Commentary
on Plato's Apology (26b--31a)
Socrates and the charge of impiety
At
26b, Socrates inquires about the "terms of the indictment" against
him, asking Meletus whether it is Socrates' alleged teaching the young "to
believe in new deities instead of the gods recognized by the state" which
allegedly corrupts the minds of the young. Meletus allows that this "is
precisely" what he maintains. Of course, much could be made and has been
made here about Meletus' claiming that it is Socrates' impiety that corrupts
the young. In particular, if one takes this to mean that Socrates' impiety is
the ONLY thing that Meletus takes to be Socrates' corrupting influence then
making a case for Socrates' innocence is rendered a much tidier matter, for one
need only argue that Socrates makes a convincing case for his not being
impious. More importantly, such a reading seems to threaten my claim that
Socrates' practicing of his elenchus provides the jurors with sufficient
grounds to find him guilty of corrupting the young.
My response is, first, that there is no good reason to think that Meletus
contends that Socrates' impiety is all there is to Socrates' corruption of the
young. The fact that Meletus
allows that Socrates' impiety corrupts the young is "precisely what he
maintains", is obviously compatible with claiming that Socratic beliefs
and behaviors other than his impiety corrupt the young. Meletus might also contend
that Socrates' elenchic activities are a by-product of Socrates' impious
beliefs or that Socrates has on occasion been known to ridicule the gods of the
state in an attempt to demonstrate an interlocutor's ignorance. The bottom line
here is that it is at best lazy and sneaky, and at worst underhanded, for
either Socrates or his supporters to think that establishing that Socrates is
not "impious" is sufficient to establish that he does not corrupt the
young, and thus establish his innocence of the charges before the Athenian
court. As I have already urged, Socrates seems already to have provided the
jury with sufficient evidence to conclude he is a corrupter with his
"confession" that he buttonholes his fellow Athenians, reveals them
to be ignorant of virtue, generates their ire and leads the young to mimic this
behavior. As such, not much really hangs on Socrates being successful or not in
establishing that he is not impious. However, I don't believe that Socrates
makes a very good case for him not being impious.
Socrates'
first step here is to ask Meletus whether the charge is that Socrates believes
in gods different from the usual ones or whether Socrates is a complete
atheist, someone who believes in no gods at all, and teaches others to do the
same. Meletus claims that Socrates is a complete atheist. Socrates' response is
notable:
You surprise me, Meletus. What is your object in saying that? Do you suggest that I do not believe that the sun and moon are gods, as is the general belief of all mankind? (26d).
Meletus
answers by saying that Socrates does not believe this and claims that according
to Socrates, "the sun is a stone and the moon a mass of earth."
(26d). Socrates' response is anything but a straightforward declaration of
belief that the sun and moon are gods. I'm never sure what to say here. On the
one hand, it is disheartening to see a famous philosopher avoid the opportunity
to decisively declare that the sun is a stone and the moon a mass of earth. (Of
course, some there are who could declare that being a stone or a mass of earth
is not incompatible with being a god. They have a wider notion of god than I do
however.). On the other hand, Socrates doesn't declare himself a fan of the
usual stories about gods. Indeed, throughout his entire discussion of this
matter, one never finds Socrates straightforwardly declaring that he believes
in gods or believes in the gods of the state. One suspects that the lack of any
such straightforward declaration went a long way toward convincing the jury
that Socrates is impious, as well as someone who prefers, as we would put it,
Clintonesque answers to questions that ought to be answered with a simple yes
or no. (Whatever one's politics, it should be admitted that Clinton rightly
deserves to be the poster child of slick and evasive claims and answers to
questions). It is this fact, i.e., Socrates' tortured treatment and discussion
of the atheist question, that renders any attempt to defend Socrates against
his accusers otiose, a house of cards, and nothing more than an academic
exercise in the worst sense of the term.
Socrates' refusal or inability to simply say, "I believe in gods", or
"I believe in the gods of the state", or anything of the sort, is the
important message to be taken from this section of the Apology and it is no doubt the message that the jury used to
rightfully ignore the success or failure of any Socratic "line of
reasoning" on the matter. Indeed, not only does Socrates use a line of
reasoning when a line of reasoning is not to the point, but Socrates' use of a
line of reasoning is incriminating. Small wonder then that attempts to defend
Socrates in the atheist matter appeal only to the details of Socrates'
"discussion", thereby ignoring the elephant in the room, viz., the
fact that Socrates sings and dances his way around the entire matter and
nowhere directly declares his belief in gods.
