Book 7

SOCRATES’ NARRATION CONTINUES:

SOCRATES: Next, then, compare the effect of education and that of the (514a) lack of it on our nature to an experience like this. Imagine human beings living in an underground, cavelike dwelling, with an entrance a long way up that is open to the light and as wide as the cave itself. They have been there since childhood, with their necks and legs fettered, so that they are ﬁxed in the same place, able to see only in front of them, because their fet- (a) (b) ter prevents them from turning their heads around. Light is provided by ﬁre burning far above and behind them. Between the prisoners and the ﬁre, there is an elevated road stretching. Imagine that along this road a low wall has been built—like the screen in front of people that is provided by pup- peteers, and above which they show their puppets.

GLAUCON: I am imagining it.

SOCRATES: Also imagine, then, that there are people alongside the wall (c) carrying multifarious artifacts that project above it—statues of people and (515a) other animals, made of stone, wood, and every material. And as you would expect, some of the carriers are talking and some are silent.

GLAUCON: It is a strange image you are describing, and strange prisoners.

SOCRATES: They are like us. I mean, in the ﬁrst place, do you think these prisoners have ever seen anything of themselves and one another besides the shadows that the ﬁre casts on the wall of the cave in front of them?

GLAUCON: How could they, if they have to keep their heads motionless (b) throughout life?

SOCRATES: What about the things carried along the wall? Isn’t the same true where they are concerned?

GLAUCON: Of course.

SOCRATES: And if they could engage in discussion with one another, don’t you think they would assume that the words they used applied to the things they see passing in front of them?

GLAUCON: They would have to.

SOCRATES: What if their prison also had an echo from the wall facing them? When one of the carriers passing along the wall spoke, do you think

they would believe that anything other than the shadow passing in front of them was speaking?

GLAUCON: I do not, by Zeus.

SOCRATES: All in all, then, what the prisoners would take for true reality (c) is nothing other than the shadows of those artifacts.

GLAUCON: That’s entirely inevitable.

SOCRATES: Consider, then, what being released from their bonds and cured of their foolishness would naturally be like, if something like this should happen to them. When one was freed and suddenly compelled to stand up, turn his neck around, walk, and look up toward the light, he would be pained by doing all these things and be unable to see the things whose shadows he had seen before, because of the ﬂashing lights.What do (d) you think he would say if we told him that what he had seen before was silly nonsense, but that now—because he is a bit closer to what is, and is turned toward things that are more—he sees more correctly? And in partic- ular, if we pointed to each of the things passing by and compelled him to answer what each of them is, don’t you think he would be puzzled and believe that the things he saw earlier were more truly real than the ones he was being shown?

GLAUCON: Much more so. (e) SOCRATES: And if he were compelled to look at the light itself, wouldn’t his eyes be pained and wouldn’t he turn around and ﬂee toward the things he is able to see, and believe that they are really clearer than the ones he is being shown?

GLAUCON: He would.

SOCRATES: And if someone dragged him by force away from there, along the rough, steep, upward path, and did not let him go until he had dragged him into the light of the sun, wouldn’t he be pained and angry at being (516a) treated that way? And when he came into the light, wouldn’t he have his eyes ﬁlled with sunlight and be unable to see a single one of the things now said to be truly real?

GLAUCON: No, he would not be able to—at least not right away.

SOCRATES: He would need time to get adjusted, I suppose, if he is going to see the things in the world above. At ﬁrst, he would see shadows most easily, then images of men and other things in water, then the things them- selves. From these, it would be easier for him to go on to look at the things in the sky and the sky itself at night, gazing at the light of the stars and the (b) moon, than during the day, gazing at the sun and the light of the sun.

GLAUCON: Of course.

SOCRATES: Finally, I suppose, he would be able to see the sun—not reﬂec- tions of it in water or some alien place, but the sun just by itself in its own place—and be able to look at it and see what it is like.

GLAUCON: He would have to.

SOCRATES: After that, he would already be able to conclude about it that it provides the seasons and the years, governs everything in the visible (c) world, and is in some way the cause of all the things that he and his fellows used to see.

GLAUCON: That would clearly be his next step.

SOCRATES: What about when he reminds himself of his ﬁrst dwelling place, what passed for wisdom there, and his fellow prisoners? Don’t you think he would count himself happy for the change and pity the others?

GLAUCON: Certainly.

SOCRATES: And if there had been honors, praises, or prizes among them for the one who was sharpest at identifying the shadows as they passed by; and was best able to remember which usually came earlier, which later, and (d) which simultaneously; and who was thus best able to prophesize the future, do you think that our man would desire these rewards or envy those among the prisoners who were honored and held power? Or do you think he (a) would feel with Homer that he would much prefer to “work the earth as serf for another man, a man without possessions of his own,”1 and go

through any sufferings, rather than share their beliefs and live as they do? (e) GLAUCON: Yes, I think he would rather suffer anything than live like that.

SOCRATES: Consider this too, then. If this man went back down into the cave and sat down in his same seat, wouldn’t his eyes be ﬁlled with dark- ness, coming suddenly out of the sun like that?

GLAUCON: Certainly.

SOCRATES: Now, if he had to compete once again with the perpetual pris- oners in recognizing the shadows, while his sight was still dim and before (517a) his eyes had recovered, and if the time required for readjustment was not short, wouldn’t he provoke ridicule? Wouldn’t it be said of him that he had returned from his upward journey with his eyes ruined, and that it is not worthwhile even to try to travel upward? And as for anyone who tried to free the prisoners and lead them upward, if they could somehow get their hands on him, wouldn’t they kill him?

GLAUCON: They certainly would.

[1]: Odyssey 11.489–90.The shade of Achilles speaks these words to Odysseus, who is visiting Hades. Plato is likening the cave dwellers to the dead.

(a) SOCRATES: This image, my dear Glaucon, must be ﬁtted together as (b) whole with what we said before.The realm revealed through sight should be likened to the prison dwelling, and the light of the ﬁre inside it to the sun’s power. And if you think of the upward journey and the seeing of things above as the upward journey of the soul to the intelligible realm, you won’t mistake my intention—since it is what you wanted to hear about.

Only the god knows whether it is true. But this is how these phenomena seem to me: in the knowable realm, the last thing to be seen is the form of the good, and it is seen only with toil and trouble. Once one has seen it, (c) however, one must infer that it is the cause of all that is correct and beauti- ful in anything, that in the visible realm it produces both light and its source, and that in the intelligible realm it controls and provides truth and understanding; and that anyone who is to act sensibly in private or public must see it.

GLAUCON: I agree, so far as I am able.

SOCRATES: Come on, then, and join me in this further thought: you should not be surprised that the ones who get to this point are not willing to occupy themselves with human affairs, but that, on the contrary, their souls are always eager to spend their time above. I mean, that is surely what we (d) would expect, if indeed the image I described before is also accurate here.

GLAUCON: It is what we would expect.

SOCRATES: What about when someone, coming from looking at divine things, looks to the evils of human life? Do you think it is surprising that he behaves awkwardly and appears completely ridiculous, if—while his sight is still dim and he has not yet become accustomed to the darkness around him—he is compelled, either in the courts or elsewhere, to compete about the shadows of justice, or about the statues of which they are the shadows; and to dispute the way these things are understood by people who have (e) never seen justice itself?

GLAUCON: It is not surprising at all.

