Alvita Nathaniel, DSN Thinking about epistemic questions always reminds me of Socrates’ cave allegory. In Plato’s most famous book, The Republic, Socrates talks to a young follower named Glaucon. I would like to include here a short excerpt of their conversation and discuss how this relates to my thoughts about preceding a classic GT study with a thorough literature review. [Socrates] Imagine human beings living in a underground, cave like dwelling, with an entrance a long way up, which is both open to the light and as wide as the cave itself. They’ve been there since childhood, fixed in the same place, with their necks and legs fettered, able to see only in front of them, because their bonds prevent them from turning their heads around. Light is provided by a fire burning far above and behind them. Also behind them, but on higher ground, there is a path stretching between them and the fire. Imagine that along this path a low wall has been built, like the screen in front of puppeteers above which they show their puppets [Glaucon] I’m imagining it. [Socrates] Then also imagine that there are people along the wall, carrying all kinds of artifacts that project above it—statues of people and other animals, made out of stone, wood, and every material. And, as you’d expect, some of the carriers are talking, and some are silent. [Glaucon] It’s a strange image you’re describing, and strange prisoners. [Socrates] They’re like us. Do you suppose, first of all, that these prisoners see anything of themselves and one another besides the shadows that the fire casts on the wall in front of them? [Glaucon] How could they, if they have to keep their heads motionless throughout life? [Socrates] What about the things being carried along the wall? Isn’t the same true of them? [Glaucon] Of course. [Socrates] And if they could talk to one another, don’t you think they’d suppose that the names they used applied to the things they see passing before them? [Glaucon] They’d have to. [Socrates] And what if their prison also had an echo from the wall facing them? Don’t you think they’d believe that the shadows passing in front of them were talking whenever one of the carriers passing along the wall was doing so? [Glaucon] I certainly do. [Socrates] Then the prisoners would in every way believe that the truth is nothing other than the shadows of those artifacts. [Glaucon] They must surely believe that. [Socrates] Consider, then, what being released…. What do you think he’d say, if we told him that what he’d seen before was inconsequential…. …if we pointed to each of the things passing by, asking what each of them is, and compelled him to answer, don’t you think he’d be at a loss and that he’d believe that the [shadows] he saw earlier were truer than the [objects] he was now being shown? (Plato, trans. 1997) There is more to the story, of course. Light at the opening of the cave represents knowledge. The people chained at the bottom of the cave are situated as far from knowledge as they could possibly be. As they sit there, they begin to interpret meaningless clues and to attach meaning to them. Given enough time, they will surely develop theories and then, if released, go off somewhere to teach and write about them—or so I imagine. The other people in the cave are climbing to the opening, moving toward true knowledge....