CHAPTER 3

The Daimonion of Socrates: Daimones and Divination in Neoplatonism

Crystal Addey

But, as I believe, I have been commanded to do this [i.e., philosophical elenchus] by the god through oracles and dreams (ἐκ μαντείων καὶ ἐξ ἐνυπνίων) and in every way in which any man was ever commanded by divine power to do anything whatsoever.

—Socrates in Plato, Apology 33c5–9

Introduction

Socrates stands as a figurehead in the history of Western philosophy and is often perceived as the champion of reason and rationality. Within the history of modern classical and philosophical scholarship, Socrates has been perceived as the paragon of rationality and reason, the founder of both rational enquiry and the Western philosophical tradition.¹ Within the parameters of such a perspective, the Socratic method of elenchus (question-and-answer cross-examination) is held to be one of the most relevant elements of the Socratic heritage and is often assessed as the major contribution of Socratic discourse to Western thought, rivaled only by his contributions to moral philosophy and virtue ethics.² Despite recent challenges,³ the view of Socrates as an arch-rationalist remains the predominant perspective today.⁴ Yet for later Neoplatonist philosophers, Socrates was this and yet also much, much more. These philosophers maintained that Socrates was not only the philosopher par excellence but also a holy man or sage and an inspired mystic and prophet. One of the key elements of Plato’s portrayal of Socrates which led these philosophers to hold such a view was the daimonion, the divine “voice” or “sign” of Socrates, which, through its prohibitions on his actions, frequently affected his action and discourse in Plato’s dialogues.

Focusing on this characterization, this chapter explores Neoplatonist views of the daimonion of Socrates, while further examining their teachings on the personal daimon and the connections between daimones and divination. It focuses primarily on Proclus’s Commentary on the First Alcibiades as a central case study, for several reasons.⁵ First, it includes an extensive examination of the whole range of daimones, including the nature and characteristics of personal (or guardian) daimones.⁶ Second, Proclus discusses the nature of the daimonion of Socrates in detail; this work comprises one of the few extant accounts of this subject in late Neoplatonism,⁷ although it is important to note that there was a long tradition of writing on the daimonion of Socrates within the Platonic tradition. The extant treatises of Plutarch, Apuleius, and Maximus of Tyre on “the daimon of Socrates” are key examples of this genre from the Middle Platonic period.⁸

I will argue that the late Neoplatonist view of Socrates as sage and mystic does not contradict or conflict in any way with the view of Socrates as a rationalist or as the philosopher par excellence. Both roles are attributed to Socrates by Neoplatonists and are seen as vital to the role of philosophy as a way of life leading toward self-knowledge and, consequently, toward knowledge of the cosmos. This mutual inclusivity derives from their metaphysical system and epistemology, whereby rationality is not in opposition to religious states of inspiration but operates on a continuum with suprarationality and divine inspiration. Thus, rationality and reason are themselves seen as ultimately gifts of the gods, which, when used in the appropriate manner, can lead to suprarational, mystic states of being, thought, and action. Within Neoplatonism, the dialectician must be a mystic, and the mystic must be a dialectician. In this sense, Socrates exemplifies the culmination of the philosophical life—the enlightened mystic who lives and acts in assimilation to the divine.

Socrates as the Founder of Western Philosophy: The Modern View

Within Plato’s dialogues,⁹ Socrates often speaks of a daimonion, which he frequently calls a divine “voice” (φωνή)¹⁰ or “sign” (σημεῖον),¹¹ which has spoken to him “since childhood” (Apology 31d3–4), advising him against a course of action. In the Republic, Socrates claims that “few or none” have experienced having a daimonion, although he immediately qualifies this by speaking of “those who have been of this little company” (τούτων τῶν ὀλίγων).¹² The warnings of the daimonion are often practical, relating to “matters great and small,” and it is understood to give him a sign that warns him not to pursue a course of action that he is in the process of initiating: “It always holds me back from something I am about to do” (ἀεὶ δέ με ἐπίσχει ὃ ἂν μέλλω πράττειν), as he states at Phaedrus 242c1–2. Sometimes the daimonion prevents Socrates from engaging in the elenchus and conversing with specific characters.¹³ On other occasions, the daimonion prevents Socrates from leaving a specific place: in the Phaedrus (242b9–243a6) Socrates attributes this intervention to the fact that he has made a bad speech dishonoring the gods that he must correct, while in the Euthydemus (272e1ff.) the warning not to leave ensures that Socrates does not miss conversing with two characters who enter the Lyceum as he is about to leave. Meanwhile, in the Republic (496c3–e4) and in the Apology (31c5–d8) Socrates claims that the daimonion has prevented him from entering or becoming involved in politics. In the Apology, Socrates connects the daimonion within the divine origin of his philosophical mission to engage others in elenchus, which he claims was inspired by an oracle from Apollo at Delphi. He makes this connection by commenting several times on the silence of the daimonion during the course of his defense speech, which largely rests on the oracle and his consequent assertion of the divine nature of his philosophical mission.¹⁴ The connection drawn by Socrates between the silence of the daimonion and the divinely mandated nature of his philosophical mission is further supported by his claim at 33c5–9 to engage others in elenchus and pursue his philosophical mission because “I have been commanded to do this by the god through oracles and dreams and in every way in which any man was ever commanded by divine power to do anything whatsoever.” To these Platonic passages, we might add another from the Hippias Major, in which Socrates seems to allude to the daimonion, stating: “Hippias, my dear friend, you are a lucky man, because you know which activities a man should practice, and you have practiced them successfully as you say. But I am apparently held back by a certain daimonic destiny (ἐμὲ δὲ δαιμονία τις τύχη … κατέχει): I wander around and I am always getting stuck.”¹⁵

