Commentary on Plato's Apology (31b--42)

Socrates: God's Gift to Athens (cont.)
At 31b, Socrates attempts to convince the jury that he really is a gift from God to Athens by asking them whether it seems natural for someone to neglect his own affairs, endure the humiliation of allowing his family to be neglected while he busied himself on behalf of Athens' citizens. He also claims that he received neither enjoyment nor pay for his efforts, the latter being something that his accusers "have not had the impudence to pretend on any testimony".  What does a juror say to this except that Socrates has provided evidence that he is either heaven sent or out of his mind. Socrates goes on to explain to the jury something it probably has no interest hearing, viz., his reasons for confining his activities to the private sector rather than offering advice on matters of state. The reason is his divine sign, (Socrates' shit-detector, as it has been called).  According to Socrates:

 

. . . I am subject to a divine or supernatural experience, which Meletus saw fit to travesty in his indictment. It began in my early childhood -- a sort of voice which comes to me, and when it comes it always dissuades me from what I am proposing to do, and never urges me on. It is this that disbars me from entering public life, and a very good thing too, in my opinion, because, . . . if I had tried long ago to engage in politics, I should long ago have lost my life . . . .  Please do not be offended if I tell you the truth. No man on earth who conscientiously opposes either you or any other organized democracy, and flatly prevents a great many wrongs and illegalities from taking place in the state to which he belongs, can possibly escape with his life. The true champion of justice, if he intends to survive even for a short time, must necessarily confine himself to private life and leave politics alone. (31d ff.).

 

If Socrates is trying to hang himself, he seems to be doing a fair job of it. Socrates once again has done his best to slam the jurors and elevate himself, by suggesting that the jurors are guilty of "many wrongs and illegalities" and that Socrates is the true champion of justice. Socrates' "substantial proofs" of all of this are, first, his experience while holding the "only office which I have ever held in our city" (32b) and a case where he was summoned to the Round Chamber by the Thirty Commanders under the brief oligarchic reign.  But as Socrates himself suggests, these experiences really show, at best, that he is willing to do what he believes is right rather than be persuaded by fear of prison or death to do what he believes to be wrong.

 

From 33a through 33c, Socrates informs the jury, (1) that he has never countenanced an action that was incompatible with justice on the part of any person, (2) never set himself up as any man's teacher, (3) talked with any and everyone, without charging a fee, (4) that he cannot be held responsible for making anyone either a good citizen or bad, and (5) has never told anyone something that was not open to all to hear.

At 33c, Socrates admits that his examination of citizens "has its amusing side". He then points out that if he is in fact a corrupter of the youth then one would expect those who have grown up to denounce him, or their parents to have done so. Socrates then references many members of his "circle of followers" (not pupils, mind you, for Socrates is no man's teacher!) who are present in court and notes that far from claiming that Socrates corrupts, they are prepared to help him.  As Socrates puts it:

 

The actual victims of my corrupting influence might perhaps be excused for helping me [after all, they're corrupted and don't know any better]; but as for the uncorrupted, their relations of mature age, what other reason can they have for helping me except the right and proper one, that they know Meletus is lying and I am telling the truth? (34b).

 

Finally, Socrates gives a relevant response, perhaps the first one of his defense.  Socrates is exactly right to ask why those who have been closest to his actions have not cried "corrupter" upon growing up, or why none of the family members of his closest followers have done so.  It's a legitimate point but still not particularly telling.  For starters, it’s not at all obvious that it’s true.  That is, there may very well be some who are acquainted with Socrates who do find him to have been a bad influence on some of their relatives.  Jurors who knew of such people would not be sympathetic to Socrates here, to put it mildly.  We can also wonder how many of the folks who allegedly are not crying, “Corrupter”, are aware of what Socrates says or does when he busies himself with his mission.  If they don’t concern themselves overly much with Socrates’ work or its affect on their relatives, Socrates’ appeal to them here is not particularly telling.

 

Also, in cases of this sort, (namely, where there is a dispute about the value of one’s activities), the issue clearly is whether Socrates' activities are good or bad for Athens, all things considered.  Needless to say, that is not an easy question to answer.  At best, the fact that Socrates has those who believe in his mission and message, or those who know of his activities and yet don’t cry, “Corruptor”, is not particularly strong evidence in favor of Socrates doing good things for the city – it’s some evidence in Socrates’ favor, but not as much as he seems to think. 