SOCRATES: On the contrary, anyone with any sense, at any rate, would (518a) remember that eyes may be confused in two ways and from two causes: when they change from the light into the darkness, or from the darkness into the light. If he kept in mind that the same applies to the soul, then when he saw a soul disturbed and unable to see something, he would not laugh absurdly. Instead, he would see whether it had come from a brighter life and was dimmed through not having yet become accustomed to the dark, or from greater ignorance into greater light and was dazzled by the (b) increased brilliance. Then he would consider the ﬁrst soul happy in its experience and life, and pity the latter. But even if he wanted to ridicule it, (a) at least his ridiculing it would make him less ridiculous than ridiculing soul that had come from the light above.

GLAUCON: That’s an entirely reasonable claim.

SOCRATES: Then here is how we must think about these matters, if that is true: education is not what some people boastfully declare it to be. They presumably say they can put knowledge into souls that lack it, as if they (c) could put sight into blind eyes.

GLAUCON: Yes, they do say that.

SOCRATES: But here is what our present account shows about this power to learn that is present in everyone’s soul, and the instrument with which each of us learns: just as an eye cannot be turned around from darkness to light except by turning the whole body, so this instrument must be turned around from what-comes-to-be together with the whole soul, until it is able to bear to look at what is and at the brightest thing that is—the one we call (d) the good. Isn’t that right?

GLAUCON: Yes.

SOCRATES: Of this very thing, then, there would be a craft—namely, of this turning around—concerned with how this instrument can be most easily and effectively turned around, not of putting sight into it. On the contrary, it takes for granted that sight is there, though not turned in the right way or looking where it should look, and contrives to redirect it appropriately.

GLAUCON: That’s probably right.

SOCRATES: Then the other so-called virtues of the soul do seem to be closely akin to those of the body: they really are not present in it initially, (e) but are added later by habit and practice. The virtue of wisdom, on the other hand, belongs above all, so it seems, to something more divine, which never loses its power, but is either useful and beneﬁcial or useless and (519a) harmful, depending on the way it is turned. Or haven’t you ever noticed in people who are said to be bad, but clever, how keen the vision of their little soul is and how sharply it distinguishes the things it is turned toward? This shows that its sight is not inferior, but is forced to serve vice, so that the sharper it sees, the more evils it accomplishes.

GLAUCON: I certainly have.

SOCRATES: However, if this element of this sort of nature had been ham- mered at right from childhood, and struck free of the leaden weights, as it were, of kinship with becoming, which have been fastened to it by eating (b) and other such pleasures and indulgences, which pull its soul’s vision down- ward2—if, I say, it got rid of these and turned toward truly real things, then the same element of the same people would see them most sharply, just as it now does the things it is now turned toward.

[2]: See 611b9–612a6.

GLAUCON: That’s probably right.

SOCRATES: Isn’t it also probable, then—indeed, doesn’t it follow necessar- ily from what was said before—that uneducated people who have no expe- rience of true reality will never adequately govern a city, and neither will (c) people who have been allowed to spend their whole lives in education.The former fail because they do not have a single goal in life at which all their actions, public and private, inevitably aim; the latter because they would refuse to act, thinking they had emigrated, while still alive, to the Isles of the Blessed.

GLAUCON: True.

SOCRATES: It is our task as founders, then, to compel the best natures to learn what was said before3 to be the most important thing: namely, to see the good; to ascend that ascent. And when they have ascended and looked (d) sufﬁciently, we must not allow them to do what they are allowed to do now.

GLAUCON: What’s that, then?

SOCRATES: To stay there and refuse to go down again to the prisoners in the cave and share their labors and honors, whether the inferior ones or the more excellent ones. (a) GLAUCON: You mean we are to treat them unjustly, making them live worse life when they could live a better one?

SOCRATES: You have forgotten again, my friend, that the law is not con- (e) cerned with making any one class in the city do outstandingly well, but is contriving to produce this condition in the city as a whole, harmonizing the citizens together through persuasion or compulsion, and making them share with each other the beneﬁt they can confer on the community.4 It (520a) produces such men in the city, not in order to allow them to turn in what- ever direction each one wants, but to make use of them to bind the city together.

GLAUCON: That’s true.Yes, I had forgotten.

SOCRATES: Observe, then, Glaucon, that we won’t be unjustly treating those who have become philosophers in our city, but that what we will say to them, when we compel them to take care of the others and guard them, will be just.We will say:“When people like you come to be in other cities, (b) they are justiﬁed in not sharing in the others’ labors. After all, they have grown there spontaneously, against the will of the constitution in each of them. And when something grows of its own accord and owes no debt for [3]: 505a–b. [4]: 420b–421c, 462a–466c.

its upbringing, it has justice on its side when it is not keen to pay anyone for its upbringing. But both for your own sakes and for that of the rest of the city, we have bred you to be leaders and kings in the hive, so to speak.

You are better and more completely educated than the others, and better able to share in both types of life.5 So each of you in turn must go down to (c) live in the common dwelling place of the other citizens and grow accus- tomed to seeing in the dark. For when you are used to it, you will see inﬁ- nitely better than the people there and know precisely what each image is, and also what it is an image of, because you have seen the truth about ﬁne, just, and good things. So the city will be awake, governed by us and by you; not dreaming like the majority of cities nowadays, governed by men who ﬁght against one another over shadows and form factions in order to rule— as if that were a great good.6 No, the truth of the matter is surely this: a city (d) in which those who are going to rule are least eager to rule is necessarily best and freest from faction, whereas a city with the opposite kind of rulers is governed in the opposite way.” GLAUCON: Yes, indeed.

SOCRATES: Then do you think the people we have nurtured will disobey us when they hear these things, and be unwilling to share the labors of the city, each in turn, and wish instead to live the greater part of their time with one another in the pure realm?

GLAUCON: No, they couldn’t possibly. After all, we will be giving just (e) orders to just people. However, each of them will certainly go to rule as to something necessary, which is exactly the opposite of what is done by those who now rule in each city.

SOCRATES: That’s right, comrade. If you can ﬁnd a way of life that is bet- (521a) ter than ruling for those who are going to rule, your well-governed city will become a possibility.You see, in it alone the truly rich will rule—those (a) who are rich not in gold, but in the wealth the happy must have: namely, good and rational life. But if beggars—people hungry for private goods of their own—go into public life, thinking that the good is there for the seiz- ing, then such a city is impossible. For when ruling is something fought over, such civil and domestic war destroys these men and the rest of the city as well.

GLAUCON: That’s absolutely true.

SOCRATES: Do you know of any other sort of life that looks down on (b) political ofﬁces besides that of true philosophy?

GLAUCON: No, by Zeus, I do not.

[5]: I.e., the practical life of ruling and the theoretical life of doing philosophy.

[6]: See 476c–d.

SOCRATES: But surely it is those who are not lovers of ruling who must go do it. Otherwise, the rivaling lovers will ﬁght over it.

GLAUCON: Of course.

SOCRATES: Who else, then, will you compel to go be guardians of the city if not those who know best what results in good government, and have dif- ferent honors and a better life than the political?

GLAUCON: No one else. (c) SOCRATES: Do you want us to consider now how such people will come to exist, and how we will lead them up to the light, like those who are said to have gone up from Hades to the gods?

GLAUCON: Yes, of course that’s what I want.