Socrates’ daimonion, his divine voice or sign, does not sit easily with the modern view of Socrates as an arch-rationalist. It has troubled modern scholars who would like to discount all traces of religiosity or, as they see it, all departures from rationality in his outlook.¹⁶ In fact, many scholars have attempted to “explain away” Socrates’ daimonion as the “voice” of human conscience, a purely human phenomenon.¹⁷ This suggestion had earlier been refuted by Zeller, who recognized that Socrates does not talk of his “divine voice” in the same contexts as our notion of a “voice” of human conscience; rather, it is confined to future contingencies (as opposed to feelings of conscience after the act) and is not always concerned with moral judgments but concerned rather with the consequences of a course of action.¹⁸ Other scholars have attempted to explain away Socrates’ daimonion by interpreting his experience as nothing more than a “rational hunch” or “intuition” of the sort that often comes to those who think deeply.¹⁹ Recent scholarship has offered a far more comprehensive picture of Socrates’ religion, demonstrating the inadequacy and paucity of accounts that characterize Socrates as an arch-rationalist or as a mere humanist.²⁰ Nevertheless despite these recent and valuable reassessments, the relationship between Socrates’ religious experiences (his daimonion, his injunction to follow his philosophical mission as a result of the Delphic oracle’s pronouncement) and his commitment to reason remains a source of confusion for many modern scholars. For instance, Gregory Vlastos has insisted that Socrates would subject anything and everything, including religious phenomena, to the rigorous standards of rational justification:

So all he [i.e., Socrates] could claim to be getting from the daimonion at any given time is precisely what he calls the daimonion itself—a “divine sign,” which allows, indeed requires, unlimited scope for the deployment of his critical reason to extract whatever truth it can from those monitions … there can be no conflict between Socrates’ unconditional readiness to follow critical reason wherever it may lead and his equally unconditional commitment to obey commands issued to him by his supernatural god through supernatural signs. These two commitments cannot conflict because only by the use of his own critical reason can Socrates determine the true meaning of any of these signs [emphasis in original].²¹

For Vlastos, then, the voice of Socrates’ daimonion is inferior to, and dependent upon, his reasoning and rationality. To justify this interpretation, Vlastos cites Plato’s Crito 46b, where Socrates states, “I am not only now but always a man who follows nothing but the reasoning which on consideration seems to me best.”²² Yet Brickhouse and Smith have noted that Socrates does not make this claim to secure what Vlastos gets out of it, between reason and a sign from his daimonion (or between rationality and divination), but rather contrasts his commitment to reason with the unreflective and unfounded views of the many.²³ Furthermore, they suggest that the appearance of the daimonion is interpreted by Socrates as a reason in itself for desisting from the action that he is about to embark upon.²⁴ They note, however, that the appearance of the daimonion sometimes seems to “trump” ratiocination; that in several instances Socrates unhesitatingly follows the daimonion even if it contradicts his course of reasoning, up to that point, for following an action.²⁵ Mark McPherran has made the excellent point that for Socrates reason plays a necessary role in the interpretation and confirmation of extrarational indicators (such as the daimonion); whenever possible, such signs must be rationally inspected, especially if they forbid what would otherwise be morally warranted.²⁶ Yet he concludes that “Socratic revelation will always appear in the docket of Socratic reason,” implying a view of reason as Socrates’ ultimate epistemological commitment, in agreement with Vlastos.²⁷ A certain anxiety regarding the relationship between rationality and divination (particularly the daimonion) in Plato’s portrayal of Socrates remains evident in modern scholarship.

The Daimonion of Socrates as Personal Daimon

For the later Neoplatonists, such as Proclus, Socrates’ divine voice was seen as his personal or guardian daimon—they had no hesitation in attributing the divine voice to a daimon, a semidivine being who, according to the seminal statement of Plato’s Symposium, was an intermediary between gods and humans, between the divine and human realms.²⁸ While modern scholars generally argue that the daimonion of Socrates is not portrayed as a daimon in Plato’s dialogues, let alone as a personal daimon, this notion had a long history in the Platonic tradition, and the Middle Platonist philosophers also interpreted the daimonion as the guardian daimon of Socrates.²⁹ Daimones in general played an important role in Neoplatonism: they were considered to transmit divine goods to human beings and to act as intermediaries between human and divine; for this reason, they were often attributed a significant role in divination, such as transmitting oracles to humans from the gods.³⁰ Proclus states that the function of daimones is service and assistance to the gods; he further claims that all daimones have a leader god whom they follow and whose characteristics they represent and transmit.³¹

From Plotinus onward, Neoplatonists subscribed to the doctrine of a “personal” or “guardian” daimon allotted to each individual human soul to guard and guide it. In doing so, they drew explicitly on a passage in Plato’s Phaedo, where Plato speaks of “the daimon of each person, to whom he has been allotted in life,”³² as well as the eschatological myth of Er in Plato’s Republic, where Socrates asserts: “No daimon shall be allotted to you, but you shall choose your own daimon,” relating to the human soul’s choice of its next life and, consequently, its daimon.³³ Plotinus had written a treatise entitled The Daimon Who Has Been Allotted to Us (Enn. III.4), exploring the precise nature of the personal daimon. He claims that the personal daimon is the element attached to us superior to the active principle within us. As John Dillon has noted, it is the element “which is superior to the ‘centre of gravity’ of our consciousness or personality.”³⁴ Plotinus (Enn. III.4.3) expands on this notion: “If the working principle is that by which we have sense-perception, the spirit is the rational principle; but if we live by the rational principle, the spirit is what is above this.” Attempting to expand on Plotinus’s analysis of personal daimones, Proclus sets out their specific functions in his Alcibiades I Commentary:

For he [i.e., the personal daimon] who guides aright our whole life, fulfilling both the choices we have made before our birth, the gifts of fate and of the gods who guide it, and further bestowing in due measure the illuminations of providence, such is our guardian daimon. As souls we are dependent upon the intellect alone, but as souls using a body we are in need of the guardian daimon…. The guardian daimon alone moves, controls and orders all our affairs, since it perfects the reason, moderates the emotions, infuses nature, maintains the body, supplies accidentals, fulfills the decrees of fate and bestows the gifts of providence; and this one being is ruler of all that lies in us and concerns us, steering our whole life.³⁵

Proclus attributes a range of functions to the personal daimon: bringing fate and providence to the human soul, perfecting the reason, moderating the emotions, and maintaining the body. One claim of Proclus here, that it is the status of humans as souls using a body which necessitates the presence of the personal daimon, is also found in Iamblichus’s comments on the personal daimon in his treatise De Mysteriis.³⁶ There Iamblichus had been chiefly concerned with explaining how human beings can have contact with the personal daimon through theurgy in response to Porphyry’s questions concerning whether identification of and contact with the personal daimon can be gleaned through the practice of astrology.³⁷ Iamblichus, however, had set out some of the precise characteristics of the personal daimon in the course of his discussion, agreeing with Proclus in rejecting the identification of the personal daimon with any part of the soul, such as the rational soul or the individual intellect, the latter of which was a common theory among the later Stoics.³⁸ Given the prevalence of the notion of a personal daimon in Neoplatonism, it is unsurprising that Proclus identifies Socrates’ daimonion with his personal daimon. Yet the question as to why Socrates hears his daimon remains, and it is to this issue that I now turn.

