Gottlieb’s focus is on the ancient Greeks who laid out the main themes found in Western philosophy, including whether ultimate reality is something that transcends the natural world. The Milesians (Thales, Anaximander, Anaximenes) first articulated the materialist side of this debate by dispensing with supernatural explanations and looking for the “natural causes of things.” Parmenides and Pythagoras provided an alternative reality, a world of eternal oneness that superseded the world of senses, change and multitude.
The book’s title, “The Dream of Reason,” captures this debate between these two metaphysical positions, but the meaning of “Dream” and “Reason” is ambiguous. For the Milesians and their successors, reason was about looking for the material, logical linkages between cause and effect. It was a mind frame that would lead to Western science and the progressive explanation about how the material world worked. This was one way to define the “dream of reason.”
Plato’s “reason” was the other. Here, Gottlieb’s account is problematic. “What struck Plato about the objects dealt with in mathematics,” Gottlieb writes, “is that they are ideal, eternal, unchanging and pleasingly independent of earthly, visible things.” This is the world of Forms and it’s difficult to read the dialogues without this as the overarching perspective. But Gottlieb does not go there. Socrates, the dominant voice in Plato’s dialogues, is said by Gottlieb to be a figure who is not interested in the cosmic underpinnings of philosophy. The dialogues were, he says, “generally explanatory discussions” by Socrates about how we “ought to live” and that, in a “non-dogmatic” way, Socrates was interested only in questioning established wisdom and ferreting out the truth through dialogue. Though this is the standard account of Socrates, it is counter to what Gottlieb says elsewhere and what one might gather from reading of Socrates, directly, without filters, in the dialogues. (1) For his interpretation of Socrates’ views, Gottlieb relies mainly on Plato who, he writes, put “mystical glasses on Socrates” and eventually, “coming under the influence of Italian Pythagoreans,..invoked the name of Socrates to expound on all sorts of subjects.”
Gottlieb steers his presentation on Plato away from any other-worldly orientation. Early on, commenting on the similarities between Plato’s philosophy and the Christianity that developed a few centuries later, Gottlieb notes that “the [Platonic] God of the Timaeus” could be misinterpreted as “the God of Genesis,” stating that,“Reading Plato without biblical blinkers, we can see that this required plenty of imaginative interpretation.” Gottlieb then notes the “specific differences” where this is so. While it’s not surprising that there would be differences in specific details between Genesis and Plato, it does not take “biblical blinkers” to reasonably speculate about the Christian roots in Plato's thought - the notion of another world, the badness of this world, the need to perfect our being to be worthy of an ascent to this higher world. (2) Now “the dream of reason” means something other than what Gottlieb conveys. In Gottlieb’s take on Plato, happiness is the rule of reason. It’s to “rule oneself properly.” Is that, though, about this world? Or is it about mirroring the world of Forms, of Perfection and Harmony that stand in contrast to “earthly good” and the “relativist and subjectivist Sophists?”
“For the first twelve centuries of the Christian era,” Gottlieb states, “the Timaeus formed the basis of most cosmology in the West” and “philosophy...remained more or less the slave of Christianity.” He calls this “a posthumous conversion of Plato.” From 529 A.D. (the Roman ban on non-Christian philosophy), he says that “Reason got sidetracked by faith.” Commenting on Proclus’s Elements of Theology, this was all about an attempt of “antiquity to provide an elaboration of the ‘Platonic’ system that had sprouted on Plato’s grave.” Gottlieb tells us that these reputed other-worldly elements stem from Neoplatonism, a term coined in the 19th century to refer to those religious elements that, in Gottlieb’s words, went “beyond anything found in Plato.”
In Gottlieb’s view, Plato “did little more than gesture towards a higher world.” Gottlieb rescues Plato from Christianity by having Plato’s thought reflect a more modern-day conception of reason, one that is stripped of mysticism yet alludes to an independent, objective reality nonetheless. (3) For Gottlieb, the antecedents of this modern-day perspective on Plato go back to the atomists and to Aristotle. (4) After the long Christian interlude, this tradition was resuscitated in the Renaissance and the Enlightenment, which began the process that would “replace faith with earthly reason.” In the end, the reader of Gottlieb’s book is left with the impression that the reason of Plato was reunited with the reason of science.
But it could be argued just as well that such reconciliation never happened and that a good part of the ancient debate about the two conceptions of “Reason” continues to this day. In science, this ambivalence is not consequential as reason is applied to understanding cosmic realities regardless of their ultimate origin and it’s not uncommon to learn of mathematicians and scientists who are drawn to something like Plato’s Forms. In moral philosophy, though, it is different. Some Plato adherents posit the existence of a universal and eternal moral realm, which is accessed by reason in Plato’s sense. For many, that world has been seriously undermined by modern-day science that operates, comfortably, within a purposeless universe. Without Plato’s overarching firmament, what happens then to moral philosophy? Is it the relativism of the Sophists or is it, worse, nihilism? But in a Platonic framework we are not able to look to science for answers. That’s a subjectivism that is not allowed, even though, along with the problem of self-interest, the foundation for philosophical values and principles such as freedom and equality, compassion and mutual respect are embedded in, or logically derived from, who we are as biological beings.
(1) A straight-up reading of Socrates in the dialogues can reveal a man on a mission, a man with a hidden agenda, a man who engages in one-way dialogue. In other words, not a person one might want to hang out with.
(2) Of Marsilio Ficino’s translation (1484) that “brought Plato back into circulation” Gottlieb writes that, “Like St Augustine, Ficino believed that Platonism contained important anticipations of Christianity.”
(3) See Frank M. Turner, The Greek Heritage in Victorian Britain (1981), for a discussion of 19th century efforts to rehabilitate Plato’s thought.
(4) Gottlieb is excellent in his treatment of Aristotle, correcting the misimpression given by a mechanistic conception of life that humans are not goal-driven beings: “Having Darwinian details does not mean that we can do without Aristotle’s final causes. Quite the reverse: the mechanism of natural selection spells out how nature involves final causes, not how it can dispense with them….Bacon, and many others since, have said that Aristotelian final causes are a piece of juvenile rubbish that has to be cleared out of the way before any grown-up science can move in. This may be true of the pseudo-Artistotelian final causes of some of his followers, but not of Aristotle’s own.”