SOCRATES: It seems, then, that this is not a matter of ﬂipping a potsherd,7

but of turning a soul from a day that is a kind of night in comparison to the true day—that ascent to what is, which we say is true philosophy.

GLAUCON: Yes, indeed.

SOCRATES: Then mustn’t we try to discover what subjects have the power (d) to bring this about?

GLAUCON: Of course.

SOCRATES: So what subject is it, Glaucon, that draws the soul from what is coming to be to what is? It occurs to me as I am speaking that we said, didn’t we, that these people must be athletes of war when they are young?8

GLAUCON: Yes, we did say that.

SOCRATES: Then the subject we are looking for must also have this char- acteristic in addition to the former one.

GLAUCON: Which?

SOCRATES: It must not be useless to warlike men.

GLAUCON: If possible, it must not.

SOCRATES: Now, earlier they were educated by us in musical and physical (e) training.

GLAUCON: They were.

SOCRATES: And surely physical training is concerned with what-comes- to-be and dies, since it oversees the growth and decay of the body.

[7]: A proverbial expression, referring to a children’s game.The players were divided into two groups. A shell or potsherd—white on one side, black on the other—was thrown into space between them to the cry of “night or day?” (Note the reference to night and day in what follows.) According as the white or black fell uppermost, one group ran away pursued by the other. [8]: 404a, 412b–417b.

GLAUCON: Obviously.

SOCRATES: So it could not be the subject we are looking for. (522a) GLAUCON: No, it could not.

SOCRATES: Is it, then, the musical training we described before?

GLAUCON: But it is just the counterpart of physical training, if you remember. It educated the guardians through habits, conveying by har- mony a certain harmoniousness of temper, not knowledge; and by rhythm (a) certain rhythmical quality. Its stories, whether ﬁctional or nearer the truth, cultivated other habits akin to these. But as for a subject that leads to the destination you have in mind, of the sort you are looking for now, there (b) was nothing of that in it.

SOCRATES: Your reminder is exactly to the point. It really does not have anything of that sort.You’re a marvelous fellow, Glaucon, but what is there that does? The crafts all seemed to be somehow menial.9

GLAUCON: Of course. And yet, what subject is left that is separate from musical and physical training, and from the crafts?

SOCRATES: Well, if we have nothing left beyond these, let’s consider one of those that touches all of them.

GLAUCON: Which?

SOCRATES: Why, for example, that common thing, the one that every (c) type of craft, thought, and knowledge uses, and that is among the ﬁrst things everyone has to learn.

GLAUCON: Which one is that?

SOCRATES: That inconsequential matter of distinguishing the numbers one, two, and three. In short, I mean number and calculation. Or isn’t it true that every type of craft and knowledge must share in them?

GLAUCON: Indeed it is.

SOCRATES: Then warfare must too.

GLAUCON: It must.

SOCRATES: In tragedies, at any rate, Palamedes is always showing up (d) Agamemnon as a totally ridiculous general. Haven’t you noticed? He says that by inventing numbers he established how many troops there were in the army at Ilium and counted their ships and everything else.The implica- tion is that they had not been counted before, and that Agamemnon appar- ently did not even know how many feet he had, since he did not know how to count.What kind of general do you think that made him? [9]: 495c–e.

GLAUCON: A very strange one, I’d say, if there is any truth in that. (e) SOCRATES: Won’t we posit this subject, then, as one a warrior has to learn so he can count and calculate?

GLAUCON: It is more essential than anything else—if, that is, he is going to know anything at all about marshaling his troops—or if he is even going to be human, for that matter.

SOCRATES: Then do you notice the same thing about this subject as I do?

GLAUCON: What?

SOCRATES: That in all likelihood it is one of the subjects we were looking (523a) for that naturally stimulate the understanding. But no one uses it correctly, as something that really is ﬁtted in every way to draw us toward being.

GLAUCON: How do you mean?

SOCRATES: I will try to make what I believe clear, at any rate. I will distin- guish for myself the things that lead in the direction we mentioned from those that do not.Then you must look at them along with me, and either agree or disagree, so that we may see more clearly whether the distinction is as I imagine.

GLAUCON: Show me the things you mean.

SOCRATES: All right, I will show you, if you can see that some sense- (b) perceptions do not summon the understanding to look into them, because the judgment of sense-perception is itself adequate; whereas others encour- age it in every way to look into them, because sense-perception does not produce a sound result.

GLAUCON: You are obviously referring to things appearing in the distance and illusionist paintings.

SOCRATES: No, you are not quite getting what I mean.

GLAUCON: Then what do you mean?

SOCRATES: The ones that do not summon the understanding are all those that do not at the same time result in an opposite sense-perception. But the (c) ones that do I call summoners.That is when sense-perception does not make one thing any more clear than its opposite, regardless of whether what strikes the senses is close by or far away.What I mean will be clearer if you look at it this way: these, we say, are three ﬁngers—the smallest, the second, and the middle ﬁnger.

GLAUCON: Of course.

SOCRATES: Assume that I am talking about them as being seen from close by. Now consider this about them with me.

GLAUCON: What?

SOCRATES: It is obvious, surely, that each of them is equally a ﬁnger, and it (d) makes no difference whether it is seen to be in the middle or at either end; whether it is dark or pale, thick or thin, or anything else of that sort.You see, in all these cases, the soul of most people is not compelled to ask the understanding what a ﬁnger is, since sight does not at any point suggest to it that a ﬁnger is at the same time the opposite of a ﬁnger.

GLAUCON: No, it does not.

SOCRATES: It is likely, then, that a perception of that sort would not sum- (e) mon or awaken the understanding.

GLAUCON: It is likely.

SOCRATES: Now, what about their bigness and smallness? Does sight per- ceive them adequately? Does it make no difference to it whether one of them is in the middle or at the end? And is it the same with the sense of touch, as regards thickness and thinness, hardness and softness? What about the other senses, then—do they make such things sufﬁciently clear? Or doesn’t each of them work as follows: in the ﬁrst place, the sense that deals (524a) with hardness must also deal with softness; and it reports to the soul that it perceives the same thing to be both hard and soft?

GLAUCON: That’s right.

SOCRATES: In cases of this sort then, isn’t the soul inevitably puzzled as to what this sense-perception means by hardness, if it says that the same thing is also soft; and in the case of the sense-perception of lightness and heavi- ness, what it means lightness and heaviness are, if what is heavy is light or what is light heavy? (b) GLAUCON: Yes, indeed, those are strange messages for the soul to receive and do need to be examined.

SOCRATES: It is likely, then, that it is in cases of this sort that the soul, summoning calculation and understanding, ﬁrst tries to determine whether each of the things reported to it is one or two.

GLAUCON: Of course.

SOCRATES: If there are obviously two, won’t each of them be obviously one and distinct?

GLAUCON: Yes.

SOCRATES: If each of them is one, then, and both together are two, the soul will understand that the two are separate. I mean, it would not under- (c) stand inseparable things as two, but as one.

GLAUCON: That’s right.

SOCRATES: But sight, we say, saw bigness and smallness, not as separate, but as mixed up together. Right?

GLAUCON: Yes.

SOCRATES: And to get clear about this, understanding was compelled to see bigness and smallness, too, not mixed up together, but distinguished— the opposite way from sight.

GLAUCON: True.

SOCRATES: Isn’t it in cases like this that it ﬁrst occurs to us to ask what bigness is, and smallness, too?

