“Would you say, Protagoras, that some people live well and others [b] live badly?”
“Yes.”
“But does it seem to you that a person lives well, if he lives distressed and in pain?”
“No, indeed.”
“Now, if he completed his life, having lived pleasantly, does he not seem to you to have lived well?”
“It seems that way to me.”
“So, then, to live pleasantly is good, and unpleasantly, bad?” [c]
“Yes, so long as he lived having taken pleasure in honorable things.”
“What, Protagoras? Surely you don’t, like most people, call some pleasant things bad and some painful things good? I mean, isn’t a pleasant thing good just insofar as it is pleasant, that is, if it results in nothing other than pleasure; and, on the other hand, aren’t painful things bad in the same way, just insofar as they are painful?”
“I don’t know, Socrates, if I should answer as simply as you put the [d] question—that everything pleasant is good and everything painful is bad. It seems to me to be safer to respond not merely with my present answer in mind but from the point of view of my life overall, that on the one hand, there are pleasurable things which are not good, and on the other hand, there are painful things which are not bad but some which are, and a third class which is neutral—neither bad nor good.”
“You call pleasant things those which partake of pleasure or produce [e] pleasure?”
“Certainly.”
“So my question is this: Just insofar as things are pleasurable are they good? I am asking whether pleasure itself is not a good.”
“Just as you always say, Socrates, let us inquire into this matter, and if your claim seems reasonable and it is established that pleasure and the good are the same, then we will come to agreement; otherwise we will disagree.”
“Do you wish to lead this inquiry, or shall I?”
“It is fitting for you to lead, for it is you who brought up the idea.”
“All right, will this help to make it clear? When someone evaluates a [352] man‘s health or other functions of the body through his appearance, he looks at the face and extremities, and might say: ‘Show me your chest and back too, so that I can make a better examination.’ That’s the kind of investigation I want to make. Having seen how you stand on the good and the pleasant, I need to say something like this to you: Come now, [b] Protagoras, and reveal this about your mind: What do you think about knowledge? Do you go along with the majority or not? Most people think this way about it, that it is not a powerful thing, neither a leader nor a ruler. They do not think of it in that way at all; but rather in this way: while knowledge is often present in a man, what rules him is not knowledge but rather anything else—sometimes anger, sometimes pleasure, sometimes [c] pain, at other times love, often fear; they think of his knowledge as being utterly dragged around by all these other things as if it were a slave. Now, does the matter seem like that to you, or does it seem to you that knowledge is a fine thing capable of ruling a person, and if someone were to know what is good and bad, then he would not be forced by anything to act otherwise than knowledge dictates, and intelligence would be sufficient to save a person?”
“Not only does it seem just as you say, Socrates, but further, it would [d] be shameful indeed for me above all people to say that wisdom and knowledge are anything but the most powerful forces in human activity.”
“Right you are. You realize that most people aren’t going to be convinced by us. They maintain that most people are unwilling to do what is best, even though they know what it is and are able to do it. And when I have asked them the reason for this, they say that those who act that way do [e] so because they are overcome by pleasure or pain or are being ruled by one of the things I referred to just now.”
“I think people say a lot of other things erroneously too, Socrates.”
[353] “Come with me, then, and let’s try to persuade people and to teach them what is this experience which they call being overcome by pleasure, because of which they fail to do the best thing when they know what it is. For perhaps if we told them that what they were saying isn’t true, but is demonstrably false, they would ask us: ‘Protagoras and Socrates, if this is not the experience of being overcome by pleasure, but something other than that, what do you two say it is? Tell us.’ ”
“Socrates, why is it necessary for us to investigate the opinion of ordinary people, who will say whatever occurs to them?”
[b] “I think this will help us find out about courage, how it is related to the other parts of virtue. If you are willing to go along with what we agreed just now, that I will lead us toward what I think will turn out to be the best way to make things clear, then fine; if you are not willing, I will give it up.”
“No, you are right; proceed as you have begun.”
[c] “Going back, then; if they should ask us: ‘We have been speaking of “being overcome by pleasure.” What do you say this is?’ I would reply to them this way: ‘Listen. Protagoras and I will try to explain it to you. Do you hold, gentlemen, that this happens to you in circumstances like these—you are often overcome by pleasant things like food or drink or sex, and you do those things all the while knowing they are ruinous?’ They would say yes. Then you and I would ask them again: ‘In what sense do you call these things ruinous? Is it that each of them is pleasant in itself [d] and produces immediate pleasure, or is it that later they bring about diseases and poverty and many other things of that sort? Or even if it doesn’t bring about these things later, but gives only enjoyment, would it still be a bad thing, just because it gives enjoyment in whatever way?’ Can we suppose then, Protagoras, that they would make any other answer than that bad things are bad not because they bring about immediate pleasure, but rather because of what happens later, disease and things like that?”