Socrates as Prophet of Apollo

Socrates’ ability and capacity to actually hear his daimon and to subsequently follow its advice was taken as evidence by Proclus that Socrates was a seer, a mantis, who could hear the messages of the divine and communicate them to others.³⁹ Indeed, some modern scholars have also claimed that the daimonion represents a species of divination;⁴⁰ furthermore, this explanation accords with Socrates’ description of it as his “customary divination” (ἡ εἰωθυῖά μοι μαντικὴ ἡ τοῦ δαιμονίου) and himself as mantis.⁴¹ For Proclus, listening to the voice of the daimon was akin to experiencing a state of possession or inspiration, similar to that of the Pythia at Delphi, who was considered to convey the divine wisdom of Apollo through entering an alternative state of consciousness. Socrates’ divine guidance was also seen as connecting him above all with Apollo, the god of oracles and divination par excellence: indeed, Proclus explicitly ranks the daimon of Socrates as being under the power of Apollo and elsewhere implicitly seems to call Socrates “the close pupil of Apollo” (τὸν τοῦ Ἀπόλλωνος ὀαριστὴν), along with Plato and anyone else who follows the Apollonian path.⁴² Again, many modern scholars have recognized that the daimonion seems to be linked by Socrates to Apollo and to the service he does for the god in his philosophical mission.⁴³

Yet Apollo was also considered to be the god of truth; for the later Neoplatonists, this meant he was especially connected with philosophy, rationality, and perhaps discursive reasoning.⁴⁴ Nonetheless, it is vital to remember that, for the Neoplatonists, the goal of philosophy was divinization, a term that expresses the notion of “assimilation to god as far as possible,” which the Neoplatonists took from Plato’s Theaetetus (176b) to define their philosophy.⁴⁵ They considered philosophy to be a process of divinization, a quest for assimilation with the divine. Dominic J. O’Meara has offered an extensive analysis of divinization in Neoplatonism, relating it (in late Neoplatonism) to the progressive hierarchy of virtues achieved through the progressive scale of the sciences (parts of philosophy) as exemplified by the teaching curriculum of the later Neoplatonists.⁴⁶ Thus he clarifies the mutually entailing intellectual and ethical dimensions of divinization; the inextricably linked nature of these dimensions of divinization is clearly based on the Platonic (or Socratic) theme that knowledge is virtue.⁴⁷ In later Neoplatonism, theurgy was considered central to the process of divinization, seen as the culmination of philosophy,⁴⁸ and this introduced a ritual dimension to divinization. Hence assimilation to the divine, or “becoming like a god,” entails the attainment of a divine perspective, seeing all things unitarily, as the gods did.⁴⁹ The state reached was one of suprarationality, but for the later Neoplatonists, rationality and discursive reasoning operated on a continuum with suprarational states, because truth was seen as coexisting with the gods.⁵⁰ According to such a view, noetic reality is both the causal origin of rationality and reason⁵¹ and the purpose or culmination of rationality (the place to which rationality leads, in the appropriate conditions). Therefore, suprarational experience of noetic reality was seen not only as the culmination of philosophical investigation but often as the protreptic starting point of philosophical investigation as exemplified by the method of Socratic elenchus. The late Neoplatonic view of rationality is therefore much broader than modern views of rationality, for divine wisdom was considered to encompass (and thus cause) all rationality but in a unified and complete sense.⁵²

The implications of such a starkly different view of rationality for assessments of Socrates are momentous: in the Neoplatonic view, Socrates becomes the fullest culmination of the philosophical life; precisely because he is the philosopher par excellence, Socrates hears the voice of his daimon. The Middle Platonist philosophers Apuleius and Plutarch gave a similar explanation for Socrates’ ability to hear the voice of his daimon: they attributed this ability to his wisdom, the purified nature of his philosophical understanding, and way of life.⁵³ Proclus maintains that Socrates is a special μἀντις, a genuine prophet rather than merely “prophetic” (μαντικὸς), since the former “possess[es] something superior to man’s knowledge.”⁵⁴ In accordance with the Neoplatonic view that suprarational, divinatory states can act as a protreptic toward philosophical investigation, Socrates is seen as embarking upon his philosophical mission because of his capacity to hear and listen to the divine. Proclus does not explicitly refer to Socrates’ attribution of his philosophical mission and practice of the elenchus to the Delphic oracle’s pronouncement that none is wiser than he, as described in Plato’s Apology; yet this episode implicitly forms the backdrop to his views of Socrates’ philosophical practices. Drawing explicitly on Socrates’ comments at Phaedo 84e1–85b8, Proclus speaks as follows:

Let this then be the start of philosophy, and of the teaching of Plato viz., the knowledge of ourselves. For I think it befits the familiar friend of Apollo (τὸν τοῦ Ἀπόλλωνος ὀαριστὴν) to begin the perfection of the imperfect from the same starting point as the god himself bids. Since Socrates also, who asserts that he is the “fellow-slave of the swans” and has not less than they received the gift of prophecy from the god (παρὰ τοῦ θεοῦ τὴν μαντικὴν), is said to have begun his impulse towards philosophy by coming upon the Pythian inscription and considering it to be the bidding, as it were, of Apollo himself.⁵⁵

Here the god Apollo is envisaged as the guardian of both philosophy and prophecy, and thus of both rationality and divination. Moreover, the injunction “Know thyself” recorded on the temple at Delphi is interpreted as the starting point of philosophy in general and of Socrates’ philosophical investigations in particular.⁵⁶ Plutarch also claims that it was this Delphic inscription that set Socrates off on his philosophical inquiries.⁵⁷ Proclus considers Socrates’ philosophical journey to have begun from Apollo’s injunction, from the divine itself; the implication is that divination is seen as a protreptic toward philosophy and elenctic inquiry.⁵⁸ While Proclus’s claims go much further, it is worth noting that any Greek would have thought it well advised to decipher the meaning of an oracle making personal reference to oneself in view of the Delphic oracle’s reputed past dealings with such figures as Croesus and Oedipus; furthermore, various scholars have noted the common ancient assumption that one should use one’s reason to interpret the meaning of oracular pronouncements and, in connection with this, the frequent debates that occurred in antiquity regarding the correct interpretation of oracles.⁵⁹