GLAUCON: Absolutely.

SOCRATES: Which is why we called one section the intelligible and the other the visible. (d) GLAUCON: Right.

SOCRATES: That, then, is what I was trying to express before when I said that some things summon thought, while others do not. I deﬁne summon- ers as those that strike the relevant sense at the same time as do their oppo- sites.Those that do not do this, I said, do not wake up the understanding.

GLAUCON: I understand now, and I think you are right.

SOCRATES: Well then, to which of them does number, including the number one, belong?

GLAUCON: I do not know.

SOCRATES: Use what has already been said as an analogy. If the number one is adequately seen just by itself, or grasped by any of the other senses, (e) then just as we were saying in the case of ﬁngers, it would not draw the soul toward being. But if something opposite to it is always seen at the same time, so that it no more appears to be one than the opposite of one, then there would be a need at that point for someone to decide the matter. And he would compel the soul within him to be puzzled, to inquire, to stir up the understanding within itself, and to ask what the number one itself is.

So, learning about the number one will be among the subjects that lead the (525a) soul and turn it around to look at what is.

GLAUCON: But surely the visual perception of it has just that feature, since we do see the same thing as one and as an unlimited number at the same time.

SOCRATES: Then if this is true of the number one, won’t it also be true of all numbers?

GLAUCON: Of course.

SOCRATES: But now, calculation and arithmetic are wholly concerned with numbers.

GLAUCON: Right.

(b) SOCRATES: Then they obviously lead toward truth.

GLAUCON: To an unnatural degree.

SOCRATES: Then they would belong, it seems, among the subjects we are seeking. I mean, a soldier must learn them in order to marshal his troops; and a philosopher, because it is necessary to be rising up out of becoming so as to grasp being, or he will never become able to calculate.

GLAUCON: That’s right.

SOCRATES: And our guardian is, in fact, both a warrior and a philosopher.

GLAUCON: Of course.

SOCRATES: Then it would be appropriate, Glaucon, to prescribe this sub- ject in our legislation and to persuade those who are going to take part in (c) what is most important in the city to go in for calculation and take it up, not as laymen do, but staying with it until they reach the point at which they see the nature of the numbers by means of understanding itself; not like tradesmen and retailers, caring about it for the sake of buying and sell- ing, but for the sake of war and for ease in turning the soul itself around from becoming to truth and being.

GLAUCON: Very well put.

SOCRATES: Moreover, it occurs to me now that the subject of calculation has been mentioned, how reﬁned it is and in how many ways it is useful for (d) our purposes, provided you practice it for the sake of knowledge rather than trade.

GLAUCON: Which ways?

SOCRATES: Why, in the very one we were talking about just now. It gives the soul a strong lead upward and compels it to discuss the numbers them- selves, never permitting anyone to propose for discussion numbers attached to visible or tangible bodies. I mean, you surely know what people who are clever in these matters are like. If, in the course of the argument, someone (e) tries to divide the number one itself, they laugh and won’t permit it. If you divide it, they multiply it, taking care that the number one never appears to be, not one, but many parts.

GLAUCON: That’s very true.

SOCRATES: Then what do you think would happen, Glaucon, if someone (526a) were to ask them:“What kind of numbers are you amazing fellows discuss- ing, where the number one is as you assume it to be, wholly equal in each and every case, without the least difference, and having no internal parts?” What do you think they would answer?

GLAUCON: I think they would answer that they are talking about those that are accessible only to thought and can be grasped in no other way.

SOCRATES: Do you see then, my friend, that this subject really does seem (b) to be necessary to us, since it apparently compels the soul to use under- standing itself on the truth itself?

GLAUCON: It does so very strongly, in fact.

SOCRATES: Now, have you ever noticed that those who are naturally good at calculation are also naturally quick in all subjects, so to speak, and that those who are slow, if they are educated and exercised in it, even if they are beneﬁted in no other way, nonetheless improve and become generally sharper than they were?

GLAUCON: That’s right.

SOCRATES: Moreover, I do not think you will easily ﬁnd many subjects (c) that are harder to learn or practice than it.

GLAUCON: No indeed.

SOCRATES: For all these reasons, then, this subject is not to be neglected.

On the contrary, the very best natures must be educated in it.

GLAUCON: I agree.

SOCRATES: Well, then, let’s require that one. Second, let’s consider whether the subject that follows after it is also appropriate for our purposes.

GLAUCON: Which one? Or do you mean geometry?

SOCRATES: That’s it exactly. (d) GLAUCON: Insofar as it pertains to war, it is clearly appropriate.You see, when it comes to setting up camp, occupying a region, gathering and ordering troops, and all the other maneuvers armies make whether in battle itself or on the march, it makes all the difference whether someone is skilled in geometry or not.

SOCRATES: But still, for things like that, even a little bit of geometry—and of calculation—would sufﬁce. What we need to consider is whether the greater and more advanced part of it tends to make it easier to see the form (e) of the good. And that tendency, we say, is to be found in anything that com- pels the soul to turn itself around toward the region in which lies the happi- est of the things that are; the one the soul must do everything possible to see.

GLAUCON: You are right.

SOCRATES: Therefore, if geometry compels one to look at being, it is appropriate; but if at becoming, it is inappropriate.

GLAUCON: Yes, that’s what we are saying. (527a) SOCRATES: Now, no one with even a little experience of geometry will dispute with us that this science is itself entirely the opposite of what is said about it in the accounts of its practitioners.

GLAUCON: How so?

SOCRATES: Well, they say completely ridiculous things about it because they are so hard up. I mean, they talk as if they were practical people who make all their arguments for the sake of action. They talk of squaring, applying, adding, and the like; whereas, in fact, the entire subject is prac- (b) ticed for the sake of acquiring knowledge.

GLAUCON: Absolutely.

SOCRATES: Mustn’t we also agree on a further point?

GLAUCON: What?

SOCRATES: That it is knowledge of what always is, not of something that comes to be and passes away.

GLAUCON: That’s easy to agree to, since geometry is knowledge of what always is.

SOCRATES: In that case, my noble fellow, it can draw the soul toward truth and produce philosophical thought by directing upward what we now wrongly direct downward.

GLAUCON: More than anything else. (c) SOCRATES: More than anything else, then, we must require the inhabit- ants of your beautiful city not to neglect geometry in any way, since even its byproducts are not insigniﬁcant.

GLAUCON: What are they?

SOCRATES: The ones you mentioned that are concerned with war. And in addition, when it comes to being better able to pick up any subject, we surely know there is a world of difference between someone with a grasp of geometry and someone without one.

GLAUCON: Yes, by Zeus, a world of difference.

SOCRATES: Shall we prescribe it, then, as a second subject for the young?

GLAUCON: Let’s.

SOCRATES: What about astronomy? Shall we make it the third? What do (d) you think?

GLAUCON: That’s ﬁne with me, at least. I mean, a better awareness of the (a) seasons, months, and years is no less appropriate for a general than for farmer or navigator.

SOCRATES: You are funny! You are like someone who is afraid that the masses will think he is prescribing useless subjects. It is no inconsequential task—indeed it is a very difﬁcult one—to become persuaded that in every- one’s soul there is an instrument that is puriﬁed and rekindled by such sub- (e) jects when it has been blinded and destroyed by other pursuits—an

instrument that it is more important to preserve than 10,000 eyes, since only with it can the truth be seen.Those who share your belief that this is so will think you are speaking incredibly well, while those who are com- pletely unaware of it will probably think you are talking nonsense, since they can see no other beneﬁt worth mentioning in these subjects. So, decide right now which group you are engaging in discussion. Or is it nei- (528a) ther of them, and are you making your arguments mostly for your own sake—though you do not begrudge anyone else whatever proﬁt he can get from them?