“I think that is how most people would answer.” [e]
“ ‘And in bringing about diseases and poverty, do they bring about pain?’ I think they would agree.”
“Yes.”
“ ‘Does it not seem to you, my good people, as Protagoras and I maintain, that these things are bad on account of nothing other than the fact that [354] they result in pain and deprive us of other pleasures?’ Would they agree?”
Protagoras concurred.
“Then again, suppose we were to ask them the opposite question: ‘You who say that some painful things are good, do you not say that such things as athletics and military training and treatments by doctors such as cautery, surgery, medicines, and starvation diet are good things even though painful?’ Would they say so?”
“Yes.”
“ ‘Would you call these things good for the reason that they bring about [b] intense pain and suffering, or because they ultimately bring about health and good condition of bodies and preservation of cities and power over others and wealth?’ Would they agree?”
“Yes.”
“ ‘These things are good only because they result in pleasure and in the relief and avoidance of pain? Or do you have some other criterion in view, other than pleasure and pain, on the basis of which you would call these things good?’ They say no, I think.” [c]
“And I would agree with you.”
“ ‘So then you pursue pleasure as being good and avoid pain as bad?’ ”
“Yes.”
“ ‘So this you regard as bad, pain, and pleasure, you regard as good, since you call the very enjoying of something bad whenever it deprives us of greater pleasures than it itself provides, or brings about greater pains [d] than the very pleasures inherent in it? But if you call the very enjoying of something bad for some other reason and with some other criterion in view than the one I have suggested, you could tell us what it is; but you won’t be able to.’ ”
“I don’t think they’ll be able to either.”
“ ‘And likewise concerning the actual state of being in pain? Do you call the actual condition of being in pain good, whenever it
relieves pains [e] greater than the ones it contains or brings about greater pleasures than its attendant pains? Now, if you are using some other criterion than the one I have suggested, when you call the very condition of being pained good, you can tell us what it is; but you won’t be able to.’ ”
“Truly spoken.”
“Now, again, gentlemen, if you asked me: ‘Why are you going on so much about this and in so much detail?’ I would reply, forgive me. First of all, it is not easy to show what it is that you call ‘being overcome by [355] pleasure,’ and then, it is upon this very point that all the arguments rest. But even now it is still possible to withdraw, if you are able to say that the good is anything other than pleasure or that the bad is anything other than pain. Or is it enough for you to live life pleasantly without pain? If it is enough, and you are not able to say anything else than that the good and the bad are that which result in pleasure and pain, listen to this. For I say to you that if this is so, your position will become absurd, when you [b] say that frequently a man, knowing the bad to be bad, nevertheless does that very thing, when he is able not to do it, having been driven and overwhelmed by pleasure; and again when you say that a man knowing the good is not willing to do it, on account of immediate pleasure, having been overcome by it. Just how absurd this is will become very clear, if we do not use so many names at the same time, ‘pleasant’ and ‘painful,’ ‘good’ and ‘bad’; but since these turned out to be only two things, let us instead [c] call them by two names, first, ‘good’ and ‘bad,’ then later, ‘pleasant’ and ‘painful.’ On that basis, then, let us say that a man knowing bad things to be bad, does them all the same. If then someone asks us: ‘Why?’ ‘Having been overcome,’ we shall reply. ‘By what?’ he will ask us. We are no longer able to say ‘by pleasure,’—for it has taken on its other name, ‘the good’ instead of ‘pleasure’—so we will say and reply that ‘he is overcome …’ ‘By what?’ he will ask. ‘By the good,’ we will say, ‘for heaven’s sake!’ If [d] by chance the questioner is rude he might burst out laughing and say: ‘What you’re saying is ridiculous—someone does what is bad, knowing that it is bad, when it is not necessary to do it, having been overcome by the good. So,’ he will say, ‘within yourself, does the good outweigh the bad or not?’ We will clearly say in reply that it does not; for if it did, the person who we say is overcome by pleasure would not have made any mistake. ‘In virtue of what,’ he might say, ‘does the good outweigh the bad [e] or the bad the good? Only in that one is greater and one is smaller, or more and less.’ We could not help but agree. ‘So clearly then’ he will say, ‘by “being overcome” you mean getting more bad things for the sake of fewer good things.’19 That settles that, then.
“So let’s now go back and apply the names ‘the pleasant’ and ‘the painful’ to these very same things. Now let us say that a man does what before we called ‘bad’ things and now shall call ‘painful’ ones, knowing they are painful [356] things, but being overcome by pleasant things, although it is clear that they do not outweigh them. But how else does pleasure outweigh pain, except in relative excess or deficiency? Isn’t it a matter (to use other terms) of larger and smaller, more or fewer, greater or lesser degree?
