“Think the event” is central to the philosophy of Alain Badiou, a modern Platonist who has been writing and lecturing in philosophy for over five decades. Badiou said, “Philosophy is the seizure of thought of what breaks with the sleep of thought,” because real truth is found by looking for the exceptions and finding the important connections in time that we have overlooked. Badiou’s insight is that you can’t see until your eyes have been opened by an “event,” and to his thinking events happen like shockwaves that shake the scales from your eyes and allow you to see something you missed before because you were so invested in one way of looking at the world.

In discussing selections from Badiou’s writing and lectures from several decades ago, James Myers and Michael Fitzpatrick found many connections between the the polarized politics of today and the philosopher’s work and views on political organization and practices of his time. As opposition is increasingly entrenched, Badiou said the key is to base political actions on a truth such as justice that all factions could reasonably support, making the political challengers commensurable to truth rather than existing only to oppose each others’ ideas.

The three great tasks of philosophy, Badiou says, are “to deal with choice, with distance, and with the exception.” The event is the exception, and philosophy leads us to understand the connections of cause and effect in the exceptions that shape our lives. Thinking the event helps us to distinguish the real from the shadowy projections on the wall of Plato’s allegory of the cave, and by opening our eyes to what really happened we regain our agency for change to make something different happen.

We followed our discussion of Plato’s famous Letter VII by looking at his lesser-known Letters VI and VIII. Together, they form a powerful trilogy in which “Love your neighbour” emerges as an overarching theme, and a principle that Plato says applies above all to kings, whose rule must be tempered by a love for their subjects. Plato’s concept of kingship is very different from the history of misrule by kings who exercise absolute and arbitrary power for their own benefit. The lessons that Plato provides in the three letters, from his own experience in politics 2,400 years ago, are especially important to our modern world, as tyrants and authoritarians impose injustice on their slavish followers and destroy the social harmony of their subjects. In Letter VI, Plato calls on members of The Academy to form a bond of friendship with a king who respects reason, and in Letter VIII he exhorts would-be tyrants to “shun and flee from what senseless and insatiate men call happiness; let them try to change into the form of kings and subject themselves to kingly laws, thus acquiring the highest honors from their willing subjects and from the laws.” A good king is the servant of the laws and justice, not one who enslaves his people with false images that, like the prisoner in the cave of Plato’s Republic, are mistaken for reality. More than two millennia after Plato wrote, we live in a world awash in false images that are broadcast to our screens with the speed and power of technology and cloaked as “opinion,” but what if we were to relinquish what we think of as a right to opinion? In our discussion, a proposal is advanced that we need to forgo claiming a right to opinion so that we can exercise reason, because reason and not opinion is the road the path to true freedom. We argue that this would be a step in the right direction on the divided line of knowledge that Plato described in The Republic, to us toward knowledge and then, with social harmony, to wisdom which is the greatest good.

The second half of our discussion on Plato’s Seventh Letter begins with a reading of Plato’s famous statement that he never published any statement of his opinions. That’s both the beauty and, for some, the frustration of Plato to his readers. The reason, as Michael Fitzpatrick states in our dialogue, is that Plato didn’t want to give us the answer key: “The only way your soul benefits is if these thoughts are born afresh in your soul, and you see the truth for yourself.” Plato weaves into his Seventh Letter much of the philosophy that he presented in his many dialogues, in particular that of the Republic, and one of the central questions of the Seventh Letter is “Can virtue be taught?” It’s a question that Plato also asked in the Meno, and we can see an answer from the Seventh Letter’s extraordinary account of his experience with the tyrannical rule of Syracuse by the tyrant Dionysius. Written to the supporters of the tyrant’s victim, Dion, and recounting his practical imprisonment by Dionysius on his third visit to the city, Plato admits that his attempts to teach virtue to Dionysius had failed. Is Plato saying virtue can never be taught? We don’t know his opinion on the matter, and that’s why he leaves the question hanging for us to consider.

In our first discussion on Plato's letters, we look at his best-known Seventh Letter. In the letter, Plato relates his experience with Dionysius, the tyrannical ruler of Syracuse, and the philosophically minded Dion was was persecuted by Dionysius. Plato's extraordinary recounting of his time teaching both Dionysius and Dion demonstrates his success with the latter, and failure with the former. There are many intriguing parallels between the situation in Syracuse 2,400 years ago, when Plato wrote, and the political and social environment in which we find ourselves today. Plato's account highlights the ills that befall a society whose rulers don't practise philosophy, and we see such rulers now, in the 21st century. The philosophical principles and observations about human nature that Plato expressed over two millennia ago remain relevant today, and in our next episode on the Seventh Letter we'll explore the age-old question "Can virtue be taught?"