GLAUCON: That’s what I prefer—to speak, question, and answer mostly for my own sake.

SOCRATES: Let’s backtrack a bit.You see, we were wrong just now about the subject that comes after geometry.

GLAUCON: How so?

SOCRATES: After a plain surface, we went immediately to a solid that was (b) revolving, without taking one just by itself. But the right way is to take up the third dimension after the second. And it, I suppose, consists of cubes and of whatever shares in depth.

GLAUCON: Yes, you are right. But Socrates, that subject has not even been investigated yet.

SOCRATES: There are two reasons for that. Because no city values it, it is (a) not vigorously investigated, due to its difﬁculty. And investigators need (a) director if they are to discover anything. Now, in the ﬁrst place, such director is difﬁcult to ﬁnd. Second, even if he could be found, as things (c) stand now, those who investigate it are too arrogant to obey him. But if an entire city served as his co-director and took the lead in valuing this sub- ject, then they would obey him, and consistent and vigorous investigation would reveal the facts about it. For even now, when it is not valued by the masses and is hampered by investigators who lack any account of its useful- ness—all the same, in spite of all these handicaps, the force of its appeal has caused it to be developed. So it would not be at all surprising if the facts about it were revealed in any case. (d) GLAUCON: Yes, indeed, it is an outstandingly appealing subject. But explain more clearly to me what you were saying just now.You took geom- etry, presumably, as dealing with plane surface.

SOCRATES: Yes.

GLAUCON: Then at ﬁrst you put astronomy after it, but later you went back on that.

SOCRATES: Yes, the more I hurried to get through them all, the slower I went! You see, the subject dealing with the dimension of depth was next.

But because of the ridiculous state the investigation of it is in, I passed it by and spoke of astronomy—which deals with the motion of things having (e) depth—after geometry.

GLAUCON: That’s right.

SOCRATES: Let’s then prescribe astronomy as the fourth subject, on the assumption that solid geometry, which we are now omitting, will be avail- able if a city takes it up.

GLAUCON: That seems reasonable. And since you reproached me just now, Socrates, for praising astronomy in a vulgar manner, I will now praise it (529a) your way.You see, I think it is clear to everyone that it compels the soul to look upward and leads it from things here to things there.

SOCRATES: It is clear to everyone except me, then, since that is not how I think of it.

GLAUCON: Then how do you think of it?

SOCRATES: As it is handled today by those who teach philosophy, it makes the soul look very much downward.

GLAUCON: How do you mean?

SOCRATES: In my opinion, your conception of “higher studies” is a good deal too generous! I mean, if someone were looking at something by lean- (b) ing his head back and studying ornaments on a ceiling, it seems as though you would say that he is looking at them with his understanding, not with his eyes! Maybe you are right and I am foolish.You see, I just cannot con- ceive of any subject making the soul look upward except the one that is concerned with what is—and that is invisible. If anyone tries to learn some- thing about perceptible things, whether by gaping upward or squinting downward, I would say that he never really learns—since there is no knowl- edge to be had of such things—and that his soul is not looking up but (c) down, whether he does his learning lying on his back on land or on sea!

GLAUCON: A fair judgment! You are right to reproach me. But what did you mean, then, when you said that astronomy must be learned in a differ- ent way than people learn it at present, if it is going to be useful with regard to what we are talking about?

SOCRATES: It is like this: these ornaments in the heavens, since they are ornaments in something visible, may certainly be regarded as having the most beautiful and most exact motions that such things can have. But these (d) fall far short of the true ones—those motions in which the things that are really fast or really slow, as measured in true numbers and as forming all the true geometrical ﬁgures, are moved relative to one another, and that move the things that are in them. And these, of course, must be grasped by reason and thought, not by sight. Don’t you agree?

GLAUCON: Of course.

SOCRATES: Therefore, we should use the ornaments in the heavens as mod- els to help us study these other things.10 It is just as if someone chanced to (e) ﬁnd diagrams by Daedalus or some other craftsman or painter, which were very carefully drawn and worked out. I mean, anyone experienced in geom- etry who saw such things would consider them to be very beautifully exe- cuted, I suppose. But he would think it ridiculous to examine them seriously (530a) in order to ﬁnd there the truth about equals, doubles, or any other ratio.

GLAUCON: How could it be anything but ridiculous?

SOCRATES: Don’t you think, then, that a real astronomer will feel the same way when he looks at the motions of the stars? He will believe that the craftsman of the heavens arranged them and all that is in them in the most beautiful way possible for such things. But as for the ratio of night to day, of these to a month, of a month to a year, or of the motions of the stars (b) to them or to each other, don’t you think he will consider it strange to believe that they are always the same and never deviate in the least, since they are connected to body and are visible things, or to seek by every means possible to grasp the truth about them?

GLAUCON: That’s what I think—anyway, now that I hear it from you!

SOCRATES: Just as in geometry, then, it is by making use of problems that we will pursue astronomy too. We will leave the things in the heavens alone, if we are really going to participate in astronomy and make the natu- (c) rally wise element in the soul useful instead of useless.

GLAUCON: The task you are prescribing is a lot bigger than anything now attempted in astronomy.

SOCRATES: And I suppose we will prescribe other subjects in the same way, if we are to be of any beneﬁt as lawgivers. But can you in fact suggest any other appropriate subjects?

GLAUCON: Not at the moment, anyway.

SOCRATES: But motion, it seems to me, presents itself, not just in one form, but in several. A wise person could probably list them all, but there (d) are two that are evident even to us.

GLAUCON: What are they?

SOCRATES: Besides the one we have discussed, there is also its counterpart.

GLAUCON: What’s that?

SOCRATES: It is probable that as the eyes fasten on astronomical motions, so the ears fasten on harmonic ones, and that these two sciences are some- how akin, as the Pythagoreans say. And we agree, Glaucon. Don’t we?

[10]: See 510d–511a.

GLAUCON: We do. (e) SOCRATES: Then, since the task is so huge, shouldn’t we ask them their opinion and whether they have anything to add, all the while guarding our own requirement?

GLAUCON: What’s that?

SOCRATES: That those we will be rearing should never attempt to learn anything incomplete,11 anything that does not always come out at the place

all things should reach—the one we mentioned just now in the case of astronomy.12 Or don’t you know that people do something similar with (531a) harmony, too? They measure audible concordances and sounds against one another, and so labor in vain, just like astronomers.

GLAUCON: Yes, by the gods, and pretty ridiculous they are, too.They talk about something they call a “dense interval” or quarter tone13—putting their ears to their instruments, like someone trying to overhear what the neighbors are saying. And some say they hear a tone in between, and that it is the shortest interval by which they must measure, while others argue that this tone sounds the same as a quarter tone. Both groups put ears before the (b) understanding.

SOCRATES: You mean those excellent fellows who vex their strings, tor- turing them and stretching them on pegs. I won’t draw out the analogy by speaking of blows with the pick, or the charges laid against strings that are too responsive or too unresponsive. Instead, I will drop the analogy and say that I do not mean these people, but the ones we just said we were going to question about harmonics.You see, they do the same as the astronomers do. (c) I mean, it is in these audible concordances that they search for numbers, but they do not ascend to problems or investigate which numbers are in concord and which are not, or what the explanation is in each case.

