Plato's Republic
Russell McNeil
October 28, 1997


A. Introduction

	Fundamentally the Republic is a book about the relationship 
between the philosopher and the political community -- the 
same community that had accused and convicted Socrates 
of not believing in the gods and corrupting youth. Those 
charges -- the ones brought against Socrates -- were "unjust" 
things as far as that community had determined.

	Although those accusations had been leveled against 
Socrates the philosopher -- they were directed really against 
the activity of philosophy itself.  Philosophy -- broadly 
understood in reactionary times, such as Athens was 
experiencing at the end of a war, as any unorthodox, anti-
establishment thinking.  Let's face it, "wisdom seekers" or 
"wisdom seeking" is a very real threat to anyone in a position 
of power.  Socrates captures this "anti-intellectual" spirit in 
Book X where philosophy is described in a chilling phrase 
as: "...that yelping bitch shrieking at her master!"  The "bitch" 
is philosophy. The master is the poet here, but more 
generally I think the master is intended to represent anyone 
in a position of power. Philosophers are also described in 
that same sentence as a, "mob of overwise men -- holding 
sway."  "Holding sway" means holding power.  So the 
underlying issue around the question of philosophy is really 
the issue of who should hole power -- Thucydides was onto 
something!  In any event, Philosophy and philosophers in 
Athens had fallen on hard times. Philosophy and 
philosophers were seen as subversive because in their 
questioning of wisdom they are really questioning any 
authority who makes a claim to have the right to power.  This 
is subversive activity by design -- we/you do that here ever 
day -- in our challenging and questioning of anyone or any 
idea that makes a claim to truth.  We see it as healthy - but 
if you are in power and insecure it is seen as a threat.  It was 
seen as just such a threat to the Athenian establishment and 
has been seen as such to virtually all political regimes since.  
Plato the philosopher was no exception.  The text is radical 
yes for its particulars - the elimination of private property, the 
complete equality of women, the abolition of the family, and 
so on. But the most thoroughly radical aspect of the Republic 
is its program for the seizing of power generally. It is as 
subversive a text as we will see in this program. 

	In modern political terms Athens was in the grip of one 
of those extraordinary conservative surges that in our times 
comes under names such as "Reform" or "Religious Right" or 
"Reaganism" or "Moral Majority" or "Promise Keepers." 
There are reactionary times in the history of political 
communities when those who question the wisdom of those 
in power are actively suppressed -- or viciously attacked.  
Courage is required to keep on going in times such as those. 
These seem to occur in the wake of wars or disasters or 
difficult economic periods. In such times philosophy -- 
intellectual activity generally -- comes under fire. They are 
times when individuals and entire groups are targeted as 
responsible for the "social ills" or "injustice" that has befallen 
society at large -- as we saw with "fascism" in Germany in 
the 1930's -- and "McCarthyism" in the United States in the 
1950's.  That language Socrates alludes to, "that yelping 
bitch shrieking..." in these contexts is really a language of 
hate.  We cannot forget this. The Republic has serious 
modern analogs as for example when the "yelping bitch" 
translates as "Darwinism" in the 1920's; I'm thinking of the 
Scopes monkey trials. Or "Judaism" in the 1930's; I'm 
thinking of the holocaust. Or "Communism" in the 1950's; I'm 
thinking of McCarthyism.  When students are singled out as 
the "yelping bitch" they too become targets -- as we saw with 
the Vietnam era killings at places such as Kent State in the 
1960's and the Massacre at Tianamin Square in China in the 
1980's.  Notice too that in the examples I use here I make no 
distinction as to type of regime -- the attacks emerge in from 
within oligarchies, tyrannies, and democracies.

	Things are no different now.  Philosophy is as much 
under fire today as it was in Athens in the fifth century BC.  
What "ism" will be the next the next target of hate in this age 
old war against philosophy?  


B. The Question of Justice

	Socrates had been charged with injustice-a charge 
connected directly to Socrates' activity as a philosopher - a 
seeker of "wisdom."  In seeking wisdom, in practicing 
philosophy, Socrates had allegedly denied the gods and 
corrupted youth.  It's funny how some things never change -- 
the "illegal meaning unjust" Ontario teacher's strike in its 
second day today is under attack by the Mike Harris 
government there for challenging the "gods" of Harris 
Conservative orthodoxy -- and corrupting youth to boot! The 
"Republic" examines charges like those in irreducible terms 
by focusing not on the charges but on the question of 
"justice" itself. 

	The Republic looks at the question of justice as 
manifest in community -- the state -- and as manifest in the 
individual -- the soul.  In the end, it recognizes that as far as 
real regimes go, justice as examined there is unachievable - 
unachievable because most real regimes would be entirely 
hostile to the notions of real justice examined here.  

