The Just Life is Better than the Unjust Life

In the Republic, Socrates argues that justice pays.

Justice is necessary for the ability to make choices that result in the best life and most happiness. The
parts of the soul are in "harmony." Reason rules, spirit is reason's ally, and appetite is held in line. The
three parts of the soul are organized so that action is in accordance with the knowledge of the good. This
knowledge belongs to reason. In this part of the soul, there is the knowledge that existence in the body is
temporary, that the body and its needs are distractions, and that the good most of all resides in a certain
exercise of theoretical reason involving knowledge of the forms.

Hence, in the Republic, the just life is better than the unjust life.

Ruling is Part of a Plan

In a just city, the lovers of wisdom are the rulers. How can this be? Wouldn't the rulers be better off
abandoning their posts and spending all their time in the love of wisdom, since this is the activity in
which happiness consists most of all?

"Each ruler will spend much of his time in the love of wisdom (φιλοσοφίᾳ), but, when his turn comes, he
labors in politics and for city's sake, not as if he were doing something fine (καλόν), but as a necessity
(ἀναγκαῖον)" (Republic VII.540b).

What is the necessity that makes the rulers rule?

The answer not completely clear, but part of the idea seems to be that ruling is part of a plan to maximize
happiness. The ruler expects that taking his turn in ruling over the city will maximize his time spent in the
love of wisdom and hence maximize the satisfaction he takes in his life on earth in the body. It is not
rational for him to shirk his duty to rule. If he were to not take his turn in ruling the city, he would
increase the probability of spending less time in the love of wisdom and hence increase his probability of
being less happy.

"And so the man proposes the penalty of death. Well, then, what shall I propose as an alternative? Clearly
that which I deserve, shall I not? And what do I deserve to suffer or to pay, because in my life I did not
keep quiet, but neglecting what most men care for--money-making and property, and military offices, and
public speaking, and the various offices and plots and parties that come up in the state--and thinking that I
was really too honorable to engage in those activities and live, refrained from those things by which I
should have been of no use to you or to myself, and devoted myself to conferring upon each citizen
individually what I regard as the greatest benefit? For I tried to persuade each of you to care for himself
and his own perfection in goodness and wisdom (βέλτιστος καὶ φρονιμώτατος) rather than for any of his
belongings, and for the state itself rather than for its interests, and to follow the same method in his care
for other things. What, then, does such a man as I deserve? Some good thing, men of Athens, if I must
propose something truly in accordance with my deserts; and the good thing should be such as is fitting for
me. Now what is fitting for a poor man who is your benefactor, and who needs leisure (σχολὴν) to exhort
you? There is nothing, men of Athens, so fitting as that such a man be given his meals in the prytaneum.
That is much more appropriate for me than for any of you who has won a race at the Olympic games with
a pair of horses or a four-in-hand. For he makes you seem to be happy, whereas I make you happy
(εὐδαίμονας) in reality; and he is not at all in need of sustenance, but I am needy. So if I must propose a
penalty (δίκαιον) in accordance with my deserts, I propose maintenance in the prytaneum" (Apology 36b-
37a).

The Just Life is the Most Pleasant

Even if the rulers would fare worse if they were to leave their posts, is it possible that some unjust life is
better than the life of a lover of wisdom who does not live in a just city?

Glaucon sets a very high bar. He asks Socrates to show that a just human being who suffers what are
popularly understood as great misfortunes is still better off, even if the comparison is to an unjust human
being who suffers none of these so-called misfortunes but instead is showered in what are popularly
understood as the good things in life.

"We must take away his reputation, for a reputation for justice would bring him honor and rewards, so
that it wouldn't be clear whether he is just for sake of justice itself or for the sake of those honors and
rewards. We must strip him of everything except justice and make his situation the opposite of the unjust
person's. Though he does no injustice, he must have the greatest reputation for it, so that his justice may
be tested. ... [T]hose who praise injustice at the expense of justice will say that a just person in such
circumstances is worse because he will be whipped, stretched on a rack, chained, blinded with fire, and, at
the end, when he has suffered every kind of ill, he'll be impaled...." (Republic II.361b-362a.)

