Complete Works

by Plato, Cooper, John M. , Hutchinson, D. S.

Either that, or else you care nothing for us and aren’t worried about whether we’ll live better or worse lives because of our ignorance of what you say you know. So show some willingness to teach it to us. It wouldn’t be a bad investment for you to be the benefactor of a group as large as ours. For my own part, I’ll tell you that I am not persuaded. I don’t believe [345] that injustice is more profitable than justice, not even if you give it full scope and put no obstacles in its way. Suppose that there is an unjust person, and suppose he does have the power to do injustice, whether by trickery or open warfare; nonetheless, he doesn’t persuade me that injustice is more profitable than justice. Perhaps someone here, besides myself, feels [b] the same as I do. So come now, and persuade us that we are wrong to esteem justice more highly than injustice in planning our lives.

  And how am I to persuade you, if you aren’t persuaded by what I said just now? What more can I do? Am I to take my argument and pour it into your very soul?

  God forbid! Don’t do that! But, first, stick to what you’ve said, and then, if you change your position, do it openly and don’t deceive us. You see, Thrasymachus, that having defined the true doctor—to continue examining the things you said before—you didn’t consider it necessary later to keep [c] a precise guard on the true shepherd. You think that, insofar as he’s a shepherd, he fattens sheep, not looking to what is best for the sheep but to a banquet, like a guest about to be entertained at a feast, or to a future sale, like a money-maker rather than a shepherd. Shepherding is concerned only to provide what is best for that which it is set over, and it is itself [d] adequately provided with all it needs to be at its best when it doesn’t fall short in any way of being the craft of shepherding. That’s why I thought it necessary for us to agree before12 that every kind of rule, insofar as it rules, doesn’t seek anything other than what is best for the thing it rules and cares for, and this is true both of public and private kinds of rule. But do you think that those who rule cities, the true rulers, rule willingly? [e]

  I don’t think it, by god, I know it.

  But, Thrasymachus, don’t you realize that in other kinds of rule no one wants to rule for its own sake, but they ask for pay, thinking that their ruling will benefit not themselves but their subjects? Tell me, doesn’t every craft differ from every other in having a different function? Please don’t [346] answer contrary to what you believe, so that we can come to some definite conclusion.

  Yes, that’s what differentiates them.

  And each craft benefits us in its own peculiar way, different from the others. For example, medicine gives us health, navigation gives us safety while sailing, and so on with the others?

  Certainly.

  And wage-earning gives us wages, for this is its function? Or would [b] you call medicine the same as navigation? Indeed, if you want to define matters precisely, as you proposed, even if someone who is a ship’s captain becomes healthy because sailing is advantageous to his health, you wouldn’t for that reason call his craft medicine?

  Certainly not.

  Nor would you call wage-earning medicine, even if someone becomes healthy while earning wages?

  Certainly not.

  Nor would you call medicine wage-earning, even if someone earns pay while healing?

  [c] No.

  We are agreed, then, that each craft brings its own peculiar benefit?

  It does.

  Then whatever benefit all craftsmen receive in common must clearly result from their joint practice of some additional craft that benefits each of them?

  So it seems.

  And we say that the additional craft in question, which benefits the craftsmen by earning them wages, is the craft of wage-earning?

  He reluctantly agreed.

  Then this benefit, receiving wages, doesn’t result from their own craft, [d] but rather, if we’re to examine this precisely, medicine provides health, and wage-earning provides wages; house-building provides a house, and wage-earning, which accompanies it, provides a wage; and so on with the other crafts. Each of them does its own work and benefits the thing it is set over. So, if wages aren’t added, is there any benefit that the craftsman gets from his craft?

  Apparently none.

  [e] But he still provides a benefit when he works for nothing?

  Yes, I think he does.

  Then, it is clear now, Thrasymachus, that no craft or rule provides for its own advantage, but, as we’ve been saying for some time, it provides and orders for its subject and aims at its advantage, that of the weaker, not of the stronger. That’s why I said just now, Thrasymachus, that no one willingly chooses to rule and to take other people’s troubles in hand [347] and straighten them out, but each asks for wages; for anyone who intends to practice his craft well never does or orders what is best for himself—at least not when he orders as his craft prescribes—but what is best for his subject. It is because of this, it seems, that wages must be provided to a person if he’s to be willing to rule, whether in the form of money or honor or a penalty if he refuses.

  What do you mean, Socrates? said Glaucon. I know the first two kinds of wages, but I don’t understand what penalty you mean or how you can call it a wage.

  Then you don’t understand the best people’s kind of wages, the kind that moves the most decent to rule, when they are willing to rule at all. Don’t you know that the love of honor and the love of money are despised, [b] and rightly so?

  I do.

