What Socrates’ “I Know Nothing” Actually Means
A phrase with layers of cynicism and despair.
Everything has a component behind its essence, a complex division of possibilities. The relations it forms are adjacent to time and space. There are many ways to see the world in this realm, but they’re all confined to those two principles. Why are things the way they are? This is the question everyone stopped asking.
Over the past few weeks I have finally began to understand Socrates’ most powerful dictum, “I know nothing”, in its entirety. Most interpretations of the quote are wrong. It is not a humble acknowledgement of our limits as a species to understand the world around us. The true meaning behind the phrase is of existential despair. Socrates was not saying he knows nothing as a wise old fool achieving enlightenment, but as the soul of a tortured genius who wanted to conquer the universe and instead saw the futility of it all. The expression “conquer the universe” in this context is meant to represent the idea of intellectual supremacy, to know everything and everyone in the most succinct and perfect form.
To better illustrate what Socrates meant, I believe it is appropriate to look at the job of a surgeon. This individual probably spent well over 20 years studying, practicing, and honing the skills necessary to perform such a delicate and complex procedure and be the absolute best he can be, but he is nowhere close to understanding the entire complexity of the human body, or be a complete given expert on every part of it. And to top it all off, his knowledge will not save him from facing the horrid and defiant despair of death. No matter how much he learned and achieved throughout his whole career, there will always be something he doesn’t know, something that will evade his peripheral. This is the kind of despair Socrates felt, the very despair that hit the core of the very fiber of his being.
In my case, the despair has been in my innate passion for observing practically everything that makes the world function the way it is. The simple subject of music has an infinite number of possibilities in the discussion with just the topic of sound and what it represents. Yet, excluding this topic, you still have over a vast infinite amount of information on practically everything else, from its history to its users to its listeners. It’s a never-ending spiral that will get you nowhere. The greatest saxophone player that ever lived still only knew saxophone and limited his skills and knowledge to its use. This is an inherent trait present in practically every other field, from movies to business to politics and science. No true individual will ever know all that there is to know, even on the very thing they’re considered an expert of.
On the more personal side, this kind of lament happens to me when confronted with the amount of books, films, stories, and ideas I want to explore. The number will never decrease. More and more topics and subjects will pop up over time. The flow and outpour will be unstoppable, and the only way to end it is for the unthinkable to happen. Even so it will never be complete. I will never know the specific details of every movie or television show ever made, or the complete material of a given artist or era of music. You can mathematically model a possibility for this scenario and only further prove the point when you consider the amount of topics will be endless. At this point you’re better off watching a movie with a cup of tea.
When one truly thinks about the implications and ramifications of this idea it’s very difficult not feel some sense of despair. I find it hard to believe this wasn’t what Socrates felt when he first encountered it. The Socrates most of us know is the one depicted in the works of ancient philosophers such as Plato. They present the image of a cunning old man capable of dissecting and observing life to its most minute detail. Very little is known about his earlier life, but we can assume that a man who made a living discussing the most important subjects of existence arrived at that knowledge through some very interesting means. Nevertheless, we have an entire blueprint to how life was back in Ancient Greece which can give us an even better picture.
Life in ancient times was harsh and overwhelming right from the start. Established societies still suffered from malnutrition and constant warfare; life expectancy was around 45 to 55 years, and the lack of modern medicine and industrial advancements meant everything was slow and painful to a pulp. This was the world according to Socrates; anyone under these conditions can very well expect to have a tough time practically every day regardless of commodities. The very few who had some type of comfort were in constant peril of losing it, and even so misfortune was just around the corner.
These conditions enhanced Socrates explorations about life, they colored them with a hint of cynical irony that completely devoted itself to pointing out how absurd everything is. We want to know everything yet are completely useless in overcoming aspects of our nature. Socrates was vividly aware of these faults to the point of constantly mocking our efforts to understand it. “I Know Nothing” is meant to represent the white flag, the final confession of a man destroyed by his own quest yet very much laughing at his current predicaments. It’s better to look at a mirror and laugh than the sky and cry.
There’s nothing else to the expression folks. It’s a lamentation disguised as a deep understanding of human nature. It’s the ultimate paradox inducing phrase ever uttered, because at some point you think it’s a joke Socrates made at the expense of others or about himself. The damn thing is Schrodinger’s equation in literal terms, a never-ending puzzle of possibilities that all mean one thing: who cares, we’re all having fun here, or at least trying to.