Textually
speaking, Socrates "reply" to Meletus begins with an unbroken chain
of five QUESTIONS for Meletus, including such pertinent and relevant gems as,
"Do you imagine that you are prosecuting Anaxagoras . . . ", and
". . . do you assume [the jury] to be so illiterate as not to know that
the writings of Anaxagoras . . . are full of theories like these?" (26d).
Socrates' complete evasion of the issue ends with his repeating the question,
"Do I believe in no god?", to Meletus. Meletus says that's correct;
Socrates believes in no god at all. Socrates' "reply" to this begins
with an ad hominem, plain and simple,
which is followed up with the claim that Meletus is contradicting himself.
Socrates then asks the jury to examine "the line of reasoning" which
leads him to this conclusion.
At this
point, Socrates elicits agreement on the claim (by appeal to analogies about
humans, horses and musicians, which analogies are not needed to establish such
an obvious claim) that anyone who believes in supernatural activities also
believes in supernatural beings. Socrates then claims that Meletus
"solemnly swore in [his] affidavit" that Socrates believes in and teaches
others to believe in supernatural activities. Socrates then claims:
But if I believe in supernatural activities, it follows inevitably that I also believe in supernatural beings. Is that not so?
. . . Do we not hold that supernatural beings are either gods or the children of gods? Do you agree or not? [Meletus says, "Certainly"]. Then if I believe in supernatural beings, as you assert, if these supernatural beings are gods in any sense, we shall reach the conclusion which I mentioned just now when I said that you were testing my intelligence for your own amusement, by stating first that I do not believe in gods, and then again that I do, since I believe in supernatural beings. (27c-d).
This passage
is followed by Socrates repetition of the obvious (viz., belief in supernatural
or divine activities implies belief in supernatural or divine beings), Socrates
insisting that he has established the impurity of Meletus' motives in bringing
the charges against him, and other irrelevancies. As a juror, I ought to be
wondering why Socrates insists on wasting my time trying to show that Meletus
has allegedly contradicted himself when, one, Meletus has done no such thing,
and two, it's doubly irrelevant anyway. Why should I care whether Meletus has
contradicted himself, assuming he has, by claiming, on the one hand, Socrates
believes in "new deities" and on the other, Socrates believes in no
gods at all? For either offense is sufficient to make the case for Socrates
being impious. (Scholars there are who insist that this is not so. I am not
convinced by their claims, as they are necessarily based on some serious
speculation.).
So please, Socrates, deny both parts of the either/or; otherwise you are
wasting our time. But even if one believes that only the complete atheist charge
is punishable, Socrates' claim that Meletus is guilty of talking nonsense does
nothing to free Socrates of the burden of satisfying the jury that he is not a
complete atheist. Finally, it must be remembered that Meletus' claim that
Socrates is a complete atheist is made in response to a request from Socrates
for a clarification of the indictment, which accused Socrates of teaching the
young to believe in new deities. Under questioning, Meletus says that he claims
Socrates is an atheist, who believes in no gods at all.
By my lights, this clarification supersedes any previous claims by Meletus and
it is this claim that Socrates ought to answer. Alas, he does no such thing and
contents himself with showing merely that Meletus' initial indictment is
seemingly at odds with Meletus' clarification of it. Now this is a nice ploy if
you can get away with it, viz., elicit agreement on one of your opponent's
claims, then ask him to clarify whether the claim says this or that, and when
he answers, "That", contend the "That" answer conflicts
with a "This" reading of the claim, reminding the opponent that he
did say "This", didn't he? Conclude that your opponent is playing
games and the ploy is complete. And to think there are people willing to defend
Socrates here. It's enough to make one blush for the profession.
Digression One (28a-30c)
After
telling the jury that "[a]s a matter of fact . . . I do not feel that it
requires much defense to clear myself of Meletus' accusation", and,
"[w]hat I have said already is enough", Socrates repeats his claim
that it will be "the slander and jealousy of a very large section of the
people" that will bring about his destruction, if anything does (28a),
Socrates imagines someone asking: "Do you feel no compunction, Socrates,
at having followed a line of action which puts you in danger of the death
penalty?" (28b). Socrates replies by insisting that no man "worth
anything ought to spend his time weighing up the prospects of life and
death." According to Socrates, a man of worth "has only one thing to
consider in performing any action -- that is, whether he is acting rightly or
wrongly, like a good man or a bad one." (ibid.). At first blush, Socrates' claims appear
to be beyond reproach but a closer examination reveals that Socrates is advocating
a flawed, or at least, problematic policy.
