Outline of Plato’s Cratylus

…the knowledge of names is a great part of knowledge.

The principal concern of the Cratylus is the ‘correctness of

names’: if a given name (or word or phrase) is the correct

one for denoting a given thing, what is it that makes it so?

Socrates discusses the correctness of names with Cratylus, a

former pupil of Heraclitus, and Hermogenes, the impecunious

brother of Callias, at whose house the Protagoras takes place.

Cratylus has been telling Hermogenes that a thing’s

name is not whatever people agree to call it, but that there

is a ‘natural correctness’ of names such that a thing’s name

belongs to it by nature and is the same for everyone, Greek or

foreigner. Cratylus says that his name is ‘Cratylus,’ and that

Socrates’ name is ‘Socrates,’ but that Hermogenes’ name is

not ‘Hermogenes,’ even though everyone agrees to call him so.

Hermogenes is baffled by this, and asks Socrates to ‘interpret’

what Cratylus is saying. Socrates suggests that Cratylus is

simply making fun of Hermogenes, who is unable to make

any money despite being named after the god of profit.

Hermogenes argues that the correctness of names is simply

determined by convention and agreement. For example, he

says, when a new name is given to a domestic slave, the new

name is just as correct as any of the old ones. It follows that

a person or object can have more than one name, and also

different names to different people: ‘…whatever each person

says is the name of something, for him, that is the name’.

Socrates asks Hermogenes whether he agrees with

Protagoras when he says that ‘man is the measure of all

things’. In other words, are things merely as they appear

to a given person, or do they have some fixed being of their

own? Hermogenes confesses that he has at times been so

perplexed as to ‘take refuge’ in Protagoras’ doctrine. Socrates

is astonished: at such times, did Hermogenes actually believe

that there was no such thing as a bad man? Hermogenes

replies that, on the contrary, he has often thought that there

were very bad men, and plenty of them. Socrates asks whether

Hermogenes believed that there was no such thing as a good

man, to which he replies ‘some, but not many’. They agree

that what distinguishes bad men from good men is that good

men are wise whereas bad men are foolish. But how, asks

Socrates, can one man be wise and another foolish if ‘man is

the measure of all things,’ and whatever each man believes to

be true is true for him? Furthermore, if one man can be wise

and another can be foolish, then Euthydemus’ doctrine that

‘all things equally and always belong to all men’ must also

be false. Therefore, people and things must have some fixed

being of their own. If people and things have some fixed being

of their own, it follows that this is also true of the actions

performed in relation to them. So if, for example, we want to

cut something, we can only be successful in cutting it if we cut

it in accordance with the nature of cutting and being cut and

with the natural tool for cutting. Speaking is also an action

performed in relation to people and things, and so is saying

names. Thus, if we are to speak correctly or achieve anything,

we cannot simply name things as we choose.

If we want to cut something, we must cut it with the natural

tool for cutting, and if we want to name something, we must

name it with the natural tool for naming, which is a name. If a

name is a sort of tool, who, asks Socrates, makes this tool? In

other words, who or what provides us with the names that we

use? Socrates replies that the names that we use are provided

by a legislator – a very rare kind of craftsman indeed. Just as

a carpenter embodies in wood the type of shuttle naturally

suited to each type of weaving, so the legislator embodies in

sounds and syllables the name naturally suited to each type of

thing. And just as different blacksmiths who are making the

same tool do not necessarily need to make it out of the same

iron, so different legislators who are naming the same thing

do not necessarily need to use the same syllables, so long as

the name that they give to the thing is naturally suited to it.

This explains why the same thing can have different names

in different languages. Thus, Cratylus is correct in saying that

there is a ‘natural correctness of names’.

But what is the best way to name things? Socrates suggests

that the best way to find out is to ask a sophist, but since

neither of them can afford to pay a sophist’s fee, they should

look instead to Homer and to the other poets. For example,

Homer says that the river god who fought with Hephaestus is

called Xanthos by the gods and Skamandros by men. Socrates

argues that the river god is more correctly called Xanthos

than Skamandros, since the gods are bound to call things

by their naturally correct names. Homer also ascribes two

names to Hector’s son, Skamandrios and Astyanax. Socrates

argues that Hector’s son is more correctly named Astyanax

than Skamandrios, since the Trojan men call him Astyanax

whereas the Trojan women call him Skamandrios, and Homer

thought that the Trojan men were wiser than their women.