It is not at all clear that Socrates actually meets this challenge. The reason is that he does not explain in
any detail what happiness is. "Contemplation" (θεωρία) makes a substantial contribution. This much
seems clear, but Socrates does not explain how this contribution is weighed in comparison with other
things traditionally thought to contribute to or detract from happiness.

"Socrates, I think that from this point on our inquiry [into whether justice pays] looks ridiculous now
that justice and injustice have been shown to be as we have described them. Even if one has every kind of
food and drink, lots of money, and every sort of power to rule, life is thought not to be lived if the nature
of the body is ruined. So if someone can do whatever he wishes, except what will free him from vice and
injustice and make him have justice and virtue (δικαιοσύνην δὲ καὶ ἀρετὴν κτήσεται), how can it be worth
living if the nature by which we live is ruined and in turmoil?

Yes, it is absurd. But now that we have won to this height, we must not grow weary in endeavoring to
discover with the utmost possible clearness that these things are so" (Republic IV.445a-b).

The truest pleasures are the ones proper to the parts

Socrates says that there are three kinds of pleasure, one for each part of the soul (Republic IX.580d). He
says that person in which each kind is dominant praises that kind the most, but that the person with the
most experience of these pleasures is the best judge of which of these pleasures is the "sweetest."

"But since the tests are experience and wisdom and reason (ἐμπειρίᾳ καὶ φρονήσει καὶ λόγῳ), what
follows?
 Of necessity,that the things approved by the lover of wisdom and the lover of reason (ὁ φιλόσοφός τε
καὶ ὁ φιλόλογος) are most true.

Then of the three kinds of pleasure, the pleasure of that part of the soul whereby we learn is the sweetest,
and the life of the man in whom that part dominates is the most pleasurable (ἡ τούτου τοῦ μέρους τῆς
ψυχῆς ᾧ μανθάνομεν ἡδίστη ἂν εἴη, καὶ ἐν ᾧ ἡμῶν τοῦτο ἄρχει, ὁ τούτου βίος ἥδιστος;)?

How coud it be othewise (Republic IX.582e-583a)?

Socrates argues that a part of the soul will get the truest pleasure when it gets what is proper to it. When
the appetitive or spirited parts of the soul dominate, the knowledge in the part with reason does not
directed action. In this case, the appetitive or spirited parts of the soul direct action to objects that do not
provide the truest pleasures.

"Let us confidently assert that those desires of even the profit-loving and honor-loving parts of the soul,
which follow knowledge and reason (ἐπιστήμῃ καὶ λόγῳ) and pursue with their help those pleasures
which intelligence (φρόνιμον) prescribes, will attain the truest (ἀληθεστάτας) pleasures possible for them,
since they are following the truth. These pleasures are proper (οἰκείας) to them, if that which is best for
each thing may be said to be most proper to it. So if the whole soul (ψυχῆς) follows the wisdom-loving
part (φιλοσόφῳ) and there is no internal dissension, then each part will be able to fulfill its own task and
be just in other respects, and also each will reap its own pleasures, the best and the truest as far as
possible" (Republic IX.586d-587a).

Virtue Frees the Soul from the Body

The life in which the soul has virtue is the good life because virtue frees the part of the soul with reason
and thus allows for "contemplation" (θεωρία).

Socrates says that the city, "if rightly (ὀρθῶς) founded," is "wise, brave, moderate, and just" (σοφή τ᾽ ἐστὶ
καὶ ἀνδρεία καὶ σώφρων καὶ δικαία)" (Republic IV.427e). It is wise because of the rulers, brave because
of the auxiliaries, moderate because everyone is controlled, and just because the three classes are each
doing its proper job.