For
starters, I assume that when Socrates says no good man "weighs up the
prospects of life and death", he is speaking of the good man's prospects
for life and death, rather than that of others. Now, may it not be the case
that "the good man" on occasion weighs up the prospects of his life
and death in considering what to do? Or does Socrates believe that the good man
never considers such a thing? If Socrates believes this then Socrates has,
implausibly by my lights, made not considering the prospects of one's life and
death a necessary condition for being a good man.
Relatedly,
is Socrates claiming that one's determination of whether it is right or wrong
to act in a particular way is always independent of the question of the
prospects of one's life and death? If so, I see difficulties. To take an
obvious case, if I am a military commander who is convinced that my expertise
is indispensable and irreplaceable in a campaign then in considering a particular
course of action for myself and my troops, I must take the prospects of my life
and death into account in determining the right thing to do. It seems then that
there are occasions where the determination of whether I am acting rightly or
wrongly requires me to consider the prospects of my life and death. Indeed,
Socrates could be said (and is said, e.g., in the Crito, by Crito himself) to be doing the wrong thing in not taking
steps to prevent his execution. Such a claim assumes, clearly, that Socrates has
failed to appreciate that a particular course action could be correct precisely
because it is the only way for him to avoid his death. Does Socrates' principle
reject this possibility?
We can all
allow that in the vast majority of actions which we could label right or wrong,
there is no difficulty in agreeing with Socrates that one's only consideration
in deciding whether to do a particular such act ought to be whether one is
acting rightly or wrongly (always choosing to act rightly, of course!), with no
consideration of one's prospect of life or death. But we must appreciate that
this is because in the vast majority of such cases, doing the right thing does
nothing to jeopardize the life of one who does it. In short, we can and ought
to ignore the prospects of our life and death in the vast majority of our
actions precisely because such prospects are irrelevant to the question of the
rightness or wrongness of the action. Socrates claims that on occasion one may
be convinced of the rightness of a particular action while also appreciating
that doing that action is very dangerous, personally, even life-threatening. In
such cases, says Socrates, one ought to go ahead and do what one believes is
right, ignoring the prospect of death. Such is the behavior of the good man,
the man of worth. This is made clear at 28d, where Socrates says:
The truth of the matter is this, gentlemen. Where a man has once taken up his stand, either because it seems best to him or in obedience to his orders, there I believe he is bound to remain and face the danger, taking no account of death or anything else before dishonor.
Ignoring for
now the clause, "or in obedience to his orders" (which opens a big
can of worms), Socrates offers us the case of someone antecedently convinced
that a particular action (or better, course of action) is the right one and
insists that in such a case, one ought not allow the prospect of personal harm,
including death, to dissuade one from persevering in that course of action.
This principle seems not to cover cases where the determination of the right
thing to do is, or can be tied, to the prospects of harm to oneself. Or else it
is ruling out such cases entirely. If the latter, I believe that Socrates is
offering us an untenable doctrine. There are surely cases where one comes to
appreciate that what seemed the best course of action at a particular time no
longer seems so at a later time, precisely because one comes to see that
staying the course is suicidal. It is surely not ignoble to give up on a suicidal
course of action, especially one that has no hope of being useful. (Recall
Mill's insistence that martyrdom for its own sake is a fine example of what
humans can do but not of what they ought to do). If Socrates thinks it is
ignoble, he is simply wrong.
There are,
to be sure, difficulties here with respect to conceptions and descriptions of
behaviors and reasons. For example, I may be convinced of the rightness of
defending a particular city from vandals. I offer then to defend the city.
Suppose I am ordered to defend an outpost at one corner of the city's boundary,
thinking this right. If I come to appreciate that I have been given inadequate
means to defend my outpost, I may desert the outpost, seeking to defend the
city in another quarter. Have I violated Socrates' dictum? It depends on how it
is described. I haven't stopped defending the city, after all. But I have
deserted my outpost, even though I thought defending my outpost was the right
thing to do. Indeed, I may still believe it the right thing to do while also
appreciating that I was ill-equipped to do it at the time. So I leave to come
back and fight another day.
Surely this is not ignoble. This suggests that Socrates' dictum should include
a line or two about when one's decision about what is best is made, and whether
it is plausible for that decision to be altered in the light of new information
and changing circumstances. Clearly there are cases where giving up on a course
of action which seemed best, from a fear of harm or death, is ignoble, is
blameworthy, is cowardly, etc. But there are also cases where one gives up on
one's chosen course of action because the recognition of fear or death leads
one to think the chosen course of action is no longer the best one, or can only
be successful if taken up again at a later time.