GLAUCON: But that would be a daimonic task!

SOCRATES: Yet, it is useful in the search for the beautiful and the good!

Pursued for any other purpose, though, it is useless.

GLAUCON: I suppose so.

SOCRATES: Moreover, I take it that if the investigation of all the subjects we have mentioned arrives at what they share in common with one (d) another and what their afﬁnities are, and draws conclusions about their kin- ship, it does contribute something to our goal and is not labor in vain; but that otherwise it is in vain. [11]: 504c. [12]: 528b.

[13]: A dense interval is evidently the smallest difference in pitch that was recognized in ancient music.

(a) GLAUCON: I have the same hunch myself. But you are still talking about very big task, Socrates.

SOCRATES: Do you mean the prelude, or what? Or don’t you know that all these subjects are merely preludes to the theme14 itself that must be learned? I mean, you surely do not think that people who are clever in (e) these matters are dialecticians.

GLAUCON: No, by Zeus, I do not. Although, I have met a few exceptions.

SOCRATES: But did it ever seem to you that those who can neither give an account nor approve one know what any of the things are that we say they must know?

GLAUCON: Again, the answer is no. (532a) SOCRATES: Then isn’t this at last, Glaucon, the theme itself that dialectical discussion sings? It itself is intelligible. But the power of sight imitates it.We said that sight tries at last to look at the animals themselves, the stars them- selves, and, in the end, at the sun itself.15 In the same way, whenever some-

one tries, by means of dialectical discussion and without the aid of any sense-perceptions, to arrive through reason at the being of each thing itself, and does not give up until he grasps what good itself is16 with understand- (b) ing itself, he reaches the end of the intelligible realm, just as the other reached the end of the visible one.

GLAUCON: Absolutely.

SOCRATES: Well, then, don’t you call this journey17 dialectic?

GLAUCON: I do.

SOCRATES: Then the release from bonds and the turning around from shadows to statues and the light; and then the ascent out of the cave to the sun; and there the continuing inability to look directly at the animals, the plants, and the light of the sun, but instead at divine reﬂections in water and (c) shadows of the things that are, and not, as before, merely at shadows of stat- ues thrown by another source of light that, when judged in relation to the sun, is as shadowy as they—all this practice of the crafts we mentioned has the power to lead the best part of the soul upward until it sees the best among the things that are, just as before the clearest thing in the body was (d) led to the brightest thing in the bodily and visible world.

GLAUCON: I accept that this is so. And yet, I think it is very difﬁcult to accept; although—in another way—difﬁcult not to accept! All the same, [14]: Nomos: also, law.

[15]: See 516a–b.

[16]: Auto ho estin agathon: See Glossary of Terms s.v. what it is.

[17]: Poreia: An aporia (puzzle, problem—literally, a blockage on one’s journey forward) is what dialectic attempts to solve.

since the present occasion is not our only opportunity to hear these things, but we will get to return to them often in the future, let’s assume that what you said about them just now is true and turn to the theme itself, and dis- cuss it in the same way as we did the prelude. So, tell us then, in what way the power of dialectical discussion works, into what kinds it is divided, and what roads it follows. I mean, it is these, it seems, that would lead us at last (e) to that place which is a rest from the road, so to speak, for the one who reaches it, and an end of his journey.

SOCRATES: You won’t be able to follow me any farther, my dear Glau- (533a) con—though not because of any lack of eagerness on my part.You would no longer see an image of what we are describing, but the truth itself as it seems to me, at least.18 Whether it is really so or not—that’s not something on which it is any longer worth insisting. But that there is some such thing to be seen, that is something on which we must insist. Isn’t that so?

GLAUCON: Of course.

SOCRATES: And mustn’t we also insist that the power of dialectical discus- sion could reveal it only to someone experienced in the subjects we described, and cannot do so in any other way?

GLAUCON: Yes, that is worth insisting on, too. (b) SOCRATES: At the very least, no one will dispute our claim by arguing that there is another road of inquiry that tries to acquire a systematic and wholly general grasp of what each thing itself is. By contrast, all the other crafts are concerned with human beliefs and appetites, with growing or construction, or with the care of growing or constructed things. As for the rest, we described them as to some extent grasping what is—I mean, geometry and the subjects that follow it. For we saw that while they do dream about what is, they cannot see it while wide awake as long as they make use of hypoth- (c) eses that they leave undisturbed, and for which they cannot give any argu- ment. After all, when the ﬁrst principle is unknown, and the conclusion and the steps in between are put together out of what is unknown, what mechanism could possibly turn any agreement reached in such cases into knowledge?19

GLAUCON: None.

SOCRATES: Therefore, dialectic is the only investigation that, doing away (d) with hypotheses, journeys to the ﬁrst principle itself in order to be made secure. And when the eye of the soul is really buried in a sort of barbaric bog,20 dialectic gently pulls it out and leads it upward, using the crafts we [18]: See 506d8–e5.

[19]: See 510c1–511c2.

[20]: See 519a7–519b5.

described to help it and cooperate with it in turning the soul around. From force of habit, we have often called these branches of knowledge. But they need another name, since they are clearer than belief and darker than knowledge. We distinguished them by the term “thought” somewhere before.21 But I don’t suppose we will dispute about names, with matters as (e) important as those before us to investigate.

GLAUCON: Of course not, just as long as they express the state of clarity the soul possesses.

SOCRATES: It will be satisfactory, then, to do what we did before and call the ﬁrst section knowledge, the second thought, the third opinion, and the (534a) fourth imagination. The last two together we call belief, the other two, understanding.22 Belief is concerned with becoming; understanding with being. And as being is to becoming, so understanding is to belief; and as understanding is to belief, so knowledge is to belief and thought to imagi- nation. But as for the ratios between the things these deal with, and the division of either the believable or the intelligible section into two, let’s pass them by, Glaucon, in case they involve us in discussions many times longer than the ones we have already gone through.

GLAUCON: I agree with you about the rest of them, anyway, insofar as I (b) am able to follow.

SOCRATES: So don’t you, too, call someone a dialectician when he is able to grasp an account of the being of each thing? And when he cannot do so, won’t you, too, say that to the extent that he cannot give an account of something either to himself or to another, to that extent he does not understand it?

GLAUCON: How could I not?

SOCRATES: Then the same applies to the good. Unless someone can give an account of the form of the good, distinguishing it from everything else, and can survive all examination as if in a battle, striving to examine23 things (c) not in accordance with belief, but in accordance with being; and can jour- ney through all that with his account still intact, you will say that he does not know the good itself or any other good whatsoever. And if he does manage to grasp some image of it, you will say that it is through belief, not knowledge, that he grasps it; that he is dreaming and asleep throughout his [21]: 511d6–511e4.

[22]: The reference is to 511d6–e5, where the ﬁrst section is called understanding (noêsis), not knowledge (epistêmê). Since thought (dianoia) is not now a kind of knowledge, noêsis and epistêmê have in effect become one and the same. Epistêmê and dianoia are now jointly referred to as noêsis, because that whole section of the line on which they appear consists of intelligible objects (noêton).

