Plato, Republic,
book 1, sections 336B-354C1
Several
times in the course of the discussion Thrasymachus had made an
attempt to get the argument into his own hands, and had been put down
by the rest of the company, who wanted to hear the end. But when Polemarchus and I had done speaking and there was a pause, he could no longer
hold his peace; and, gathering himself up, he came at us like a
wild beast, seeking to devour us. We were quite panic-stricken
at the sight of him.
He
roared out to the whole company: What folly. Socrates, has taken possession
of you all? And why, sillybillies, do you knock under to one another?
I say that if you want really to know what justice is, you should not
only ask but answer, and you should not seek honour to yourself from the refutation of an opponent, but have your own answer; for there
is many a one who can ask and cannot answer. And now I will not
have you say that justice is duty or advantage or profit or
gain or interest, for this sort of nonsense will not do for me;
I must have clearness and accuracy.
I was panic-stricken at his words, and could not look at him without trembling. Indeed I believe that if I had not fixed my eye upon
him, I should have been struck dumb: but when I saw his fury
rising, I looked at him first, and was therefore able to reply
to him.
Thrasymachus, I said, with a quiver, don't be hard upon us. Polemarchus and I may have been guilty of a little mistake in the argument,
but I can assure you that the error was not intentional. If we
were seeking for a piece of gold, you would not imagine that we
were 'knocking under to one another,' and so losing our chance
of finding it. And why, when we are seeking for justice, a
thing more precious than many pieces of gold, do you say that
we are weakly yielding to one another and not doing our utmost to
get at the truth? Nay, my good friend, we are most willing and anxious to do so, but the fact is that we cannot. And if so, you people
who know all things should pity us and not be angry with us.
How characteristic of Socrates! he replied, with a bitter laugh; --that's
your ironical style! Did I not foresee --have I not already told you,
that whatever he was asked he would refuse to answer, and try irony or any other shuffle, in order that he might avoid answering?
You are a philosopher, Thrasymachus, I replied, and well know that if
you ask a person what numbers make up twelve, taking care to prohibit him whom you ask from answering twice six, or three times four, or
six times two, or four times three, 'for this sort of nonsense
will not do for me,' --then obviously, that is your way of
putting the question, no one can answer you. But suppose that
he were to retort, 'Thrasymachus, what do you mean? If one of
these numbers which you interdict be the true answer to the
question, am I falsely to say some other number which is not
the right one? --is that your meaning?' -How would you answer him?
Just as if the two cases were at all alike! he said.
Why
should they not be? I replied; and even if they are not, but only appear
to be so to the person who is asked, ought he not to say what he thinks,
whether you and I forbid him or not?
I presume then that you are going to make one of the interdicted answers?
I dare say that I may, notwithstanding the danger, if upon reflection I approve of any of them.
But what if I give you an answer about justice other and better, he
said, than any of these? What do you deserve to have done to you?
Done to me! --as becomes the ignorant, I must learn from the wise --that
is what I deserve to have done to me.
What, and no payment! a pleasant notion!
I
will pay when I have the money, I replied.
But you have, Socrates, said Glaucon: and you, Thrasymachus,
need be under no anxiety about money, for we will all make a
contribution for Socrates.
Yes, he replied, and then Socrates will do as he always does --refuse to answer himself, but take and pull to pieces the answer of some
one else.
Why, my good friend, I said, how can any one answer who knows, and
says that he knows, just nothing; and who, even if he has some faint notions of his own, is told by a man of authority not to utter
them? The natural thing is, that the speaker should be some one
like yourself who professes to know and can tell what he knows.
Will you then kindly answer, for the edification of the company
and of myself ?
Glaucon and the rest of the company joined in my request and Thrasymachus, as any one might see, was in reality eager to speak; for he
thought that he had an excellent answer, and would distinguish
himself. But at first he to insist on my answering; at length
he consented to begin. Behold, he said, the wisdom of Socrates;
he refuses to teach himself, and goes about learning of others,
to whom he never even says thank you.
That I learn of others, I replied, is quite true; but that I am ungrateful
I wholly deny. Money I have none, and therefore I pay in praise, which
is all I have: and how ready I am to praise any one who appears to me
to speak well you will very soon find out when you answer; for I expect that you will answer well.
Listen, then, he said; I proclaim that justice is nothing else than
the interest of the stronger. And now why do you not me? But of course you won't.