The view sketched above of the mutual inclusivity of rationality and suprarationality is well illustrated in Proclus’s Commentary on the First Alcibiades, when Proclus notes why Socrates waited so many years to converse with Alcibiades. This was not due to any lack of desire on the philosopher’s part; rather, Socrates explains that his silence arose from the opposition of his daimonion.⁶⁰ Proclus represents this as inspiring wonder in Alcibiades, which catapults him into his first philosophical pursuit:

Socrates astounds Alcibiades still further by making the cause of human pursuits depend on the daimonic, in order that he may appear wonderful to him not only as a man, but also as acting in accordance with a daimon and possessing something superior to human virtue, viz., spiritual inspiration (τὴν ἐκ τοῦ δαιμονίου ἐπίπνοιαν)…. Already then, Socrates is revealed as someone inspired by a daimon (δείκνυται οὖν ἤδη καὶ δαιμόνιός τις ὁ Σωκράτης), arousing greater astonishment in Alcibiades and multiplying his wonder as regards philosophy.⁶¹

The sense of wonder that leads human beings to begin philosophical investigation had been discussed by both Plato and Aristotle.⁶² For Proclus, this sense of wonder and awe in itself becomes a state inspired by divinity.⁶³ Wonder is explicitly characterized as marking the beginning of the philosophical path and, thus, the path toward divinization; wonder inspires and puzzles the beholder, impelling him to deeper levels of investigation, while simultaneously delineating a level of suitability for both philosophical investigation and conscious participation in the divine (in Alc. 42.5–43.2). In fact, Proclus maintains, “The more we become consciously aware of the influence of the superior beings the more we stand in amazement at them” (ὅσῳ γὰρ πλέον συναισθανόμεθα τῆς τῶν κρειττόνων δυνάμεως, τοσούτῳ μᾶλλον αὐτοὺς τεθήπαμεν, in Alc. 166.1–2). Proclus presents Socrates’ familiarity and assimilation with the divine, as evidenced by his ability to hear his daimon, as a cause of wonder to Alcibiades: “Both when silent, then, and when giving utterance, the good man is worthy of wonder in the eyes of those who have a kindred nature…. It seems, then, that the young man, astounded on both accounts, both at Socrates’ silence and his words, positively regards him as a guardian daimon. To follow about in silence is characteristic of a guardian daimon, since they are accustomed to call the good daimon our ‘fellow traveller’ and they say that he accompanies us from divine impulse.”⁶⁴ Alcibiades’ sense of wonder in this case points toward Socrates’ role as acting as a guardian daimon (by analogy) for Alcibiades, as will be discussed later.

The “Divine” Daimon of Socrates

In addition to characterizing the daimonion as Socrates’ personal daimon, Proclus identifies three key characteristics of it: first, his daimonion is the most “divine” type of personal daimon that a human being can have (in Alc. 78.10–79.6); second, for Proclus, Socrates was aware of a voice issuing from his daimon (in Alc. 79.15–17; 79.17–80.1); and third, the daimonion never exhorted Socrates but recalled or prohibited him from certain actions (in Alc. 80.19–20). Proclus claims that this latter characteristic is unusual and peculiar to Socrates (in Alc. 80.21–81.1). With regard to the first characteristic, Proclus states:

… concerning the guardian daimon of Socrates. Three main points are made about it: one, that it is not only a daimon, but also a god (ὡς οὐ μόνον δαίμων ἐστίν, ἀλλὰ καὶ ὡς θεός). Further on in this dialogue, he states clearly “My guardian is better than your uncle Pericles, O Alcibiades: he is a god, who would not allow me to converse with you.” He calls the same being, then, daimon and god; for what was the subject of a previous remark “a daimonic opposition, whose force you will learn of later,” he now terms a god, since this it is which supplies the reason for his silence in the past. Furthermore he provides clearer indications of its rank in the Apology, and reveals that it has been allotted a godlike preeminence within the daimonic nature. This is just what we said before, that the (guardian) daimons of godlike souls who have chosen an intelligent and elevating life are of a certain godlike number superior to the whole class of daimons and participating primarily in the gods.⁶⁵

Proclus argues that the daimonion of Socrates is of the most divine and godlike kind because, among all the kinds of personal daimon, it participates most primarily in the gods.⁶⁶ Proclus sets out six orders or levels of daimon, ranging from divine daimones (as the highest rank), through the noetic, psychic, physical, and corporeal levels, down to material daimones, classified according to their roles and functions (Proclus, in Alc. 71.1–72.12). As John Dillon notes, he appears from the text (τῶν γἀρ δαιμόνων τούτων) to intend all of these to be classes of personal daimon; however, a persuasive emendation of Westerink of τούτων to πάντων would solve this problem, and make this an introductory statement of Proclus about the whole range of daimones.⁶⁷ Indeed, this emendation seems to be correct, given that Proclus then goes on to state that only the first two, the divine and the noetic, fill the role of personal daimones (in Alc. 72.18–73.4). Proclus sets out the characteristics of the divine level of personal or guardian daimon: “The divine spirits, then, are those which are guardians of souls according to their essential nature and unite them to their appropriate rulers; and every soul, even if it accompanies its own god, requires such a daimon.”⁶⁸ The highest class of personal or guardian daimones are said to act as the guardians of souls according to their “essential nature” and unite them to their leader gods. The implication of this statement is that it is those who have fully discovered their “essential nature,” those who have gained complete self-knowledge, who follow in the path of their leader god and have the highest type of daimon as their guardian.⁶⁹ The reasoning for this becomes clearer when Proclus contrasts it with the second grade of daimon:

But the second class of daimones watch over the ascents and descents of souls, and from among these are the choices made by the majority of souls; since the most perfect souls, who associate with birth without defilement, as they choose the manner of life appropriate to their own god, so also they live according to the divine daimon (οὕτω καὶ κατὰ δαίμονα ζῶσι τὸν θεῖον), who also when they abode on high united them to the appropriate god (τῷ οἰκείῳ θεῷ); and for this reason the Egyptian marvelled at Plotinus as possessing a divine daimon (ὡς θεῖον ἔχοντα τὸν δαίμονα). The souls, then, that live after a manner that returns to their origin have the same daimon on high and in this world, but for the less perfect the daimon that corresponds to the way of life they have set before them differs from the daimon who accords with their essential nature.⁷⁰