In the individual, if the soul is functioning properly, these virtues occur similarly. The individual is wise
because of the part of the soul with reason, brave because of spirited part holds to the declarations of
reason in the face of pleasure and pain, moderate because all three parts are controlled, and just because
each part is doing its proper job. In this situation, because the part with reason is wise and hence exercises
"forethought in behalf of the entire soul" (Republic IV.441e), the individual arranges things in his life so
that he can engage in "contemplation" (θεωρία).

"The soul is conceived of as preexisting and as just temporarily joined to the body. It thus has two lives
and two sets of concerns. Its own concern is to live a life of contemplation of truth. But, joined to the
body, it also has to concern itself with the needs of the body. In doing this it easily forgets itself and its
own needs, it easily gets confused so as to make the needs of the body its own. To know how to live well
is to know how to live in such a way that the soul is free again to clearly see and mind its own business,
namely to contemplate the truth. Thus we have an extremely complex inversion of the relative weight of
one's theoretical understanding of reality and one's practical knowledge of how to live. It is one's
understanding of reality, and the position of the soul in it, that saves the soul by restoring it to the extent
that this is possible in this life to its natural state, in which it contemplates the truth. Hence a good life
will crucially involve, as part of the way one lives, contemplation of the truth. Practicing the right way to
live will also be a means to enable the soul to free itself from the body, to see the truth, and to engage in
the contemplation of truth" (Michael Frede, "The Philosopher," 9).

"[W]hereas Socrates had thought that there was no need to gain theoretical knowledge about the world or
reality and that perhaps it was even impossible to do so, since it was not the function of reason to gain
such knowledge, both Plato and Aristotle disagreed. They thought that it was crucial not only for a good
life, but also for an understanding of how to live well, to have an adequate general understanding for the
world. Moreover, though they granted that it was a function of reason to determine the way we live, they,
each in their own way, did not think that this was the sole function of reason. Plato rather seems to have
thought that guiding us through our embodied life is a function which reason takes on, but that it, left to
itself, is concerned to theoretically understand things quite generally" (Michael Frede, "Introduction" in
Rationality in Greek Thought, 13).

It is paradoxical to think that the life of "contemplation" (θεωρία) is the good life, but no doubt Plato
knew this and thought that the reason this view runs contrary to common belief is that the many are
confused about what they are and what is in their interest. They fail to understand that a human being is a
soul temporally located in a body.
Summary

In Book I, Socrates entertains two distinct definitions of justice. The first is provided by Polermarchus,
who suggests that justice is "doing good to your friends and harm to your enemies." The definition, which
is a version of conventionally morality, is considered. Very soon though, its faults are clearly apparent. It
is far to relative to serve as a formulation of the justice. Moreover, its individual terms are vulnerable; that
is to say, how does one know who is a friend and who an enemy? And are not friends as much as enemies
capable of evil? And when a friend acts wickedly, should he not be punished? And next, what does it
mean that an action is good or bad? The perils of giving credence to false appearances is introduced early
on as a major theme. It will be dealt with at length in the succeeding books. Thus surely an idea as noble
as justice will not stand on such precarious ground. Socrates is dissatisfied. A second definition, offered
by Thrasymachus, endorses tyranny. "Obedience to the interest of the stronger," is likewise mined for its
value, shown to be deficient, and discarded. Tyranny, Socrates demonstrates employing several analogies,
inevitably results in the fragmentation of the soul. Benevolent rule, on the other hand, ensures a
harmonious life for both man and State. Justice is its means and good is its end. That "justice is the
excellence of the soul" is Socrates' main conclusion. But there are too many presumptions. Although his
auditors have troubled refuting his claims, Socrates knows he has been too vague and that should they
truly wish to investigate the question of justice, he will have to be more specific. Book I ends with yet
another question. Is the just life more pleasurable, more rewarding than the unjust? Rather all at once the
philosophers have inundated themselves. But the first book has succeeded in one major way. It has
established the territory of the over-arching argument of the entire work;