To see why, think Jim Jones, David Koresh, and OBL, et al.  All of these fellows claimed to be on missions from God (different Gods?!) and all had their true believers, and relatives thereof who didn’t regard these men as corruptors.  But as these cases prove, that’s no guarantee that one is a benefactor rather than a corrupter, let alone that one is heaven sent.  Still, that there are people who are acquainted with him who either believe in him or who at least do not regard him as a corrupter is a relevant consideration that the jury needs to hear and take into account before delivering its verdict.  If I were a jury member, I would regard this information as evidence that perhaps the charges against Socrates were both a bit exaggerated and somewhat debatable.

 

Following his appeal to ask his followers whether he is a corrupter, Socrates claims to have completed "the substance" of his defense.  But he is not done with offering his irrelevancies and chastising his fellow Athenians.  At 34c, Socrates pulls off the old lawyer trick of saying he is NOT going to do something, viz., bring family and friends before the court to beg for sympathy.  The trick, of course, is that Socrates; saying he won’t bring it up, JUST BROUGHT IT UP!  The jurors were reminded of Socrates' family and probably felt sympathy for them and for Socrates.  It's like the old trick of saying, "I don't want you to think of a pink elephant", a claim which has the effect of getting you to do so.  In this case, Socrates says some of the jurors might be annoyed that he has not, like so many before him, brought his family and friends before the court "to excite the maximum of sympathy".

 

Socrates goes on to explain, in some detail, exactly why he isn't going to bring his family before the court to beg for mercy. Socrates claims that those who bring family before the court to beg for their lives clearly think it would "be a dreadful thing to lose their lives -- as though they would be immortal if you did not put them to death". (35a).  According to Socrates, such behavior brings disgrace upon the city and people who do it "are no better than women." (Wow, what a stinging criticism, a man said to be no better than a woman! What could possibly be worse than that?! By the way, that's sarcasm.).

To his credit, I think, Socrates insists that a court of law is a place where sympathy tactics are out of place and a man ought to seek acquittal based on facts and convincing arguments, not by eliciting sympathy.  Socrates ends his defense before the jury vote by insisting that he has tried to behave in a way that is reputable and moral and consistent with his religious duty. Anything less, he contends, and he would be guilty of teaching them contempt for religion and thus accusing himself of having no religion. But, he claims, he has "a more sincere belief . . . than any of his accusers . . . ".(35d). Of course, to those sympathetic to Socrates' activities, this sounds all well and good but to those who find him a tiresome and bothersome old windbag, it is simply evidence that Socrates really believes in what he is doing, which of course is not the issue. David Koresh, Jim Jones, OBL, all have the courage of their convictions. The problem with them was their convictions. It's the same with Socrates. Finally, it is ironic to consider that Socrates' defense consists of little more than him telling the jurors that his mission and activities are for the best. This is ironic in that one of Socrates' famous principles is that human being always do what they believe to be for the best (weakness of will is impossible). For Socrates it's a given that he is doing what he believes to be for the best. What needs to be shown is that what one believes to be for the best is not some "figamintation of the imagination". I think it's clear that Socrates failed to show this to the jurors.

 

Socrates' Response to the Guilty Verdict
Socrates says he is not distressed by the verdict, in part because he expected it. He then claims, bizarrely, perhaps even crazily, that "so far as Meletus' part is concerned I have been acquitted." (36a).  Strange stuff.  Socrates faces the death penalty and in such a case he gets a chance to propose a counter penalty, and the jury will vote again to decide the penalty Socrates will suffer. Socrates begins by "reminding" the jurors that because he didn't care for the things that most people care about, like making money, having a comfortable home, political appointments, etc., and because his principles were "too strict" to survive in public service to the state, he decided to do to individuals what he holds "to be the greatest possible service", viz., to persuade them "not to think more of practical advantages than of . . . mental and moral well-being . . . ". (36c).  Socrates says that for behaving in this way he deserves a reward, and a reward appropriate for a poor man and a public benefactor, viz., "free maintenance at the state's expense"!

That Socrates has only partially taken leave of his senses is evidenced by his next line, where he admits to being aware that what he says may anger a few people:

Perhaps when I say this I may give you the impression, as I did by my remarks about exciting sympathy and making passionate appeals that I am showing a deliberate perversity. (37a).