[23]: Elengchein: (“to examine,”“to refute”)—as in the Socratic elenchus.

present life; and that, before he wakes up here, he will arrive in Hades and (d) go to sleep forever.

GLAUCON: Yes, by Zeus, I will certainly say all that.

SOCRATES: Then as for those children of yours, the ones you are rearing and educating in your discussion, if you ever reared them in fact, I don’t suppose that, while they are still as irrational as the proverbial lines,24 you would allow them to rule in your city or control the most important things.

GLAUCON: No, of course not.

SOCRATES: Won’t you prescribe in your legislation, then, that they are to give the most attention to the education that will enable them to ask and answer questions most knowledgeably?

(e) GLAUCON: I will prescribe it—together with you.

SOCRATES: Doesn’t it seem to you, then, that dialectic is just like a cap- stone we have placed on top of the subjects, and that no other subject can rightly be placed above it, but that our account of the subjects has now (535a) come to an end?

GLAUCON: It does.

SOCRATES: Then it remains for you to deal with the distribution of these subjects: to whom we will assign them and in what way.

GLAUCON: Clearly.

SOCRATES: Do you remember what sort of people we chose in our earlier selection of rulers?25 GLAUCON: How could I not?

SOCRATES: Well then, as regards the other requirements too, you must suppose that these same natures are to be chosen, since we have to select the most secure, the most courageous, and—as far as possible—the best- looking.26 In addition, we must look not only for people who have a noble (b) and valiant character, but for those who also have natural qualities condu- cive to this education of ours.

GLAUCON: Which ones in particular?

SOCRATES: They must be keen on the subjects, bless you, and learn them without difﬁculty. For people’s souls are much more likely to give up dur- ing strenuous studies than during physical training.The pain is more their own, you see, since it is peculiar to them and not shared with the body.

[24]: A pun made possible by the fact that alogon can mean “irrational” (as applied to people) and “incommensurable” (as applied to lines in geometry). [25]: 412b8–417b9.

[26]: See 402d1–4.

GLAUCON: That’s true.

SOCRATES: We must also look for someone who has a good memory, is (c) persistent, and is wholeheartedly in love with hard work. How else do you suppose he would be willing to carry out such hard physical labors and also complete so much learning and training?

GLAUCON: He would not, not unless his nature were an entirely good one.

SOCRATES: In any case, the mistake made at present—which, as we said before, explains why philosophy has fallen into dishonor—is that unworthy people take it up. For illegitimate people should not have taken it up, but genuine ones.

GLAUCON: How do you mean?

SOCRATES: In the ﬁrst place, the one who takes it up must not be half- hearted in his love of hard work, with one half of him loving hard work (d) and the other shirking it.That is what happens when someone is a lover of physical training and a lover of hunting and a lover of all kinds of hard bodily labor; yet is not a lover of learning, a lover of listening, or a keen investigator, but hates the work involved in all such things. And someone whose love of hard work tends in the opposite direction is also defective.

GLAUCON: That’s absolutely true.

SOCRATES: Similarly with regard to truth, won’t we say that a soul is (e) maimed if it hates a voluntary lie, cannot endure to have one in itself, and is greatly angered when others lie; but is nonetheless content to accept an involuntary lie, does not get irritated when it is caught being ignorant, and bears its ignorance easily, wallowing in it like a pig?27

(536a) GLAUCON: Absolutely.

SOCRATES: And with regard to temperance, courage, high-mindedness, and all the other parts of virtue, too, we must be especially on our guard to distinguish the illegitimate from the genuine.You see, when private indi- viduals or cities do not know how to investigate all these things fully, they unwittingly employ defectives and illegitimates as their friends or rulers for whatever services they happen to need.

GLAUCON: Yes, that’s just what happens.

SOCRATES: So we must take good care in all these matters, since, if we (b) bring people who are sound of limb and mind to so important a subject, and train and educate them in it, justice itself will not ﬁnd fault with us, and we will save both the city and its constitution. But if we bring people [27]: The difference between voluntary and involuntary lies is explained at 382a1– 383a7.

of a different sort to it, we will achieve precisely the opposite and let loose an even greater ﬂood of ridicule upon philosophy as well.

GLAUCON: That would be a shame.

SOCRATES: It certainly would. But I seem to have made myself a little ridiculous just now.

GLAUCON: In what way? (c) SOCRATES: I forgot we were playing and spoke too vehemently.You see, while I was speaking I looked upon philosophy, and when I saw it unde- servedly showered with abuse, I suppose I got irritated and, as if I were (a) angry with those responsible, I said what I had to say in too serious manner.

GLAUCON: Not too serious for me, by Zeus, as a member of the audience.

SOCRATES: But too serious for me as the speaker. In any case, let’s not for- get that in our earlier selection we chose older people, but here that is not (d) permitted.You see, we must not believe Solon when he says that as some- one grows older, he is able to learn a lot. On the contrary, he is even less able to learn than to run. It is to young people that all large and frequent labors properly belong.

GLAUCON: Necessarily so.

SOCRATES: Well, then, calculation, geometry, and all the preparatory edu- cation that serves as preparation for dialectic must be offered to them in childhood—and not in the shape of compulsory instruction, either.

GLAUCON: Why’s that? (e) SOCRATES: Because a free person should learn nothing slavishly. For while compulsory physical labors do no harm to the body, no compulsory instruction remains in the soul.

GLAUCON: That’s true.

SOCRATES: Well, then, do not use compulsion, my very good man, to train the children in these subjects; use play instead.That way you will also (537a) be able to see better what each of them is naturally suited for.

GLAUCON: What you say makes sense.

SOCRATES: Don’t you remember that we also said that the children were to be led into war on horseback as observers, and that, wherever it is safe, they should be brought to the front and given a taste of blood, just like young dogs?

GLAUCON: I do remember.

SOCRATES: Those who always show the greatest facility in dealing with all these labors, studies, and fears must be enrolled in a unit.

(b) GLAUCON: At what age?

SOCRATES: After they are released from compulsory physical training. For during that period, whether it is two or three years, they are incapable of doing anything else, since weariness and sleep are enemies of learning. At the same time, one of the important tests of each of them is how he fares in physical training.

GLAUCON: It certainly is.

SOCRATES: Then, after that period, those selected from among the twenty-year-olds will receive greater honors than the others. Moreover, the (c) subjects they learned in no particular order in their education as children, they must now bring together into a uniﬁed vision of their kinship with one another and with the nature of what is.

GLAUCON: That, at any rate, is the only instruction that remains secure in those who receive it.

SOCRATES: It is also the greatest test of which nature is dialectical and which is not. For the person who can achieve a uniﬁed vision is dialectical, and the one who cannot isn’t.

GLAUCON: I agree.

SOCRATES: Well, then, you will have to look out for those among them (d) who most possess that quality; who are resolute in their studies and also res- olute in war and the other things conventionally expected of them. And when they have passed their thirtieth year, you will have to select them in turn from among those selected earlier and assign them yet greater honors, and test them by means of the power of dialectical discussion to see which of them can relinquish his eyes and other senses, and travel on in the com- pany of truth to what itself is. And here, comrade, you have a task that needs a lot of safeguarding.

GLAUCON: How so? (e) SOCRATES: Don’t you realize the harm caused by dialectical discussion as it is currently practiced?

GLAUCON: What harm?

SOCRATES: Its practitioners are ﬁlled with lawlessness.

GLAUCON: They certainly are.