The philosophers continue the debate in Book II by introducing a new definition that belongs more to
political philosophy than pure philosophy: that justice is a legally enforced compromise devised for the
mutual protection of citizens of a state. In other words, justice is a fabrication of the State that prevents
citizens from harming one another. Socrates is certainly up to the challenge. He dislikes the idea that
justice does not exists naturally, but that it must be externally and superficially imposed to discourage
unjust behavior. Adeimantus' mentioning of the State seems fortuitous, but it is as if Socrates has been
waiting for it all along. Uncertain whether they can arrive at an acceptable definition of justice any other
way, Socrates proposes they construct a State of which they approve, and see if they might not find justice
lurking in it somewhere. This State arises, Socrates says, "out of the needs of mankind." And the immense
project of building a State from its very foundation has officially commenced. Basic necessities are
addressed first, then the primitive division of labor, followed by the rudiments of education. Within the
ideal State, Socrates maintains, there will be no need for "bad fictions," or manipulative poetics in
general, since education must be perfectly moral.

The arts in education are primarily dealt with in Book III. Socrates concludes his attack on the "libelous
poetry" that portrays his beloved virtues in so many negative lights. It is not of use to the State. Or if it is
to be of use, it must be stringently didactic and partake of none of the indulgence and rhapsody common
to their tradition and to contemporary poets as well. Even Homer is indicted. Instead the citizens of the
state, at this early stage they are generically named guardians, are to be nourished only on literature -
broadly termed 'music' by Socrates - clearly illustrating courage, wisdom, temperance, and virtue (just
behavior). The second part of education, gymnasium, consists mostly of the physical training of the
citizens. At this point Socrates' State needs rulers. Who better to rule than the best and most patriotic
citizens produced by the rigorous education apparatus. These very select few are now more strictly called
the guardians, while non-guardians remain citizens. The guardians will be the rulers. The book closes
with the Phoenician myth, which Socrates feels would serve as effective mythical explanation for their
State. Through the myth citizens are told they are made of a certain mix of metals, gold and silver, iron
and brass, etc. They are born like this and are to take the requisite social station because of it. However,
should a citizen of gold or silver be born to parents of an inferior metal, he will rise socially as is just; and
the rule will also function in the reverse situation. The myth provides the State with an accessible,
allegorical illustration of its stable, hierarchical social organization.

In Book IV the happiness of the guardians, so strenuously trained, is questioned. Socrates takes the
objections of his auditors in due stride, reminding them of their original premise: that the State is to be for
the good of the many and not the few. Their State has grown larger in the meantime, and is beginning to
divide its labors. Defense and security against neighbors and foreign invasion enter the debate. But surely,
Socrates says, the education, military and otherwise, that the citizens have garnered, coupled with their
love for the State and their solidarity, will repel or outwit all challenges. Believing that what they have
created thus far is a perfect State, the philosopher once again seek out justice. Socrates suggests they
proceed by a process of elimination among the four virtues. He defines courage, temperance, and wisdom,
but must digress before attaining justice. The digression yields the three principles of the soul: reason,
passion, and appetite. When these exist in harmony, Socrates concludes, there is justice. It is a provisional
definition.

