"Either philosophers become kings in our cities, or the people who are now called kings and rulers become real, true philosophers" | Plato's Republic, Book VI

Today, we continue our read-along of Plato’s Republic, the latest installment in our philosophical read-alongs. Here’s the schedule:

• March 31: Book I

• April 7: Book II

• April 14: Book III

• April 21: Reading Week

• April 28: Book IV

• May 5: Book V

• May 8: Members-Only Zoom Call, 3PM Eastern

• May 12: Book VI

• May 18: Members-Only Zoom Call, 8PM Eastern

• May 19: Book VII

• May 26: Reading Week

• June 2: Book VIII

• June 9: Book IX

• June 16: Book X

• June 22: Members-Only Zoom Call, 8PM Eastern

All main posts are free, but Zoom calls and supplementary posts are available only to paid subscribers. If you’d like to join those calls or read everything that I write, please consider supporting my work.

Near the end of Book V of Plato’s Republic, Socrates states his belief that philosophers should rule the city:

There is no end to suffering, Glaucon, for our cities, and non, I suspect, for the human race, unless either philosophers become kings in our cities, or the people who are now called kings and rulers become real, true philosophers—unless there is this amalgamation of political power and philosophy, with all those people whose inclination is to pursue one or other exclusively being forcibly prevented from doing so. Otherwise there is not the remotest chance of the political arrangements we have described coming about – to the extent that they can – or seeing the light of day. (473c-e)

Thus, at the end of this book, Plato has given us the idea of a philosopher-king. Socrates believes this is justified because philosophers are the ones who appreciate the forms or character of things (476a). The discussion carries over in Book VI, and this book could be said to be an examination of the role of philosophy in the ideal city.

But before we go into the particulars of Book VI, I want to take a step back and offer some thoughts about where we are in the book.

---

The city that we have developed alongside Socrates offends our sensibilities. No, let me put it more strongly: it is an immoral way to run a city. The rights of individuals are not respected; in fact, rights have not been mentioned at all. Everyone is assigned a specific function – and only that one function – and one of the alleged virtues of the city is that the masses recognize that they are right to be ruled by the guardians — and presumably, the guardians will recognize that they are right to be ruled by a philosopher-king. Thus, read as a work of political philosophy, I do not find the Republic compelling in the slightest.

Yet, some scholars question whether or not the Republic is meant to be read as a work of political philosophy at all. It certainly gives us an opportunity for political reflection, but should we read it as a positive proposal for the construction of a city? Or is this all an extended metaphor which enables us to discuss Plato’s real concern: moral psychology? Julia Annas, e.g., in her book Platonic Ethics Old and New, takes there to be little in the way of political theory in the Republic. She reads Plato alongside the Middle Platonists who see all of the dialogues as espousing different forms of a unified Platonic ethics. Politics is not the primary focus of the Republic — it may not be a focus at all.

I’m in no position to tell you if Annas is correct, though I am inclined to her view. I’ve gotten there via a different path.

In both early Christianity, scholars spent considerable time and effort interpreting their various scriptures. (Theologians like Origen learned this from Jewish Neo-Platonists like Philo.) One of the principles guiding their interpretation was that the text was there for a reason — even the bits of the text that are contradictory, confusing, odd, morally objectionable, etc. Why are there two distinct creation narratives? Why does Abraham disguise his wife twice? Why does the Psalmist praise dashing babies’ heads against the rocks? It is hard to say, but the difficulties in the text are there for a reason. They are an invitation to read deeper, to find a new level of meaning.

I’ve come to read the Republic in a similar way: the political content of the book is so objectionable that I must read it as about something else, namely the functioning of the soul. This leads to more difficult works of interpretation, but the hope is that this work pays off.

So, as I read of Socrates’ belief that philosophers should rule the city, I am asking myself a different question: how can I let the philosophical life guide the rest of my life?

Diana and Actaeon

One admirable element of the philosopher’s nature, Socrates says, is a love of learning:

He is always in love with any learning which helps to reveal that reality which always is, and which is not driven this way and that by becoming and ceasing to be. (485b)

Indeed, a philosopher is ‘in love with the whole of reality.’ The other philosophical character traits that we find admirable are truthfulness, self-discipline, greatness of spirit, courage, justice, quickness of mind, good memory, refinement, and charm. In the narrative of the Republic, this serves as an argument for why a philosopher should be king — in the reading I’m putting forward, Plato is enumerating character traits we should strive to cultivate as we seek to rule over ourselves.

