In 1809 Russia seized Finland from Sweden. Paradoxically, perhaps, this event ensued in the first chapter of Finland’s road to independence and autonomy: the Grand Duchy, or Grand Principality, of Finland. The following hundred years featured periods of weaker and stronger Russian influence, with emperors more and less benevolent towards Finland’s relative independence. This story is important in itself – at least to the Finns – but serves, here, as a heuristic tool to introduce the topic of this collection of essays: Platonic autonomy or self-government. In general, the notion of autonomy, its different features as well as political and personal strands, poses challenges to its users. Applied to states, it refers to something approximating sovereignty of states, but falling short of it. Applied to human individuals, it can refer to at least moral, existential and personal variants, all leading to different assessments as to what, if any, normative significance it has, and whether minimal conditions can be given for it. Its Platonic version seems particularly difficult to pin down. It may even be argued that Plato does not operate with a concept of personal autonomy. In difficulties, Plato teaches, storytelling may help, and looking at large letters may help in understanding the small (as in Republic 368c7–d7).

The human being is freely ‘self-determined’ rather than determined through some external authority (whether theological or teleological). This dichotomy conveniently expresses the usual understanding of modern political thought’s divergence from preceding tradition. By comparison, pre-modernity is teleological, anthropomorphic, realist; in a word, naïve – with its substantively rational nature, dictating essential ends to which we are subject. These received truths are past due for a re-examination. Just how naïve or dogmatic was the Greek understanding of freedom and nature? In this chapter, I argue that Plato’s view of man as naturally political is more complex and multivalent than our historical categorizations allow. Nevertheless, there is a sense in which, for him, politics does indeed depend upon a natural model. That model, however, is the Idea of the Good. And here, where Plato seems furthest from us, lies his greatest challenge to contemporary understandings of nature and freedom.

This chapter excavates a conception of autonomy from Olympiodorus’ (495–570) commentary on Plato’s Gorgias. For Olympiodorus, the subject of the dialogue is the ethical principles that lead to constitutional happiness, i.e., the well-being of one who exhibits a proper interior ‘constitution’, psychic arrangement or order. Such a person knows himself insofar as he identifies himself with the rational soul and rules himself accordingly. The principal interlocutors in the dialogue falter and stumble primarily because they do not know themselves, and this self-ignorance renders them heteronomic. The present essay therefore detects in Olympiodorus’ commentary an insistence on self-knowledge as the archaeological ground upon which an autonomous human life is based. By reading the pages of the Gorgias, Olympiodorus aspires to draw forth for his students a notion of freedom that is truly human. This chapter attends to Olympiodorus’ commentary with the hope of accomplishing a similar outcome.

In this chapter, I argue that a comprehensive picture of Platonic autonomy must be balanced by attention to mutual interdependence and the ways that ideas arise through interpersonal dialogue. Philosophical ideas arise in a social context, and to this degree, even ideas that are now ‘my own’ have come to be mine in part through the reasoning of other persons. Moreover, as a result of human fallibility, even the fully developed Platonic philosopher still requires conversational partners to both learn and to test out ideas. Rather than overvaluing self-sufficiency, a philosophical life includes being open to challenges to one’s ideas, tolerating a state of not knowing fully, and learning that one needs others due to the limits of individual reasoners.

This chapter analyzes the Republic’s theory of the tripartite soul regarding the question of self-rule and autonomy. Only when the soul is in the ideal position of having reason positioned as sovereign ruler can a person be seen as acting autonomously. But it is not clear that when reason rules, it also motivates actions. Christine M. Korsgaard has argued that personal decision-making should be seen as analogous to political decision-making. She conceives of political decisions as a process where requests for action spring from the people, while rulers suffice to say yes or no. This chapter claims that this analysis is inadequate as a theory of how Plato portrays the relationship between the parts of the soul and of decision-making in general, and offers an alterantive interpreation in terms of what is called the Complex Model of Decision-Making.

