This is an excerpt found on the web. It is
the specific section for the Multimedia Theory & Criticism course.
Phaedrus: A ridiculous question! But tell me what you say you have
Socrates: I heard, then, that at Naucratis, in Egypt, was one of the
ancient gods of that country, the one whose sacred bird is called the ibis, and the name
of the god himself was Theuth. He it was who [274d] invented numbers and arithmetic and
geometry and astronomy, also draughts and dice, and, most important of all, letters. Now
the king of all Egypt at that time was the god Thamus, who lived in the great city of the
upper region, which the Greeks call the Egyptian Thebes, and they call the god himself
Ammon. To him came Theuth to show his inventions, saying that they ought to be imparted to
the other Egyptians. But Thamus asked what use there was in each, and as Theuth enumerated
their uses, expressed praise or blame, according as he approved [274e] or disapproved. The
story goes that Thamus said many things to Theuth in praise or blame of the various arts,
which it would take too long to repeat; but when they came to the letters, "This
invention, O king," said Theuth, "will make the Egyptians wiser and will improve
their memories; for it is an elixir of memory and wisdom that I have discovered." But
Thamus replied, "Most ingenious Theuth, one man has the ability to beget arts, but
the ability to judge of their usefulness or harmfulness to their users belongs to another;
[275a] and now you, who are the father of letters, have been led by your affection to
ascribe to them a power the opposite of that which they really possess. For this invention
will produce forgetfulness in the minds of those who learn to use it, because they will
not practice their memory. Their trust in writing, produced by external characters which
are no part of themselves, will discourage the use of their own memory within them. You
have invented an elixir not of memory, but of reminding; and you offer your pupils the
appearance of wisdom, not true wisdom, for they will read many things without instruction
and will therefore seem [275b] to know many things, when they are for the most part
ignorant and hard to get along with, since they are not wise, but only appear wise.
Phaedrus: Socrates, you easily make up stories of Egypt or any country
Socrates: They used to say, my friend, that the words of the oak in the
holy place of Zeus at Dodona were the first prophetic utterances. The people of that time,
not being so wise as you young folks, were content in their simplicity to hear an oak
[275c] or a rock, provided only it spoke the truth; but to you, perhaps, it makes a
difference who the speaker is and where he comes from, for you do not consider only
whether his words are true or not.
Phaedrus: Your rebuke is just; and I think the Theban is right in what he
says about letters.
Socrates: He who thinks, then, that he has left behind him any art in
writing, and he who receives it in the belief that anything in writing will be clear and
certain, would be an utterly simple person, and in truth ignorant of the prophecy of
Ammon, if he thinks [275d] written words are of any use except to remind him who knows the
matter about which they are written.
Phaedrus: Very true.
Socrates: Writing, Phaedrus, has this strange quality, and is very like
painting; for the creatures of painting stand like living beings, but if one asks them a
question, they preserve a solemn silence. And so it is with written words; you might think
they spoke as if they had intelligence, but if you question them, wishing to know about
their sayings, they always say only one and the same thing. And every word, when [275e]
once it is written, is bandied about, alike among those who understand and those who have
no interest in it, and it knows not to whom to speak or not to speak; when ill-treated or
unjustly reviled it always needs its father to help it; for it has no power to protect or
Phaedrus: You are quite right about that, too. [276a]
Socrates: Now tell me; is there not another kind of speech, or word,
which shows itself to be the legitimate brother of this bastard one, both in the manner of
its begetting and in its better and more powerful nature?
Phaedrus: What is this word and how is it begotten, as you say?
Socrates: The word which is written with intelligence in the mind of the
learner, which is able to defend itself and knows to whom it should speak, and before whom
to be silent.
Phaedrus: You mean the living and breathing word of him who knows, of
which the written word may justly be called the image. [276b]
Socrates: Exactly. Now tell me this. Would a sensible husbandman, who has
seeds which he cares for and which he wishes to bear fruit, plant them with serious
purpose in the heat of summer in some garden of Adonis, and delight in seeing them appear
in beauty in eight days, or would he do that sort of thing, when he did it at all, only in
play and for amusement? Would he not, when he was in earnest, follow the rules of
husbandry, plant his seeds in fitting ground, and be pleased when those which he had sowed
reached their perfection in the eighth month? [276c]
Phaedrus: Yes, Socrates, he would, as you say, act in that way when in
earnest and in the other way only for amusement.
Socrates: And shall we suppose that he who has knowledge of the just and
the good and beautiful has less sense about his seeds than the husbandman?
Phaedrus: By no means.
Socrates: Then he will not, when in earnest, write them in ink, sowing
them through a pen with words which cannot defend themselves by argument and cannot teach
the truth effectually.
Phaedrus: No, at least, probably not. [276d]
Socrates: No. The gardens of letters he will, it seems, plant for
amusement, and will write, when he writes, to treasure up reminders for himself, when he
comes to the forgetfulness of old age, and for others who follow the same path, and he
will be pleased when he sees them putting forth tender leaves. When others engage in other
amusements, refreshing themselves with banquets and kindred entertainments, he will pass
the time in such pleasures as I have suggested.[276e]
Phaedrus: A noble pastime, Socrates, and a contrast to those base
pleasures, the pastime of the man who can find amusement in discourse, telling stories
about justice, and the other subjects of which you speak.
Socrates: Yes, Phaedrus, so it is; but, in my opinion, serious discourse
about them is far nobler, when one employs the dialectic method and plants and sows in a
fitting soul intelligent words which are able to help themselves and him [277a] who
planted them, which are not fruitless, but yield seed from which there spring up in other
minds other words capable of continuing the process for ever, and which make their
possessor happy, to the farthest possible limit of human happiness.
Phaedrus: Yes, that is far nobler.