And now time for some narcissistic self-indulgence.

I notice that Jon posted his Socratic dialog with God (which is hilarious to read). This comes from an Intro to Philosophy course he and I and a bunch of other SHAFT kids took and completely annoyed everyone in with our amoral materialism. While studying Plato’s Dialogs, one of the papers we wrote was a dialog between Socrates and anyone at all. Jon chose The Lord Thy God Yahweh. Because I’m a steampunk nerdy nerd, I chose Leonardo Da Vinci. My full dialog is below the fold.

During his time in Renaissance Italy, Socrates visits the city of Florence. While wandering around to get a feel for the city, he comes across a crowd heckling and laughing at a man soaked from head to foot. Strapped to his body, a pair of great cloth wings hangs from his back in tatters. The man strides away from the crowd and up a street, shouting curses and pawing at the fastenings of his wings. His curiosity aroused by this very unusual sight, Socrates hurries to catch up to him.

Socrates: Sir! Excuse me, sir! May I have a word?

Leonardo: I have no more time to hear the mocking words of yet another fool Florentine.

Socrates: I am not a Florentine, sir, but an Athenian.

Leonardo: What is that you say? Ah, you are certainly not dressed like a Florentine. Who are you?

Socrates: I am called Socrates, a Greek and Citizen of Athens. May I have your name as well?

Leonardo: Surely you have heard of me. I am Leonardo of the city of Vinci. By the forge of Hephaestus, you say you are Socrates? How is that possible?

Socrates: I am unsure as to the how of my coming to this place. I had been sitting under a tree near the Lyceum, and it may be that I dozed. When next I woke, I found myself in a strange city called Venice. I suspect that it may be that the gods have sent me here for some purpose, perhaps to aid in my search.

Leonardo: A very remarkable story. If indeed you are the Socrates of Antiquity, I would very much enjoy talking with you. You may find you have seen many strange things since your coming to Italy, and I would be pleased to discuss them with you, and hear your thoughts.

Socrates: Indeed, Leonardo, I have heard of you. People tell tales of you in every city I have visited in this strange land. Some have called you wise, and some have called you mad. But I should wish to discover for myself which it is, if either. And that is the reason I have stopped you. I am curious what it is you have done, and what it is that you are wearing.

Leonardo: Ah, already you have shown more interest in my work than this wretched city has. I have invented a pair of wings so that I may fly with the grace of a bird, after the manner of Daedalus. I have flung myself from the bridge, and sadly into the river. There must be some error in my design.

Socrates: You have said many interesting things just now, and I would like to ask you some questions, if I may?

Leonardo: Certainly, although I would prefer to return to my workshop. You are welcome to join me. Have you been to France, Socrates?

Socrates: I’m sorry to say I have not.

Leonardo: The King of France is a great admirer of mine. “The Divine Leonardo” is all I hear when I walk through his streets. And what music do I find in the streets of Florence, eh? The cooing of pigeons and the babbling of fools! Yes, I think I will journey to France.

*They begin walking*

Socrates: Just now, when talking about your wings, you said that you have “invented” them. Forgive me, but I have not heard that word before, and I am unsure as to your meaning. Do you not mean that you have built them?

Leonardo: Indeed I have built them, out of wood and cloth and leather over the space of a month or two. But I have also built them out of ideas, in my mind and in drawings. I have studied birds in order to understand the means by which they fly, and applied the concepts I have discovered to the design of my wings. That is what I mean when I say I have invented them.

Socrates: I think I am beginning to see the distinction. When you say you have invented something, you understand the means by which it performs its function, and how to build it in order to address that function.

Leonardo: Precisely so.

Socrates: So if a carpenter who builds a table understands that the function of the table is to hold up objects placed on it, and the carpenter has correctly built the table to hold objects, he can be said to have invented it, as well as built it?

Leonardo: My dear Socrates, there is more to invention than simply understanding the purpose for which something is made.

Socrates: I apologize, Leonardo, but one of your understanding must easily forget that others are not so quick to grasp the nature of things. What you have given as the meaning of “invention” must not be the whole of it. Please, I ask again what you mean, and do give me the whole of the meaning.

Leonardo: The devices and machines that I have invented are designed according to natural law as I have discovered. For instance, these wings I have built are modeled on those of birds. I have spent much time studying the movement of a bird’s wing in flight, and the curves and lines of its construction. A bird is a mechanical instrument that works according to mathematical laws, an instrument that surely I can recreate! And above all, an inventor must make something new, something the world has never seen.

Socrates: Thank you, you have given me a much clearer explanation of what an inventor does. I would like to examine a few of the different aspects of inventing you have told to me. You have said that you have invented many devices and machines, and I can see several of them drawn here. May I see the carriage with a spiral over it?

Leonardo: I’m sorry, Socrates, but that device has not been built.

Socrates: And yet you say you have invented it?

Leonardo: Of course, these are my drawings and no one else’s.

Socrates: So you are telling me that you have invented this thing, but have not built it. Are you to say that inventing and building are distinct from each other?

