Phaedo Summary & Analysis

The conversation that takes place between Phaedo and Echecrates in this opening scene sets the stage for Socrates’s final dialogue. The fact that Echecrates is so curious about what happened is a testament to Socrates’s influence in Greece, as philosophers yearn to know not only about the particulars of his death, but about his final thoughts. As such, Phaedo himself becomes a mouthpiece for the revered philosopher’s last words. In this initial exchange, readers learn that Socrates has been in prison for quite some time, meaning he’s had ample time to carry out philosophical discussions with his peers, who visit him regularly. What’s more, the personal drama of this dialogue comes to the forefront of the text, as Phaedo mentions his relationship with Socrates—a reminder that Phaedo and his fellow philosophers have just lost a confidante, mentor, and friend.

When Phaedo says that Plato was absent for Socrates’s final hours, readers understand that this account may not be very historically accurate, since Plato—the author himself—wasn’t actually present for the exchange. By highlighting this, Plato gives himself license to infuse the dialogue with some of his own philosophical ideas. This sheds light on some of the discrepancies between what Socrates says in Phaedo and what he says in other dialogues. Unlike Apology, for instance, Phaedo isn’t presented as a historical document, but rather as a somewhat fictionalized version of what happened before Socrates’s death. On another note, it’s worth mentioning that Socrates’s sudden interest in “the arts” aligns with his belief (outlined in other dialogues) in the pursuit of wisdom. Although he has spent his life thinking that philosophy is the only worthy occupation, he now decides to explore poetry as a way of accessing new kinds of knowledge. 

Given that this is Socrates’s final conversation, it’s unsurprising that it quickly turns to the matter of death. Socrates suggests that good philosophers ought not fear death, though they also shouldn’t kill themselves because doing so wouldn’t be “right.” His reasoning rests on the belief that people belong to the gods, a notion that underlines not only his respect for the deities, but also the ways in which he often combines philosophical logic with spiritual belief—a tendency that will bring itself to bear on the arguments he makes throughout Phaedo.

To assure his friends that he has nothing to fear, Socrates suggests that his death isn’t as final as they might think. Rather than leaving the care of the gods, he believes he’ll actually be getting closer to these benevolent “masters,” ultimately implying that his existence isn’t coming to an end. What’s interesting about this idea is that it differs from the argument he sets forth in Apology. In both cases, he states that people shouldn’t fear death, but in Apology he says that to fear death is to make an unfounded assumption about the afterlife. According to this line of thinking, fearing death is like thinking oneself wise when one is not. Now, though, Socrates doesn’t hold back from speculation. This slight discrepancy is an indicator that Plato has infused Phaedo with some of his own ideas about the afterlife.  

Socrates’s lack of concern regarding his physical well-being is indicative of his philosophical beliefs. Above all, he wants to pursue the process of intellectual inquiry, casting aside all worry regarding his death. Of course, he will no doubt be in much more physical pain if he has to drink multiple servings of hemlock, but this doesn’t matter to him because he doesn’t care about such superficial matters. This moment foreshadows Socrates’s beliefs regarding the difference between the body and the soul.

Once Socrates sets forth his belief that the body and soul are separate entities, he frames the body as inferior. This, it seems, is why he doesn’t care whether or not he has to drink multiple doses of hemlock—to him, the body is unimportant, so it means nothing to him if he has to undergo the pain of drinking more poison. What he’s really interested in, he says, is the soul, which he thinks separates itself from the body after death. As Socrates outlines this argument, he prepares to explain to his listeners why he thinks that a “better future” awaits him. Furthermore, he champions the practice of philosophy by speaking admiringly about philosophers who “practice for dying and death” by disregarding the unreliable aspects of the corporeal world.

As Socrates solidifies the distinctions between the soul and the body, he refers to the Forms, or the notion that there are certain ideas (like “the Beautiful” or “the Good”) that encapsulate essential “realities.” The Forms, he argues, can only be understood by the soul, not by the body, which is fickle and unreliable with its tendency to make observations based on superficial physical stimuli. Although he doesn’t fully explain the concept of Forms in this moment, this serves as a precursor to his in-depth examination of the idea, which appears later in the dialogue.

