POLUS: No, I don’t think so, not on this reasoning, anyhow.
SOCRATES: I was right, then, when I said that neither you nor I nor any other person would take doing what’s unjust over suffering it, for it really is something worse.
POLUS: So it appears.
SOCRATES: So you see, Polus, that when the one refutation is compared with the other, there is no resemblance at all. Whereas everyone but me [476] agrees with you, you are all I need, although you’re just a party of one, for your agreement and testimony. It’s you alone whom I call on for a vote; the others I disregard. Let this be our verdict on this matter, then. Let’s next consider the second point in dispute between us, that is whether a wrongdoer’s paying what is due is the worst thing there is, as you were supposing, or whether his not paying it is even worse, as I was.
Let’s look at it this way. Are you saying that paying what is due and being justly disciplined for wrongdoing are the same thing?
POLUS: Yes, I do.
[b] SOCRATES: Can you say, then, that all just things aren’t admirable, insofar as they are just? Think carefully and tell me.
POLUS: Yes, I think they are.
SOCRATES: Consider this point, too. If somebody acts upon something, there also has to be something that has something done to it by the one acting upon it?
POLUS: Yes, I think so.
SOCRATES: And that it has done to it what the thing acting upon it does, and in the sort of way the thing acting upon it does it? I mean, for example, that if somebody hits, there has to be something that’s being hit?
POLUS: There has to be.
SOCRATES: And if the hitter hits hard or quickly, the thing being hit is [c] hit that way, too?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: So the thing being hit gets acted upon in whatever way the hitting thing acts upon it?
POLUS: Yes, that’s right.
SOCRATES: So, too, if somebody performs surgical burning, then there has to be something that’s being burned?
POLUS: Of course.
SOCRATES: And if he burns severely or painfully, the thing that’s being burned is burned in whatever way the burning thing burns it?
POLUS: That’s right.
SOCRATES: Doesn’t the same account also hold if a person makes a surgical cut? For something is being cut.
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And if the cut is large or deep or painful, the thing being cut [d] is cut in whatever way the cutting thing cuts it?
POLUS: So it appears.
SOCRATES: Summing it up, see if you agree with what I was saying just now, that in all cases, in whatever way the thing acting upon something acts upon it, the thing acted upon is acted upon in just that way.
POLUS: Yes, I do agree.
SOCRATES: Taking this as agreed, is paying what is due a case of being acted upon or of acting upon something?
POLUS: It must be a case of being acted upon, Socrates.
SOCRATES: By someone who acts?
POLUS: Of course. By the one administering discipline.
SOCRATES: Now one who disciplines correctly disciplines justly?
[e] POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Thereby acting justly, or not?
POLUS: Yes, justly.
SOCRATES: So the one being disciplined is being acted upon justly when he pays what is due?
POLUS: Apparently.
SOCRATES: And it was agreed, I take it, that just things are admirable?
POLUS: That’s right.
SOCRATES: So one of these men does admirable things, and the other, the one being disciplined, has admirable things done to him.
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: If they’re admirable, then, aren’t they good? For they’re either [477] pleasant or beneficial.
POLUS: Necessarily so.
SOCRATES: Hence, the one paying what is due has good things being done to him?
POLUS: Evidently.
SOCRATES: Hence, he’s being benefited?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Is his benefit the one I take it to be? Does his soul undergo improvement if he’s justly disciplined?
POLUS: Yes, that’s likely.
SOCRATES: Hence, one who pays what is due gets rid of something bad in his soul?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Now, is the bad thing he gets rid of the most serious one? Consider it this way: in the matter of a person’s financial condition, do [b] you detect any bad thing other than poverty?
POLUS: No, just poverty.
SOCRATES: What about that of a person’s physical condition? Would you say that what is bad here consists of weakness, disease, ugliness, and the like?
POLUS: Yes, I would.
SOCRATES: Do you believe that there’s also some corrupt condition of the soul?
POLUS: Of course.
SOCRATES: And don’t you call this condition injustice, ignorance, cowardice, and the like?