But enough
of these wormy general considerations, for there are others to consider. Socrates is trying to defend his
mission, as well as his decision to defend it. At 28d ff., Socrates declares
that it would be inconsistent and shocking for him to let fear of death
dissuade him from the task which he supposes and believes God appointed him
for, viz., "the duty of leading the philosophical life, examining myself
and others . . . ". (28e). No
complaints here but Socrates might allow himself to reconsider his belief that
his mission is both god-given and worthwhile. Socrates goes on to say that the chief reason not to let fear
of death dissuade one from a course of action is because fear of death is a
form of Socratic sin, viz., thinking that one knows what one does not know,
viz., that it is certain that death is the greatest evil. Socrates insists that
"[n]o one knows with regard to death whether it is not really the greatest
blessing that can happen to a man . . ." (29a), and that no one possesses
"any real knowledge of what comes after death" (29b).
One problem with Socrates' reasoning here is that is certain, (or as certain as
humans can have it) that death results in the cessation of our earthly
activities (indeed, this is a tenet of all major religions, yes?), and I am
also certain that I enjoy the vast majority of my earthly activities. To
suppose that my death will result in my being given an existence that will lead
me to conclude that my earthly activities were not enjoyable or worth extending
is absurd. Indeed, it is clear that an enjoyable afterlife, if such there be,
will have to have something in common with our earthly life, including
especially interaction with others in the afterlife. It's not Pollyannish (nor
even nonBuddhist) to declare that human existence is not suffering but
enjoyable and that our death is not a good thing, for the simple reason that it
ends our earthly activities. (Aside: if one believes in reincarnation, this is
not really a life better than the one we have now on Earth but rather an
endless opportunity for something, but certainly not ME, to continue doing
earthly activities).
Socrates
also declares that he does "know that to do wrong and to disobey my
superior, whether God or man, is wicked and dishonorable" (29b). Since
abandoning his mission from God would be to disobey God, Socrates says he knows
it is wrong to abandon his mission. Surely though the principle above is
problematic. Unless one assumes, question-beggingly, that the commands of one's
superior are always right, blind obedience to one's superior could result in
one doing some very wrong actions indeed. And to see this one need look no
further than the case of Abraham and Isaac from the Bible, or the case of Nazi
Germany. Disobeying one's superior is not always wrong for one's superior can
be wrong. A sane person might also
suggest to Socrates that it is a bit foolish to risk one's life on something
that may not really be a command from God. Why is Socrates so certain that God has chosen him for this
philosophical mission?
Most
importantly here, Socrates explicitly rejects as unacceptable a deal which
would acquit him if he agrees to "stop philosophizing", claiming that
he owes a greater obedience to God than to the jury. Socrates reiterates his resolve in criticizing his fellow
Athenians for putting money, reputation, honor, (trivialities, according to
Socrates), above truth, understanding and tendance of their souls (a matter of
supreme importance, according to Socrates). Socrates also claims "no greater good has ever befallen
[Athens] than my service to my God." (30a). Socrates says he spends his
time trying to persuade young and old to make their first and chief concern
"the highest welfare of your souls" rather than their bodies and
possessions. "Wealth, says Socrates, does not bring goodness, but goodness
brings wealth and every other blessing, both to the individual and to the
state." (30b). As I said
before, Socrates sounds a lot like a street corner preacher!. Socrates adds that such is his message
and if he corrupts the young then this message must be harmful to them.
It is not
easy to criticize Socrates' understanding and account of his message and
mission. It sounds odd to declare Socrates' self-described soul-tending mission
to be corrupting. It can of course be said to be excessive, as being the
message of a zealot, etc. That is, Socrates can be accused of regarding
anything other than soul-tending activities (whatever these might be) as evil
and blameworthy, or at least as trivial and unimportant, which is a view that
only a religious zealot could or ought to take seriously. But surely religious
zealots can be tolerated so long as they behave themselves, i.e., so long as
they don't try to harm those who don't give religious activities pride of place
in their lives. So labeling Socrates' self-described mission,
"corrupting" does seem problematic.
Socrates: God's Gift
to Athens
One
interesting point here however is that Socrates' claims about the content of
his message, along with his boast that he will not alter his conduct "even
if I have to die a hundred deaths" (30e), apparently arouses the ire of
the jurors, for Socrates' boast is followed by his insisting on order in the
court and a reminder that he asked for a hearing without interruption. Socrates
also warns that he will say something else "which may provoke a storm of
protest" (30e). Clearly Socrates has poked the jurors in spots that they
don't like. Clearly the jury balks at Socrates' contention that his message is
that of telling his fellow Athenians that tendance of the soul is the most
important task of life, and chastising those who put money and honor above the
soul. I suspect that the jurors resent Socrates' suggestion in large part
because they find it tendentious. That is, not only do they believe that they
do not deserve Socratic "chastising" (because they don't think they
are leading lives that deserve criticism, either because they disagree with
Socrates that soul-tending trumps all other activities or because they believe
they are leading lives that put soul-tending first), they are also taken aback
at Socrates' claim that his mission is simply that of the importance of
soul-tending.