“For if someone were to say: ‘But Socrates, the immediate pleasure is very much different from the pleasant and the painful at a later time,’ I would reply, ‘They are not different in any other way than by pleasure [b] and pain, for there is no other way that they could differ. Weighing is a good analogy; you put the pleasures together and the pains together, both the near and the remote, on the balance scale, and then say which of the two is more. For if you weigh pleasant things against pleasant, the greater and the more must always be taken; if painful things against painful, the fewer and the smaller. And if you weigh pleasant things against painful, and the painful is exceeded by the pleasant—whether the near by the remote or the remote by the near—you have to perform that action in which the pleasant prevails; on the other hand, if the pleasant is exceeded [c] by the painful, you have to refrain from doing that. Does it seem any different to you, my friends?’ I know that they would not say otherwise.”
Protagoras assented.
“Since this is so, I will say to them: ‘Answer me this: Do things of the same size appear to you larger when seen near at hand and smaller when seen from a distance, or not?’ They would say they do. ‘And similarly for thicknesses and pluralities? And equal sounds seem louder when near at hand, softer when farther away?’ They would agree. ‘If then our well-being [d] depended upon this, doing and choosing large things, avoiding and not doing the small ones, what would we see as our salvation in life? Would it be the art of measurement or the power of appearance? While the power of appearance often makes us wander all over the place in confusion, often changing our minds about the same things and regretting our actions and choices with respect to things large and small, the art of measurement in contrast, would make the appearances lose their power [e] by showing us the truth, would give us peace of mind firmly rooted in the truth and would save our life.’ Therefore, would these men agree, with this in mind, that the art of measurement would save us, or some other art?”
“I agree, the art of measurement would.”
“What if our salvation in life depended on our choices of odd and even, when the greater and the lesser had to be counted correctly, either the same kind against itself or one kind against the other, whether it be near or remote? [357] What then would save our life? Surely nothing other than knowledge, specifically some kind of measurement, since that is the art of the greater and the lesser? In fact, nothing other than arithmetic, since it’s a question of the odd and even? Would these men agree with us or not?”
Protagoras thought they would agree.
“Well, then, my good people: Since it has turned out that our salvation [b] in life depends on the right choice of pleasures and pains, be they more or fewer, greater or lesser, farther or nearer, doesn’t our salvation seem, first of all, to be measurement, which is the study of relative excess and deficiency and equality?”
“It must be.”
“And since it is measurement, it must definitely be an art, and knowledge.”
“They will agree.”
“What exactly this art, this knowledge is, we can inquire into later; that it is knowledge of some sort is enough for the demonstration which [c] Protagoras and I have to give in order to answer the question you asked us. You asked it, if you remember, when we were agreeing that nothing was stronger or better than knowledge, which always prevails, whenever it is present, over pleasure and everything else. At that point you said that pleasure often rules even the man who knows; since we disagreed, you went on to ask us this: ‘Protagoras and Socrates, if this experience is not [d] being overcome by pleasure, what is it then; what do you say it is? Tell us.’ If immediately we had said to you ‘ignorance,’ you might have laughed at us, but if you laugh at us now, you will be laughing at yourselves. For you agreed with us that those who make mistakes with regard to the choice of pleasure and pain, in other words, with regard to good and bad, do so because of a lack of knowledge, and not merely a lack of knowledge [e] but a lack of that knowledge you agreed was measurement. And the mistaken act done without knowledge you must know is one done from ignorance. So this is what “being overcome by pleasure” is—ignorance in the highest degree, and it is this which Protagoras and Prodicus and Hippias claim to cure. But you, thinking it to be something other than ignorance, do not go to sophists yourselves, nor do you send your children to them for instruction, believing as you do that we are dealing with something unteachable. By worrying about your money and not giving it to them, you all do badly in both private and public life.’
[358] “This is how we would have answered the many. Now, I ask you, Hippias and Prodicus, as well as Protagoras—this is your conversation also—to say whether you think what I say is true or false.” They all thought that what I said was marvelously true.
“So you agree that the pleasant is good, the painful bad. I beg indulgence of Prodicus who distinguishes among words; for whether you call it ‘pleasant’ [b] or ‘delightful’ or ‘enjoyable,’ or whatever way or manner you please to name this sort of thing, my excellent Prodicus, please respond to the intent of my question.” Prodicus, laughing, agreed, as did the others.
“Well, then, men, what about this? Are not all actions leading toward living painlessly and pleasantly honorable and beneficial? And isn’t honorable activity good and beneficial?”
They agreed.
“Then if the pleasant is the good, no one who knows or believes there [c] is something else better than what he is doing, something possible, will go on doing what he had been doing when he could be doing what is better. To give in to oneself is nothing other than ignorance, and to control oneself is nothing other than wisdom.”
Complete Works Page 121