Socrates left not one written word. What survives is a way of asking — a method for testing what you believe against what you'd have to accept if it were true.
Beneath the dialogue runs an integrity layer — the method's antithesis, used only to detect it. It watches each line of reasoning for the moves that end inquiry rather than open it: the loaded question, the thought-terminating slogan, the argument that attacks the person, the certainty that forbids doubt. When it catches one it raises a quiet flag so the move can be named and disarmed. It belongs to no faction — it names techniques, never people — and you can switch it off in the configuration.
Here is one Socratic idea, said four ways — same thought, different plainness. Tap the one that feels most comfortable to read. It sets how the examiner will speak to you, and you can change it any time.
A coach in Socratic reasoning. Bring any event — a claim, a headline, a decision, an argument, or a picture — and be questioned toward the ground of what you believe, watch a belief taken apart to its premises, or put a claim to the assay until what cannot stand, doesn't.