 

Socrates claims that he is doing no such thing and says that he "is convinced that I never wrong anyone intentionally", and later amends this by saying he is convinced that "he does no wrong to anybody", which is quite a different thing from the prior statement. As such, he says he can't bring himself to propose any sort of penalty. Ultimately, he claims that not philosophizing would constitute disobedience to God and so he cannot "mind his own business", although the jury, he thinks, won't believe him. Less likely, he says, is that the jury will believe him when he says that discussing goodness and sundry subjects "is the very best thing that a man can do, and that "life without this sort of examination is not worth living." (38a; this is perhaps the best known Socratic dictum, viz., the unexamined life is not worth living). Ultimately however, after Socrates comes to appreciate that he is not really making friends, he and some of his followers propose a fine of 30 minas, a legitimate offer but perhaps too late even though not too little.

 

Socrates' Response to his Death Sentence
The jury voted for Socrates to be executed, by a vote of 360 to 141. Recalling the initial vote, one can appreciate that Socrates has angered even some of his earlier supporters by his proposal of free maintenance by the state as his penalty.  But Socrates appears quite bitter at this point and directs some rather nasty comments at "those who voted for my execution".  He claims that it was not lack of good arguments that he was condemned but rather "a lack of effrontery and impudence, and the fact that I have refused to address you in the way which would give you most pleasure. You would have liked to hear me weep and wail . . . ." (38d).  Socrates says his accusers have been overtaken by iniquity and that they have been "convicted by truth herself of depravity and wickedness". (39b).  Socrates even goes so far as to prophesy "that as soon as I am dead, vengeance shall fall upon you with a punishment far more painful than your killing of me." (39C).  Not exactly the kind and gentle words one might expect from someone who holds that everyone does what s/he believes to be best and who supposedly doesn’t give a whit about dying. Perhaps Socrates is a bit more upset about being condemned, a little more fearful of death, than he professes.

 

To those who voted for his acquittal (Socrates says they alone deserve to be called, "gentlemen of the jury"), Socrates says that his divine voice, which opposes him if he is about to take the wrong course, has not opposed him all day. He says this is a sure sign that what has happened to him is a blessing and that "we are quite mistaken in supposing death to be an evil" (40b). Now if one is keeping score, Socrates has illegitimately gone from, "Nothing I have done today is the wrong course of action" (a claim which is based on the silence of his divine voice, so it must be reliable!) to "my death sentence is a blessing and it's a mistake to regard death as an evil". Socrates adds the claim that his "accustomed sign could not have failed to oppose me if what I was doing had not been sure to bring some good result." (40c). However, it is one thing for Socrates to claim that he is accustomed to receiving a sign that tips him off to the wrongness of his proposed actions and it's another thing for him to claim that if what he was doing had not been sure to bring some good result then his sign "could not have failed to oppose him." Socrates' day in court can be regarded as not being a wrong course of action, if we accept that the voice exists, that it didn't oppose him in court and that it opposes all and only wrong actions. (It's quite possible that the sign opposes only wrong actions without opposing all wrong actions but I'll give Socrates the benefit of the doubt here). But how does this show that whatever happened in court is sure to bring a good result, let alone show that his sentence is a blessing and that it's wrong to suppose death is an evil? That a course of action of mine isn't wrong does nothing to guarantee that it will yield a good result. Indeed, in ordinary parlance (as opposed to Socratese), even my right actions are not guaranteed to yield a good result (nor my wrong actions guaranteed to yield bad results, nor guaranteed not to yield good results). But we're only talking about actions that are not wrong, and actions that are not wrong without being right, i.e., that rather large class of actions neutral between wrong and right, surely cannot be guaranteed to yield good results. So Socrates must be read as leaning on an implausible assumption here, viz., that all of his nonwrong actions bring good results. Furthermore, he is also assuming that all of his nonwrong actions bring good results for him rather than others. Otherwise, it would be wrong for Socrates to hold that his voices silence is a sign that death is not an evil and that his sentence is a blessing for him (which he appears to believe). It could be that the good result that allegedly follows all of Socrates' nonwrong actions is a good result for the city of Athens but a bad result for Socrates, for death is evil for all but especially so for those who die before repenting of their false beliefs. And it could be that Socrates is wrong to believe he has been offered to Athens as a gift from god.

Socrates then offers a famous and much discussed argument, the upshot of which is that "there is much reason" to regard death as a "good result". The argument begins as follows:

 

Death is one of two things. Either it is annihilation, and the dead have no consciousness of anything, or, as we are told, it is really a change -- a migration of the soul from this place to another. (40c).