  Therefore good people won’t be willing to rule for the sake of either money or honor. They don’t want to be paid wages openly for ruling and get called hired hands, nor to take them in secret from their rule and be called thieves. And they won’t rule for the sake of honor, because they aren’t ambitious honor-lovers. So, if they’re to be willing to rule, some [c] compulsion or punishment must be brought to bear on them—perhaps that’s why it is thought shameful to seek to rule before one is compelled to. Now, the greatest punishment, if one isn’t willing to rule, is to be ruled by someone worse than oneself. And I think that it’s fear of this that makes decent people rule when they do. They approach ruling not as something good or something to be enjoyed, but as something necessary, since it can’t be entrusted to anyone better than—or even as good as—themselves. In [d] a city of good men, if it came into being, the citizens would fight in order not to rule, just as they do now in order to rule. There it would be quite clear that anyone who is really a true ruler doesn’t by nature seek his own advantage but that of his subject. And everyone, knowing this, would rather be benefited by others than take the trouble to benefit them. So I can’t at all agree with Thrasymachus that justice is the advantage of the stronger—but we’ll look further into that another time. What Thrasymachus [e] is now saying—that the life of an unjust person is better than that of a just one—seems to be of far greater importance. Which life would you choose, Glaucon? And which of our views do you consider truer?

  I certainly think that the life of a just person is more profitable.

  Did you hear all of the good things Thrasymachus listed a moment ago [348] for the unjust life?

  I heard, but I wasn’t persuaded.

  Then, do you want us to persuade him, if we’re able to find a way, that what he says isn’t true?

  Of course I do.

  If we oppose him with a parallel speech about the blessings of the just life, and then he replies, and then we do, we’d have to count and measure the good things mentioned on each side, and we’d need a jury to decide the case. But if, on the other hand, we investigate the question, as we’ve [b] been doing, by seeking agreement with each other, we ourselves can be both jury and advocates at once.

  Certainly.

  Which approach do you prefer? I asked.

  The second.

  Come, then, Thrasymachus, I said, answer us from the beginning. You say that complete injustice is more profitable than complete justice?

  I certainly do say that, and I’ve told you why. [c]

  Well, then, what
do you say about this? Do you call one of the two a virtue and the other a vice?

  Of course.

  That is to say, you call justice a virtue and injustice a vice?

  That’s hardly likely, since I say that injustice is profitable and justice isn’t.

  Then, what exactly do you say?

  The opposite.

  That justice is a vice?

  No, just very high-minded simplicity.

  [d] Then do you call being unjust being low-minded?

  No, I call it good judgment.

  You consider unjust people, then, Thrasymachus, to be clever and good?

  Yes, those who are completely unjust, who can bring cities and whole communities under their power. Perhaps, you think I meant pickpockets?

  Not that such crimes aren’t also profitable, if they’re not found out, but they aren’t worth mentioning by comparison to what I’m talking about.

  [e] I’m not unaware of what you want to say. But I wonder about this: Do you really include injustice with virtue and wisdom, and justice with their opposites?

  I certainly do.

  That’s harder, and it isn’t easy now to know what to say. If you had declared that injustice is more profitable, but agreed that it is a vice or shameful, as some others do, we could have discussed the matter on the basis of conventional beliefs. But now, obviously, you’ll say that injustice is fine and strong and apply to it all the attributes we used to apply to [349] justice, since you dare to include it with virtue and wisdom.

  You’ve divined my views exactly.

  Nonetheless, we mustn’t shrink from pursuing the argument and looking into this, just as long as I take you to be saying what you really think.

  And I believe that you aren’t joking now, Thrasymachus, but are saying what you believe to be the truth.

  What difference does it make to you, whether I believe it or not? It’s my account you’re supposed to be refuting.

  It makes no difference. But try to answer this further question: Do you [b] think that a just person wants to outdo someone else who’s just?

  Not at all, for he wouldn’t then be as polite and innocent as he is.

  Or to outdo someone who does a just action?

  No, he doesn’t even want to do that.

  And does he claim that he deserves to outdo an unjust person and believe that it is just for him to do so, or doesn’t he believe that?

  He’d want to outdo him, and he’d claim to deserve to do so, but he wouldn’t be able.

  That’s not what I asked, but whether a just person wants to outdo an [c] unjust person but not a just one, thinking that this is what he deserves?

  He does.

  What about an unjust person? Does he claim that he deserves to outdo a just person or someone who does a just action?

  Of course he does; he thinks he deserves to outdo everyone.

  Then will an unjust person also outdo an unjust person or someone who does an unjust action, and will he strive to get the most he can for himself from everyone?

  He will.

  Then, let’s put it this way: A just person doesn’t outdo someone like himself but someone unlike himself, whereas an unjust person outdoes both like and unlike. [d]

  Very well put.

  An unjust person is clever and good, and a just one is neither?

  That’s well put, too.

  It follows, then, that an unjust person is like clever and good people, while the other isn’t?

  Of course that’s so. How could he fail to be like them when he has their qualities, while the other isn’t like them?

  Fine. Then each of them has the qualities of the people he’s like?

  Of course.

  All right, Thrasymachus. Do you call one person musical and another [e] nonmusical?

  I do.

  Which of them is clever in music, and which isn’t?

  The musical one is clever, of course, and the other isn’t.

  And the things he’s clever in, he’s good in, and the things he isn’t clever in, he’s bad in?

  Yes.

  Isn’t the same true of a doctor?

  It is.