Let me first understand you, I replied. justice, as you say, is the
interest of the stronger. What, Thrasymachus, is the meaning of this? You cannot mean to say that because Polydamas, the pancratiast, is
stronger than we are, and finds the eating of beef conducive to
his bodily strength, that to eat beef is therefore equally for
our good who are weaker than he is, and right and just for us?
That's abominable of you, Socrates; you take the words in the sense which is most damaging to the argument.
Not at all, my good sir, I said; I am trying to understand them; and
I wish that you would be a little clearer.
Well, he said, have you never heard that forms of government differ; there are tyrannies, and there are democracies, and there are aristocracies?
Yes, I know.
And
the government is the ruling power in each state?
And
the different forms of government make laws democratical, aristocratical, tyrannical, with a view to their several interests; and these
laws, which are made by them for their own interests, are the
justice which they deliver to their subjects, and him who
transgresses them they punish as a breaker of the law, and
unjust. And that is what I mean when I say that in all states
there is the same principle of justice, which is the interest of the
government; and as the government must be supposed to have power, the only reasonable conclusion is, that everywhere there is one
principle of justice, which is the interest of the stronger.
Now I understand you, I said; and whether you are right or not I
will try to discover. But let me remark, that in defining justice you have yourself used the word 'interest' which you forbade me to
use. It is true, however, that in your definition the words 'of
the stronger' are added.
A small addition, you must allow, he said.
Great
or small, never mind about that: we must first enquire whether what
you are saying is the truth. Now we are both agreed that justice is interest of some sort, but you go on to say 'of the stronger';
about this addition I am not so sure, and must therefore
consider further.
Proceed.
I
will; and first tell me, Do you admit that it is just or subjects to
obey their rulers?
I do.
But
are the rulers of states absolutely infallible, or are they sometimes liable to err?
To be sure, he replied, they are liable to err.
Then
in making their laws they may sometimes make them rightly, and sometimes
not?
True.
When
they make them rightly, they make them agreeably to their interest; when they are mistaken, contrary to their interest; you admit that?
Yes.
And
the laws which they make must be obeyed by their subjects, --and that
is what you call justice?
Doubtless.
Then
justice, according to your argument, is not only obedience to the
interest of the stronger but the reverse?
What is that you are saying? he asked.
I
am only repeating what you are saying, I believe. But let us consider: Have we not admitted that the rulers may be mistaken about their
own interest in what they command, and also that to obey them
is justice? Has not that been admitted?
Yes.
Then
you must also have acknowledged justice not to be for the interest of
the stronger, when the rulers unintentionally command things to be done which are to their own injury. For if, as you say, justice is the
obedience which the subject renders to their commands, in that
case, O wisest of men, is there any escape from the conclusion
that the weaker are commanded to do, not what is for the
interest, but what is for the injury of the stronger?
Nothing can be clearer, Socrates, said Polemarchus.
Yes, said Cleitophon, interposing, if you are allowed to be his
witness.
But there is no need of any witness, said Polemarchus, for Thrasymachus himself acknowledges that rulers may sometimes command what is not
for their own interest, and that for subjects to obey them is justice.
Yes, Polemarchus, --Thrasymachus said that for subjects to do what was
commanded by their rulers is just.
Yes, Cleitophon, but he also said that justice is the interest of
the stronger, and, while admitting both these propositions, he further acknowledged that the stronger may command the weaker who are his
subjects to do what is not for his own interest; whence follows
that justice is the injury quite as much as the interest of the
stronger.
But, said Cleitophon, he meant by the interest of the stronger what
the stronger thought to be his interest, --this was what the weaker had to do; and this was affirmed by him to be justice.
Those were not his words, rejoined Polemarchus.
Never mind, I replied, if he now says that they are, let us
accept his statement. Tell me, Thrasymachus, I said, did you
mean by justice what the stronger thought to be his interest,
whether really so or not?
Certainly not, he said. Do you suppose that I call him who is mistaken the stronger at the time when he is mistaken?
Yes, I said, my impression was that you did so, when you admitted that
the ruler was not infallible but might be sometimes mistaken.
You argue like an informer, Socrates. Do you mean, for example, that
he who is mistaken about the sick is a physician in that he is mistaken? or that he who errs in arithmetic or grammar is an arithmetician
or grammarian at the me when he is making the mistake, in
respect of the mistake? True, we say that the physician or
arithmetician or grammarian has made a mistake, but this is
only a way of speaking; for the fact is that neither the grammarian nor any other person of skill ever makes a mistake in so far as he
is what his name implies; they none of them err unless their
skill fails them, and then they cease to be skilled artists. No
artist or sage or ruler errs at the time when he is what his
name implies; though he is commonly said to err, and I adopted
the common mode of speaking. But to be perfectly accurate,
since you are such a lover of accuracy, we should say that the ruler,
in so far as he is the ruler, is unerring, and, being unerring, always
commands that which is for his own interest; and the subject is required
to execute his commands; and therefore, as I said at first and now
repeat, justice is the interest of the stronger.