Proclus maintains that “perfect souls,” those who “associate with birth without defilement,” have chosen a way of life appropriate to their own leader god and their divine daimon; therefore they have the same daimon throughout their various human lives and both when in and not in a body.⁷¹ Proclus contrasts these “divine” daimones with the daimones of the second rank who are concerned with the ascents and descent of souls, and who therefore act as the guardians of the majority of humans, who are in the process of descent and ascent. The implication of this contrast is that “perfect souls” have already ascended to the gods (which is possibly the implication of the phrase αἱ ἀποκαταστατικῶς ζώσαι ψυχαί, “the souls that live after a manner that returns to their origin,” at 73.5–6), and this is why they have the same daimon throughout and between their human incarnations.⁷² Proclus clearly states that Socrates is such a “perfect soul” with a divine daimon, and he also includes Plotinus among this select group, referring to the famous story recounted by Porphyry regarding the Egyptian priest who conjured Plotinus’s daimon and was amazed to discover that it was a god (Life of Plotinus 10). In fact, Porphyry seems to understand this episode in a similar sense to Proclus: that Plotinus had a divine-like daimon: “So the companion of Plotinus was a daimon of the more god-like kind, and he continually kept the eye of his soul fixed on this companion” (Τῶν οὖν θειοτέρων δαιμόνων ἔχων τὸν συνόντα καὶ αὐτὸς διετέλει ἀνάγων αὐτοῦ τὸ θεῖον ὄμμα πρὸς ἐκεῖνον).⁷³ Rather intriguingly, Porphyry claims that this event inspired Plotinus to write his treatise entitled The Daimon Who Has Been Allotted to Us, an interesting case of a ritual inspiring philosophical work.⁷⁴

Listening to the Voice of the Daimon

Proclus maintains that the second important characteristic of the daimonion of Socrates is that Socrates was aware of a voice issuing from it.⁷⁵ Proclus explicates the operation of the daimon as follows: “… as regards the actual operation of the daimon he received the light proceeding therefrom not merely in the discursive reason or the powers of conjecture, but also in the vehicle of the soul (τῷ πνεύματι), the spirit-like irradiation passing suddenly through all the levels of his life and even arousing sense-perception. For it is clear that although the activity of the spirit is the same, reason enjoys its gift in one way, imagination in another, sensation in yet another, and each of the elements within us reacts and is moved individually by the daimon.”⁷⁶ Proclus explains that Socrates hears the voice of his daimon because it illuminates his soul-vehicle and therefore passes through his cognitive faculties: through his reason, imagination, and perception. The idea of the “vehicle of the soul” finds its first developed expression in the work of Porphyry and Iamblichus, although it was further developed by Proclus and other later Neoplatonists.⁷⁷ It was considered to have a central role as a bridge between the soul and body, and consequently had a mediating and median nature, since it was considered to be less material than the physical body but more material than the soul.

Since the illumination of the daimon irradiates the soul of Socrates and his cognitive faculties (reason, imagination, perception) through the vehicle of the soul, Proclus concludes that the inspiration from the daimon experienced by Socrates comes from within him⁷⁸ rather than arriving from outside as an external impression: “It was not from without, then, in the manner of an impression, that the voice impinged upon Socrates, but the inspiration from within, ranging through the whole of the soul and penetrating as far as the organs of sense-perception (ἔνδοθεν διὰ πάσης φοιτήσασα τῆς ψυχῆς ἡ ἐπίπνοια καὶ μέχρι τῶν αἰσθητικῶν ὀργάνων διαδραμοῦσα), finally becoming a voice, recognized by inner awareness rather than perception; for such are the illuminations of the good daimones and of the gods.”⁷⁹ This statement is very much in line with Neoplatonic views of inspiration and possession. I have argued elsewhere that Iamblichus’s views of divine possession and divination are based upon the notion that the gods work through the human soul; in relation to the human being’s experience of divination and divine possession, the gods are conceptualized as internal (working through the faculties of the human soul) and as external (in a causal sense that preserves the attribution of a divine transcendence but not in a spatial or temporal sense). Thus, the human soul is considered to have an active, instrumental agency that works in conjunction with the (more powerful) divine agency; the divine is therefore not conceptualized as a totally alien agency overcoming its human victim.⁸⁰ Divine possession is considered within later Neoplatonism as a phenomenon involving a transcendent and simultaneously immanent deity working through the soul of the possessed. Since the deity is conceived as already being linked to the human soul causally and ontologically, the divine possession is conceived of not as annihilating the human consciousness but as replacing it with divine consciousness, representing an enhancement of the human being’s power and perception.⁸¹ In fact, Proclus explicitly calls Socrates “an instrument of the divine” (ὄργανον τοῦ θείου) and an “instrumental” cause, while attributing to the divine the “primary efficient cause.”⁸²

Socrates as an Agent of Divine Providence

Proclus sets out the third characteristic of Socrates’ daimon: that it never gives positive injunctions but always gives prohibitions, deterring him from certain courses of action. Proclus claims that this characteristic is unusual and particularly relates to Socrates’ character and “divine-like” nature:

This again is to be referred to the life led by Socrates; for it is not something common to our guardian daimones but peculiar to the care of Socrates. We declare, then, that the good character of Socrates’ way of life, his courtesy, humanity and “unreserved” nature (τὸ ἀγαθοειδὲς τῆς τοῦ Σωκράτους ζωῆς καὶ τὸ κοινὸν καὶ τὸ φιλάνθρωπον καὶ τὸ ἐκκεχυμένον), as I think he himself says, had no need of encouragement from the guardian daimon as regards the communication of benefits, for he started out of his own accord and made himself readily available to all comers for the purpose of associating in the best way of life.⁸³