Leonardo: Yes indeed, Socrates, I am saying that. Invention differs from building in the same way that sculpting differs from painting. I may invent something that I cannot yet build, such as the devices I have drawn here. On the other hand, someone can build a thing that he did not invent, such as your carpenter’s table.

Socrates: Would it be fair to say that building is an act of the hands working on objects, and inventing is an act of the mind working on ideas?

Leonardo: I believe that is a fair distinction.

Socrates: If I may, however, I would like to adjust your metaphor.

Leonardo: Please do so.

Socrates: You have compared inventing and building to sculpting and painting, in that they are different actions. If I am correct in my understanding, I would like to say that inventing is like planting a field, and building is like harvesting that field. May I describe why I have made this change?

Leonardo: Of course.

Socrates: I do not think that inventing and building are distinct in the way that painting and sculpting are. One need not sculpt before one can paint, and the opposite is also true, would you say?

Leonardo: I would.

Socrates: However, in order to harvest a field, the field needs to have been planted ahead of the harvesting. Is this not true?
Leonardo: Plainly.

Socrates: As you have described it, inventing has this sort of relation to building. It seems to me that an invention sews the field of the mind in order to prepare for the harvest of building the device or machine. As for my carpenter, he may build a table he has not invented, in the way that one may harvest a field that has been planted by others.

Leonardo: You are of course correct.

Socrates: The carpenter has learned how to make tables as an apprentice to a master carpenter above him. And this master was himself an apprentice as well, and so on.

Leonardo: That seems clear.

Socrates: At some point in this chain of masters and apprentices, you would say that tables had been invented by some man, who can be said to have invented the idea even if he did not build one. Let us call him the First Carpenter.

Leonardo: Now that you have said it in such a way, it seems to be clear that there was such a First Carpenter.

Socrates: This First Carpenter has laid the seeds for the building of tables, and he may have harvested them himself, or he may have left the harvesting up to his first apprentice. Either way, he is the inventor of tables. Without such an inventor, the field would have lain fallow, and no man could harvest tables from it.

Leonardo: A correct as well as poetic statement.

Socrates: Also, while it is certain that the First Carpenter is an inventor of tables, and may have been a builder as well, all apprentices of table-making since are merely builders of tables, and not inventors.

Leonardo: Indeed. It is he who first conceives of the idea who can be called an inventor.

Socrates: We seem to have worked out the distinction between inventing and building. I wish to turn now to other aspects of invention you have described. You have given the example of observing birds in flight. You say that a bird works according to mechanical principles, a claim I wish to set aside for now. The purpose behind your observations is, as you say, to discover those principles by which a bird flies. So you may build your wings to mimic these principles?

Leonardo: Yes indeed, by Zeus. An inventor must have a grasp of the methods by which his inventions are to work, for the purpose of an invention—even one remaining unmade—is to someday be built to fulfill its purpose, and I think you would agree that an invention that cannot work cannot be built to fulfill its purpose.

Socrates: If I understand what you mean by inventions, then I do so agree. You are saying that an invention is the idea of an object, built or unbuilt, that is meant to have a specific function, or to serve in some purpose. It is designed based on an observation and understanding of natural laws. I am curious, though, what you mean by an invention being “something the world has never seen before”.

Leonardo: You are coming close to my meaning of invention, Socrates. As for what I mean when I say an invention must be something new, I believe we have shown that he who builds another man’s invention is merely a builder, not an inventor. An invention must always therefore be something new.

Socrates: Ah, now I believe I see your meaning. Although I have one remaining concern that I fear we have not yet addressed.

Leonardo: What is that?

Socrates: You say that an invention is designed for some purpose. The purpose of your wings is to allow a man to fly like a bird. The purpose of the invention in this drawing is to besiege a castle. I believe we need to address whether a device succeeds or fails in its intended purpose in deciding whether or not it is an invention.

Leonardo: A wonderful insight.

Socrates: We have previously decided that invention is distinct from building, as if it were a planted field. Yet you have said that one purpose of all inventions is to be built, and it seems that all other purposes of an invention—whether causing men to fly or castle walls to crumble—are dependent on that invention being built. Would you agree?

Leonardo: I would. An unbuilt machine cannot serve anyone.

Socrates: Therefore, a device needs to be built, and it needs to fulfill its purpose once it is built in order to be called an invention. An unbuilt machine cannot fulfill its purpose, and should not be called an invention. A machine that has been built but does not work should not be called an invention as well.

Leonardo: I see.

Socrates: Since your wings have been built, but did not achieve their purpose in allowing you to fly, they have not yet been invented, and you are not their inventor. As well, many of these drawings have not yet been built, and have not achieved their purposes, so they are not inventions either. As for the First Carpenter, he is the true inventor of the table, as the first table—built either by him or his apprentice—has clearly served its purpose of holding up objects placed upon it. Although only the first built table may rightly be called the invention.

Leonardo: I fear, my friend Socrates, that you are right.