Indeed, Thrasymachus, and do I really appear to you to argue like an
informer?
Certainly, he replied.
And
you suppose that I ask these questions with any design of injuring you
in the argument?
Nay, he replied, 'suppose' is not the word --I know it; but you will
be found out, and by sheer force of argument you will never prevail.
I shall not make the attempt, my dear man; but to avoid any misunderstanding occurring between us in future, let me ask, in what sense do you
speak of a ruler or stronger whose interest, as you were
saying, he being the superior, it is just that the inferior
should execute --is he a ruler in the popular or in the strict
sense of the term?
In the strictest of all senses, he said. And now cheat and play the
informer if you can; I ask no quarter at your hands. But you never will
be able, never.
And do you imagine, I said, that I am such a madman as to try and cheat,
Thrasymachus? I might as well shave a lion.
Why, he said, you made the attempt a minute ago, and you failed.
Enough,
I said, of these civilities. It will be better that I should ask
you a question: Is the physician, taken in that strict sense of which you are speaking, a healer of the sick or a maker of money? And
remember that I am now speaking of the true physician.
A healer of the sick, he replied.
And
the pilot --that is to say, the true pilot --is he a captain of sailors
or a mere sailor?
A captain of sailors.
The
circumstance that he sails in the ship is not to be taken into account;
neither is he to be called a sailor; the name pilot by which he is
distinguished has nothing to do with sailing, but is significant of his skill and of his authority over the sailors.
Very true, he said.
Now,
I said, every art has an interest?
For
which the art has to consider and provide?
And
the interest of any art is the perfection of it --this and nothing else?
What do you mean?
I
mean what I may illustrate negatively by the example of the body. Suppose
you were to ask me whether the body is self-sufficing or has wants, I should reply: Certainly the body has wants; for the body may be
ill and require to be cured, and has therefore interests to
which the art of medicine ministers; and this is the origin and
intention of medicine, as you will acknowledge. Am I not right?
Quite right, he replied.
But
is the art of medicine or any other art faulty or deficient in any
quality in the same way that the eye may be deficient in sight or the ear fail of hearing, and therefore requires another art to provide
for the interests of seeing and hearing --has art in itself, I
say, any similar liability to fault or defect, and does every
art require another supplementary art to provide for its
interests, and that another and another without end? Or have
the arts to look only after their own interests? Or have they no
need either of themselves or of another? --having no faults or defects, they have no need to correct them, either by the exercise of their
own art or of any other; they have only to consider the
interest of their subject-matter. For every art remains pure
and faultless while remaining true --that is to say, while
perfect and unimpaired. Take the words in your precise sense, and
tell me whether I am not right."
Yes, clearly.
Then
medicine does not consider the interest of medicine, but the interest of the body?
True, he said.
Nor
does the art of horsemanship consider the interests of the art of
horsemanship, but the interests of the horse; neither do any other arts care for themselves, for they have no needs; they care only for
that which is the subject of their art?
True, he said.
But
surely, Thrasymachus, the arts are the superiors and rulers of their
own subjects?
To this he assented with a good deal of reluctance.
Then,
I said, no science or art considers or enjoins the interest of the
stronger or superior, but only the interest of the subject and weaker?
He made an attempt to contest this proposition also, but finally acquiesced.
Then, I continued, no physician, in so far as he is a physician, considers
his own good in what he prescribes, but the good of his patient; for
the true physician is also a ruler having the human body as a subject, and is not a mere money-maker; that has been admitted?
Yes.
And
the pilot likewise, in the strict sense of the term, is a ruler of
sailors and not a mere sailor?
That has been admitted.
And
such a pilot and ruler will provide and prescribe for the interest of
the sailor who is under him, and not for his own or the ruler's interest?
He gave a reluctant 'Yes.'
Then,
I said, Thrasymachus, there is no one in any rule who, in so far
as he is a ruler, considers or enjoins what is for his own interest, but always what is for the interest of his subject or suitable to
his art; to that he looks, and that alone he considers in
everything which he says and does.
When we had got to this point in the argument, and every one saw that
the definition of justice had been completely upset, Thrasymachus, instead
of replying to me, said: Tell me, Socrates, have you got a nurse?