Proclus maintains that Socrates’ divine-like nature ensures that the philosopher needs no kind of encouragement in order to pursue wisdom and to engage in elenchus with anyone who will converse with him; consequently, he needs no positive exhortations from the daimonion. It is worth noting that Apuleius (De Deo Socratis 19.1–9) makes exactly the same point about the daimonion. Proclus consistently portrays Socrates as “overflowing” (ὑπερπλῆρες) with goodness in the sense of his eager nature to do the good due to his assimilation to the divine: Socrates manifests or imitates the One, the action of divine providence and of the gods themselves, who are considered to be “filled” with divine love, which they transmit throughout the cosmos and to lower entities.⁸⁴ Proclus identifies two key elements in “divine and daimonic providence toward the secondary beings” (τῆς τε θείας καὶ τῆς δαιμονίας εἰς τὰ δεύτερα προνοίας): (1) that it passes through everything, through every ontological level, and leaves nothing without a share of itself; (2) that it admits nothing that it controls into itself, nor is it infected by or confused with the inferior beings or objects that it arranges.⁸⁵ He maintains that these two characteristics are present in Socrates’ forethought: “This daimonic and divine providence (τὴν δαιμονίαν τε καὶ θείαν πρόνοιαν), then, Plato clearly attributes to the beneficent forethought of Socrates for the less perfect, both maintaining its vigilance and stability (as regards the beloved) and its full use of any opportunity for zeal, and at the same its detached, unadulterated and undefiled character.”⁸⁶ The overflowing and abundant nature of divine providence is expressed in Socrates’ beneficent forethought, which is demonstrated by his vigilance and stability and in his “full use of any opportunity for zeal.”⁸⁷ Proclus repeatedly emphasizes Socrates’ ability to imitate and manifest the action of divine providence.⁸⁸ He connects this ability with the philosopher’s divine-like nature and, consequently, with his having the most divine type of personal daimon, for he states: “We assert that when souls abide with the gods they act intelligently and enjoy both the will of the gods, which is the form of the good, and their uncontaminated giving.”⁸⁹ For Proclus, it is the status of Socrates as a divine-like soul and, consequently, his assimilation with the good, that explains the apotreptic rather than protreptic nature of the admonitions of the daimonion: “… it is clear that it is not necessarily required that the guardian daimon should stir us to action; but when our purpose accords with the good, even his not deterring nor preventing us is an indication that the action is appropriate for us. Therefore Socrates, when prevented, obeyed his guardian daimon, but when the latter ceased his opposition, considering that converse with his beloved was permitted him, he duly approached him with confidence.”⁹⁰ Proclus thus attributes the apotreptic nature of the warnings of the daimonion to the fact that Socrates does not need positive encouragement because his purpose accords with the good, as demonstrated by his eager nature to engage all in elenchus and to pursue wisdom unstintingly; these qualities are themselves seen as expressions of divine providence. This theory provides a comprehensive explanation for Socrates’ statement at the end of the Apology that the verdict is in accordance with the will of the gods due to the silence of the daimonion.

The Kairos and Receptivity

Yet the question remains as to exactly why the daimonion would give prohibitions or warnings; Proclus addresses this very issue:

But since many of those who approached him were unsuited (ἀνεπιτήδειοι) to participation in the pursuits of virtue and the knowledge of universal reality, the good guardian daimon restrained him from exercising his forethought in regard to such characters…. The unsuitability (ἀνεπιτηδειότητες) of those who approach for the most part escapes human reason and requires the discernment of the daimon, and the distinguishing of opportune moments (αἱ τῶν καιρῶν διαγνώσεις) can be suggested to us accurately by this means alone; men have devised certain methods and techniques for this purpose, but even so the resultant apprehension is obscure and falls very far short of the indications given by the good daimones.⁹¹

Proclus maintains that the prohibitions of the daimon relate to the “unsuitability” (ἀνεπιτήδειοι) of those who approached him.⁹² This word derives from the term ἐπιτηδειότης, meaning “receptivity,” “fitness,” or “suitability.” Iamblichus’s notion of the “receptivity” (ἐπιτηδειότης) of the theurgist (the practitioner who engages in theurgic ritual) forms a cornerstone of theurgy.⁹³ Leonard George identifies four semantic domains of the term ἐπιτηδειότης, all of which seem to have influenced Iamblichus’s formation of ritual receptivity: potential, sympathy, receptivity, and aptitude.⁹⁴ Iamblichus maintains that the theurgists had to purify and prepare themselves through ritual, intellectual, and ethical means in order to be prepared to receive divine visions and messages through divination. He repeatedly emphasizes that divine illumination is constantly available and omnipresent in the mortal world, yet the ritual practitioners’ receptivity must have been properly cultivated so that they are ready to fully receive these divine illuminations.⁹⁵

Proclus’s claim that the daimonion prohibited Socrates from conversing with certain personages because of their “unsuitability” (ἀνεπιτήδειοι) suggests a view of the necessity of the person engaging in philosophical elenchus to be “receptive” or “suitable” (ἐπιτηδειότης) in order to undergo the elenctic process. This view may seem strange to modern Westerners who see discursive rationality as wholly objective; Proclus’s view suggests, to the contrary, that the condition of the subject who engages in discursive reasoning is a vital prerequisite or, in other words, that receptivity (ἐπιτηδειότης) is necessary to engender the appropriate conditions in the would-be respondents so that they can fully receive the “purification” and truth that the elenctic method can bring.⁹⁶ While this notion may seem strange to us, it is worth remembering that educational research and psychology often notes the importance of the teacher beginning from and building upon the student’s current knowledge, experience, and skills.⁹⁷ In a sense, the notion of “receptivity” represents an extension of such pedagogical observations.⁹⁸ Significantly, the notion that one has to be “receptive” in order to engage in philosophical elenchus as effectively as possible provides a comprehensive justification of the Neoplatonic teaching curriculum, with its specific ordering of (and thus progression through) Platonic dialogues for teaching purposes.