The philosophers agreement at the end of Book IV to discuss the various corrupt forms of government is,
however, interrupted by an accusation of laziness. Thrasymachus voices his dissatisfaction with Socrates
who, he says, has purposely avoided speaking of the more practical concerns of the State. The objection
blossoms into the section on matrimony. Encompassing matrimony, family, and community, Socrates
elucidates his very scientific, very futuristic plan for population control and the right breeding of the
human animal. The strong reproduce more often than the weak. Likewise weak offspring are disposed of
or hidden away someplace unnamed. Socrates has bucked two of what he calls three "waves." The third
and greatest is the question of whether their possibility is realizable in any way. Socrates' response is
mostly negative. However, there is one method by which the States they see around them might become
ideal States. That is, if philosophers become kings or, more likely, if kings take up the study of
philosophy. Hence the famous term philosopher-kings. But this in turn begs the query: what is the
philosopher? This leads Socrates into another complicated idea, an inchoate version of the Theory of
Forms. Manifestations, appearances, likenesses, opinions‹ none of them are Reality; they are merely
shadows. Only the Forms, the ideals that lie behind are truth. And the philosopher seeks above all else
knowledge of these Forms.
Yet another accusation from the gallery directs Socrates' inquiry in the beginning of Book VI.
Adeimantus believes the guardians they have created are monsters. On the contrary, Socrates defends,
their nobility and worth are beyond question, drawing on the parable of the pilot and his crew as an
illustration. The parable opposes the wants of the majority with the authority of the truly fit leader. The
multitudes, Socrates explains, do not know what is best for them. They are to be ruled by one especially
suited and trained to this end, and for the good of all. Socrates is obliged then to develop the relationship
between the guardians and philosophy. Guardians, he says, cease to be guardians when they abandon the
truth, be minority or otherwise. The final section of Book VI includes a series of wonderfully vivid and
intelligible figures or metaphors that help clarify somewhat the Theory of Forms and the good. Visibility,
vision, and light are analogous to knowledge, the knower, and that which makes knowing possible, the
good. The good is symbolized by sunlight, the vital means by which the sun not only sheds light on the
world but nourishes that world. Philosophy is a love of the light, an attempt to perceive and understand it
in all its metaphorical manifestations. Everything else belongs to the world of the manifold, of shadows.
Finally the dialectic is the only way to ascend, as upon a staircase of ideas, to the luminous good.

Book VII is dominated by the Allegory of the Cave. One of the most enduring images perhaps in the
history of western philosophy, the dim cave plays host to a group of prisoners, chained in such a way that
they cannot move their heads, stare at a wall all day. Thanks to a small fire, the prisoners see the shadows
of their captors projected on the wall. Having always been in the cave, they believe the shadows are true;
likewise, the echoed voices they hear, they also believe to be true. Then one day a certain prisoner is
released. The secrets of the cave are disclosed to him, and he is lead up into the sunlight, which blinds his
unaccustomed eyes. The third part of the allegory has the Œenlightened' prisoner, who has looked upon,
contemplated, and adjusted to the true light of the sun, must return to the cave. There he finds his new
eyes ill-suited for cave life and is cruelly mocked by the other prisoners. A summary of the life course of
the guardians, the allegory moralizes dutiful rule for the common good. The guardians must give up the
beauty and peace of the light to help their fellow men, the majority of whom dwell in abject darkness. But
who would make such a sacrifice? Given their education‹ which is now expanded even further‹ Socrates
is confidant the guardians would. After all they spend the first fifty years of their life training for the
opportunity and, as they would considered it, their honor.

Socrates asks permission to backtrack a little at the opening of Book VIII in order to analyze the forms of
corrupt governments. This way they can also look at the individuals inhabiting them, thus cutting away
the grist so that only the meat, the just man, may remain. There are four principle defective forms:
timocracy, oligarchy, democracy, and tyranny. Aristocracy's (the republic) degeneration into timocracy
occurs as a kind of hypothetical fluke, an error in population control. The timocracy is a government
based primarily on honor not justice, and the timocratic man is torn between his philosophical ancestors
and new, ingratiating contemporaries who flatter his vanity. Oligarchy arises when wealth becomes the
standard. The State separates into two distinct and distant classes‹ rich and poor. And the timocrat
embodies the old, honorable ways in competition with avarice. After a revolution in which the rulers are
overthrown by the discontented poor, democracy, the most liberal and various State appears. The
democratic representative is ruled by appetites that hold sway well above reason or honor. The final
dissolution into the worst and most wicked form of government, tyranny, is the result of democracy's
supposed virtue: freedom. But is in excess and, after another revolution, a new ruler, the tyrant ascends.
He has no unlimited freedom and thus no morals. He feels off the State, taxes his people, protects himself
with mercenaries, and destroys any threat to this power. The book's most miserable character, the tyrant is
antithetical to the guardian; he is injustice incarnate.

