It is often held that only by the time of the late Sophist did Plato discover a way of dealing with puzzles about the possibility of false judgement and false statement. Earlier dialogues such as Euthydemus and Theaetetus which introduce the puzzles are thought to labour under assumptions about how language relates to reality, born of inexperience in semantics, that stood in his way. Here it is argued that in both those dialogues Plato is in fact doing something subtler than captivity to a crude picture of the way language works would allow. A more attentive reading of these two texts makes it clear that he has already identified the structural relation between subject and predicate as the key: not only to understanding how false judgement is possible, but through that to bigger questions about the relation of thought and language to the world in general. The Euthydemus, in particular, shows us how many more ways there are for an argument to go wrong than are dreamed of in the logic books. It even suggests that a failure in logic may sometimes be simultaneously a failure in love.

A diagnosis and discussion of the trope of paternity – biological and dialectical – with which Plato plays in Republic and Philebus.

A wide-ranging study of Plato’s treatment in the Republic of the forms and institutions of a society’s culture (anthropologically understood), and the way culture shapes character through its operation, often gradual and imperceptible, upon the soul. Topics discussed in detail include Book X’s account of the structures within the human soul that Plato identifies in describing and explaining the way culture impacts upon it; Book II’s account of the first ‘economic’ city and its successor, the city of luxury, with special attention to the use of couches in the ancient Greek’s conception and practice of the key cultural practice of civilised feasting; the puppets and the puppeteers in the Cave analogy of Book VII, interpreted as symbolising the role of cultural products and their creators in shaping human susceptibility to cultural formation; and Book X’s discussion of the ontological status both of cultural products as indirect imitations of Forms, and of those Forms themselves, particularly considered as the paradigms upon which a more soundly based culture might be modelled.

A study of James Mill’s engagement with Plato. It focuses on two hostile reviews of Thomas Taylor’s Neoplatonist Plato, one published by him in 2004 in The Literary Journal, a short-lived periodical that he himself edited, and another in 2009 in The Edinburgh Review, a much more prestigious and enduring forum of opinion, for which he wrote regularly for some years. It celebrates Mill as a pioneer, who had the good fortune to make his first approach to Plato from the vantage point of the scepticism of Cicero’s Academica, and very likely exerted influence on the interpretation of Plato in George Grote’s great study of 1865, which portrays an exploratory thinker, not a system builder.

This short book review discusses the philosophical appropriation by Plato and Aristotle of the Greek institution, at once social, political, and religious, of theoria, ‘spectating’. Pythagoras was alleged to have classified those who travelled to the Olympic Games as competitors, traders, or spectators: symbolising the pursuit in human life of honour, economic gain, and wisdom. Plato and Aristotle are often taken accordingly to be committed to what is sometimes labelled ‘the spectator theory of knowledge’, with knowledge of ultimate principles construed as non-discursive intuition or ‘instant ocularity’. But the vision they have in mind is actually the ‘seeing’ constituted by grasp of an explanation of how a whole complex of things hangs together, achieved only after much preparatory, exploratory thought.

Why would a fourth-century BC Atomist – Anaxarchus – express his scepticism about knowing the truth of things by imaging these as scene-painting? The comparison seems already to have been made by Democritus and Anaxagoras, who according to Vitruvius had been impressed by something an Athenian painter named Agatharchus had written on perspective. This chapter offers a detailed scrutiny of a range of texts that have a bearing on the interpretation of Vitruvius’ claim. It argues that Agatharchus was probably author of a pioneering treatise on stage-building, which included a section on scene-painting lauding its power to create the illusion of a whole three-dimensional world. Anaxagoras will have taken this claim as cue for his dictum: ‘Appearances are a sight of things unseen’ – in the sense that there is no break between the macroscopic world of ordinary observation and the microscopic world which explains it. The Atomist Democritus will no doubt have imparted a quite different spin to Anaxagoras’ slogan in praising it. But it is unlikely that either Presocratic was prompted to a mathematical interest in perspective by reading Agatharchus. It is only with the Hellenistic philosophers, and especially Epicurus, that optics begins to leave its trace on general epistemology.

It is often said that in the Republic Plato proposes to ban art and poetry from his ideal society. The truth is that poetry – the right sort of poetry – will be a pervasive presence in the life of the warrior class whose upbringing and education are discussed in Books 2 and 3 of the Republic. What Plato develops here is a systematic anti-democratic programme for reforming music, i.e. musical poetry, incorporating dance as well as song. There are four stages in the programme: first, purging poetic content; second, placing severe restrictions on the manner of performance and on those permitted to engage in it, and particularly on the extent of mimesis or impersonation deemed allowable in performance, on account of its influence on character; third, placing similarly severe restrictions on musical technique, particular on the musical modes composers are allowed to employ in constructing melodies; and fourth, ensuring that the material and social settings in which musical poetry is performed are also designed with a gracefulness and beauty that will work their appropriate effect on the performers, providing the ideal conditions for them to fall in love, homoerotically conceived.

This paper is detective work. I aim to show that the brilliant Pythagorean mathematician Archytas of Tarentum was the founder of ancient Greek mathematical optics. The evidence is indirect. (1) A fragment of Aristotle preserved in Iamblichus is one of two doxographical notices to mention Pythagorean work in optics. (2) Apuleius credits Archytas with a theory of visual rays which saves the principle that the angle of reflection is equal to the angle of incidence. I argue that the source from which Apuleius got this information was the Catoptrics of Archimedes, the genuineness of which I defend against Knorr’s hypothesis that it is the Euclidean Catoptrics, which had been misattributed to Archimedes. (3) The omission of optics from the mathematical curriculum in Plato’s Republic, and the Timaeus’ wholly physical account of mirror images, can be explained as polemical, for it is well attested that optics was practised in the Academy. The reason Plato does not mention optics is that he objected to Archytas using mathematics to understand the physical world rather than to transcend it.

The construal of Apology 30b2–4 which in JHS 123 (2003) I attributed to John Bumet had appeared in print sixteen years before his edition of Euthyphro, Apology, and Crito. I now suggest that it probably originated in the mind of J. A. Smith, who was an undergraduate contemporary of Burnet’s at Balliol College, Oxford, and later Waynflete Professor of Moral and Metaphysical Philosophy. The unexpected construal, transmitted by Balliol tradition, is typical of Smith’s cast of mind.

What does Aquinas mean when he speaks of ‘spiritual’ change in explaining sense perception? This chapter is partly exegesis of that notion, partly explication of the author’s own previous invocation of ‘spiritual’ change to characterise the way perception for Aristotle takes on sensible form without matter, and partly explanation of why in philosophy since Descartes it is so difficult to understand how for Aristotle and Aquinas perception is both physical and mental. For both thinkers, it is an ‘unordinary’ physical alteration. That does not make it a ‘mental’ event in any sense that contrasts with ‘physical’. In sight the eye is coloured by the sensible form of red conceived not as a natural form, but as what Aquinas calls an intentio. The notion of intentio here expresses the idea of cognitive awareness, or of sensible form causing knowledge in a being which has the power of cognition. Aquinas calls sight the ‘most spiritual’ of the senses because, whereas with the operation of the other senses ordinary natural processes are required either as causal antecedents or concomitant effects, in sight there is no similar natural change at all. In its power of cognition alone we reach the end of explanation.