In fact, Proclus explicitly states that Socrates uses elenchus in a way suited to the specific characters according to their suitability and receptivity (ἐπιτηδειότης):

For everywhere Socrates pronounces the discourses in a manner suited to the characters in question; and as in the godhead all goods preexist in the form of the One, but different individuals enjoy different goods according to the natural capacity of each, so also Socrates embraces all the forms of knowledge within himself, but uses now one now another, adjusting his own activity to the requirements of the recipients…. According, then, to the measure of suitability (ἐπιτηδειότης) that each person possesses, so he is perfected by Socrates and elevated to the divine (ἀνάγεται πρὸς τὸ θεῖον) according to his own rank [my emphasis].⁹⁹

Proclus maintains that Socrates adjusts his elenctic activity according to the requirements of the recipients, according to the measure of “suitability” they possess. This view makes more sense if one remembers that for the later Neoplatonists discursive rationality and reason are considered to be part of a continuum, along with suprarational states of consciousness; this continuum entails the possibility that those who engage in elenchus when they are fully receptive can attain suprarational vision and insight (noesis). Within Neoplatonism, rationality and reasoning are themselves seen ultimately as gifts from the gods: thus, the process of elenchus is considered to be a step on the path toward assimilation with the divine and divinization.¹⁰⁰ As argued earlier, the notion of divinization involves intellectual and ethical preparation: consequently, engaging in elenchus with the utmost receptivity involves purification through the cultivation of the hierarchy of virtues:¹⁰¹ a concept clearly based on the Platonic dictum that knowledge is virtue.

Proclus’s claim that the “unsuitability” (ἀνεπιτήδειοι) of those who approach Socrates mostly “escapes human reason and requires the discernment of the daimon” can seem strange, given that Proclus has spoken of Socrates as assimilated to the divine and having the most “divine” daimon a person can have. If, however, one remembers that the Neoplatonic sage was considered to have touched Nous and gained a knowledge of universals, Proclus’s claim becomes clearer. From this perspective, the “unsuitability” of human beings is connected to the interaction and relationship of universals and particulars, as are all human matters. In order to fully understand and contextualize the relationship between universals and particulars, the Neoplatonists claim that the help of a divine being, a daimon, is needed. In his treatise Ten Doubts Concerning Providence, Proclus states that the gods and daimones have foreknowledge of the indefinite because the gods possess the forms and causes of all indefinite phenomena (and transmit this knowledge to daimones).¹⁰² Such definite knowledge of the indefinite and contingent is possible, according to Proclus, because grades of knowledge should be rated on the basis of the subject of knowing rather than on the basis of the object known, a view that accords with his constant emphasis on the importance of the “receptivity” or “suitability” (ἐπιτηδειότης) of the subject.¹⁰³ Thus gods and daimones were considered to have a universal knowledge of particulars—in other words, they were considered to know particulars from an eternal, complete, and unified perspective in relation to the whole of reality; they understood completely the complex interrelationships between universals and particulars.¹⁰⁴ Therefore, the complex multiplicity of material events and causes do not obscure their vision, as they were thought to do in the case of human understanding.

An important qualification is necessary here: it should not be thought that “receptivity” (ἐπιτηδειότης) was conceived of as a static or permanent state; rather, it is conceptualized as a dynamic and changing state related to human beings’ movement through time and their development of their capacities and abilities. The “receptivity” (ἐπιτηδειότης) of the individual is construed as a kind of instrumental power or agency for the human, since it is seen as the active cultivation of qualities or aptitudes that enable contact with the divine.¹⁰⁵ Therefore, human beings can enhance their level of “receptivity” so as to be more fully suitable to engage in certain activities. The Neoplatonic idea of receptivity has to be considered in relation to two central doctrines: (1) the theory of recollection, whereby all human souls are said to possess knowledge in their souls in some way that they “recollect”; and (2) the doctrine of rebirth, whereby all human souls are reincarnated in a succession of lives.¹⁰⁶ Ultimately, then, according to this view, all human souls will eventually become fully receptive, attain divinization, and ascend to the gods.¹⁰⁷ The key question, according to this schema, is when this will occur—and here the notion of the kairos, the “right” or “opportune” moment, becomes significant.

Viewing receptivity as a dynamic state resolves any possible contradiction between Proclus’ claim that Socrates recognized in Alcibiades tokens of his “suitability” (ἐπιτηδειότης) for virtue and Proclus’ assertion that the daimon had prevented Socrates from conversing with him for many years due to his apparent “unsuitability” (ἀνεπιτήδειοι).¹⁰⁸ The notion of the kairos, the right or opportune moment, comes into play here, as Proclus explains:

The imparting of learning, if accomplished at the right moment (κατὰ καιρὸν), and purification of life, if its application is timely, afford to the recipients thereof a benefit many times greater. Just as the gods, by assigning to souls in a due order remedies for their faults and fruits in due season, benefit them, so also godlike men subordinately aim at the right moment (τοῦ καιροῦ) and beneficence towards the less perfect according thereto: the gods intelligently and divinely determining the measure of right time (νοερῶς καὶ θείως ἀφορίζοντες τὰ μέτρα τῶν καιρῶν), men seeking to find it by scientific knowledge, and others again making their quest thereof by the inspiration of their guardian daimon (κατὰ τὴν δαιμονίαν ἐπίπνοιαν). Communion with good daimones is of great weight to souls involved in process toward the unmistaken discernment of the right moment (τῆς ἀναμαρτήτου τῶν καιρῶν διαγνώσεως); and therefore Socrates also, in this matter stirred by the guardian daimon and led by love itself, has discovered this as the best possible moment (τὸν ἄριστον καιρὸν) for beneficence to his beloved.¹⁰⁹

The idea of the kairos is based on the notion that “different portions of time are suited to different activities” (χρόνου μόρια ἄλλο ἄλλαις ἐφαρμόττει πράξεσι).¹¹⁰ Proclus maintains that “godlike men” aim at the right moment in order to benefit the less perfect as effectively as possible and that communication or contact with daimones assists such men in discerning the kairos. Proclus further elucidates the purpose and scope of the kairos: “… individual activities have different times suited to their accomplishment. Such time is the right moment (καιρός) for each activity as supplying the good and the ultimate purpose to the doers and to what is actually being done.”¹¹¹ Proclus claims that the kairos represents the right moment for the most effective action to take place, the moment where the purpose of the action is most likely to be fulfilled. Therefore, the idea of the kairos is clearly linked with the notion of receptivity, for the kairos is envisaged as the moment when the person is most fully receptive to receive what is about to bestowed, whether this be through elenchus (discursive reasoning) or through ritual.¹¹² Proclus’s discussion of the kairos makes it clear that he envisages the daimonion of Socrates as assisting the philosopher in discerning the kairos—the “opportune” or “appropriate” moment or time for others to engage in the elenchus, the moment when the would-be respondents have become fully “receptive” or “suitable” to do so.

