Republic: Book Two
Glaucon comments that there are three classes of good things: things which are good in themselves (simple, harmless pleasures), things which are good because they have good consequences (exercise, timely health checkups) and things which are good for both the above reasons. Socrates says he’d like to place justice in the third category — “which will be valued by one who is in pursuit of true happiness, alike for their own sake and for their consequences”. Glaucon does not concur, and wants to place it in the second category, something that people pursue solely for favorable consequences.
What Glaucon says next seemed a lot like Rawls’ theory of a social contract (I have not read Rawls’ work in detail, and might be standing on mount stupid). The case for justice, he says, is that the pain of suffering injustice outweighs the pleasure of committing it. Hence, we “find it expedient to make a compact of mutual abstinence from injustice” and that “there is certainly no one else who is willingly just; but it is from cowardice, or age, or some other infirmity, that men condemn injustice [...] this is proved by the fact that the first of these people who comes to power is the first to commit injustice”
Glaucon then goes on to compare the ideal just man and the ideal unjust man. In fact, he makes the distinction between being just and the appearance of being just — if Socrates defends a just man who is known for his justice, he is not defending justice but merely its appearance. The ideal just man has the worst reputation for injustice, he says, without being guilty of a single unjust act; and the ideal unjust man is the opposite. It is easy to see how such an ideal unjust man will trump the ideal just man in every situation; he sums it up by saying “to be just without also thought just is no advantage to me, but only entails manifest trouble and loss, whereas if I am unjust and get myself a name for justice an unspeakably happy life is promised me”.
One deterrent to injustice is the promise of afterlife — people who have lived just and honest lives spend eternity carousing with the gods while the ungodly and unjust are plunged into Hades, condemned to carry water in a sieve. However, there is no shortage of soothsayers and quacks who claim to have powers to amend crimes committed in this world — unjust people (who are usually rich enough to afford such luxuries) tend to hire such people to insure their afterlife. Such practices are further encouraged by poets like Homer, Glaucon says, by spreading stories how not just individuals but whole cities can petition a god’s forgiveness by offering the right sacrifice.
It does not seem like (not to me, at least) that Socrates actually makes a proper attempt to address the concern (that the unjust man is always better off than the just man), but diverges to another direction entirely. He starts the discussion by talking about justice in a city; hoping to get some helpful insight into the nature of justice. He first talks about specialization. Once the basic needs of the citizens are met, need will be felt to “cut ourselves a slice of our neighbour’s territory” for greater luxury and comfort. This adds another specialization that a healthy city needs — warriors, or guardians. These guardians needs to be gentle to their friends and dangerous to their enemies. This way, I think, Socrates links the qualities of the warriors to that of a just man, as discussed in book one.
I find the next argument (primarily by Socrates) very absurd. Firstly, they somehow convince themselves that a high-spirited gentle man is a contradiction. Socrates resolves this contradiction by comparing such a man with a dog; and noting that a dog equates acquaintance with friendship and “How, I ask, can the creature be other than fond of learning when it makes knowledge and ignorance the criteria of the familiar and the strange?”. This is clearly well-fermented manure — in fact, that a dog refuses to use any other (more reliable) criterion to judge animosity and friendship shows that it is not fond of learning and self-correction. Even if you disregard the absurdity of this argument, there is no way such a predicate can be literally translated over to a human. The comparison of human and animal behaviour in most contexts is dubious at best and in my opinion, breaks down completely when you try to draw such sweeping conclusions.
Anyway, once they’ve concluded that the nature of the guardians are supposed to be “philosophical, high-spirited, swift-footed and strong”, the focus goes to their education. Socrates has something against the poet-educated culture (he definitely has reason to :)) and suggests a censor on the kind of folklore a future guardian is exposed to in his childhood. Socrates is concerned that exposure to folklore that depict gods and other respectable engage in immoral, unjust behaviour, sets a bad example for children to aspire to. He gives various examples I won’t repeat.
Book two ends with Socrates arguing that since
- gods are perfect beings
- gods can only change their form only by exerting their own will
- the human form is imperfect
they never impose themselves on us by sending signs, apparitions or by appearing in our dreams. Doing so would involve debasing themselves, which no god would ever do. This is a clear case against poets who often use gods as characters in their storytelling. He says when “a poet uses such language concerning the gods, we shall be angry with him and refuse him a chorus, neither shall we allow our teachers to use his writing for the instruction of the young”. The rift between the philosophers and the poets is clearly visible at this point.