Socrates believes that the body and soul are separate, and he also believes that the soul disentangles itself from the body when a person dies. Furthermore, he sees this as a good thing, since he thinks the body only gets in the way of a person’s ability to “attain knowledge.” This is why he looks forward to a “better future” after death, happy that he’ll finally be able to rid himself of pesky physical distractions. At the same time, Socrates has also lived his entire life trying not to pay attention to the corporeal world, instead applying himself to philosophy and the pursuit of wisdom. In turn, he believes that he’ll be ready to finally part from the physical world when the time comes.

Again, Socrates’s reasons for embracing death become clear, as he insists that his execution will give him the opportunity to more thoroughly apply himself to philosophy and the pursuit of knowledge. Without the body to distract him, he will be “purified” and thus better able to focus on the attainment of wisdom, which he sees as an inherently virtuous task.

Cebes’s objection to Socrates is worth noting because it reminds readers not to simply take whatever the philosopher says at face value. Although Socrates is a meticulous debater, it’s true that he hasn’t yet sufficiently proved the immortality of the soul. Rather, he has taken it as a given that the soul exists after death, focusing instead on how the final separation from the physical world will enable him to attain true knowledge. By urging his friend to develop his argument more fully, Cebes turns the dialogue into a give-and-take discussion, pushing Socrates to more carefully outline his viewpoint and thus create a more persuasive argument.

Socrates bases his first argument for the immortality of the soul on an old idea that the souls of people who have died “exist in the underworld.” This, of course, assumes a belief in the underworld itself, a point Socrates doesn’t challenge or feel the need to prove. Once again, then, readers see the ways in which he combines his philosophical ideas with his spiritual beliefs—beliefs that were rarely (if ever) questioned in Ancient Greece. It makes sense, then, that Socrates would use this premise as a starting point, and it’s worth noting that the logic following this assumption is sound and well-argued. As he outlines his theory, he attempts to prove not that the underworld exists, but that souls exist within it (and come back to life from it).

The idea Socrates sets forth in this moment is known as The Cyclical Argument, and its basic underlying idea is that since all things come to be from their opposites (as something becomes “taller” from having been “smaller” before), then living souls must come from the souls of people who have already died, since it has already been agreed upon that life and death are opposites. This, in turn, helps Socrates argue that human souls “exist in the underworld”—an important point, given that he’s trying to prove the immortality of the soul. Indeed, if the soul is truly immortal, then it must exist after the death of the body, and this existence would, of course, take place in the underworld.

The notion that “processes of becoming” must “balance each other out” helps Socrates complete The Cyclical Argument. It enables him not only to show Cebes that souls exist in the underworld, but to prove that the process of coming alive and dying will always repeat itself. This, in turn, aligns with his idea that the soul is immortal, as he frames its existence as cyclical and never-ending.

Socrates’s ideas about the attainment of knowledge and wisdom lead to the second argument for the soul’s immortality, which is commonly known as The Theory of Recollection. Socrates has already spoken about this idea in Meno, proving that people don’t learn new knowledge, but simply “recollect” the knowledge their souls acquired before birth. This, of course, means that the soul exists before birth, which is why the theory is useful for proving immortality. In this dialogue, though, Socrates goes beyond what he says in Meno, combining The Theory of Recollection with his ideas about the Forms. To illustrate the fact that humans possess knowledge that they themselves didn’t learn in their own lives, he shows Simmias that he understands the Form of equality, a concept his soul grasps without his having to learn the idea. In this way, Socrates once again prepares his listeners to think about the Forms, which he addresses in more detail later in the dialogue.

When Simmias asks Socrates to explicitly prove the continued existence of the soul, readers see once again the nature of this philosophical discourse, in which Socrates’s peers implore him to make himself as clear as possible and Socrates strengthens his argument in response. In this case, his friends’ concerns prompt Socrates to present his third argument for the immortality of the soul, which is known as The Affinity Argument. In keeping with Socrates’s ideas regarding the unreliability of the physical world, this argument suggests that the things that make up the corporeal world are “composites” (things made up of multiple pieces) that are always changing. The Forms, on the other hand, are entities in and of themselves, meaning that they are “noncomposite” and thus unchanging. This is only part of the first premise of The Affinity Argument, but it’s already clear that Socrates is once again making use of the idea of Forms to outline his views regarding existence and reality.

To put The Affinity Argument more simply, what Socrates is effectively saying is that there’s a certain kind of existence that “resembles the divine.” Because the soul itself aligns with this kind of existence, then it too “resembles the divine.” This is an important point, since anything that shares properties with the divine must also share its immortality. 

