by Plato
(c) CRITO: Apparently not.
SOCRATES: Tell me another thing, Crito: ought one to inflict injuries or not?
CRITO: Surely not, Socrates.
SOCRATES: And tell me: is it right to inflict an injury in retaliation, as most people believe, or not?
CRITO: No, never.
SOCRATES: Because, I suppose, there is no difference between injuring people and doing them an injustice?22
CRITO: Exactly.
SOCRATES: So one ought not to return an injustice or an injury to any person, whatever the provocation. Now be careful, (d) Crito, that in making these single admissions you do not end by admitting something contrary to your real beliefs. I know that there are and always will be few people who think like this; and consequently between those who do think so and those who do not there can be no shared deliberation; they must always feel contempt when they observe one another’s decision.23 (e) I want even you to consider very carefully whether you share my views and agree with me, and whether we can proceed with our discussion from the established hypothesis that it is never right to commit injustice or return injustice or defend one’s self against injury by retaliation; or whether you dissociate yourself from any share in this view as a basis for discussion. I have held it for a long time, and still hold it;24 but if you have formed any other opinion, say so and tell me what it is. If, on the other hand, you stand by what we have said, listen to my next point.
CRITO: Yes, I stand by it and agree with you. Go on.
SOCRATES: Well, here is my next point, or rather question. Ought one to fulfil all one’s agreements, provided that they are just,25 or break them?
CRITO: One ought to fulfil them.
SOCRATES: Then consider the logical consequence. If we leave this place without first persuading the State to let us go, are 50(a) we or are we not doing an injury, and doing it to those we’ve least excuse for injuring? Are we or are we not abiding by our just agreements?
CRITO: I can’t answer your question, Socrates; I am not clear in my mind.
Socrates introduces the voice of the Laws of Athens, who persuade him that justice requires him to stay and face death. They claim that escaping would be unjust because (i) it would constitute a step towards their own destruction, and (ii) there is an agreement between him and the Laws, akin to that between a son and his parents and of even greater weight, requiring filial obedience on his part in return for the upbringing they have given him.Such obedience is demanded irrespective of the inconvenience and dangers which he may face. He may try to persuade them of the justice of his case, but if he fails it is his duty to obey. To what extent arguments (i) and (ii) are separable is a matter of controversy. David Bostock in ‘The Interpretation of Plato’s Crito’, Phronesis 35 (1990; pp. 1–20) takes the view that they are, and whereas he sees little authoritarianism in (i), because only one law clearly overrides individual freedoms, namely the law requiring court verdicts to be carried out, he sees little hope of rescuing Plato from charges of general authoritarianism in relation to (ii). As R. E. Allen notes in Socrates and Legal Obligation (Minneapolis, 1980; p. 82), the Laws’ language is that of a speech, which though at times majestic and authoritative, is nevertheless tempered with an intimacy and concern for their ‘child’.
SOCRATES: Look at it in this way. Suppose that while we were preparing to run away from here (or however one should describe it) the Laws and communal interest of Athens were to come and confront us with this question: ‘Now, Socrates, what are you proposing to do? Can you deny that by this act (b) which you are contemplating you intend, so far as you have the power, to destroy us, the Laws, and the whole State as well?26 Do you imagine that a city can continue to exist and not be turned upside down, if the legal judgements which are pronounced in it have no force but are nullified and destroyed by private persons?’ – How shall we answer this question, Crito, and others of the same kind? There is much that could be said, especially by an orator, to protest at the abolition of this law which requires that judgements once pronounced (c) shall be binding. Shall we say, ‘Yes: the State is guilty of an injustice against me, you see, by passing a faulty judgement at my trial’?27 Is this to be our answer, or what?
CRITO: What you have said, certainly, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Then what if the Laws say, ‘Was there provision for this in the agreement between you and us, Socrates? Or did you undertake to abide by whatever judgements the State pronounced?’ If we expressed surprise at such language, they would probably say: ‘Don’t be surprised at what we say, Socrates, but answer our questions; after all, you are (d) accustomed to the method of question and answer. Come now, what charge do you bring against us and the State, that you are trying to destroy us? Did we not give you life in the first place?28 Was it not through us that your father married your mother and brought you into this world? Tell us, have you any complaint against those of us Laws that deal with marriage?’29 ‘No, none,’ I should say. ‘Well, have you any against the Laws which deal with children’s upbringing and education, such as you had yourself? Are you not grateful to those of us Laws which were put in control of this, for requiring your father to give you an education in music and gymnastics?’30 (e) ‘Yes’, I should say. ‘Very good. Then since you have been born and brought up and educated, can you deny, in the first place, that you were our child and slave, both you and your ancestors? And if this is so, do you imagine that your rights and ours are on a par, and that whatever we try to do to you, you are justified in retaliating? Though you did not have equality of rights with your father, or master if you had one, to enable you to retaliate, and you were not allowed to answer back 51(a) when you were scolded nor to hit back when you were beaten, nor to do a great many other things of the same kind, will you be permitted to do it to your country and its Laws, so that if we try to put you to death in the belief that it is just to do so, you on your part will try your hardest to destroy your country and us its Laws in return? And will you, the true devotee of goodness, claim that you are justified in doing so? Are you so wise as to have forgotten that compared with your mother and father and all the rest of your ancestors your country is something far more precious, more venerable, more (b) sacred, and held in greater honour both among gods and among all reasonable men? Do you not realize that you are even more bound to respect and placate the anger of your country than your father’s anger? That you must either persuade your country or do whatever it orders, and patiently submit to any punishment that it imposes, whether it be flogging or imprisonment? And if it leads you out to war, to be wounded or killed, you must comply, and it is just that this should be so – you must not give way or retreat or abandon your position. Both in war and in the lawcourts and everywhere else you must do whatever your city and your (c) country commands, or else persuade it that justice is on your side; but violence against mother or father is an unholy act,31 and it is a far greater sin against your country.’ – What shall we say to this, Crito? That what the Laws say is true, or not?