 

Socrates calls the former option a "marvelous gain . . . because the whole of time . . . can be regarded as no more than one single night." (40d-e). Already there is a problem because I cannot agree that lack of consciousness is a marvelous gain.  On the contrary, I think it can only be regarded as a terrible loss, viz., a loss of awareness of anything.  The only reason we find “dead sleep” to be wonderful is because we awake from it!  If we never awake from it, it is simply nothing.  While most of us no doubt would prefer nothing to pain and suffering, we would also prefer some sort of continuance of our awareness. 

 

In fact, Socrates’ own claims about the greatness of the continuance option (assuming, of course, that the "stories we are told [about death] are true" and thus holds that death yields the opportunity to see and interact "with all the dead" people).  Socrates asks, rhetorically, "what greater blessing could there be than this . . . ?" (41a).  I agree with him that if death yields the opportunity to interact with all the dead people, then death is a great blessing.  And not having this opportunity is a great loss.  Loss of consciousness yields loss of interaction with others.  Indeed, it seems obvious that loss of consciousness for an extended period of time (i.e., days, weeks, years, and, if we wish to speak science fictionally, centuries and beyond) is not a good thing, even if one comes to regain it at some point.  We simply miss too much that we very much did not want to miss.  But in the annihilation option, one never regains consciousness. I am sorry but I cannot follow Socrates in holding that this option is anything but terrifying and undesirable, and so not a marvelous gain.

 

As for the second option, Socrates assumes that the only continuance stories we have heard about death are the pleasant ones, viz., the ones where death takes us to another place that is remarkably like the one we knew while we were alive, only better in key respects, viz., we're "immortal", i.e., the prospect of annihilation is removed, and there are lots of interesting people to talk to!  But this is precisely what is at issue, viz., what the "other world" is like and whether it allows for "immortality".  If it is assumed to be pleasant and our "immortality" is assumed, then naturally the migration option allows us to regard death as a good rather than an evil thing.  But not all stories about death have the dead migrating to pleasant worlds, where eternal conversation with interesting people is king.  Some stories have it that the dead are transported to hellish places where pain and agony reign.  Hardly a pleasant prospect.  We may even have to suffer annihilation at some point in the future in “the other world”.

 

Nonetheless, there are those who try to make a case for the legitimacy of Socrates' "death be one of two things" argument.  Time permitting I will examine some of the more notable attempts at defending Socrates in the future.  For the time being however, I will content myself with pointing out that the putative defenses fail to convince me that one, annihilation is a marvelous gain, and two, that it is legitimate for Socrates to ignore the possibility that the dead migrate to places that can only be regarded as evil.  In the latter case, the standard ploy is to ignore or soft-sell Socrates' question begging move of taking only the pleasant stories about death to be true.  Of course, even the standard defenses of Socrates fail to consider the possibility that death is neither annihilation nor migration. Surely it is possible that death consists of our being trapped inside our lifeless bodies, aware but helpless. I don't regard that as pleasant, nor I suspect, does anyone else.  (As for those "soul/selves whose bodies are annihilated, say by cremation, they can perhaps be believed to be trapped and aware, into whatever inanimate object is closest to their body at the time of annihilation. Again, not a pleasant thought).

 

Socrates final remarks find him urging the "gentlemen of the jury" to "fix [their] minds on . . . one belief, which is certain -- that nothing can harm a good man either in life or after death, and his fortunes are not a matter of indifference to the gods." (41d).  It would be nice if this were true but anyone who knows anything about this world can only conclude either that there are no good men here or else Socrates' "certain" principle is false.  I conclude the latter. Harms happen in this world to good and bad alike.  Only someone willing to play games with the notion of harms could suggest otherwise.  It's interesting however that Socrates uses his principle to once again claim that it is better for him to die as a result of the verdict than to go free.  Clearly, he assumes that he is a good man.  For without this, and assuming that his death is a harm to him, the proper conclusion for Socrates to draw from his principle is that he is not a good man.  But since the principle is obviously false, it is possible for us to conclude both that Socrates is a good man and that his death harms him.  Finally, Socrates asks the gentlemen of the jury to tell his sons, when they are grown, not to put money or anything else before goodness and to scold them if they neglect the important things and think they are good for something when they are good for nothing.  Socrates concludes by saying:

 

Now it is time that we were going, I go to die and you to live, but which of us has the happier prospect is unknown to anyone but God. (42).

 

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Last modified September 4, 2011
JAH, Professor
Dept. of Philosophy