I allow that
this claim is speculative and controversial. Most philosophers would regard it
as a given that Socrates believes that tending the soul is the most important
activity of life and that his mission consisted primarily of urging his fellow
Athenians to tend their soul rather than be concerned with the material side of
life. However, I believe that the jury balks at Socrates' self-description of
his activities in large part because they don't believe that preaching the
gospel of soul-tending has been a big part, if any part, of Socrates' work. On
the contrary, Socrates' mission, they believe, has been that of showing that no
one in Athens (indeed, no humans at all) was "genuinely" wise with
respect to basic concepts like virtue, friendship, courage, piety, justice,
etc. And so the jury balks at Socrates' description of himself as an advocate
of soul-tending not only because they don't think it's a message they need to
hear but also because they think it is false.
But Socrates
is just warming up in his efforts to anger the jurors. At 30c-e, he says:
I assure you that if I am what I claim to be, and you put me to death, you will harm yourselves more than me. Neither Meletus nor Anytus can do me any harm at all; they would not have the power, because I do not believe that the law of God permits a better man to be harmed by a worse. No doubt my accuser might put me to death or have me banished or deprived of civic rights, but I do not think [these are great calamities]. I believe it is far worse to do what he is doing now, trying to put an innocent man to death. For this reason, gentlemen, so far from pleading on my own behalf, as might be supposed, I am really pleading on yours, to save you from misusing the gift of God by condemning me. . . . It is literally true, even if it sounds rather comical, that God has specially appointed me to this city, as though it were a large thoroughbred horse which because of its great size is inclined to be lazy and needs the stimulation of some stinging fly. It seems to me that God has attached me to this city to perform the office of such a fly, and all day long I never cease to settle here, there, and everywhere, rousing, persuading, reproving every one of you.
Several
points are worth noting here. One, whether or not it is far worse to try to put
an innocent man to death than it is to be put to death or banished or deprived
of civic rights, it still seems obvious that the latter are harms and if they
are done by a worse man to a better man, then Socrates' alleged "law of
God is violated". Clearly Socrates fails to keep the very different
notions of "doing more harm to X than to Y" and "doing harm to
Y", separate. It is also absurd to suppose that no better man has ever
been harmed by worse men. Not surprisingly, the only way to avoid having this
be absurd is to accept other absurdities, like death, torture, banishment,
robbery, and other obvious harms, are not harms at all, at least in cases where
they are done by a worse to a better man!
Perhaps what
Socrates really wishes to say is that anytime a better man is harmed by a worse
man, the worse man is harmed more. That certainly seems to be more compatible
with his other claims here, as well as Socratic principles generally. But this
reading requires Socrates to give us some account of how the worse man is
harmed by "trying to put an innocent man to death", or even by
putting an innocent man to death, or banishing people, or stealing from them,
etc. Given the facts of life, one would have to insist that the harm done is
not obvious, not visible to the naked eye as it were. For it doesn't seem that
"worse men" always and everywhere are obviously or visibly harmed by
their harming of a "better man".
It is also
tendentious for Socrates to describe Meletus or Anytus as "trying to put
an innocent man to death". They are convinced that Socrates is not an
innocent man. So they are trying to put a man they believe to be guilty to
death. I find it implausible that it is "far worse" to try to execute
an innocent man (or even to have succeeded in doing so) that one is convinced
is guilty than it is to be executed, banished, deprived of civic rights, etc.
Indeed, it's not wrong at all for one to try to execute a person one believes
is guilty of a crime that merits execution. Socrates here unjustifiably imputes
sinister motives to his accusers and once again assumes, rather than
demonstrates, his innocence.
Finally,
imagine yourself on a jury and the accused tells you that his defense is aimed
at protecting you from "misusing" the gift of God, viz., himself, by
condemning him. And the accused tells you, straight out, that he does perform
the actions which are the source of his indictment, viz., his elenchus, but
contends that the actions, far from meriting punishment, are in fact ordered by
the gods and quite helpful to the city. In short, Socrates' defense consists of
telling the jury that he is no corrupter and not impious not because he doesn't
do the actions which his accusers believe to be corrupting but because he has
been ordered by the gods to do those actions in order to make Athens a better
place. Pardon the levity if levity it be but isn't this the same defense used
by Son of Sam?
Last modified September 17, 2011
JAH, Professor
Dept. of Philosophy