Book IX sees Socrates deal with the figure of the tyrant in more depth. This is a necessary digression,
since by evaluating the life of the tyrant, his pleasures and pains, they may have a better idea of what
constitutes the unjust life. Eventually they will use what they learn from the tyrant to compare his life
with the philosopher's. The tyrant begins as the champion of the people, promising to release them from
debt. By the end of his reign, however, he has taxed them into poverty and enslaved them. Then, in an
unexpected turn, the tyrant, for a while master of all men himself becomes a slave to all men. He is
governed by insatiable appetites, is threatened on all sides and at every moment by betrayal and
assassination, and can never leave his land for fear of being deposed. The portrait is rather dismal; what
would seem to be absolute freedom is in reality absolute slavery. Book IX concludes with the re-
introduction of the question: does the unjust man who is perceived as just in public live better or worse
than the just man perceived as unjust? A discussion of the nature of pleasure ensues and the base
pleasures are distinguished from the noble and, in fact, more enjoyable. Ultimately, Socrates answers, in
the long run, injustice enjoys much less, if at all, and must inevitably reveal itself and be shunned or cast
out. The finale, and really the end of the State as such, is Socrates assertion that whether or not the ideal
State becomes a reality, the philosopher must always live as though it were real inside him.

The final book of The Republic, "The Recompense of Life," telescopes into two main points. First is the
issue of imitative poetry. Here Socrates offers his conclusive assessment of the poetic arts. Homer, he
apologizes, must, except for those parts portraying nobility and right behavior in famous men and gods,
be left out of the State. He may even have to be translated from verse to prose, in order that the musicality
of the language not seduce any citizens. Second comes the true recompense of life, which actually occurs
in the afterlife. Although the just man reaps great rewards in mortal life, it is in his immortality, or the
immortality of his soul, where he is truly paid his due. The gods receive the just man, who has aspired all
along to emulate them, as a quasi-equal. And enfin, The Republic closes with Socrates' colorful narration
of the tale of Er the hero. It is a long description of an afterlife, in which all those virtues that Socrates has
worked so diligently to expose and defend are given their proper place. Souls are shown in eternal
recurrence, moving up and down from the heavens to earth and back again (with the wicked spending
thousand year stints in hell).
SCRIPT

PHILOSOPHY- THE LOVE OF WISDOM

ITENERANT- a person who travels from place to place.

SOPHISM-What we know of their thought indicates that they frequently claimed that whether or not an
action is right or wrong is less important than whether or not it benefits the interests of the agent. Many
argued that there were no such things as right and wrong—that objective moral standards did not exist.
Some denied any possibility of objective truth and scoffed at the idea of objective knowledge. They
claimed that morality is a convention imposed by the rulers of societies upon their subjects.

The Republic

the most well-known dialogue of the ancient Greek philosopher Plato, offering profound contemplation
on the meaning of justice, and whether the just or the unjust man is happier in life. The work is split into
ten separate books, making it one of Plato's longer pieces.

slide8

The dialogue begins as Socrates and Glaucon are invited to a gathering at the home of Polemarchus. Upon
arrival, Socrates begins conversing with Polemarchus’s father Cephalus. During this talk, Cephalus
comments upon the benefits of justice, prompting Socrates to pose the question for which he is probably
best remembered: “What is justice?” Cephalus (perhaps wisely) excuses himself from the discussion at
this point, and it is taken up by Polemarchus and later Thrasymachus, who each have their own
definitions of justice. Socrates responds with his renowned Socratic Method: instead of openly
contradicting their definitions, he asks a series of questions regarding their specifics until their inherent
contradictions become apparent. Polemarchus soon abandons his definition, and though Thrasymachus is
regarded as one of Socrates’s more formidable opponents, he eventually does likewise.