Solidifying The Affinity Argument, Socrates emphasizes the fact that nothing that is unchangeable can “dissolve” or disappear, since this would require it to change. Because it’s noncomposite and invisible, the soul is unchangeable. As such, it will not “dissolve” or disappear after death. After having established the immortality of the soul (though he will later present a final argument), Socrates suggests not only that the soul exists for eternity, but that its destination depends upon how a person has lived his or her life. In this way, he once again combines his logical reasoning with his more general—spiritual—ideas regarding the afterlife. 

Socrates’s willingness to hear Simmias and Cebes’s misgivings about his argument proves once again that he values the process of intellectual inquiry more than he cares about being right. Wanting to find the truth, he welcomes their objections. Simmias’s argument is a good one, for it puts Socrates’s otherwise confusing concepts into a more tangible framework, one that might help Simmias and the others more easily grasp the relationship between the body and the soul.

Like Simmias, Cebes is concerned with the relationship between the body and the soul, specifically taking issue with the fact that Socrates has implied that the soul lasts forever simply because it lasts longer than the body. Whereas Simmias’s objection is that the soul cannot exist without the body, Cebes’s argument is that the resilience of the soul doesn’t automatically prove its indestructibility.

Once more, Socrates shows his willingness to engage in friendly debate. Rather than angrily rejecting Simmias and Cebes’s arguments, he welcomes their objections, “admiring” them for speaking up. Here, as elsewhere, Socrates encourages his peers to pursue a dynamic discourse, clearly wanting them to seek the truth above all else.

Again, Socrates demonstrates his commitment to finding the truth, something he hopes to do through levelheaded debate and intellectual inquiry. What’s more, he doesn’t assume that he already knows the truth for certain; he can only become sure of it through talking with others. In this moment, Socrates also recognizes that he often confounds the people he talks with, which is why he insists that anyone who is confused shouldn’t hesitate to speak up. As a proponent of philosophical discourse, he doesn’t want to frustrate his fellow thinkers, for this would do nothing to help them attain wisdom.

Simmias’s original objection focuses mainly on what happens when a person dies. As such, he forgets to consider what happens before birth. Since he has already committed himself to the idea that the soul exists before birth (as proved by The Theory of Recollection), he renders his own argument illogical, realizing that what he’s said is like suggesting that music can exist without a musical instrument to make it. 

Socrates’s assertion that a harmony can’t also be a disharmony at the same time serves as a precursor to his final argument for the immortality of the soul, which heavily depends upon the idea that something can’t be both itself and its opposite simultaneously. This notion has to do with his Theory of Forms. In this moment, then, he once again prepares his listeners to examine the Forms and the essential nature of existence. 

By inviting his listeners to experience confusion regarding the underpinnings of the natural world, Socrates prepares them to question why, exactly, things are the way they are. In turn, he paves the way for his last argument for the immortality of the soul, which is known as The Final Argument—an argument that encourages thinkers to scrutinize the very nature of existence in a fashion that has nothing to do with physical observation.

When Socrates uses the word “cause,” he is referring to that which makes a thing what it is. He doesn’t necessarily justify why, exactly, he thinks that the Mind will “direct everything and arrange each thing in the way that [is] best,” but this particular detail is quickly made irrelevant by the fact that he discounts Anaxagoras as a thinker altogether. Searching for a way to conceptualize reality, then, he’s desperate to think of a way to understand the “cause” of things without relying on physical observation.

At this point, Socrates finally unveils what’s known as The Theory of Forms, a philosophical argument that Plato revisits in many of his texts. Explaining that “all beautiful things are beautiful by the Beautiful,” he effectively avoids having to point to specific physical attributes to describe why something is the way it is. Instead, he suggests that a thing is the way it is simply because it partakes in a certain Form of existence or reality. “Bigness,” for instance, is a Form, so anything that is big is big because of Bigness.

In this moment, Socrates makes an important distinction about the nature of opposites. Whereas he has previously argued that things come to be from their opposites, now he suggests that something cannot be both itself and its opposite at the same time. Whenever a thing’s opposite brings itself to bear on that thing, the thing will cease to be what it was before. This is worth keeping in mind as the dialogue progresses, since Socrates leans heavily on this new approach to the idea of opposites.