	Let me say this in another way. The Republic is 
primarily a book about personal ethics -- justice within the 
individual -- which it illuminates by way of public politics or 
justice between individuals.  Yes the Republic is also a 
treatise on political philosophy -- but the utopian political 
ideal is unachievable. Socrates/Plato know that and plainly 
state that.  

On the surface, this question of  justice rings false to 
our ears. Justice? What a strange question!  Strange in that 
the answer to the question of justice unfolds in these 300 
pages more like an answer to the riddle, "What is the 
Meaning of Life?"

	It unfolds before us like a cosmic accordion. The 
question of justice demands that we pay attention first to the 
metaphysical ordering of the cosmos: shadows, things, 
invisible shadows, invisible things. These invisible things -- 
forms -- are manifestations of -- or children of a crowning 
essence -- the good. 

	Through Socrates Plato describes a certain turning and 
tuning of mind -- an epistemology -- a way of coming to 
"know" the Truths at the top of this cosmic ordering through a 
process of dialectic.  Seeing the world in these terms 
requires a certain disposition, a certain training, a certain 
talent.  "...fine things are hard," says Socrates.  
But the claim is there. It is within the realm of human 
potential to discover these "truths" intellectually. How is it 
possible to come to know anything without positive experience?

In this context black holes are interesting. They are 
completely unknowable in conventional modern scientific 
terms. No experiment, measurement, or positive 
observation will ever be possible to see inside. You or I can 
never know the "contents" empirically.  Physical impossibilities 
are minor impediments to physicists like Stephen Hawking.  
In fact they may be a relief. The contents of a black hole are 
intellectually retrievable via thought experiments -- gedanken experiments. 
Theory here is as good if not better than the real thing. 
Platonic epistemology lives on in the 20th century -- at least in 
the realm of natural philosophy -- or physics.

	The road to personal ethics -- justice in the individual 
soul --  in the Republic is illuminated by analogies to political 
organization--and there is much about political organization it 
teaches us. These political ideas emerge from a particular 
"thought experiment" in which Socrates builds a city--in 
speech--and gives it a name--Callipolis--beautiful city. But it 
is not a book about a real city, or a city that we might ever 
expect to see. Near the end of this long process in Book IX 
Glaucon asks Socrates: 

	"...I don't suppose [this city whose foundation we have 
laid in speeches {in the mind} exists anywhere on earth."

	Socrates answers: "But in heaven, perhaps, a pattern is 
laid up for the man who wants to see and found a city within 
himself ... It doesn't make any difference whether it is or will 
be somewhere. For he would mind the things of this city 
alone, and of no other."

	The choice then of what the Republic is really about is 
important. Is it a book about public or private matters? Is it 
personal or is it political? Is it about both? If about both, 
where do we place the emphasis?  

	My answer is this.  Plato's dialectic yields dividends -- 
Truths -- that although they are voiced plainly by Socrates -- 
most modern readers ignore.  When we ignore these -- deny 
these dialectally determined truths -- such as the immortality 
of soul -- it is easy to downplay the reasons Socrates 
advances for placing personal ethics well ahead of public 
politics.

	In any event Plato does hold out two ideas -- perfect 
standards of justice to which we can refer in our public and in 
our private lives.  That neither is perfectly achievable does 
not mean they are not helpful ideas or ideals. The best 
musician makes mistakes.  Practice does not make perfect--
only nearly so. We all have our ideas about the perfect 
relationship, or perfect life. The real question then about the 
Republic is not whether the Callipolis ideals are achievable. 
The real question is, do these personal and political  
"models" of justice make sense?  Has Plato left anything out 
in building his models? Are these really the ways that cities 
and souls work? If Plato has written not about cities or souls 
but about cars--something we 20th century moderns do 
know a little bit about--we'd know there was a problem if he 
left out the steering wheel, engine or wheels.

	What is justice in a car? How would Socrates handle 
this one? I wonder what Thrasymachus would say? Like 
some of us, the advantage of the stronger? The just car is 
the biggest, baddest, fastest car around.  We suspect that 
something about this answer is wrong. We know there is 
something wrong because we are able to imagine all sorts of 
regimes where big, bad, and fast cars cause problems. An 
unjust city of cars pollutes; uses up valuable resources; and 
kills. Is this a reasonable approach to the question of car 
justice? Might we not consider first a community of cars, 
asking questions about the component parts of this 
community of cars and applying what we learn from the 
community of cars back onto the single car. An exercise like 
this might yield surprising answers.  But I'm sure we might 
try on various scenarios. What would a tyranny of cars look 
like? How about a democracy of cars? Or an oligarchy, or an 
aristocracy? 

