The chaotic mixture of loud voices and fragrant spices marks yet another busy day at the agora, the hub of the ancient Athenian empire. Shopkeepers are engaged in a fierce bidding war to get rid of their dried fish, olives, sandals, dirt on local politicians, amphorae, goat milk, lawsuits, givers of evidence, figs, and bread. You want something; they’ve got it. In the midst of the yelling and cursing, a stocky and aging man—barefooted and flat nosed, almost unkempt—felt right at home. Socrates peppered every single being he encountered with annoying questions during his daily strolls in the vicinity of the agora. His motto was “Know what you don’t know.”
On the other side of Athens, sophist teachers specializing in subjects such as mathematics, music, philosophy, or—the gods forbid—a craft were busy teaching virtues to the few wealthy Greeks who could afford it. Sophists, traveling experts and skilled talkers, had one thing in common: whatever they did not know, they pretended to know to impress or persuade their audience. A few sophists even claimed to have the answers to all questions.