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I didn't read this translation (I read a free online one, transl. Jowett), so my comment concerns just the dialogue itself. I used to really not like Plato, but warmed up to him about 5 years ago, and generally love him now. The echo-chamber feel of everyone agreeing with Socrates--or in Sophist, Theaetetus agreeing with the Stranger much as he does with Socrates in "Theaetetus"--used to drive me mad, especially given that Socrates thinks everyone should be questioned on their claims. Now this feature of Plato's writing is white noise, even a bit amusing. So my advice is to just keep reading Plato and that style will bother you less.
The content of the argument in "Sophist" itself is both interesting and still relevant to today, particularly nowadays in this so-called post-truth world with its so-called alternative facts. The dialogue is about determining what makes a sophist a sophist, and in doing so brings a contrast between the sophist and the philosopher. Roughly, a sophist is one who peddles opinions that are rendered immune to criticism--let alone falsification-- by maintaining a shifty worldview that prevents a claim from being determined to be false. The argument for this is that because there's no such thing as non-being (we can't even imagine what it would be, nor any properties to attribute to it), and because saying something is false is making a claim about non-being, we can't claim whether something is false or not. This conveniently allows a sophist to wiggle out of any tough spot and seem an expert in all things-- all they have to do is make opinionated speeches on a subject. This is why Plato spends some time on laying out an alternative--and nowadays familiar-- way of understanding how some claim is false.
This hearkens back to the discussion in "Republic." The cave metaphor is helpful, I think, for Sophist, in that it illustrates the different levels of understanding a person can achieve. There are levels of images (or representations or imitations): the shadows on the wall that prisoners look at uncritically are cast from statues that are carried around by people in front of a fire (note that statues themselves are images/imitations). Outside the cave, there are reflections in a pool (also images), and then there are the forms themselves (not images). The sophist is one who is satisfied with images--probably not the shadows, but more likely the statues. It seems to me that they are in the cave. What suggests this is the discussion toward the end of "Sophist" that sophists are unconscious imitators-- they are unaware of stopping short of something better (the Truth). Philosophers, on the other hand, are the very least aware of when they are short of what's real and are only dabbling in opinion-- this puts them looking at least at the pool outside the cave, and they aspire to see the Forms themselves. This is illustrated repeatedly in Plato's dialogues by Socrates beginning and ending his investigations in perplexity and admitting he does not know. (Obviously the most well-known lines about this are in "The Apology.")
But I would be surprised if Plato was actually trying to make out like there are two different sorts of people-- the sophist and the philosopher. It makes more sense that these are personifications of two different styles of thinking, and that any one person is part philosopher, and part sophist. Each person is at least sometimes doing sophistry, and even a stubbornly anti-thinking type of person will act a philosopher when they're trying to find out if their partner is cheating on them. Sometimes only the hard truth will satisfy us, sometimes we're content with "truthiness." What the
"Sophist" says--as do other dialogues-- is we shouldn't be content with "truthiness," especially if we're not very conscious of the fact that we have hold of truthiness and not Truth. And the best way to do this is to be open to rigorous questioning, and not try to shy away with mental gymnastics. Otherwise we have deceptive beliefs, and we deceive ourselves, and if we spread our beliefs, we deceive others as well. Better to know when we know and to know when we do not know.
The content of the argument in "Sophist" itself is both interesting and still relevant to today, particularly nowadays in this so-called post-truth world with its so-called alternative facts. The dialogue is about determining what makes a sophist a sophist, and in doing so brings a contrast between the sophist and the philosopher. Roughly, a sophist is one who peddles opinions that are rendered immune to criticism--let alone falsification-- by maintaining a shifty worldview that prevents a claim from being determined to be false. The argument for this is that because there's no such thing as non-being (we can't even imagine what it would be, nor any properties to attribute to it), and because saying something is false is making a claim about non-being, we can't claim whether something is false or not. This conveniently allows a sophist to wiggle out of any tough spot and seem an expert in all things-- all they have to do is make opinionated speeches on a subject. This is why Plato spends some time on laying out an alternative--and nowadays familiar-- way of understanding how some claim is false.
This hearkens back to the discussion in "Republic." The cave metaphor is helpful, I think, for Sophist, in that it illustrates the different levels of understanding a person can achieve. There are levels of images (or representations or imitations): the shadows on the wall that prisoners look at uncritically are cast from statues that are carried around by people in front of a fire (note that statues themselves are images/imitations). Outside the cave, there are reflections in a pool (also images), and then there are the forms themselves (not images). The sophist is one who is satisfied with images--probably not the shadows, but more likely the statues. It seems to me that they are in the cave. What suggests this is the discussion toward the end of "Sophist" that sophists are unconscious imitators-- they are unaware of stopping short of something better (the Truth). Philosophers, on the other hand, are the very least aware of when they are short of what's real and are only dabbling in opinion-- this puts them looking at least at the pool outside the cave, and they aspire to see the Forms themselves. This is illustrated repeatedly in Plato's dialogues by Socrates beginning and ending his investigations in perplexity and admitting he does not know. (Obviously the most well-known lines about this are in "The Apology.")
But I would be surprised if Plato was actually trying to make out like there are two different sorts of people-- the sophist and the philosopher. It makes more sense that these are personifications of two different styles of thinking, and that any one person is part philosopher, and part sophist. Each person is at least sometimes doing sophistry, and even a stubbornly anti-thinking type of person will act a philosopher when they're trying to find out if their partner is cheating on them. Sometimes only the hard truth will satisfy us, sometimes we're content with "truthiness." What the
"Sophist" says--as do other dialogues-- is we shouldn't be content with "truthiness," especially if we're not very conscious of the fact that we have hold of truthiness and not Truth. And the best way to do this is to be open to rigorous questioning, and not try to shy away with mental gymnastics. Otherwise we have deceptive beliefs, and we deceive ourselves, and if we spread our beliefs, we deceive others as well. Better to know when we know and to know when we do not know.