	The answers to these questions might help us notice 
that a community of cars operates much like the community 
of people who operate them. Cars would fall into classes. 
The classes would operate in the best city according to 
principles or virtues that optimized conditions in the city and 
minimized the vices associated with injustice.

	My point is that an answer to the question of justice -- in 
the one car --  is I believe assisted by looking first as the 
question of cars -- many cars -- the community of cars.  We 
would see here that the virtues and vices of the many indeed 
do exist as a consequences of the virtues and vices of the 
one.  

	The problem with the analogy as you probably detect, is 
the impossibility of separating the humans from the question.  
It is impossible to see the city of cars as a reality distinct 
from the city of humans. I am forced to allocate my cars in 
this city to the divisions, classes and categories Plato does 
here. As soon as I realize that, the question of the "just car" 
is indistinguishable from the human "soul" to which the car is 
assigned. The question of justice extends out from me and 
into every single action, decision, or responsibility I can think 
of.

	What is this "soul" Plato refers to? Although Plato's idea 
of soul bears some resemblance to the Christian idea -- I 
think it is a mistake to equate the two.  Plato argues that soul 
"is."  For Plato the existence of soul is neither inferred from 
faith, nor handed to us as divine revelation.  The existence of 
soul is reasoned from Platonic metaphysics.  The reasoned 
soul is also -- and this is important -- "immortal," as  Socrates 
establishes in Book X. Given that the soul "is" and that it is 
distinct from body, it cannot be made worse by the decay or 
death of the body. " -- it's plainly necessary that it be always 
and, if it is always, that it be immortal (Book X, p. 294)."  This 
issue of immortality is critical, for it answers the question of 
"why" we must be good -- or just. It is not only because doing 
the right thing gives us more pleasure -- it is also because in 
this now immortal scheme -- doing the bad thing triggers 
long term consequences -- the unjust soul is in for a hard 
ride.  The "just soul" -- the immortal soul -- as the very last 
lines in the Republic remind us -- "will keep to the upper road 
and reap the rewards.". 

	The implications of this are far reaching. The imperative 
to be "just" makes demands on us. We must be just because 
as humans we are more than shadows. It suggests grand 
things about human potential; about who we are, why we 
are, how we must relate to one another, how we must think 
about happiness, and how we need to think about pushing 
the envelope of the "dialectic journey."  We need to respond 
too because this "dialectic  journey" frees us from the 
enslavement of injustice.  It claims to liberate.  Justice 
equals freedom equals liberation equals immortality equals 
boundless potential.


	How does it all work?  Well, Plato begins with the city. 
The city has three parts; three arenas of specialization: a 
money making part- M,  an auxiliary part A, and a ruling part 
R. The men and women assigned to these parts are 
assigned by nature and temperament to these three parts: 
bronze, silver and gold. 

	In functional terms the bronze, the money making class 
comprises the artisans, merchants, and business class. 
These are the hewers of wood, and drawers of water. These 
are the people who by nature and instinct are drawn to 
service the needs of the various appetites of the city: 
farmers, shoemakers, laborers,  money lenders, pawn 
brokers, massage therapists, forest workers, salespeople, 
entrepreneurs,  builders, developers, service workers, 
plumbers, doctors, and so on. 

	The auxiliaries, the silver, are the protectors, the 
defenders and the warriors.  These are men and women who 
by nature and instinct are drawn to this task: the soldiers, the 
police, the para-military.

	The rulers, the guardians, the gold, are the class of 
people who by nature or instinct are fit to rule: the kings and 
queens, presidents, triumvirates, legislatures, parliaments, 
and tyrants.

	Of course these elements in whatever combination on 
their own do not a just city make.  Justice does not emerge 
spontaneously.  Although this three fold division of natures 
within a city associates certain characteristics to each class, 
those characteristics need cultivation. 

	Justice in the city is impossible without proper 
cultivation. Plato pays closest attention to the cultivating and 
selection requirements for the ruling and Guardian (or 
auxiliary) classes. These two, gold and silver, are 
characterized by the primary virtues seated in each. Rulers 
are expected to be wise; the spirited guardians courageous.


	Of course a raw propensity for wisdom or courage does 
not guarantee the emergence of wisdom or courage. 
Wisdom requires a turning of intellect towards knowledge. 
These "dialectic" skills require special training in calculation, 
geometry and astronomy.  Courage requires a harnessing of 
the "spirited" nature to avoid the excesses of savagery or the 
timidity of weakness--a balance ensured by exposure to the 
harmonizing and moderating educational influences of 
gymnastic and music to bring about a proper balance 
between tension and relaxation.