What relevance do the principles and ideas of Plato's dialogues have for the modern, technologically-powered world of 8 billion people? In a wide-ranging discussion, James Myers and Michael Fitzpatrick address current social and political issues around the globe, relating them to the themes presented in a number of Plato's dialogues that include The Republic, The Laws, the Statesman, and the Meno, Questions of leadership, education, wealth, and social cohesion are raised, with some interesting suggestions for a path forward to the common good that was an abiding concern of Plato.

Those interested in Michael's writing on Plato and related subjects can visit "Plato for the Masses" at https://platoforthemasses.substack.com/.

Our final meeting on Plato’s longest dialogue, The Laws, concluded with readings from Book XII, where the Athenian expounds on the operation of a special Nocturnal Council that will act as the head and intellect for Crete’s new colony, Magnesia. On August 4, 2024, members of the Toronto, Calgary, and Chicago Philosophy Meetup groups considered many of the key themes of The Laws, in discussing how the Nocturnal Council would guard the virtue of the colony, its leaders, and its citizens. The unique aim of Magnesia’s constitution to be a virtuous and peaceful community, unlike constitutional goals many modern readers would be familiar with, requires a unity of principles, harmony, and laws based on reason, which will be the task of the Nocturnal Council to ensure. This led to a recollection of our first two meetings on The Laws, where we began with Book X and its justification that Reason itself is in the very centre of the universe, and is something far older than the physical matter that surrounds our immaterial souls. In concluding the dialogue, are we left with reason to think that Magnesia will be successful? The answer may depend on the meaning of virtue: is virtue, as the Athenian earlier stated, “the general concord of reason and emotion” and, as Socrates stated in the Meno, the account of the reasons why? Perhaps with today’s increasing global discord, some solutions might be found in Plato’s final dialogue, The Laws.

Book XII is the final chapter of Plato’s longest and last dialogue, The Laws, and addresses the challenge of how a community can thrive when its leaders act against the collective interest. Having set out a novel constitution that promotes the virtue of citizens and leaders in Crete’s new colony, Magnesia, the three characters in the dialogue turn their attention to protecting the colony from vice that sometimes arises from the greed and self-interest of rulers. On July 21, 2024, members of the Toronto, Calgary, and Chicago Philosophy Meetup groups met to consider the proposal discussed by the Athenian, Clinias from Crete, and Megillus from Sparta to implement an office of scrutineers to oversee Magnesia’s Guardians of the Laws. The proposed solution avoids an infinite regress of leaders overseeing other leaders by giving the independent scrutineers the power to review but not to legislate, and it further strengthens the colony’s virtue and peace with provisions governing ambassadors and guarding against foreign influence. Will their provisions be sufficient? In our next and final episode on The Laws, we’ll discuss the Nocturnal Council, which is an additional pillar the three characters will add to Magnesia’s constitutional framework to guard the Guardians.

Book XI of Plato's last and longest dialogue represents a dramatic shift in tone from Book X, where we began our series on The Laws eleven episodes ago. On July 7, 2024, members of the Toronto, Calgary, and Chicago Philosophy Meetup groups convened to consider the thirty-three laws that the Athenian proposes to Clinias and Megillus for the regulation of trade and property in Crete's new colony, Magnesia. Some of the Athenian's laws are exceptionally harsh, including one that would allow a passer-by over the age of thirty to administer a beating with impunity to any seller in the market who quotes two different prices in a day for his goods. In this book, the Athenian is dramatically different from Book X and the previous books. Does Clinias, who is to be among Magnesia's first rulers, see any contradictions in what the Athenian proposes in Book XI? Has the Athenian been faithful to his previous assertion that all laws must be prefaced by a lengthy, reasoned preamble, or do his thirty-three laws on the distribution of wealth rely more on tradition and less on reason in the resolution of often extremely contentious disputes over property? Participants engaged in a spirited discussion on these and other questions, as we set the stage to complete The Laws in our next two episodes.