do not know”. Critias is compelled to agree.
Like many of Plato’s Socratic dialogues, the Charmides concludes with an admission that any concept – in this case, temperance – is more complex and difficult to define than was originally assumed, and that further philosophical inquiry will be necessary. The dialogue concludes with Critias making Charmides promise to be a faithful follower of Socrates – though the promise is expressed in a strange and rather menacing way, considering that both Critias and Charmides would one day become co-conspirators in the formation of a bloody and violent tyranny:
You, sirs, I said, what are you conspiring about?
We are not conspiring, said Charmides, we have conspired already.
And are you about to use violence, without even going through the forms of justice?
Yes, I shall use violence, he replied, since he orders me; and therefore you had better consider well.
But the time for consideration has passed, I said, when violence is employed; and you, when you are determined on anything, and in the mood for violence, are irresistible.
Do not you resist me, then, he said.
I will not resist you, I replied.
On that ambiguous note – one that points ahead from the time in which the dialogue is set, toward a singularly unhappy future for the Athenians – the Charmides ends.