Socrates’s primary goal in Phaedo is to prove the immortality of the soul, but in doing so he also meditates on the very nature of existence. As he examines what makes a thing the way it is, he formulates The Theory of Forms, an important philosophical concept regarding the overall essence of a given object or idea. The Theory of Forms is the complex—yet also deceptively simple—idea that there are certain Forms of reality that can only be defined in relation to themselves. For instance, something is big merely because it has the form of Bigness. As Socrates spells out this theory, he explains that he originally came upon it because he wanted to “know the causes of everything, why it comes to be, why it perishes, and why it exists.” It’s clear, then, that his preoccupation with the soul’s immortality is related to an even broader existential question, one that seeks to find the core reasons that things are the way they are. And though the Theory of Forms uses detailed logic and rhetoric to answer this question, it ultimately comes down to a rather basic understanding of reality: specifically, that something is the way it is because it accords with an unchanging property—a Form.
This simplicity is important, because Socrates insists that a person can’t access the truth through the use of sensory perception. With all its distractions, desires, and eccentricities, he argues, the body only estranges people from reality. In turn, he discounts the powers of observation people rely upon most, thereby undermining the means by which the average person understands life and their surroundings. If, for instance, a person wanted to explain why something is beautiful, they would normally point to its aesthetic qualities, like its color or shape. But because these attributes are only observable through bodily sensation—in this case, through the use of sight—Socrates rejects this explanation, wanting instead to find a more definitive way of understanding the “cause” of the object’s beauty. In this way, he seems to move away from actually pinpointing what makes a thing the way it is.
However, Socrates’s unwillingness to go along with conventional, physical understandings of reality enables him to set forth The Theory of Forms, which allows for a more all-encompassing version of existence. Focusing on the foundational essence of any given thing, he says, “I assume the existence of a Beautiful, itself by itself, of a Good and a Great and all the rest.” Thinking only about essential Forms, he says, “[…] if there is anything beautiful besides the Beautiful itself, it is beautiful for no other reason than that it shares in that Beautiful, and I say so with everything.” To state this another way, he says, “[…] it is through Beauty that beautiful things are made beautiful.” In other words, Beauty is a Form, and anything that is beautiful is that way because it partakes in that Form. Or, as Phaedo himself rephrases the idea, anything that “acquire[s]” the same name as a given Form does so only “by having a share in” that Form. Especially because Socrates claims that people can’t perceive reality by using their senses, then the idea that they can turn to an immutable version of reality is quite significant. Through the Theory of Forms, Socrates arrives at a sense of certainty regarding existence, even as he rejects the common ways of understanding reality.
This idea might seem excessively circular and basic, but it’s worth noting that it gives thinkers a way of accepting reality for what it is while still working within a logical, philosophical framework. Rather than having to trust corporeal methods of observation, which are fickle and prone to subjectivity, Socrates proposes a manner of thinking about reality that will always remain the same. In turn, he manages to build a sense of certitude surrounding the nature of existence, which would otherwise remain too vague and variable to characterize.
Existence, Reality, and the Forms ThemeTracker
Existence, Reality, and the Forms Quotes in Phaedo
Consider, he said, whether this is the case: We say that there is something that is equal. I do not mean a stick equal to a stick or a stone to a stone, or anything of that kind, but something else beyond all these, the Equal itself. Shall we say that this exists or not?
Indeed we shall, by Zeus, said Simmias, most definitely.
And do we know what this is? — Certainly.
Whence have we acquired the knowledge of it? Is it not from the things we mentioned just now, from seeing sticks or stones or some other things that are equal we come to think of that other which is different from them? Or doesn’t it seem to you to be different?
But rather, Simmias, according to correct reasoning, no soul, if it is a harmony, will have any share of wickedness, for harmony is surely altogether this very thing, harmony, and would never share in disharmony.
It certainly would not.
Nor would a soul, being altogether this very thing, a soul, share in wickedness?
How could it, in view of what has been said?
So it follows from this argument that all the souls of all living creatures will be equally good, if souls are by nature equally this very thing, souls.
I think so, Socrates.
Does our argument seem right, he said, and does it seem that it should have come to this, if the hypothesis that the soul is a harmony was correct?
Not in any way, he said.
[…] if there is anything beautiful besides the Beautiful itself, it is beautiful for no other reason than that it shares in that Beautiful, and I say so with everything. […] I no longer understand or recognize those other sophisticated causes, and if someone tells me that a thing is beautiful because it has a bright color or shape or any such thing, I ignore these other reasons—for all these confuse me—but I simply, naively, and perhaps foolishly cling to this, that nothing else makes it beautiful other than the presence of, or the sharing in, or however you may describe its relationship to that Beautiful we mentioned, for I will not insist on the precise nature of the relationship, but that all beautiful things are beautiful by the Beautiful. That, I think, is the safest answer I can give myself or anyone else. And if I stick to this I think I shall never fall into error. This is the safe answer for me or anyone else to give, namely, that it is through Beauty that beautiful things are made beautiful.
You have bravely reminded us, but you do not understand the difference between what is said now and what was said then, which was that an opposite thing came from an opposite thing; now we say that the opposite itself could never become opposite to itself, neither that in us nor that in nature.
Answer me then, he said, what is it that, present in a body, makes it living? —A soul.
And is that always so? — Of course.
Whatever the soul occupies, it always brings life to it? — It does.
Is there, or is there not, an opposite to life? — There is.
What is it? — Death.
So the soul will never admit the opposite of that which it brings along, as we agree from what has been said?
Most certainly, said Cebes.
[…]
Very well, what do we call that which does not admit death?
The deathless, he said.
Now the soul does not admit death? — No.
So the soul is deathless? — It is.