SOCRATES. At this point, both of them were stumped. So I, wishing to help them out, said: "Since we cannot find the answer, let us look at it this way. What kinds of things should the philosopher learn, since he cannot learn everything?" The intellectual replied, "He should learn the most beautiful and fitting disciplines, those from which he will gain the greatest reputation for philosophy. And he will gain the greatest reputation if he appears to be experienced in all the arts, or at least the most respectable ones. Therefore, he should learn what is appropriate for a free man to know, which means understanding the theories of the arts, though not necessarily the practical execution." "I see," I said. "You mean that he should be like the pentathlete in the games. A pentathlete is second-best in each individual event—like running or wrestling—compared to the specialist, but he is better than all the other athletes in the combined events. Is this the sort of thing you mean by philosophy?" "Exactly," he said. "You have grasped my meaning perfectly. The philosopher is someone who understands the theories of the arts but is second to the experts in practical matters." "Let us see if you are right about this," I said. "Do you consider good men to be useful or useless?" "Useful, certainly," he replied. "And if the good are useful, are the bad useless?" "Yes." "And do you consider philosophers to be useful men?" "I consider them the most useful of all." "But let us see if what you say is true. How can they be useful to us if they are second-best in everything? If you were sick, would you call for a philosopher, who is second-best in medicine, or a doctor?" "I would call a doctor," he admitted.