CRITO: Yes, I think so.
The Laws go on to explain that Socrates has freely validated their agreement with him by remaining in the city – and doing so more consistently than other individuals.
SOCRATES: ‘Consider, then, Socrates,’ the Laws would probably continue, ‘whether it is also true for us to claim that what you are now trying to do to us is not just. Although we have brought you into the world and reared you and educated you, and given you and all your fellow-citizens a share in all (d) the good things at our disposal, nevertheless by the very fact of granting our permission we openly proclaim this principle: that any Athenian, on attaining to manhood32 and seeing for himself the political organization of the State and us its Laws, is permitted, if he is not satisfied with us, to take his property and go away wherever he likes.33 (e)If any one of you chooses to go to one of our colonies, supposing that he should not be satisfied with us and the State, or to emigrate to any other country, not one of us Laws hinders or prevents him from going aw
ay wherever he likes, without any loss of property. On the other hand, if any one of you stands his ground when he can see how we administer justice and the rest of our public organization, we hold that by so doing he has in fact undertaken to do anything that we tell him; and we maintain that anyone who disobeys is guilty of doing wrong on three separate counts: first because we brought him into this world, and secondly because we reared him; and thirdly because, after promising obedience, he is neither obeying us nor 52(a) persuading us to change our decision if we are at fault in any way; and although we set a choice before him and do not issue savage commands, giving him the choice of either persuading us or doing what we say,34 he is actually doing neither. These are the charges, Socrates, to which we say that you too will be liable if you do what you are contemplating; and you’ll not be the least culpable of the Athenians, but one of the most guilty.’ If I said, ‘Why do you say that?’ they would no doubt pounce upon me with perfect justice and point out that there are very few people in Athens who have entered (b) into this agreement with them as explicitly as I have. They would say, ‘Socrates, we have substantial evidence that you are satisfied with us and with the State. Compared with all other Athenians, you would not have been so exceptionally much in residence if it had not been exceptionally pleasing to you. You have never left the city to attend a festival – except once to the Isthmus35 – nor for any other purpose except on some military expedition;36 you have never travelled abroad as other people do, and you have never felt the impulse to acquaint yourself with another country or other laws; you (c) have been content with us and with our city. So deliberately have you chosen us, and undertaken to observe us in all your activities as a citizen, that you have actually fathered children in it because the city suits you.37 Furthermore, even at the time of your trial you could have proposed the penalty of banishment, if you had chosen to do so; that is, you could have done then with the sanction of the State what you are now trying to do without it.38 But whereas at that time you made a fine show of your indifference if you had to die, and in fact preferred death, as you said, to banishment, now you show no respect for your earlier professions, and no regard for us, the Laws, whom you are trying to destroy; you are (d) behaving like the lowest slave, trying to run away in spite of the contracts and undertakings by which you agreed to act as a member of our State. Now first answer this question: Are we or are we not speaking the truth when we say that you have undertaken, in deed and not in word,39 to play the role of citizen in obedience to us?’ What are we to say to that, Crito? Are we not bound to admit it?
CRITO: We must, Socrates.
(e) SOCRATES: ‘It is a fact, then,’ they would say, ‘that you are breaking covenants and undertakings made with us, although you made them under no compulsion or misunderstanding, and were not compelled to decide in a limited time;40 you had seventy years41 in which you could have left the country, if you were not satisfied with us or felt that the agreements were unjust. You did not choose Sparta or Crete – your favourite models of good government42 – or any other Greek or foreign 53(a) state; you could not have absented yourself from the city less if you had been lame or blind or decrepit in some other way. It is quite obvious that you outstrip all other Athenians in your satisfaction with this city – and for us its Laws, for who could be pleased with a city without its laws? And now, after all this, are you not going to stand by your agreement? Yes, you are, Socrates, if you will take our advice; and then you will at least escape being laughed at for leaving the city.
Socrates will achieve nothing by escaping: the stigma of a lawbreaker will attach to him wherever he goes, it will make a mockery of his past moral views, and it will not help his sons. It will also put him in a difficult position when he faces the judges of the Underworld.