SOCRATES: Do you think it is at all surprising that this happens to them?

Aren’t you sympathetic?

GLAUCON: Why should I be?

SOCRATES: It is like the case of a supposititious child brought up amid (538a) great wealth, a large and powerful family, and many ﬂatterers, who ﬁnds out, when he has become a man, that he is not the child of his professed

parents and that he cannot discover his real ones. Do you have any hunch as to what his attitude would be to the ﬂatterers, and to his supposed parents, during the time when he did not know about the exchange, and, on the other hand, when he did know? Or would you rather hear my hunch?

GLAUCON: I would.

SOCRATES: Well, then, my hunch is that he would be more likely to (b) honor his father, his mother, and the rest of his supposed family than the ﬂatterers, less likely to overlook any of their needs, less likely to treat them lawlessly in word or deed, and less likely to disobey them than the ﬂatterers in any matters of importance, in the time when he did not know the truth.

GLAUCON: Probably so.

SOCRATES: But when he became aware of the truth, on the other hand, my hunch is that he would withdraw his honor and devotion from his fam- ily and increase them for the ﬂatterers, whom he would obey far more than before, and he would begin to live the way they did, spend time with them (c) openly, and—unless he was thoroughly good by nature—care nothing for that father of his or any of the rest of his supposed family.

GLAUCON: All that would probably happen as you say. But how is it like the case of those who take up argument?

SOCRATES: As follows. I take it we hold from childhood convictions about what things are just and ﬁne; we are brought up with them as with our par- ents; we obey and honor them.

GLAUCON: Yes, we do. (d) SOCRATES: And there are also other practices, opposite to those, which possess pleasures that ﬂatter our soul and attract it to themselves, but which do not persuade people who are at all moderate—who continue to honor and obey the convictions of their fathers.

GLAUCON: That’s right.

SOCRATES: What happens, then, when someone of that sort is met by the question,“What is the ﬁne?” and, when he answers what he has heard from the traditional lawgiver, the argument refutes him; and by refuting him often and in many ways, reduces him to the belief that the ﬁne is no more (e) ﬁne than shameful, and the same with the just, the good, and the things he honored most—what do you think he will do after that about honoring and obeying his earlier convictions?

GLAUCON: It is inevitable that he won’t honor or obey them in the same way.

SOCRATES: Then when he no longer regards them as honorable or as his own kin the way he did before, and cannot discover the true ones, will he (539a) be likely to adopt any other sort of life than the one that ﬂatters him?

GLAUCON: No, he won’t.

SOCRATES: And so he will be taken, I suppose, to have changed from being law-abiding to being lawless.

GLAUCON: Inevitably.

SOCRATES: Isn’t it likely, then, that this is what will happen to people who (a) take up argument in that way, and, as I said just now, don’t they deserve lot of sympathy?

GLAUCON: Yes, and pity too.

SOCRATES: Then if you do not want your thirty-year-olds to be objects of such pity, won’t you have to employ every sort of precaution when they take up argument?

GLAUCON: Yes, indeed. (b) SOCRATES: And isn’t one very effective precaution not to let them taste argument while they are young? I mean, I don’t suppose it has escaped your notice that when young people get their ﬁrst taste of argument, they misuse it as if it were playing a game, always using it for disputation.28 They imitate those who have refuted them by refuting others themselves,29 and, like

puppies, enjoy dragging and tearing with argument anyone within reach.

GLAUCON: Excessively so.

SOCRATES: Then, when they have refuted many themselves and been (c) refuted by many, they quickly fall into violently disbelieving everything they believed before. And as a result of this, they themselves and the whole of philosophy as well are discredited in the eyes of others.

GLAUCON: That’s absolutely true.

SOCRATES: But an older person would not be willing to take part in such madness. He will imitate someone who is willing to engage in dialectical discussion and look for the truth, rather than someone who plays at dispu- tation as a game. He will be more moderate himself and will bring honor, (d) rather than discredit, to the practice.

GLAUCON: That’s right.

SOCRATES: And wasn’t everything we said before this also said as a precau- tion—that those with whom one takes part in arguments are to be orderly and steady by nature, and not, as now, those, however unsuitable, who chance to come along?

GLAUCON: Yes, it was.

[28]: See Glossary of Terms s.v. disputation.

[29]: See Apology 23c.

SOCRATES: Is it enough, then, if someone devotes himself continuously and strenuously to taking part in argument, doing nothing else, but training in it just as he did in the physical training that is its counterpart, but for twice as many years? (e) GLAUCON: Do you mean six years or four?

SOCRATES: It does not matter. Make it ﬁve.You see, after that, you must make them go down into the cave again, and compel them to take com- mand in matters of war and the other ofﬁces suitable for young people, so that they won’t be inferior to the others in experience.And in these ofﬁces, too, they must be tested to see whether they will remain steadfast when (540a) they are pulled in different directions, or give way.

GLAUCON: How much time do you assign to that?

SOCRATES: Fifteen years. Then, at the age of ﬁfty, those who have sur- vived the tests and are entirely best in every practical task and every science must be led at last to the end and compelled to lift up the radiant light of their souls, and to look toward what itself provides light for everything.And once they have seen the good itself, they must use it as their model and put the city, its citizens, and themselves in order throughout the remainder of (b) their lives, each in turn.They will spend most of their time doing philoso- phy, but, when his turn comes, each must labor in politics and rule for the city’s sake, not as something ﬁne, but rather as something that must be done.30 In that way, always having educated others like themselves to take

their place as guardians of the city, they will depart for the Isles of the Blessed and dwell there. And the city will publicly establish memorials and sacriﬁces to them as daimons,31 if the Pythia agrees; but if not, as happy and (c) divine people.

GLAUCON: Like a sculptor,32 Socrates, you have produced thoroughly beautiful ruling men!

SOCRATES: And ruling women, too, Glaucon.You see, you must not think that what I have said applies any more to men than it does to those women of theirs who are born with the appropriate natures.

GLAUCON: That’s right, if indeed they are to share everything equally with the men, as we said.

SOCRATES: Well, then, do you agree that the things we have said about (d) the city and its constitution are not altogether wishful thinking; that it is difﬁcult for them to come about, but possible in a way, and in no way except the one we described: namely, when one or more true philosophers [30]: See 346e3–347d8, 520e4–521a8.

[31]: See Glossary of Terms s.v. daimon.

[32]: See 361d4–6.

come to power in a city—people who think little of present honors, regarding them as illiberal and worthless, who prize what is right and the (e) honors that come from it above everything, and who consider justice as the most important and most essential thing, serving it and fostering it as they set their city in order?

GLAUCON: How will they do that?

SOCRATES: Everyone in the city who is over ten years old they will send (541a) into the country. They will take over the children, and far removed from current habits, which their parents possess, they will bring them up in their own ways and laws, which are the ones we described before. And with the city and constitution we were discussing thus established in the quickest and easiest way, it will itself be happy and bring the greatest beneﬁt to the people among whom it comes to be.

GLAUCON: That’s by far the quickest and easiest way. And in my opinion, Socrates, you have well described how it would come into existence, if it (b) ever did.

SOCRATES: Haven’t we said enough, then, about this city and the man who is like it? For surely it is clear what sort of person we will say he has to be.

GLAUCON: Yes, it is clear. And as for your question, I think we have reached the end of this topic.

Book 7 ​

Book 7