	While these two "virtues," wisdom and courage, are 
seated respectively in the ruling and auxiliary classes, Plato 
recognized a third virtue, moderation which runs across all 
three classes. This virtue -- moderation -- serves to 
moderate the tendency to excess or deficit.

	"Justice" emerges in this model when in rulers rule and 
all three classes perform their proper roles -- each according 
to its own nature and without interference. They take care of, 
and mind their own business. Injustice is a meddling or 
interference of parts. 

	That this kind of independent action can occur within an 
integrated unity is illustrated by the beautiful example of the 
spinning top on page 115. A spinning top can maintain a true 
and steady alignment in one direction while spinning rapidly 
in another.

	The transition from city to soul -- that to which this 
whole metaphor of the city refers -- begins at line 435b.

	Socrates: "Then the just man will not be any different 
from the just city, but will be like it."

	"Yes," Glaucon said, "he will be like it."

	"But" says Socrates, "a city seemed to be just when 
each of the three classes of natures in it minded its own 
business and, again, moderate, courageous, and wise 
because of certain other affections and habits of these same 
classes."

	"True," Glaucon said.

	"Then it's in this way, my friend, that we'll claim that the 
single man--with these same forms in his soul -- thanks to 
the same affections as those in the city, rightly lays claim to 
the same names."

	"Quite necessarily," Glaucon said.

	This dialogue between Socrates and Glaucon proceeds 
to extract from the city the idea that what is in one man must 
of necessity mirror what is in many. 


	The three divisions of city: ruling, auxiliary and money 
making mirror in soul as a calculating or rational part, a 
spirited part which is allied with but auxiliary to the rational, 
and the irrational, desiring or appetite part: gold, silver and 
bronze. Wisdom resides in the rational. Courage in the 
spirited, and as in the city moderation runs through all three. 
The model is completely equivalent. Modern terminology for 
these three divisions might correspond to Intellectual, 
emotional and physical. 

	The just man appropriates, cultivates and harmonizes 
the regime of his soul in a fashion similar to the just city. The 
rational part rules because it is wise. The rational, in consort 
with the spirit, work together to prevent enslavement or rule 
by the irrational or desiring part of soul.

	Callipolis--the Republic of the soul--takes shape with 
these thoughts:

	"He doesn't let each part in him mind other people's 
business or the three classes in the soul meddle with each 
other, but really sets his own house in good order and rules 
himself; he arranges himself, becomes his own friend, and 
harmonizes the three parts, exactly like three notes in a 
harmonic scale...."

	Why? There's a pay off.  We're free here to choose 
justice or injustice,  just as we were free to abide by moral 
principles handed down to us from the gods.  But the reason 
for choosing the "upper" is rationally manifest.  Justice 
provides an immediately measurable psychic dividend. We 
don't have to believe or hope or have faith that this is so. 
Justice is right because we can know that it is right. 

	We can discover that this choice is the best action by 
harnessing our intellectual resources. This puts flesh on 
moral decisions. Just action is right action because we move 
forward. We become better. We become more wise.  We 
shake off the phantoms and shadows that masquerade and 
enslave us.  Justice breaks the chains that bind us--we 
become truly free. It feels better. It's more pleasant. We 
experience the real thing! In effect, we become "liberated."   

	How does this "liberation" work? It means we become 
lovers of wisdom. It works this way. The ordering of the parts 
of the Republic of soul can be seen as a hierarchy of 
pleasures: appetite, power, wisdom.  When reason leads--as 
it must in the just soul--we can participate fully in the 
pleasures of all three. When we are enslaved by the lower 
parts of soul -- appetite in particular -- we cut off that which is 
above. 

Socrates:  "...the kind of pleasure connected with the vision 
of what is cannot be tasted by anyone except the lover of 
wisdom."

	Let me close with two contrasting passages which 
characterize the difference between enslavement and 
liberation--or in Socrates language, actions and 
consequences connected with what Socrates actually calls, 
"care of the soul."

	Enslavement: "Therefore, those who have no 
experience of prudence and virtue...don't look upward toward 
what is truly above; nor are they ever brought to it; and they 
aren't filled with what really is, nor do they taste of a pleasure 
that is sure and pure; rather, after the fashion of cattle, 
always looking down with their heads bent to earth and table, 
they feed, fattening themselves, and copulating; and, for the 
sake of getting more of these things, they kick and butt with 
horns and hoofs of iron, killing each other because they are 
insatiable; for they are not filling the part of themselves that 
is, or can contain anything, with things that are."

	Liberation--justice--looks like this: "When all of the soul 
follows the philosophic and is not factious, the result is that 
each part may, so far as other things are concerned, mind its 
own business and be just and, in particular, enjoy its own 
pleasures, and, to the greatest possible extent, the truest 
pleasures."