The Republic
second class, replies Socrates, among goods desirable for themselves
and also for their results. ‘Then the world in general are of another
mind, for they say that justice belongs to the troublesome class of
goods which are desirable for their results only. Socrates answers that
this is the doctrine of Thrasymachus which he rejects. Glaucon thinks
that Thrasymachus was too ready to listen to the voice of the charmer,
and proposes to consider the nature of justice and injustice in
themselves and apart from the results and rewards of them which the
world is always dinning in his ears. He will first of all speak of the
nature and origin of justice; secondly, of the manner in which men view
justice as a necessity and not a good; and thirdly, he will prove the
reasonableness of this view.
‘To do injustice is said to be a good; to suffer injustice an evil. As
the evil is discovered by experience to be greater than the good, the
sufferers, who cannot also be doers, make a compact that they will have
neither, and this compact or mean is called justice, but is really the
impossibility of doing injustice. No one would observe such a compact
if he were not obliged. Let us suppose that the just and unjust have
two rings, like that of Gyges in the well-known story, which make them
invisible, and then no difference will appear in them, for every one
will do evil if he can. And he who abstains will be regarded by the
world as a fool for his pains. Men may praise him in public out of fear
for themselves, but they will laugh at him in their hearts (Cp.
Gorgias.)
‘And now let us frame an ideal of the just and unjust. Imagine the
unjust man to be master of his craft, seldom making mistakes and easily
correcting them; having gifts of money, speech, strength—the greatest
villain bearing the highest character: and at his side let us place the
just in his nobleness and simplicity—being, not seeming—without name or
reward—clothed in his justice only—the best of men who is thought to be
the worst, and let him die as he has lived. I might add (but I would
rather put the rest into the mouth of the panegyrists of injustice—they
will tell you) that the just man will be scourged, racked, bound, will
have his eyes put out, and will at last be crucified (literally
impaled)—and all this because he ought to have preferred seeming to
being. How different is the case of the unjust who clings to appearance
as the true reality! His high character makes him a ruler; he can marry
where he likes, trade where he likes, help his friends and hurt his
enemies; having got rich by dishonesty he can worship the gods better,
and will therefore be more loved by them than the just.’
I was thinking what to answer, when Adeimantus joined in the already
unequal fray. He considered that the most important point of all had
been omitted:—‘Men are taught to be just for the sake of rewards;
parents and guardians make reputation the incentive to virtue. And
other advantages are promised by them of a more solid kind, such as
wealthy marriages and high offices. There are the pictures in Homer and
Hesiod of fat sheep and heavy fleeces, rich corn-fields and trees
toppling with fruit, which the gods provide in this life for the just.
And the Orphic poets add a similar picture of another. The heroes of
Musaeus and Eumolpus lie on couches at a festival, with garlands on
their heads, enjoying as the meed of virtue a paradise of immortal
drunkenness. Some go further, and speak of a fair posterity in the
third and fourth generation. But the wicked they bury in a slough and
make them carry water in a sieve: and in this life they attribute to
them the infamy which Glaucon was assuming to be the lot of the just
who are supposed to be unjust.
‘Take another kind of argument which is found both in poetry and
prose:—“Virtue,” as Hesiod says, “is honourable but difficult, vice is
easy and profitable.” You may often see the wicked in great prosperity
and the righteous afflicted by the will of heaven. And mendicant
prophets knock at rich men’s doors, promising to atone for the sins of
themselves or their fathers in an easy fashion with sacrifices and
festive games, or with charms and invocations to get rid of an enemy
good or bad by divine help and at a small charge;—they appeal to books
professing to be written by Musaeus and Orpheus, and carry away the
minds of whole cities, and promise to “get souls out of purgatory;” and
if we refuse to listen to them, no one knows what will happen to us.
‘When a lively-minded ingenuous youth hears all this, what will be his
conclusion? “Will he,” in the language of Pindar, “make justice his
high tower, or fortify himself with crooked deceit?” Justice, he
reflects, without the appearance of justice, is misery and ruin;
injustice has the promise of a glorious life. Appearance is master of
truth and lord of happiness. To appearance then I will turn,—I will put
on the show of virtue and trail behind me the fox of Archilochus. I
hear some one saying that “wickedness is not easily concealed,” to
which I reply that “nothing great is easy.” Union and force and
rhetoric will do much; and if men say that they cannot prevail over the
gods, still how do we know that there are gods? Only from the poets,
who acknowledge that they may be appeased by sacrifices. Then why not
sin and pay for indulgences out of your sin? For if the righteous are
only unpunished, still they have no further reward, while the wicked
may be unpunished and have the pleasure of sinning too. But what of the
world below? Nay, says the argument, there are atoning powers who will
set that matter right, as the poets, who are the sons of the gods, tell
us; and this is confirmed by the authority of the State.
