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; 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 forgetfullness in the minds of those who learn to use it,
because they will not practise 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 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 you please.
(…)
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 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 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 and help itself.
Plato
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