POLUS: Yes, certainly.
SOCRATES: Of these three things, one’s finances, one’s body, and one’s [c] soul, you said there are three states of corruption, namely poverty, disease, and injustice?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Which of these states of corruption is the most shameful? Isn’t it injustice, and corruption of one’s soul in general?
POLUS: Very much so.
SOCRATES: And if it’s the most shameful, it’s also the worst?
POLUS: What do you mean, Socrates?
SOCRATES: I mean this: What we agreed on earlier implies that what’s most shameful is so always because it’s the source either of the greatest pain, or of harm, or of both.
POLUS: Very much so.
SOCRATES: And now we’ve agreed that injustice, and corruption of soul [d] as a whole, is the most shameful thing.
POLUS: So we have.
SOCRATES: So either it’s most painful and is most shameful because it surpasses the others in pain, or else in harm, or in both?
POLUS: Necessarily so.
SOCRATES: Now is being unjust, undisciplined, cowardly, and ignorant more painful than being poor or sick?
POLUS: No, I don’t think so, Socrates, given what we’ve said, anyhow.
SOCRATES: So the reason that corruption of one’s soul is the most shameful [e] of them all is that it surpasses the others by some monstrously great harm and astounding badness, since it doesn’t surpass them in pain, according to your reasoning.
POLUS: So it appears.
SOCRATES: But what is surpassing in greatest harm would, I take it, certainly be the worst thing there is.
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Injustice, then, lack of discipline and all other forms of corruption of soul are the worst thing there is.
POLUS: Apparently so.
SOCRATES: Now, what is the craft that gets rid of poverty? Isn’t it that of financial management?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: What’s the one that gets rid of disease? Isn’t it that of medicine?
[478] POLUS: Necessarily.
SOCRATES: What’s the one that gets rid of corruption and injustice? If you’re stuck, look at it this way: where and to whom do we take people who are physically sick?
POLUS: To doctors, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Where do we take people who behave unjustly and without discipline?
POLUS: To judges, you mean?
SOCRATES: Isn’t it so they’ll pay what’s due?
POLUS: Yes, I agree.
SOCRATES: Now don’t those who administer discipline correctly employ a kind of justice in doing so?
POLUS: That’s clear.
SOCRATES: It’s financial management, then, that gets rid of poverty, medicine that gets rid of disease, and justice that gets rid of injustice and indiscipline. [b]
POLUS: Apparently.
SOCRATES: Which of these, now, is the most admirable?
POLUS: Of which, do you mean?
SOCRATES: Of financial management, medicine, and justice.
POLUS: Ju
stice is by far, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Doesn’t it in that case provide either the most pleasure, or benefit, or both, if it really is the most admirable?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Now, is getting medical treatment something pleasant? Do people who get it enjoy getting it?
POLUS: No, I don’t think so.
SOCRATES: But it is beneficial, isn’t it?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Because they’re getting rid of something very bad, so that it’s [c] worth their while to endure the pain and so get well.
POLUS: Of course.
SOCRATES: Now, would a man be happiest, as far as his body goes, if he’s under treatment, or if he weren’t even sick to begin with?
POLUS: If he weren’t even sick, obviously.
SOCRATES: Because happiness evidently isn’t a matter of getting rid of something bad; it’s rather a matter of not even contracting it to begin with.
POLUS: That’s so.
SOCRATES: Very well. Of two people, each of whom has something bad [d] in either body or soul, which is the more miserable one, the one who is treated and gets rid of the bad thing or the one who doesn’t but keeps it?
POLUS: The one who isn’t treated, it seems to me.
SOCRATES: Now, wasn’t paying what’s due getting rid of the worst thing there is, corruption?
POLUS: It was.
SOCRATES: Yes, because such justice makes people self-controlled, I take it, and more just. It proves to be a treatment against corruption.
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: The happiest man, then, is the one who doesn’t have any badness in his soul, now that this has been shown to be the most serious kind of badness.
POLUS: That’s clear.