Socrates as a Daimon

Finally, Proclus maintains that Socrates himself acts as a daimon toward Alcibiades:

To purify the person in need of such aid through his own agency is the work of a daimon-like power, since the daimones do not operate upon us from without (ἔξωθεν) but as it were “guide us from within, from the stern” (οἷον ἐκ πρύμνης ἡμᾶς ἔνδοθεν κατευθύνουσιν); nor do they purify us as bodies that have a nature which is extrinsically moved, but heal us throughout as persons who are self-moved (αὐτοκινήτους). It is in this way that they confer upon us both participation in what is good (μεταδόσεις τῶν ἀγαθῶν) and purification of the emotions. Socrates, then, established in the position of a good daimon, shows the daimon as bringing the refutation upon the young man through his own agency, since to situate the cause of the refutations in the respondent proves that purifier and purified are one, but really the cause of such purification is of the daimonic-order.¹¹³

The “purification” of Alcibiades refers to his purification from false opinions through the elenchus; Proclus maintains that although Socrates initiates the elenchus as philosophical teacher and lover, such purification occurs primarily through Alcibiades’ own agency. This is because he holds that the process of elenchus allows one’s innate logoi to purify false doxa, a notion clearly based on the Platonic theory of recollection.¹¹⁴ Therefore “the primary agent … of the pupil’s progress in knowledge is himself.”¹¹⁵ Proclus then draws an analogy between the operation of the questioner in the elenctic process and the operation of the daimones: both purify the individual through his or her own agency. As Dominic O’Meara has noted, “To illustrate the particular kind of action whereby the teacher stimulates the pupil in such a way as not to override the primary agency for which the pupil himself is responsible, Proclus refers to the way that gods and demons work upon us from within, not from without and in communion with our own natures as self-movers.”¹¹⁶ Proclus’s view of the elenchus is that it involves a process of self-purification, whereby “the purifier and the purified are one” (ἕνα … τὸν καθαίροντα καὶ καθαιρόμενον).¹¹⁷ In relation to the Neoplatonist view of the elenchus as a stage on the route to divinization, O’Meara states: “… for Proclus, the primary agency for the salvation of fallen souls is to be found in their own selves. In this sense these souls can save themselves. At the same time, however, another agent is required to provoke the souls into self-discovery, a teacher, a guide, a soul of superior insight, a Parmenides, a Socrates, a Plato, a Plotinus, a Syrianus.”¹¹⁸ These “divine-like” human teachers and guides, who can provoke souls into self-discovery, are considered to do so by assimilating themselves to the divine; consequently, they are able to express divine providence in the help they provide to other human souls.¹¹⁹ For it is the daimones (and thus the gods) who are seen as primarily provoking humans to self-discovery and purification through the human’s own agency; gods and daimones are viewed as operating on human beings from within, since the human soul is causally and ontologically connected with the divine.

Conclusion

Proclus provides a comprehensive analysis of the daimonion of Socrates, explaining the operation of the daimonion consistently, through the theory of the kairos, while preserving the unique particularity of the instances of the appearances of daimonion (since the kairos is always related to the interaction between “universals” and “particulars” at a particular, specific moment). Proclus identifies the daimonion as the personal daimon of Socrates, a notion that had a long history within the Platonic tradition. Of the three key characteristics of the daimonion identified by Proclus, two (first, that Socrates heard a voice from the daimonion, and second, that the daimonion only offered apotreptic warnings rather than protreptic advice) are generally accepted by modern scholars. The third characteristic, that the daimonion of Socrates is the most “divine” type of daimon a human being can have, correlates with Proclus’s claim of Socrates’ assimilation to the divine and his consequent “receptivity.” Proclus’s interpretation of the daimonion of Socrates accords with Neoplatonic views of inspiration, possession, and divination, which were viewed as suprarational rather than as irrational states. According to Proclus, the daimonion, through its apotreptic admonitions, shows Socrates the kairos, the opportune or right moment, to engage in philosophical elenchus. Thus, the daimonion is always linked with the elenchus, with discursive reasoning or rationality; it fulfills the function of a protreptic toward philosophical and rational inquiry at the most effective time, just as the Delphic oracle also acted (in a broader sense) as a protreptic for Socrates in embarking upon his philosophical mission. The explanation for this is that rationality is precontained, in a causal sense, in suprarational states of inspiration. The daimonion provides Socrates with the ability to discern the kairos, the right moment, in which to engage in elenchus with specific interlocutors; this kairos is based on the “receptivity” of the potential interlocutors. Moreover, Proclus persuasively suggests that Socrates hears the voice of his daimon because of his own essential perfection (which includes perfect “receptivity”) gained through his commitment to self-knowledge and his corresponding orientation toward the divine. Therefore, just as the daimonion provides Socrates with the kairos, the right moment to engage in philosophical elenchus, so Socrates acts as a daimon (by analogy) in engaging Alcibiades in elenchus at the right moment and thus allows him to purify himself through his own agency at the most effective moment through the elenctic method. In late Neoplatonism, Socrates is seen as the μἀντις par excellence, a prophet of Apollo, who exemplifies the prophetic, purificatory, and healing characteristics of the god through his ability to hear the daimonion and to consequently lead others towards potential divinization through engaging in philosophical elenchus at the most appropriate and effective time in relation to the individual’s receptivity. In this sense, Apollo is considered in this case to “work through” the soul of Socrates: Socrates is seen to “manifest” the prophetic, purificatory, and healing powers of Apollo through his service and assimilation to the god, exemplified through his consistent devotion to and engagement with both divination and philosophy.

Proclus’s account of the daimonion of Socrates displays an all-encompassing comprehensiveness and consistency, involving a complete and thorough integration of Plato’s portrayal of Socrates’ character, including both his rational and divinatory commitments. Unlike modern accounts that tend to exhibit a sense of anxiety about the relationship between rationality and religious states of inspiration in Plato’s characterization of Socrates, Proclus’s exposition shows a subtle yet ingenious linking of reason and suprarational, divinatory states within a continuum that enhances the scope and potential of both. Rather than presenting Socrates as an arch-rationalist or as an inspired mystic, Proclus’s exposition shows Socrates as both the dialectician and the inspired mystic par excellence. In this sense, Proclus’s account presents one of the most internally coherent and consistent solutions offered for the vexed question of the possible relationship and connection(s) between Socrates’ rational and religious commitments.