Socrates quotes Homer in saying, of Hector, that ‘He alone

defended their city and long walls’. Thus, it seems correct

to call the son of the city’s defender Astyanax or ‘lord of the

city’. Furthermore, Hector itself means ‘holder,’ which is very

similar to ‘lord of the city’. If it seems right to call a lion’s

whelp a lion, or a horse’s foal a horse, then it also seems right

to call the son of a king a king. Thus, those born according to

nature should be given the same name as their fathers, even

though the names of father and son may, as in the case of

Hector and Astyanax, vary in their syllables.

Socrates now races through a long list of words to show

how they have been correctly named, speaking like an oracle

because inspired by Euthyphro. For example, truth or ale¯ theia

is a compression of the phrase ‘a wandering that is divine’

(ale¯ theia). The god of the underworld is called Hades because

he knows (eidenai) everything fine and beautiful, and Pluto

because he is the source of wealth (ploutos). Most people

prefer to call him Pluto rather than Hades because they are

afraid of what they cannot see (aeides), and assume that

Hades refers to that. Socrates says that many people are

terrified of Hades because, after we die, our souls remain

with him forever. However, the reason our souls do not escape

from him is because they are bound to him by the strongest of

desires, namely, the desire to associate with someone who can

make us a better person. Socrates adds that Hades must be a

philosopher, since he has realised that a person only becomes

interested in virtue once he is detached from his body.

Some names, says Socrates, cannot be explained in this

way, either because they have a foreign origin, or because

they are so old and ‘basic’ that they cannot be recovered.

Such ‘primary’ names are based on syllables and letters, and

are used to make other ‘derivative’ names. Socrates argues

that one must know about the correctness of primary names

if one is to know about the correctness of derivative names.

So, for example, the letter ‘r’ seemed to the legislator to be

an appropriate tool for copying motion, for which reason he

used it in words such as rheo ¯ (flow), trechein (running), tromos

(trembling), thruptein (breaking), and rhumbein (whirling). As

the tongue glides most of all in pronouncing the letter ‘l,’ the

legislator used this letter in olisthanein (glide), leion (smooth),

liparon (sleek), and kollo¯ des (viscous). However, as the gliding

of the tongue is stopped most completely in pronouncing the

letter ‘g,’ he preferred to use this letter to imitate something

cloying, as in gloiodes (clammy), glischron (gluey), and gluku

(sweet). And so on.

Hermogenes turns to Cratylus and asks him whether he

agrees with what Socrates has just been saying about names.

Cratylus replies by quoting Achilles’ words to Ajax,

Ajax, son of Telamon, seed of Zeus, lord of the

people,

All you have said to me seems spoken after my

own mind.

Socrates says that he has long been surprised at his own

wisdom, and also doubtful of it. He insists on the importance

of re-investigating whatever he says, since ‘self-deception is

the worst thing of all’.

Cratylus agrees with Socrates’ statement that ‘the correctness

of a name consists in displaying the nature of the thing it

names’. However, he thinks that all names have been correctly

given, whereas Socrates argues that, just like paintings, some

names are finely made and others are badly made. Just as

there are good craftsmen and bad craftsmen, so there are good

legislators and bad legislators. In particular, Socrates insists

that a name cannot resemble the thing that it names in every

respect, since it would then be a duplicate of that thing, and

no one would be able to tell the difference between them. As a

name cannot perfectly resemble the thing that it names, there

is scope for a name to be well given or less well given.

Socrates says that there are times when we understand

a name that does not resemble the thing that it names, in

which case our understanding of the name is a matter of

usage and convention. Usage, it seems, enables both like and

unlike names to denote things. Thus, whilst it may be possible

to know things through their names, it is far better to know

them in themselves. Socrates concludes that the matter calls

for further investigation.

This may be true, Cratylus, but is also very likely

to be untrue; and therefore I would not have you

be too easily persuaded of it. Reflect well and like a

man, and do not easily accept such a doctrine; for

you are young and of an age to learn. And when

you have found the truth, come and tell me.

Adapted from Plato’s Shadow