This unnamed listener’s objection gives Socrates a chance to clarify the distinction between The Cyclical Argument and what he’s now saying about the nature of opposites. In the Cyclical Argument, he uses opposites to show where things come from, whereas now he is solely concerned with looking at the exact nature of a thing at one time. As such, he does not contradict himself, because the idea of a thing coming from its opposite doesn’t affect whether or not a thing can be both itself and its opposite at the same time (which, of course, Socrates says it can’t).

The idea of opposites never “admit[ting]” one another is a crucial part of Socrates’s argument for the immortality of the soul, since he will eventually apply this theory to the relationship between life, death, and the soul. For now, though, he simply outlines the general notion that a thing’s adherence to a Form dictates the nature of its existence. 

The soul, Socrates says, always “brings alongs life.” This means that it can never “admit” death. That is, in the same way that snow always “brings” the Cold, the soul cannot exist without “bringing” life. In this way, Socrates effectively defines the soul by way of its aliveness, explaining the nature of its existence without having to use unreliable physical observations.

Now that Socrates has proved the immortality of the soul, he turns his attention to what, exactly, this immortality means for humans. Again, Socrates doesn’t feel the need to prove that there is an underworld, instead taking it for granted that “wicked” souls will pay for their misdeeds in the afterlife. Again, he combines the results of his philosophical reasoning with broader religious beliefs—ones that would have been very familiar and acceptable to his audience.

As Socrates continues to present his vision of the underworld, readers see the extent to which knowledge of the soul’s immortality affects the way people might live their lives. Indeed, if people know that bad behavior will force them to wander aimlessly through the underworld, they will likely try their hardest to be virtuous. In this way, Socrates’s story about the afterlife lends his arguments about immortality a moralistic element.

Socrates’s description of the “upper limit of the air” sounds quite appealing, as the people who live there are able to convene with the gods and live long lives. This, it seems, isn’t quite the same as traditional western notions of heaven, since the people in this region apparently still die. Through these descriptions, it becomes clear that Socrates’s view of immortality accords with something like reincarnation, a notion implying that virtuous people will go on to lead better and better lives. Once again, then, his conception of the afterlife gives people an incentive to live virtuously. 

It’s worth noting that people who lead immoral lives are given a chance to plead for forgiveness. Because Socrates believes the soul is immortal and that it often comes back to occupy new bodies, his idea of the afterlife is a bit more forgiving than Christian notions of Hell. At the same time, though, he upholds that certain souls are “incurable” and thus condemned forever. This, in turn, once again gives people an incentive to be virtuous, lest they end up spending eternity in the thrashing waters of Tartarus.

While Socrates suggests that good, “pious” people enjoy a superior existence amongst the gods, he believes that people who have truly “purified” themselves ascend to something even beyond this, achieving a state of being that transcends corporeal existence. This opinion makes sense, considering that Socrates thinks so lowly of the physical realm. In turn, it’s rather unsurprising that he thinks the ultimate manifestation of a virtuous life would be completely untethered from the body. Furthermore, this idea once again frames the practice of philosophy as incomparably virtuous and good, since involving oneself in this kind of thought is—according to Socrates—the only way to reach a “beautiful” incorporeal existence. And though Socrates admits that the afterlife might not be exactly the way he has suggested, he maintains his belief that thinking in this manner will only lead to good things; that is, learning remains of utmost importance in its own right, even if its outcomes are uncertain.

In keeping with his belief that the body is unimportant compared to the soul, Socrates has no qualms embracing his imminent death. After all, he not only believes that his soul will go on living, but that it will achieve a higher form of existence. In this moment Socrates demonstrates the depth of his belief that he has no reason to fear or resent the end of his life.

Asclepius is the Greek god of medicine. In Ancient times, people used to make sacrifices to him for healing their illnesses. It seems, then, that Socrates’s final request that Crito offer a “cock to Asclepius” indicates that he sees life as a malady or illness of which Asclepius is about to cure him (through death). This accords with his belief that the body and physical world distract the soul from attaining true wisdom and, thus, virtue. On the verge of death, then, Socrates remains committed to his low opinion of corporeal life, eagerly embracing the separation of his soul from his body because he believes he’s about to attain a superior form of existential purity. Additionally, the emotional reaction of Socrates’s friends again shows how crucial genuine interpersonal connection is to the practice of philosophy.