Why do you ask such a question, I said, when you ought rather to be
answering?
Because she leaves you to snivel, and never wipes your nose: she has
not even taught you to know the shepherd from the sheep.
What makes you say that? I replied.
Because
you fancy that the shepherd or neatherd fattens of tends the sheep
or oxen with a view to their own good and not to the good of himself or his master; and you further imagine that the rulers of states,
if they are true rulers, never think of their subjects as
sheep, and that they are not studying their own advantage day
and night. Oh, no; and so entirely astray are you in your ideas
about the just and unjust as not even to know that justice and
the just are in reality another's good; that is to say, the
interest of the ruler and stronger, and the loss of the subject and servant; and injustice the opposite; for the unjust is lord over
the truly simple and just: he is the stronger, and his subjects
do what is for his interest, and minister to his happiness,
which is very far from being their own. Consider further, most
foolish Socrates, that the just is always a loser in comparison
with the unjust. First of all, in private contracts: wherever
the unjust is the partner of the just you will find that, when the
partnership is dissolved, the unjust man has always more and the just less. Secondly, in their dealings with the State: when there is an
income tax, the just man will pay more and the unjust less on
the same amount of income; and when there is anything to be
received the one gains nothing and the other much. Observe also
what happens when they take an office; there is the just man
neglecting his affairs and perhaps suffering other losses, and
getting nothing out of the public, because he is just; moreover he
is hated by his friends and acquaintance for refusing to serve them in unlawful ways. But all this is reversed in the case of the
unjust man. I am speaking, as before, of injustice on a large
scale in which the advantage of the unjust is more apparent;
and my meaning will be most clearly seen if we turn to that
highest form of injustice in which the criminal is the happiest
of men, and the sufferers or those who refuse to do injustice are
the most miserable --that is to say tyranny, which by fraud and force takes away the property of others, not little by little but
wholesale; comprehending in one, things sacred as well as
profane, private and public; for which acts of wrong, if he
were detected perpetrating any one of them singly, he would be
punished and incur great disgrace --they who do such wrong in
particular cases are called robbers of temples, and man-stealers and
burglars and swindlers and thieves. But when a man besides taking away the money of the citizens has made slaves of them, then, instead
of these names of reproach, he is termed happy and blessed, not
only by the citizens but by all who hear of his having achieved
the consummation of injustice. For mankind censure injustice,
fearing that they may be the victims of it and not because they
shrink from committing it. And thus, as I have shown, Socrates,
injustice, when on a sufficient scale, has more strength and
freedom and mastery than justice; and, as I said at first, justice is
the interest of the stronger, whereas injustice is a man's own profit and interest.
Thrasymachus, when he had thus spoken, having, like a bathman, deluged
our ears with his words, had a mind to go away. But the company would
not let him; they insisted that he should remain and defend his position; and I myself added my own humble request that he would not leave
us. Thrasymachus, I said to him, excellent man, how suggestive
are your remarks! And are you going to run away before you have
fairly taught or learned whether they are true or not? Is the
attempt to determine the way of man's life so small a matter in
your eyes --to determine how life may be passed by each one of
us to the greatest advantage?
And do I differ from you, he said, as to the importance of the enquiry?
You appear rather, I replied, to have no care or thought about us,
Thrasymachus --whether we live better or worse from not knowing what you say you know, is to you a matter of indifference. Prithee,
friend, do not keep your knowledge to yourself; we are a large
party; and any benefit which you confer upon us will be amply
rewarded. For my own part I openly declare that I am not
convinced, and that I do not believe injustice to be more
gainful than justice, even if uncontrolled and allowed to have free
play. For, granting that there may be an unjust man who is able to commit
injustice either by fraud or force, still this does not convince me
of the superior advantage of injustice, and there may be others who are in the same predicament with myself. Perhaps we may be wrong;
if so, you in your wisdom should convince us that we are
mistaken in preferring justice to injustice.
And how am I to convince you, he said, if you are not already convinced by what I have just said; what more can I do for you? Would you
have me put the proof bodily into your souls?