Yet, this philosopher is often not at home in the world. An analogy is made with a ship:

Imagine some ships, or one ship, and a state of affairs on board something like this There’s the shipowner, larger and stronger than everyone in the ship, but somewhat deaf and rather short-sighted, with a knowledge of sailing to match his eyesight. The sailors are quarrelling among themselves over captaincy of the ship, each one thinking that he ought to be captain, though he has never learnt that skill, nor can he point to the person who taught him or a time when he was learning it. On top of which they say it can’t be taught. In fact they’re prepared to cut to pieces anyone who says it can. The shipowner himself is always surrounded by them. They beg him and do everything they can to make him hand over the tiller to them. Sometimes, if other people can persuade him and they can’t, they kill those others or throw them overboard. Then they immobilise their worthy shipowner with drugs or drink or by some other means, and take control of the ship, helping themselves to what it is carrying. Drinking and feasting, they sail in the way you’d expect people like that to sail. More than that, if someone is good at finding them ways of persuading or compelling the shipowner to let them take control, they call him a real seaman, a real captain, and say he really knows about ships. Anyone who can’t do this they treat with contempt, calling him useless. They don’t even begin to understand that if he is to be truly fit to take command of a ship a real ship’s captain must of necessity be thoroughly familiar with the seasons of the year, the stars in the sky, the winds, and everything to do with his art. As for how he is going to steer the ship – regardless of whether anyone wants him to or not – they do not regard this as an additional skill or study which can be acquired over and above the art of being a ship’s captain. If this is the situation on board, don’t you think the person who is genuinely equipped to be captain will be called a stargazer, a chatterer, of no use to them, by those who sail in ships with this kind of crew? (488)

The captain who must attend to higher things – like the stars (recall that stargazing has a history in Greek philosophy) – and this is analogous to the philosopher. The philosopher has to attend to higher things which can appear useless, but in fact they allow the philosopher to do things he or she otherwise could not do.

There are, of course, many challenges. Society can corrupt the would-be philosopher, and there are many frauds. Those who have ‘tasted how sweet and blessed a possession’ philosophy is, though, will see the ‘madness of the many.’ (496c-d).

The Unfortunate Teacher of Musical Theory

And so we end with another question: what should the philosopher study? What should a philosophical education be like? The philosopher should be oriented toward the good, since all other things may merely appear to be good. Even justice, the topic we are supposed to be discussing in the Republic, may only appear good — or injustice may appear good, rather.

As we continue our own philosophical educations, perhaps we can keep this in mind.

---

Here are some of my favorite comments from last week.

Daniel writes:

There was a lot in this chapter about the protectors of the city and the stripping away of their private lives to align their interests with the Republic. After reading Arendt I can't help but feel she'd actually see this as a very dangerous proposition, with the clear potential for Totalitarianism. Equally Byung Chul Han has a great short book called "The Transparency Society" that continues in this theme of defending the private life. It's just a theme I'm paying attention to as we all know the history of totalitarianism in the 20th century.

Raymond responds:

Your hunches are correct. Arendt represents a philosophical outlook that is diametrically opposed to that of Plato. Whereas Plato, speaking through the mouth of Socrates, believes that only universal, absolute Ideas or Forms constitute the objects of true knowledge, Arendt believes that contingency and natality are the basic dimensions of the human condition and that human history is always open-ended and unpredictable. The Republic, as defined by Plato, would destroy all opportunities for action, the essence of humanity according to Arendt, as it is totally characterized by utilitarian, instrumental behavior.

In my opinion, what we've seen so far has already far exceeded a mere potential for totalitarianism. It is already a totalitarian society, with the goal of achieving total control of the citizenry in the name of harmony; just like all other totalitarian societies we've seen.

And Michelle writes:

This was a really illuminating chapter for me, actually, although it seems like a side quest.

I agree that Socrates’ system of eugenics would create the optimal guardians. All of his arguments track. However, I am fundamentally opposed to the implementation of eugenics. So, this leaves me with a question of, essentially, where did we go wrong- one I think we in the comments have been grappling with since the idea that in the ideal city everyone does only one thing.

For me, the eugenics discussion clarified it because it essentially says: get rid of the babies who are inferior ie not suited to their purpose. Since I don’t want to kill the babies, I have to either find a purpose for them, or accept that the premise, “all people must have a purpose/all people must be useful” is broken in some way.

In modern times we do try to give people a purpose, for example often people will say that someone disabled is “inspiring”. I dislike that, also, because it’s so demeaning. So I think I have to say that either we don’t have a purpose at all, or that our purpose is not related to what we do for other people, maybe? I don’t know.

But if you reject “the purpose of people is to be useful”, then the Greek definition of virtue “something which allows you to be better at fulfilling your purpose ie being useful” makes no sense, then justice as a virtue maybe makes no sense?

Here, I think, Michelle is wrestling with the problem of giving an ‘ideal’ theory (ideal in spirit, at least) for a non-ideal world.