The problem as defence

A form of sophistry

“The sophist is a hard kind to hunt down. He seems to have a whole supply of roadblocks, and whenever he throws one down in our way we have to fight through it before we can get to him. But now when we’ve barely gotten through the one about how that which is not is not, he’s thrown another one down and we have to show that falsity is present in both speech and belief. And next, it seems, there will be another and another after that. A limit, it seems, never appears.” (Plato, Sophist, 261a-b)

It is hard to debate a sophist. Whenever an answer is given, whenever we seem to have reached knowledge, the sophist throws up another problem that problematizes this knowledge. And once again, we are forced unto the path for knowledge. And then, when we seem to have finally reached some stable knowledge from which to build our beliefs, the sophist comes round again and offers another problem. It is tiring to debate the sophist, an end to it, “it seems, never appears.”

The sophist throws down roadblocks. For what is translated here as “throwing down roadblocks”, a form of προβάλλω is used, the root of our word “problem.” According to its root, a problem is what is thrown before, usually in defence. You see, as much as we encounter problems in reality, we have to consequently create problems. The problem of being-becoming is not only found in reality, it had to be made into a problem by a thinker. The problem of the relation between mind-body is not only encountered, it had to be posed by a philosopher. To be sure, reality itself offers us problems, it offers us “problematic” experiences. But very often, we do not know what to make of them, we do not know what the problem is in this problematic experience. I feel a pain in my chest, this appears to me as problematic. But what is the problem? There can be a myriad of problems that have led to this pain. And it requires thought to be able to pose what is truly the problem here. Of course, the rational animal he is, man makes mistakes, and more often than not, it takes a long time of positing different problems before we have found the “true problem.”

Before we have found the real problem that adequately portrays the problem found in experience, what happens? What does the individual do? He takes posited problems as real. Problems that, are not real. Yet he takes them as evident, he puts belief in them, he takes them as real. In this taking-as-real, of what is not real, has the person enlightened the problem further than before he posited any problem? Has he come closer to “the problem”, or has he, in positing the (false) problem, removed himself even further from the truth? It is the latter. Before, he was separated from the problem by his unknowing. Now he is not only separated by his unknowing, but on top of that, also by a belief of what the problem is that he takes as true.

It is now, not only unknowing that separates him from what is really going on, but unknowing + a type of knowledge. In this taking-as-evident of his posited problem (to be sure, this positing need not come from himself, it can also be given by someone else), has he made it easier or harder to find the true problem than before? He has made it harder. For in the prior moment, confronted with a problematic experience in which he knows not what the problem is, he is driven to seek what the problem is by the absence of knowledge. But now that he thinks he has found it, such a drive to seek is no longer present. Here, the posited problem is a roadblock, a defence against any further seeking of what is true. 

A primal form of sophistry, present in how we relate ourselves to problematic experience. We are all sophists, throwing up problems, which are really no problems. Throwing up problems, which defend us against the true problem. The problem, posited so as to grasp what is going on. But more often, posited, and thus preventing us from knowing what is really going on. The problems we set are often false, and serve as defences; they channel your attention to the posited problem, so you don’t see what is really going on. This is all quite natural. For in the end, if we find out the problem has not been grasped, we can adjust ourselves, and posit a new problem, thus hopefully being right the second time around. And if not, we’ll eventually get there.

As much as this can be called a form of primal sophistry vis-à-vis reality, this in itself does not make a sophist. The sophist is he who “seems to have a whole supply of roadblocks.” And after one fake problem is discarded, “he’s thrown another one down.” And after this one is discarded, there will be another, and another after that. “A limit, it seems, never appears.” The sophist is, in part, he who never has an end of defending himself against reality by positing fake problems. Inadequate problem after another, distracting our attention away from what is really going on, ad infinitum. We all posit false problems, we regret our failure, and we adjust ourselves. The sophist is he who delights in positing these false problems. He is the one, who wants to defend himself against reality. He wants to actively prevent us from getting to the true problem. And when you tell him he is wrong, and the problem he posited is not really a problem, he has another problem to posit in its place. Never willing to admit falsity. Why? Because falsity is his goal, and displacing the problem without end is his method. The sophist is of “the appearance-making kind.”(Sophist, 268c-d) The sophist is not interested in truth, he is not interested in the real problem. His sole interest is in blocking the road that leads to this real problem, by throwing up appearances of the real problem: false problems.