‘How can we resist such arguments in favour of injustice? Add good
manners, and, as the wise tell us, we shall make the best of both
worlds. Who that is not a miserable caitiff will refrain from smiling
at the praises of justice? Even if a man knows the better part he will
not be angry with others; for he knows also that more than human virtue
is needed to save a man, and that he only praises justice who is
incapable of injustice.
‘The origin of the evil is that all men from the beginning, heroes,
poets, instructors of youth, have always asserted “the temporal
dispensation,” the honours and profits of justice. Had we been taught
in early youth the power of justice and injustice inherent in the soul,
and unseen by any human or divine eye, we should not have needed others
to be our guardians, but every one would have been the guardian of
himself. This is what I want you to show, Socrates;—other men use
arguments which rather tend to strengthen the position of Thrasymachus
that “might is right;” but from you I expect better things. And please,
as Glaucon said, to exclude reputation; let the just be thought unjust
and the unjust just, and do you still prove to us the superiority of
justice’...
The thesis, which for the sake of argument has been maintained by
Glaucon, is the converse of that of Thrasymachus—not right is the
interest of the stronger, but right is the necessity of the weaker.
Starting from the same premises he carries the analysis of society a
step further back;—might is still right, but the might is the weakness
of the many combined against the strength of the few.
There have been theories in modern as well as in ancient times which
have a family likeness to the speculations of Glaucon; e.g. that power
is the foundation of right; or that a monarch has a divine right to
govern well or ill; or that virtue is self-love or the love of power;
or that war is the natural state of man; or that private vices are
public benefits. All such theories have a kind of plausibility from
their partial agreement with experience. For human nature oscillates
between good and evil, and the motives of actions and the origin of
institutions may be explained to a certain extent on either hypothesis
according to the character or point of view of a particular thinker.
The obligation of maintaining authority under all circumstances and
sometimes by rather questionable means is felt strongly and has become
a sort of instinct among civilized men. The divine right of kings, or
more generally of governments, is one of the forms under which this
natural feeling is expressed. Nor again is there any evil which has not
some accompaniment of good or pleasure; nor any good which is free from
some alloy of evil; nor any noble or generous thought which may not be
attended by a shadow or the ghost of a shadow of self-interest or of
self-love. We know that all human actions are imperfect; but we do not
therefore attribute them to the worse rather than to the better motive
or principle. Such a philosophy is both foolish and false, like that
opinion of the clever rogue who assumes all other men to be like
himself. And theories of this sort do not represent the real nature of
the State, which is based on a vague sense of right gradually corrected
and enlarged by custom and law (although capable also of perversion),
any more than they describe the origin of society, which is to be
sought in the family and in the social and religious feelings of man.
Nor do they represent the average character of individuals, which
cannot be explained simply on a theory of evil, but has always a
counteracting element of good. And as men become better such theories
appear more and more untruthful to them, because they are more
conscious of their own disinterestedness. A little experience may make
a man a cynic; a great deal will bring him back to a truer and kindlier
view of the mixed nature of himself and his fellow men.
The two brothers ask Socrates to prove to them that the just is happy
when they have taken from him all that in which happiness is ordinarily
supposed to consist. Not that there is (1) any absurdity in the attempt
to frame a notion of justice apart from circumstances. For the ideal
must always be a paradox when compared with the ordinary conditions of
human life. Neither the Stoical ideal nor the Christian ideal is true
as a fact, but they may serve as a basis of education, and may exercise
an ennobling influence. An ideal is none the worse because ‘some one
has made the discovery’ that no such ideal was ever realized. And in a
few exceptional individuals who are raised above the ordinary level of
humanity, the ideal of happiness may be realized in death and misery.
This may be the state which the reason deliberately approves, and which
the utilitarian as well as every other moralist may be bound in certain
cases to prefer.
Nor again, (2) must we forget that Plato, though he agrees generally
with the view implied in the argument of the two brothers, is not
expressing his own final conclusion, but rather seeking to dramatize
one of the aspects of ethical truth. He is developing his idea
gradually in a series of positions or situations. He is exhibiting
Socrates for the first time undergoing the Socratic interrogation.
Lastly, (3) the word ‘happiness’ involves some degree of confusion
because associated in the language of modern philosophy with conscious
pleasure or satisfaction, which was not equally present to his mind.
Glaucon has been drawing a picture of the misery of the just and the
happiness of the unjust, to which the misery of the tyrant in Book IX
is the answer and parallel. And still the unjust must appear just; that
is ‘the homage which vice pays to virtue.’ But now Adeimantus, taking
up the hint which had been already given by Glaucon, proceeds to show
that in the opinion of mankind justice is regarded only for the sake of
rewards and reputation, and points out the advantage which is given to
such arguments as those of Thrasymachus and Glaucon by the conventional