Heaven forbid! I said; I would only ask you to be consistent; or, if
you change, change openly and let there be no deception. For I must remark, Thrasymachus, if you will recall what was previously said,
that although you began by defining the true physician in an
exact sense, you did not observe a like exactness when speaking
of the shepherd; you thought that the shepherd as a shepherd
tends the sheep not with a view to their own good, but like a
mere diner or banqueter with a view to the pleasures of the
table; or, again, as a trader for sale in the market, and not as a
shepherd. Yet surely the art of the shepherd is concerned only with the good of his subjects; he has only to provide the best for them,
since the perfection of the art is already ensured whenever all
the requirements of it are satisfied. And that was what I was
saying just now about the ruler. I conceived that the art of
the ruler, considered as ruler, whether in a state or in
private life, could only regard the good of his flock or
subjects; whereas you seem to think that the rulers in states, that is to say, the true rulers, like being in authority.
Think! Nay, I am sure of it.
Then
why in the case of lesser offices do men never take them willingly without
payment, unless under the idea that they govern for the advantage not
of themselves but of others? Let me ask you a question: Are not the several arts different, by reason of their each having a separate
function?
And,
my dear illustrious friend, do say what you think, that we may make a little progress.
Yes, that is the difference, he replied.
And
each art gives us a particular good and not merely a general one --medicine,
for example, gives us health; navigation, safety at sea, and so
on?
Yes, he said.
And
the art of payment has the special function of giving pay: but we
do not confuse this with other arts, any more than the art of the pilot is to be confused with the art of medicine, because the health of
the pilot may be improved by a sea voyage. You would not be
inclined to say, would you, that navigation is the art of
medicine, at least if we are to adopt your exact use of
language?
Certainly not.
Or
because a man is in good health when he receives pay you would not say
that the art of payment is medicine?
I should say not.
Nor
would you say that medicine is the art of receiving pay because a
man takes fees when he is engaged in healing?
Certainly not.
And
we have admitted, I said, that the good of each art is specially confined
to the art?
Yes.
Then,
if there be any good which all artists have in common, that is to
be attributed to something of which they all have the common use?
True, he replied.
And
when the artist is benefited by receiving pay the advantage is gained
by an additional use of the art of pay, which is not the art professed by him?
He gave a reluctant assent to this.
Then
the pay is not derived by the several artists from their respective arts. But the truth is, that while the art of medicine gives
health, and the art of the builder builds a house, another art
attends them which is the art of pay. The various arts may be
doing their own business and benefiting that over which they
preside, but would the artist receive any benefit from his art
unless he were paid as well?
I suppose not.
But
does he therefore confer no benefit when he works for nothing?
Certainly,
he confers a benefit.
Then
now, Thrasymachus, there is no longer any doubt that neither arts nor
governments provide for their own interests; but, as we were before saying, they rule and provide for the interests of their subjects
who are the weaker and not the stronger --to their good they
attend and not to the good of the superior.
And this is the reason, my dear Thrasymachus, why, as I was just now
saying, no one is willing to govern; because no one likes to take in hand the reformation of evils which are not his concern without
remuneration. For, in the execution of his work, and in giving
his orders to another, the true artist does not regard his own
interest, but always that of his subjects; and therefore in
order that rulers may be willing to rule, they must be paid in
one of three modes of payment: money, or honour, or a penalty for
refusing.
What do you mean, Socrates? said Glaucon. The first two modes
of payment are intelligible enough, but what the penalty is I
do not understand, or how a penalty can be a payment.
You mean that you do not understand the nature of this payment which
to the best men is the great inducement to rule? Of course you know that ambition and avarice are held to be, as indeed they are, a disgrace?
Very true.
And
for this reason, I said, money and honour have no attraction for them;
good men do not wish to be openly demanding payment for governing and
so to get the name of hirelings, nor by secretly helping themselves out of the public revenues to get the name of thieves. And not
being ambitious they do not care about honour. Wherefore
necessity must be laid upon them, and they must be induced to
serve from the fear of punishment. And this, as I imagine, is
the reason why the forwardness to take office, instead of
waiting to be compelled, has been deemed dishonourable. Now the worst part of the punishment is that he who refuses to rule is liable to
be ruled by one who is worse than himself. And the fear of
this, as I conceive, induces the good to take office, not
because they would, but because they cannot help --not under
the idea that they are going to have any benefit or enjoyment
themselves, but as a necessity, and because they are not able to
commit the task of ruling to any one who is better than themselves, or indeed as good. For there is reason to think that if a city
were composed entirely of good men, then to avoid office would
be as much an object of contention as to obtain office is at
present; then we should have plain proof that the true ruler is
not meant by nature to regard his own interest, but that of his
subjects; and every one who knew this would choose rather to
receive a benefit from another than to have the trouble of conferring one. So far am I from agreeing with Thrasymachus that justice is
the interest of the stronger. This latter question need not be
further discussed at present; but when Thrasymachus says that
the life of the unjust is more advantageous than that of the
just, his new statement appears to me to be of a far more
serious character. Which of us has spoken truly? And which sort
of life, Glaucon, do you prefer?