This chapter addresses the question of how to understand Socrates’ willingness to obey the law and accept the death penalty in the Crito, seemingly in contrast to his rebellious attitude towards legal authority in the Apology. Its aim is to show that in submitting to the laws of Athens, Socrates does not betray his own ideal of self-government, in the sense of personal autonomy and freedom, which he explains and defends in several dialogues. However, it argues that Socrates conceives of self-government as the freedom to subject oneself to what used to be an external authority, but in such a way that this authority now becomes an integral part of one’s own moral stance. In order to throw further light on this issue, it also draws upon the discussion of the rule of law in the Statesman, where the notion of self-government similarly plays an important role.

In his Republic, Plato claims that we always do whatever we do in pursuit of the good. But in Book IV of the Republic, Plato shows that people can have attractions and aversive reactions at the same time toward the same objects or actions. In this essay, I argue that Plato’s recognition and use of aversion as a motivating response cannot be squared with what I call his ‘motivational monism’, that is, with the view that the pursuit of the good is the only thing that motivates us. Rather, as Plato’s own arguments show clearly, sometimes we don’t pursue what is good; instead, we act so as to avoid what is bad. I contend that this negative motivation cannot be wholly understood in terms of our positive interest in what is good.

This chapters argues that Plato’s notion of personal autonomy is closely linked to his understanding of the social dimension of rational deliberation. It begins with an assessment of Miranda Fricker’s influential account of epistemic authority and social power and raises some objections against the discursive notion of reason she develops. To substantiate these objections, it turns to Plato’s Cratylus and to Socrates’ analysis of logos as a language mediated form of rational deliberation. It argues that while Socrates suggests that the constitutive parts of language, the names (ta onomata), are ambivalent and deceptive, leaving discursive reason in doubt, Plato, at the same time, shows that it nevertheless can function to identify unwarranted claims of epistemic authority, as a form of codependent philosophical conversation. From this emerges a notion of Platonic autonomy closely tied to Plato’s analysis of the social dimension of rational deliberation and its embodiment in the Platonic dialogue.

Plato’s Socratic dialogues depict Socrates as advocating for two conflicting requirements. Socrates sometimes says that a non-expert is required to retain autonomy and to think for herself. On other occasions he suggests that the non-expert is required to defer to the expert’s opinion. This paper offers a way to resolve the tension between these requirements. For Socrates, both intellectual requirements are dependent on the one’s intellectual aim. Socrates thinks that one is required to think independently if one’s aim is to acquire the expertise that the interlocutor professes to have. However, if one’s aim is simply to make a correct decision in a particular situation, one is required to defer to an expert opinion. If one’s epistemic aim determines which requirement one should comply with, then, for Socrates, what counts as a reason for belief is sometimes dependent on one’s (epistemic) aim.

In the Republic, Socrates sets up rational self-rule, archein hautou, as the ideal state, with what we might call rational other-rule as second best (590d3-5). This paper will focus on the role of dialectic in the process of establishing self-rule from two perspectives: an agent having been raised by an educational program under ideal political conditions, focusing on the Republic; and an agent trying to engage in philosophical self-improvement under non-ideal political conditions, focusing on the Hippias Major. This may be seen as a contrast between a top-down and a bottom-up approach to establishing rational self-rule. My thesis is that, in both cases, an intermediate or provisional form of rational self-rule needs to be established in order to achieve full self-rule, and that, in both approaches, the provisional state of rational self-rule shares some important features of the final state of rational self-rule, what we might call wisdom, but these are different features in the two cases.

It is natural to see in the Republic’s concern with self-mastery a Platonic account of autonomy. But Plato’s understanding of self-rule in the Republic has more to do with cognition, and rather less to do with independent agency. Indeed, in the ethically motivated epistemology of the Republic, it is aiming at ideal knowledge that transforms one ethically and engenders many of the features centrally associated with the notion of ‘autonomy’. Being able to explain reality independently makes one independent of the illusions and confusions caused by pleasure, pains, and public pressures, and even restructures the desires, pleasures and other affects liable to arise. Moreover, the ability to give accounts is what makes us accountable to one another for our cognitive condition — and for the judgements, feelings and actions based on this.