25-The visible world is the universe we see around us. The intelligible world is comprised of the Forms—
abstract, changeless absolutes such as Goodness, Beauty, Redness, and Sweetness that exist in permanent
relation to the visible realm and make it possible. (An apple is red and sweet, the theory goes, because it
participates in the Forms of Redness and Sweetness.) Only the Forms are objects of knowledge, because
only they possess the eternal unchanging truth that the mind—not the senses—must apprehend.

conclusion

Why do men behave justly? Is it because they fear societal punishment? Are they trembling before
notions of divine retribution? Do the stronger elements of society scare the weak into submission in the
name of law? Or do men behave justly because it is good for them to do so? Is justice, regardless of its
rewards and punishments, a good thing in and of itself? How do we define justice? Plato sets out to
answer these questions in The Republic. He wants to define justice, and to define it in such a way as to
show that justice is worthwhile in and of itself. He meets these two challenges with a single solution: a
definition of justice that appeals to human psychology, rather than to perceived behavior.
slide 30 The founders of a state ought to know the general forms in which poets cast their tales and the
limits which must be observed by them." The traditional tales transmitted by Homer contain false ideas
about the gods: divine beings are supposed to assume several shapes, and God is supposed to be the cause
of all things, including evil. This is untrue for Plato's spokesman Socrates. God is essentially good, and is
not the cause of evil in the universe. All these tales must be forbidden.

31-As for the style : "All mythology is a narration of events, either past, present or to come . . . . And
narration may be either simple narration, or imitation, or a union of the two" (Republic 27). That is, the
poet may speak in his own voice (simple narration) or he may speak in the voice of a character (imitation,
mimesis). This is a different sense of mimesis from the one we found in Ion. Tragedy and comedy are
wholly imitative, in dithyramb and other genres the poet is the sole speaker, "and the combination of both
is found in epic, and in several other styles of poetry" (Republic 28). We may notice that this is the first
theoretical definition of literary genres on a formal basis. But it is more than that: it is also the first
theoretical approach to the problem of narrative voice. We may as well point out that "narration" is to be
taken in the more general sense of "enunciation"; it is obvious that this classification accounts for other
genres apart from narrative. The diagram in the following page reflects Plato's classification of narrative
modes and genres.

32-Human nature, according to Plato, is incapable of imitating many things well; there is a need of
specialization. That may be one reason why poets are either tragedians, or comedians, or epic poets. In
any case, imitative genres are dangerous because imitations "at length grow into habits and become a
second nature, affecting body, voice and mind" (Republic 29). Many of the themes the poet will be
dealing with will be unworthy, and imitation of them would be below a reasonable man. Therefore, only
one narrative mode is decent when dealing with unworthy themes , "unless in jest." Only the imitation of
good men acting wisely is allowed. In general, the ideal poet will have a definite style: "His style will be
both imitative and narrative; but there will be, in a long story, only a small proportion of the former"

34- words, melody and rhythm are the three aspects of a poem or song. Rhythm is what we call metre,
accent and quantity Melody is music, which is taken into account by Plato because lyrical poetry was
sung in ancient Greece.

>Plato’s use of the term imitation shifts markedly between Book III and Book X. In Book III, it denotes
the kind of poetry that uses direct speech instead of narration or description. The concern in Book III is
about the impact of the impersonation of bad character on young Guardians, the impersonation of good
character being exempted from scorn. According to Sayers, Plato’s use of the same term in Book X does
not imply a total ban on all poetry, but rather a new use of the term. Whereas in Book
III, imitation referred to a particular kind of poetry, in Book X it refers to all imitation in poetry. The
concern in Book III was for the impact on the performer, whereas the concern in Book X is for the impact
on the audience. The only exception in Book X is for hymns to the gods and poems that praise good
people. All other imitations are banned.
THEORY OF FORMS

Plato challenges the idea that what we see in front of us with our own eyes is truly real. Instead, he thinks
this world is a collection of imperfect copies of perfect objects, concepts, and ideas called the forms.