I for my part deem the life of the just to be the more advantageous, he answered.
Did you hear all the advantages of the unjust which Thrasymachus was
rehearsing?
Yes, I heard him, he replied, but he has not convinced me.
Then
shall we try to find some way of convincing him, if we can, that he
is saying what is not true?
Most certainly, he replied.
If,
I said, he makes a set speech and we make another recounting all the
advantages of being just, and he answers and we rejoin, there must be
a numbering and measuring of the goods which are claimed on either side, and in the end we shall want judges to decide; but if we proceed
in our enquiry as we lately did, by making admissions to one
another, we shall unite the offices of judge and advocate in
our own persons.
Very good, he said.
And
which method do I understand you to prefer? I said.
Well,
then, Thrasymachus, I said, suppose you begin at the beginning and
answer me. You say that perfect injustice is more gainful than perfect justice?
Yes, that is what I say, and I have given you my reasons.
And
what is your view about them? Would you call one of them virtue and
the other vice?
Certainly.
I
suppose that you would call justice virtue and injustice vice?
What
a charming notion! So likely too, seeing that I affirm injustice to
be profitable and justice not.
What else then would you say?
And
would you call justice vice?
No,
I would rather say sublime simplicity.
Then
would you call injustice malignity?
No;
I would rather say discretion.
And
do the unjust appear to you to be wise and good?
Yes,
he said; at any rate those of them who are able to be perfectly unjust,
and who have the power of subduing states and nations; but perhaps you
imagine me to be talking of cutpurses.
Even this profession if undetected has advantages, though they are
not to be compared with those of which I was just now speaking.
I do not think that I misapprehend your meaning, Thrasymachus, I
replied; but still I cannot hear without amazement that you class injustice with wisdom and virtue, and justice with the opposite.
Certainly I do so class them.
Now,
I said, you are on more substantial and almost unanswerable ground; for if the injustice which you were maintaining to be profitable
had been admitted by you as by others to be vice and deformity,
an answer might have been given to you on received principles;
but now I perceive that you will call injustice honourable and
strong, and to the unjust you will attribute all the qualities
which were attributed by us before to the just, seeing that you
do not hesitate to rank injustice with wisdom and virtue.
You have guessed most infallibly, he replied.
Then
I certainly ought not to shrink from going through with the argument so long as I have reason to think that you, Thrasymachus, are
speaking your real mind; for I do believe that you are now in
earnest and are not amusing yourself at our expense.
I may be in earnest or not, but what is that to you? --to refute the
argument is your business.
Very true, I said; that is what I have to do: But will you be so good
as answer yet one more question? Does the just man try to gain any advantage
over the just?
Far otherwise; if he did would not be the simple, amusing creature which
he is.
And would he try to go beyond just action?
And
how would he regard the attempt to gain an advantage over the unjust; would that be considered by him as just or unjust?
He would think it just, and would try to gain the advantage; but he
would not be able.
Whether he would or would not be able, I said, is not to the point. My question is only whether the just man, while refusing to have
more than another just man, would wish and claim to have more
than the unjust?
Yes, he would.
And
what of the unjust --does he claim to have more than the just man and
to do more than is just
Of course, he said, for he claims to have more than all men.
And
the unjust man will strive and struggle to obtain more than the unjust
man or action, in order that he may have more than all?
True.
We
may put the matter thus, I said --the just does not desire more than
his like but more than his unlike, whereas the unjust desires more than both his like and his unlike?
Nothing, he said, can be better than that statement.
And
the unjust is good and wise, and the just is neither?
And
is not the unjust like the wise and good and the just unlike them?
Of course, he said, he who is of a certain nature, is like those who
are of a certain nature; he who is not, not.
Each of them, I said, is such as his like is?
Very
good, Thrasymachus, I said; and now to take the case of the arts: you
would admit that one man is a musician and another not a musician?
Yes.
And
which is wise and which is foolish?
Clearly
the musician is wise, and he who is not a musician is foolish.
And he is good in as far as he is wise, and bad in as far as he is
foolish?
Yes.
And
you would say the same sort of thing of the physician?
And
do you think, my excellent friend, that a musician when he adjusts the lyre would desire or claim to exceed or go beyond a musician
in the tightening and loosening the strings?
I do not think that he would.
