What does it mean to be?
What does it mean to be? For Plato, this question cannot be answered by pointing to matter or substance alone. Being is not mere existence, but a dynamic relation—a power, a movement, a participation in something higher. Across his dialogues, Plato reveals a pattern: the soul becomes real, and truth becomes knowable, only through an active and passive interplay—through a kind of divine contact. Whether in the metaphysical friction of motion and rest, the inspired naming of reality through language, or the god-touched chain of poetic rapture, Plato weaves a vision of being as something relational, luminous, and alive.
Let’s break this down through a few key moments in the dialogues:
1. Theaetetus and Sophist: Active and Passive Forces
In Theaetetus and especially Sophist [247d–248d], Plato discusses two kinds of motion:
Active force: that which affects.
Passive force: that which is affected.
These come together to produce perception, knowledge, and being. The key idea is that being is not just what exists like a lump of stuff, but rather that which has the capacity to interact— to affect and be affected. This interaction is often framed as a sort of divine intercourse—a union or contact between something higher (e.g., forms, the Good) and the soul.
When a soul is “moved” by something intelligible (a form), that movement brings about awareness or knowledge. The soul is the passive receptor, but once stirred, it can become active, reflecting or aligning itself toward higher truth.
2. Cratylus: Naming and Alignment with Being
In Cratylus, Plato explores the nature of names. He suggests that a true name (a noun or verb) must reflect the nature of the thing it names—it must align with being. Language is not arbitrary; when rightly used, it participates in truth and helps guide the soul toward the forms.
Verbs (action words) relate to the active element.
Nouns (substance or identity) often relate to the passive or received aspect of being.
So, when the soul names “the Good,” for example, it’s not just labeling something; it’s engaging in an act of alignment—seeking to tune itself to that reality, much like a magnet aligns with a field.
3. Ion: Divine Chains of Inspiration
In Ion, Plato introduces the metaphor of a magnetic chain, drawn from Socrates’ conversation with the rhapsode Ion. Here’s the passage:
“The Muse inspires a poet, and the poet inspires the rhapsode, and the rhapsode inspires the audience.” (Ion, 533d–535a)
This is a chain of divine power, where each link is both active and passive:
The Muse (or god) is active,
The poet is passive to the Muse but active to the rhapsode,
The rhapsode is passive to the poet but active toward the audience.
This idea prefigures Neoplatonic theories of emanation and spiritual hierarchy. Being flows down from the divine, and we are drawn up by receiving and responding rightly.
Putting It Together:
Across these dialogues, Plato is developing a mystical-metaphysical grammar:
The Good is the ultimate source—it acts without being acted upon.
The soul becomes real or “is” in the deepest sense when it aligns with this higher source through active reception—what later mystics would call contemplation or divine union.
Language, perception, and inspiration are all intermediate stages where this divine alignment happens—where the active and passive interlock and being is born.
So yes—Plato’s vision of being is not just ontological (what exists), but relational and spiritual. It’s about participating in truth through a chain of divine motion—like a magnet drawing magnets—linking souls back to their source.