Let's take a classic example: the chair. You know a chair, right? Right. So, our world is filled with all
kinds of different chairs: big chairs, small chairs, uncomfortable chairs, plastic chairs, E.T. the
Extraterrestrial chairs—but up in the world of the forms, there's just one completely perfect chair, and all
the chairs in our world are poor imitations of that one perfect, true, chair.

While this may sound wacky, Plato's theory of the forms helps clear up the pesky philosophical problem
of universals. Or, in plain English: considering how radically different so many versions of a chair can be,
how is it that we are still able to recognize them all as chairs? For Plato, the answer is that up in the world
of forms, this one perfect chair represents "chairness" itself, the mysterious quality that makes all chairs
chairs, even if one is pink and squishy, another green and prickly. This is why the forms are Plato's
representation of truth: they are the true essence of everything we see, know, and think.

For Plato, the forms are a big deal because understanding what they are is the true goal of all philosophy.
And while contemplating the true nature of "chairness" may sound a little nuts, remember that what Plato
is really concerned with are things like "justice" and "the good." You can imagine that knowing the true
essence of these things—and not just the imperfect versions we have—might be pretty important.

In fact, the form of the good is especially important for Plato since it works a little bit differently from the
way other forms work. The form of the good is kind of like a super form, since it is what enables all other
forms to be understandable. In other words, you can't understand anything if you don't understand the
good first, since the good is at the basis of everything.

Plato compares the form of the good to sunlight, which makes things visible and keeps them alive. For
this reason, the form of the good, more than any other form, it the most important goal of philosophy.
Unfortunately for us, it's also one of the most confusing and complex of the forms, so don't be frustrated
if you're not entirely getting it: even Plato scholars struggle with it.

What we know for sure is that Plato thought knowledge and goodness were totally connected, and it's his
theory of the forms that helps him illustrate this crucial link
myth of er

The Myth of Er is a tale in Greek mythology about a man who died on a battlefield and returned to life
nine days later, recounting what happened in the afterlife. The word "myth" was used in the ancient Greek
sense, meaning account, rather than the present-day meaning.

Er was a man who died during a battle, and along with the souls of the other combatants, he was led to a
magnificent place that had four doors; two into and out of the sky, and two into and out of the earth.
There were judges who decided which path each soul should follow depending on the life they had led on
Earth. The good ones were told to go to the sky, while the bad ones were led into the earth. From the sky
exit, souls that appeared clean came out, telling of a place that filled them with incredible feelings. The
souls that emerged from the earth exit were dirty and were talking about the misery and the difficulties
they faced for punishment of what they had done while alive. Some souls however, those of murderers
and other criminals, were not allowed to exit the earth and remained trapped forever.

Er was told that he would not be judged and that he should remain there in order to see the whole
procedure and report it back to mankind. Seven days later, they were all led to another place where there
was the Spindle of Necessity. Necessity or Ananke was a primordial goddess and personification of fate.
There, the souls were given a lottery number, and based on that, each of them was told to ask what their
next life should be. The first soul, having travelled through the sky in the previous area, decided to
become a dictator; when that happened, though, he didn't realise that he was destined to eat his own
children because of his actions. Er realised that the souls that had travelled through the sky and had not
lived the punishment of the other path, often chose bad things for their next lives, while the opposite
happened for the souls that had been punished.

Once the souls chose their next life, they were led under the throne of Necessity to the River Lethe
(Forgetfulness), where they were told to drink in order to forget their previous lives. That night, when
each soul fell asleep, they were sent to new bodies to lead their new lives. Er's soul did not go through all
of this and did not drink from the River Lethe, thus remembering everything he had experienced. When
he woke up, he returned to his old body which had not decomposed during that period, but he found
himself on the funeral pyre that his fellow soldiers had started. They saved him from the flames and he
managed to recount his experience in the afterlife.

The myth was used by Socrates to show that the choices people make have an impact on the afterlife, and
that those who pretend to be pious but are false in their souls will be eventually punished in the next life.