But
he would claim to exceed the non-musician?
And
what would you say of the physician? In prescribing meats and drinks would he wish to go beyond another physician or beyond the
practice of medicine?
He would not.
But
he would wish to go beyond the non-physician?
And
about knowledge and ignorance in general; see whether you think that
any man who has knowledge ever would wish to have the choice of saying or doing more than another man who has knowledge. Would he not
rather say or do the same as his like in the same case?
That, I suppose, can hardly be denied.
And
what of the ignorant? would he not desire to have more than either the knowing or the ignorant?
I dare say.
Then
the wise and good will not desire to gain more than his like, but
more than his unlike and opposite?
I suppose so.
Whereas
the bad and ignorant will desire to gain more than both?
But
did we not say, Thrasymachus, that the unjust goes beyond both his
like and unlike? Were not these your words? They were.
They were.
And
you also said that the lust will not go beyond his like but his unlike?
Yes.
Then
the just is like the wise and good, and the unjust like the evil and
ignorant?
That is the inference.
And
each of them is such as his like is?
Then
the just has turned out to be wise and good and the unjust evil and
ignorant.
Thrasymachus made all these admissions, not fluently, as I repeat them,
but with extreme reluctance; it was a hot summer's day, and the perspiration poured from him in torrents; and then I saw what I had never seen
before, Thrasymachus blushing. As we were now agreed that
justice was virtue and wisdom, and injustice vice and
ignorance, I proceeded to another point:
Well, I said, Thrasymachus, that matter is now settled; but were we
not also saying that injustice had strength; do you remember?
Yes, I remember, he said, but do not suppose that I approve of what
you are saying or have no answer; if however I were to answer, you would be quite certain to accuse me of haranguing; therefore
either permit me to have my say out, or if you would rather
ask, do so, and I will answer 'Very good,' as they say to
story-telling old women, and will nod 'Yes' and 'No.'
Certainly not, I said, if contrary to your real opinion.
Yes,
he said, I will, to please you, since you will not let me speak. What
else would you have?
Nothing in the world, I said; and if you are so disposed I will ask
and you shall answer.
Proceed.
Then
I will repeat the question which I asked before, in order that our
examination of the relative nature of justice and injustice may be carried on regularly. A statement was made that injustice is
stronger and more powerful than justice, but now justice,
having been identified with wisdom and virtue, is easily shown
to be stronger than injustice, if injustice is ignorance; this
can no longer be questioned by any one. But I want to view the
matter, Thrasymachus, in a different way: You would not deny that a
state may be unjust and may be unjustly attempting to enslave other states, or may have already enslaved them, and may be holding many of
them in subjection?
True, he replied; and I will add the best and perfectly unjust state
will be most likely to do so.
I know, I said, that such was your position; but what I would further consider is, whether this power which is possessed by the
superior state can exist or be exercised without justice.
If you are right in you view, and justice is wisdom, then only with
justice; but if I am right, then without justice.
I am delighted, Thrasymachus, to see you not only nodding assent and
dissent, but making answers which are quite excellent.
That is out of civility to you, he replied.
You
are very kind, I said; and would you have the goodness also to inform
me, whether you think that a state, or an army, or a band of robbers and thieves, or any other gang of evil-doers could act at all if
they injured one another?
No indeed, he said, they could not.
But
if they abstained from injuring one another, then they might act together
better?
Yes.
And
this is because injustice creates divisions and hatreds and fighting, and justice imparts harmony and friendship; is not that true, Thrasymachus?
I agree, he said, because I do not wish to quarrel with you.
How
good of you, I said; but I should like to know also whether injustice, having this tendency to arouse hatred, wherever existing, among
slaves or among freemen, will not make them hate one another
and set them at variance and render them incapable of common
action?
Certainly.
And
even if injustice be found in two only, will they not quarrel and fight,
and become enemies to one another and to the just
They will.
And
suppose injustice abiding in a single person, would your wisdom say
that she loses or that she retains her natural power?
Let us assume that she retains her power.
Yet
is not the power which injustice exercises of such a nature that wherever
she takes up her abode, whether in a city, in an army, in a family, or in any other body, that body is, to begin with, rendered
incapable of united action by reason of sedition and
distraction; and does it not become its own enemy and at
variance with all that opposes it, and with the just? Is not
this the case?
Yes, certainly.
And
is not injustice equally fatal when existing in a single person; in
the first place rendering him incapable of action because he is not at unity with himself, and in the second place making him an
enemy to himself and the just? Is not that true, Thrasymachus?
Yes.