‘Just consider, what good will you do yourself or your friends if you breach this agreement and fall short in one of (b) these requirements. It is fairly obvious that the risk of being banished and either losing their citizenship or having their property confiscated will extend to your friends as well. As for yourself, if you go to one of the neighbouring states, such as Thebes or Megara which are both well governed, you will enter them as an enemy to their constitution, and all good patriots will eye you with suspicion as a destroyer of laws. You will confirm the opinion of the jurors, so that they’ll seem to have given a correct verdict – for any destroyer of (c) laws might very well be supposed to have a destructive influence upon young and foolish human beings.43 Do you intend, then, to avoid well-governed states and the most disciplined people? And if you do, will life be worth living? Or will you approach these people and have the impudence to converse with them? What subjects will you discuss, Socrates? The same as here, when you said that goodness and justice, institutions and laws, are the most precious possessions of (d) mankind? Do you not think that Socrates and everything about him will appear in a disreputable light? You certainly ought to think so. But perhaps you will retire from this part of the world and go to Crito’s friends in Thessaly? There you’ll find disorder and indiscipline,44 and no doubt they would enjoy hearing the amusing story of how you managed to run away from prison by arraying yourself in some costume – putting on a shepherd’s smock or some other conventional runaway’s disguise, and altering your personal appearance. (e) And will no one comment on the fact that an old man of your age, probably with only a short time left to live, should dare to cling so greedily to life, at the price of violating the most stringent laws? Perhaps not, if you avoid irritating anyone. Otherwise, Socrates, you’ll be the object of a good many humiliating comments. So you will live as the toady and slave of all the populace, literally ‘roistering in Thessaly’,45 as though you had left this country for Thessaly to attend a banquet there; and where will your discussions about justice and other good 54(a) qualities be then, we should like to know?
‘But of course you want to live for your children’s sake, so that you may be able to bring them up and educate them. Indeed! by first taking them off to Thessaly and making foreigners of them, so that they’ll have that to enjoy too? Or if that is not your intention, supposing that they are brought up here, will they be better cared for and educated because of your being alive, even without46 you there? Yes, your friends will take care of them. But will they look after your children if you go away to Thessaly, and not if you go off to the next world? Surely if those who profess to be your friends are (b) worth anything, you must believe that they would care for them.
‘No, Socrates; be advised by us who raised you – do not think more of your children or of your life or of anything else than you think of what is just; so that when you enter the next world you may have all this to plead in your defence before the authorities there.47 Neither in this world does doing this appear to be any better, or more just, or more holy – not to you nor to any of your family – nor will it be better for you when you reach the next world. As it is, you will leave this place, when you do, as the victim of a wrong done not by us, (c) the Laws, but by your fellow-men.48 But if you leave in that dishonourable way, returning injustice for injustice and injury for injury,49 breaking your agreements and covenants with us, and injuring those whom you least ought to injure – yourself, your friends, your country, and us – then you will have to face our anger while you live, and in that place beyond when our brothers, the Laws of Hades, know that you have done your best to destroy even us, they will not receive (d) you with a kindly welcome. Do not take Crito’s advice in preference to ours.’
That, my dear friend Crito, I do assure you, is what I seem to hear them saying, just as a mystic seems to hear the strains of pipes;50 and the sound of their arguments rings so loudly in my head that I cannot hear the other side. I warn you that, as my opinion stands at present, it will be useless to urge a different view. However, if you think that you will do any good by it, speak up.
CRITO: No, Socrates, I have nothing to say.
(e) SOCRATES: Then give it up, Crito, and let us follow this course, since G
od leads the way.
Phaedo – Wisdom and the Soul
Socrates about to Die
Introduction
RELEASE
The Phaedo, being a mature work of Plato, is also considerably larger than the three works so far encountered, yet it is tied together by an unusual unity of subject-matter. The obvious way to view the work is as Plato’s attempt to persuade us that the soul is immortal, using four distinct arguments, dealing with two objections, and fusing his own ideas with various traditional elements to produce an attractive myth near the end. A final reason for believing that the soul is immortal is the amazingly optimistic attitude of a seemingly inspired man as he prepares to die.
There are dangers, however, in seeing the work purely as an attempted proof of this one Platonic belief. To those readers who do not share Plato’s concepts of soul and of its desired objects of knowledge, concepts upon which the arguments are founded, the whole work might in that case be found irritating and pointless, a logical exercise based on unacceptable premises. Yet if they are able to enter fully into its compelling drama – if they can be induced to puzzle over the attitudes of its amazing tragic hero as he moves ever nearer to the inevitable end of his earthly sojourn – then they may be able to bridge the gulf between our world and Plato’s and to see how pressing the various issues had become.
This work is addressed to Plato’s fellow-philosophers rather than to the ordinary people of Athens. The story is told to a puzzled Pythagorean in a Peloponnesian town; most of the arguments within that story are addressed to the Pythagoreans Simmias and Cebes from Thebes. These are people who very much want Socrates to be correct, yet are honest enough to express their fears that he may not be. They are not worldly men, and are themselves devoted to the pursuits of the mind rather than to those of the body. They, if anyone, can understand the way Socrates’ mind worked; they, if anyone, can share in the strange mixture of pleasure and grief which was felt by his friends on the day of his death, and the release from such conflicts of emotion which philosophy (and its consummation in death) could bring.