SOCRATES: And second, I suppose, is the man who gets rid of it. [e]
POLUS: Evidently.
SOCRATES: This is the man who gets lectured and lashed, the one who pays what is due.
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: The man who keeps it, then, and who doesn’t get rid of it, is the one whose life is the worst.
POLUS: Apparently.
SOCRATES: Isn’t this actually the man who, although he commits the most [479] serious crimes and uses methods that are most unjust, succeeds in avoiding being lectured and disciplined and paying his due, as Archelaus according to you, and the other tyrants, orators, and potentates have put themselves in a position to do?
POLUS: Evidently.
SOCRATES: Yes, my good man, I take it that these people have managed to accomplish pretty much the same thing as a person who has contracted very serious illnesses, but, by avoiding treatment manages to avoid paying what’s due to the doctors for his bodily faults, fearing, as would a child, [b] cauterization or surgery because they’re painful. Don’t you think so, too?
POLUS: Yes, I do.
SOCRATES: It’s because he evidently doesn’t know what health and bodily excellence are like. For on the basis of what we’re now agreed on, it looks as though those who avoid paying what is due also do the same sort of thing, Polus. They focus on its painfulness, but are blind to its benefit and are ignorant of how much more miserable it is to live with an unhealthy [c] soul than with an unhealthy body, a soul that’s rotten with injustice and impiety. This is also the reason they go to any length to avoid paying what is due and getting rid of the worst thing there is. They find themselves funds and friends, and ways to speak as persuasively as possible. Now if what we’re agreed on is true, Polus, are you aware of what things follow from our argument? Or would you like us to set them out?
POLUS: Yes, if you think we should anyhow.
SOCRATES: Does it follow that injustice, and doing what is unjust, is the worst thing there is?
[d] POLUS: Yes, apparently.
SOCRATES: And it has indeed been shown that paying what is due is what gets rid of this bad thing?
POLUS: So it seems.
SOCRATES: And that if it isn’t paid, the bad thing is retained?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: So, doing what’s unjust is the second worst thing. Not paying what’s due when one has done what’s unjust is by its nature the first worst thing, the very worst of all.
POLUS: Evidently.
SOCRATES: Now wasn’t this the point in dispute between us, my friend? [e] You considered Archelaus happy, a man who committed the gravest crimes without paying what was due, whereas I took the opposite view, that whoever avoids paying his due for his wrongdoing, whether he’s Archelaus or any other man, is and deserves to be miserable beyond all other men, and that one who does what’s unjust is always more miserable than the one who suffers it, and the one who avoids paying what’s due always more miserable than the one who does pay it. Weren’t these the things I said?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Hasn’t it been proved that what was said is true?
POLUS: Apparently.
SOCRATES: Fair enough. If these things are true then, Polus, what is the [480] great use of oratory? For on the basis of what we’re agreed on now, what a man should guard himself against most of all is doing what’s unjust, knowing that he will have trouble enough if he does. Isn’t that so?
POLUS: Yes, that’s right.
SOCRATES: And if he or anyone else he cares about acts unjustly, he should voluntarily go to the place where he’ll pay his due as soon as possible; he should go to the judge as though he were going to a doctor, [b] anxious that the disease of injustice shouldn’t be protracted and cause his soul to fester incurably. What else can we say, Polus, if our previous agreements really stand? Aren’t these statements necessarily consistent with our earlier ones in only this way?
POLUS: Well yes, Socrates. What else are we to say?
SOCRATES: So, if oratory is used to defend injustice, Polus, one’s own or that of one’s relatives, companions, or children, or that of one’s country when it acts unjustly, it is of no use to us at all, unless one takes it to be [c] useful for the opposite purpose: that he should accuse himself first and foremost, and then too his family and anyone else dear to him who happens to behave unjustly at any time; and that he should not keep his wrongdoing hidden but bring it out into the open, so that he may pay his due and get well; and compel himself and the others not to play the coward, but to grit his teeth and present himself with grace and courage as to a doctor for cauterization and surgery, pursuing what’s good and admirable without taking any account of the pain. And if his unjust behavior merits flogging, he should present himself to be whipped; if it merits imprisonment, to be [d] imprisoned; if a fine, to pay it; if exile, to be exiled; and if execution, to be executed. He should be his own chief accuser, and the accuser of other members of his family, and use his oratory for the purpose of getting rid of the worst thing there is, injustice, as the unjust acts are being exposed. Are we to affirm or deny this, Polus?