And
O my friend, I said, surely the gods are just?
But
if so, the unjust will be the enemy of the gods, and the just will be their friend?
Feast away in triumph, and take your fill of the argument; I will not
oppose you, lest I should displease the company.
Well then, proceed with your answers, and let me have the remainder of my repast. For we have already shown that the just are clearly
wiser and better and abler than the unjust, and that the
unjust are incapable of common action; nay ing at more, that
to speak as we did of men who are evil acting at any time
vigorously together, is not strictly true, for if they had
been perfectly evil, they would have laid hands upon one another; but
it is evident that there must have been some remnant of justice in them, which enabled them to combine; if there had not been they
would have injured one another as well as their victims; they
were but half --villains in their enterprises; for had they
been whole villains, and utterly unjust, they would have been
utterly incapable of action. That, as I believe, is the truth
of the matter, and not what you said at first. But whether the just
have a better and happier life than the unjust is a further question which we also proposed to consider. I think that they have, and
for the reasons which to have given; but still I should like
to examine further, for no light matter is at stake, nothing
less than the rule of human life.
Proceed.
I
will proceed by asking a question: Would you not say that a horse has
some end?
I should.
And
the end or use of a horse or of anything would be that which could not be accomplished, or not so well accomplished, by any other thing?
I do not understand, he said.
Let
me explain: Can you see, except with the eye?
These
then may be truly said to be the ends of these organs?
But
you can cut off a vine-branch with a dagger or with a chisel, and in
many other ways?
Of course.
And
yet not so well as with a pruning-hook made for the purpose?
May
we not say that this is the end of a pruning-hook?
Then
now I think you will have no difficulty in understanding my meaning when I asked the question whether the end of anything would be
that which could not be accomplished, or not so well
accomplished, by any other thing?
I understand your meaning, he said, and assent.
And
that to which an end is appointed has also an excellence? Need I
ask again whether the eye has an end?
It has.
And
has not the eye an excellence?
And
the ear has an end and an excellence also?
And
the same is true of all other things; they have each of them an end
and a special excellence?
That is so.
Well,
and can the eyes fulfil their end if they are wanting in their own
proper excellence and have a defect instead?
How can they, he said, if they are blind and cannot see?
You
mean to say, if they have lost their proper excellence, which is sight;
but I have not arrived at that point yet. I would rather ask the question
more generally, and only enquire whether the things which fulfil their
ends fulfil them by their own proper excellence, and fall of fulfilling them by their own defect?
Certainly, he replied.
I
might say the same of the ears; when deprived of their own proper excellence
they cannot fulfil their end?
True.
And
the same observation will apply to all other things?
Well;
and has not the soul an end which nothing else can fulfil? for example,
to superintend and command and deliberate and the like. Are not these
functions proper to the soul, and can they rightly be assigned to any
other?
To no other.
And
is not life to be reckoned among the ends of the soul?
And
has not the soul an excellence also?
And
can she or can she not fulfil her own ends when deprived of that excellence?
She cannot.
Then
an evil soul must necessarily be an evil ruler and superintendent, and the good soul a good ruler?
Yes, necessarily.
And
we have admitted that justice is the excellence of the soul, and injustice
the defect of the soul?
That has been admitted.
Then
the just soul and the just man will live well, and the unjust man
will live ill?
That is what your argument proves.
And
he who lives well is blessed and happy, and he who lives ill the reverse
of happy?
Certainly.
Then
the just is happy, and the unjust miserable?
But
happiness and not misery is profitable.
Then,
my blessed Thrasymachus, injustice can never be more profitable than
justice.
Let this, Socrates, he said, be your entertainment at the Bendidea.
For
which I am indebted to you, I said, now that you have grown gentle towards me and have left off scolding. Nevertheless, I have not
been well entertained; but that was my own fault and not
yours. As an epicure snatches a taste of every dish which is
successively brought to table, he not having allowed himself
time to enjoy the one before, so have I gone from one subject to
another without having discovered what I sought at first, the nature of justice. I left that enquiry and turned away to consider
whether justice is virtue and wisdom or evil and folly; and
when there arose a further question about the comparative
advantages of justice and injustice, I could not refrain from
passing on to that. And the result of the whole discussion has
been that I know nothing at all. For I know not what justice is, and therefore I am not likely to know whether it is or is not a
virtue, nor can I say whether the just man is happy or unhappy.
1Translated by Benjamin
Jowett; text adapted from The Internet Classics Archive (http://classics.mit.edu/Plato/republic.html).