  Do you think that a musician, in tuning his lyre and in tightening and loosening the strings, wants to outdo another musician, claiming that this is what he deserves?

  I do not.

  But he does want to outdo a nonmusician?

  Necessarily.

  What about a doctor? Does he, when prescribing food and drink, want to outdo another doctor or someone who does the action that medicine prescribes? [350]

  Certainly not.

  But he does want to outdo a nondoctor?

  Yes.

  In any branch of knowledge or ignorance, do you think that a knowledgeable person would intentionally try to outdo other knowledgeable people or say something better or different than they do, rather than doing or saying the very same thing as those like him?

  Well, perhaps it must be as you say.

  And what about an ignorant person? Doesn’t he want to outdo both a [b] knowledgeable person and an ignorant one?

  Probably.

  A knowledgeable person is clever?

  I agree.

  And a clever one is good?

  I agree.

  Therefore, a good and clever person doesn’t want to outdo those like himself but those who are unlike him and his opposite.

  So it seems.

  But a bad and ignorant person wants to outdo both his like and his opposite. Apparently.

  Now, Thrasymachus, we found that an unjust person tries to outdo those like him and those unlike him? Didn’t you say that?

  I did.

  [c] And that a just person won’t outdo his like but his unlike?

  Yes.

  Then, a just person is like a clever and good one, and an unjust is like an ignorant and bad one.

  It looks that way.

  Moreover, we agreed that each has the qualities of the one he resembles.

  Yes, we did.

  Then, a just person has turned out to be good and clever, and an unjust one ignorant and bad.

  Thrasymachus agreed to all this, not easily as I’m telling it, but reluctantly, [d] with toil, trouble, and—since it was summer—a quantity of sweat that was a wonder to behold. And then I saw something I’d never seen before—Thrasymachus blushing. But, in any case, after we’d agreed that justice is virtue and wisdom and that injustice is vice and ignorance, I said: All right, let’s take that as established. But we also said that injustice is powerful, or don’t you remember that, Thrasymachus?

  I remember, but I’m not satisfied with what you’re now saying. I could make a speech about it, but, if I did, I know that you’d accuse me of [e] engaging in oratory. So either allow me to speak, or, if you want to ask questions, go ahead, and I’ll say, “All right,” and nod yes and no, as one does to old wives’ tales.

  Don’t do that, contrary to your own opinion.

  I’ll answer so as to please you, since you won’t let me make a speech. What else do you want?

  Nothing, by god. But if that’s what you’re going to do, go ahead and do it. I’ll ask my questions.

  Ask ahead.

  [351] I’ll ask what I asked before, so that we may proceed with our argument about justice and injustice in an orderly fashion, for surely it was claimed that injustice is stronger and more powerful than justice. But, now, if justice is indeed wisdom and virtue, it will easily be shown to be stronger than injustice, since injustice is ignorance (no one could now be ignorant of that). However, I don’t want to state the matter so unconditionally, Thrasymachus, but to look into it in some such way as this. Would you say that [b] it is unjust for a city to try to enslave other cities unjustly and to hold them in subjection when it has enslaved many of them?

  Of course, that’s what the best city will especially do, the one that is most completely unjust.

  I understand that’s your position, but the point I want to examine is this: Will th
e city that becomes stronger than another achieve this power without justice, or will it need the help of justice?

  If what you said a moment ago stands, and justice is cleverness or wisdom, it will need the help of justice, but if things are as I stated, it will [c] need the help of injustice.

  I’m impressed, Thrasymachus, that you don’t merely nod yes or no but give very fine answers.

  That’s because I’m trying to please you.

  You’re doing well at it, too. So please me some more by answering this question: Do you think that a city, an army, a band of robbers or thieves, or any other tribe with a common unjust purpose would be able to achieve it if they were unjust to each other?

  No, indeed. [d]

  What if they weren’t unjust to one another? Would they achieve more?

  Certainly.

  Injustice, Thrasymachus, causes civil war, hatred, and fighting among themselves, while justice brings friendship and a sense of common purpose.

  Isn’t that so?

  Let it be so, in order not to disagree with you.

  You’re still doing well on that front. So tell me this: If the effect of injustice is to produce hatred wherever it occurs, then, whenever it arises, whether among free men or slaves, won’t it cause them to hate one another, engage in civil war, and prevent them from achieving any common purpose? [e]

  Certainly.

  What if it arises between two people? Won’t they be at odds, hate each other, and be enemies to one another and to just people?

  They will.

  Does injustice lose its power to cause dissension when it arises within a single individual, or will it preserve it intact?

  Let it preserve it intact.

  Apparently, then, injustice has the power, first, to make whatever it arises in—whether it is a city, a family, an army, or anything else—incapable of achieving anything as a unit, because of the civil wars and differences it [352] creates, and, second, it makes that unit an enemy to itself and to what is in every way its opposite, namely, justice. Isn’t that so?

  Certainly.

  And even in a single individual, it has by its nature the very same effect. First, it makes him incapable of achieving anything, because he is in a state of civil war and not of one mind; second, it makes him his own enemy, as well as the enemy of just people. Hasn’t it that effect?