POLUS: I think these statements are absurd, Socrates, though no doubt [e] you think they agree with those expressed earlier.
SOCRATES: Then either we should abandon those, or else these necessarily follow?
POLUS: Yes, that’s how it is.
SOCRATES: And, on the other hand, to reverse the case, suppose a man had to harm someone, an enemy or anybody at all, provided that he didn’t suffer anything unjust from this enemy himself—for this is something to be on guard against—if the enemy did something unjust against another [481] person, then our man should see to it in every way, both in what he does and what he says, that his enemy does not go to the judge and pay his due. And if he does go, he should scheme to get his enemy off without paying what’s due. If he’s stolen a lot of gold, he should scheme to get him not to return it but to keep it and spend it in an unjust and godless way both on himself and his people. And if his crimes merit the death penalty, he should scheme to keep him from being executed, preferably never to die at all but to live forever in corruption, but failing that, to have [b] him live as long as possible in that condition. Yes, this is the sort of thing I t
hink oratory is useful for, Polus, since for the person who has no intention of behaving unjustly it doesn’t seem to me to have much use—if in fact it has any use at all—since its usefulness hasn’t in any way become apparent so far.
CALLICLES: Tell me, Chaerephon, is Socrates in earnest about this or is he joking?
CHAEREPHON: I think he’s in dead earnest about this, Callicles. There’s nothing like asking him, though.
CALLICLES: By the gods! Just the thing I’m eager to do. Tell me, Socrates, [c] are we to take you as being in earnest now, or joking? For if you are in earnest, and these things you’re saying are really true, won’t this human life of ours be turned upside down, and won’t everything we do evidently be the opposite of what we should do?
SOCRATES: Well, Callicles, if human beings didn’t share common experiences, some sharing one, others sharing another, but one of us had some [d] unique experience not shared by others, it wouldn’t be easy for him to communicate what he experienced to the other. I say this because I realize that you and I are both now actually sharing a common experience: each of the two of us is a lover of two objects, I of Alcibiades, Clinias’ son,10 and of philosophy, and you of the demos [people] of Athens, and the Demos who’s the son of Pyrilampes. I notice that in each case you’re unable to contradict your beloved, clever though you are, no matter what he says [e] or what he claims is so. You keep shifting back and forth. If you say anything in the Assembly and the Athenian demos denies it, you shift your ground and say what it wants to hear. Other things like this happen to you when you’re with that good-looking young man, the son of Pyrilampes. You’re unable to oppose what your beloveds say or propose, so that if somebody heard you say what you do on their account and was amazed at how absurd that is, you’d probably say—if you were minded to tell [482] him the truth—that unless somebody stops your beloveds from saying what they say, you’ll never stop saying these things either. In that case you must believe that you’re bound to hear me say things like that, too, and instead of being surprised at my saying them, you must stop my beloved, philosophy, from saying them. For she always says what you now hear me say, my dear friend, and she’s by far less fickle than my other beloved. As for that son of Clinias, what he says differs from one time to the next, but what philosophy says always stays the same, and she’s saying things that now astound you, although you were present [b] when they were said. So, either refute her and show that doing what’s unjust without paying what is due for it is not the ultimate of all bad things, as I just now was saying it is, or else, if you leave this unrefuted, then by the Dog, the god of the Egyptians, Callicles will not agree with you, Callicles, but will be dissonant with you all your life long. And yet for my part, my good man, I think it’s better to have my lyre or a chorus that I might lead out of tune and dissonant, and have the vast majority of men disagree with me and contradict me, than to be out of harmony [c] with myself, to contradict myself, though I’m only one person.
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