Introduction to Philosophy, Lecture 6: Plato's "Apology"

My purpose in this lecture is to highlight the importance of Socrates' "The unexamined life is not worth living." This is said in the "Apology" when he speaks about how he should be sentenced for his crimes. The price of his particular sentence is death.

You're convinced. It's important. But why? Why are we attracted to great deeds which match great words? Isn't the whole point of philosophy that we can just talk and things will get better?

I can't give you a direct answer to this. Nor do I want to read the whole of the "Apology" and offer you an analysis of all of it. You've got to figure out for yourself if we're even asking the correct question. What I want to do is talk about a few moments in the "Apology" which lead up, in their own way, to "The unexamined life is not worth living." Before I talk about those moments, I think it's worth noting just how many have thrown away the possibility of the examined life. You've got people screaming at their kids nonstop that if they don't do exactly what they say, they'll starve to death. It's pure panic. There's not a single glance at anyone else and how they live. We've got politicians also catering to fear and anger, often proposing solutions to issues which aren't real. Even those who are supposed to know better would rather throw cheap advice at us than bring us into confrontation with the truth. The examined life is a radical proposition, and I can't tell you that everyone will be happier if they aim for it. I can say that it is the only serious path to one's true self and a better world.

OPENING

As we have discussed before, Socrates opens his defense with a philosophical, polemical position. He will tell the plain truth, unadorned, unornamented. That is his true eloquence. And we have to wonder: is there such a thing? Many of you feel there is. After all, don't we struggle with telling others the truth? Aren't there issues we'd rather not confront?

So it's important to say that "the truth" in our situations, in our messy dramas, does correspond to what's happening here. Socrates is on trial for his life. It's a pretty big mess! But in a way, the smallness of our problems–and this isn't to say they are actually small, but they aren't an essential part of our intellectual heritage quite like the "Apology" is–makes "truth" seem absolute. If you know so-and-so's been cheating and you tell your friend who's dating them and your friend denies any such thing could happen, well, the truth is there and obvious enough. But that very situation is too small to even bother inquiring into the concept of truth. We're not going to try to ask about what motivates the cheater; we might not ask if our friend is enabling this behavior. We're not going to push the concept of truth enough until it becomes a matter of perspective.

In the case of Socrates, though, we have to. The question is whether philosophy will always be on trial. Whether science and inquiry can coexist peacefully with any given political order. Thus, it is curious that the "Apology" begins with a peculiar problem. Socrates says he will tell the unadorned truth. Then he says that this is what he'll say in the moment, what comes to him, as if the truth is relative to a given situation. You might notice a potential tension between these two statements! And then he throws in another complication: he does not speak in front of juries, he merely debates people in the open marketplace. He has no idea how people in court talk! So he asks to be treated, by a rather large jury of Athenians, as a foreigner.

You are probably asking yourself if Socrates wants to die, as this is no way to address a jury. I'll just tell you now that is correct and save you some time. What's interesting at the opening is how there is a philosophical problem created by the trial but has to be set aside by it. Is there an absolute truth, or is truth something more momentary, more about our honesty at a given time? It'd be nice to dwell on this, but to have laws, to have justice, demands a third idea about truth: that we can behave in ways we are accountable for. Put this way, you can see that to examine your life depends heavily on the more abstract, theoretical questions about how truth works. Do you believe in something more absolute or more relative? If you have no idea who you are and don't care, well, the law is there to tell you who you are.

CHARGES

Socrates creates a knot of even greater density. He initially does not bother to mention the charges against him. He says the new charges are a result of a reputation he has, an older set of charges. It is important to imagine here how you would react if you saw someone formally accused saying that the charges they currently face aren’t the issue. 

What follows is Socrates' recounting of his damaged reputation. A comedy was written and performed about Socrates, where he was accused of lacking any sense of right and wrong. He searched into things that weren't his business (i.e. did science); "he [made] the worse appear the better cause:"

“Socrates does nothing that is just [dikē]; he is a curious person, who searches into things under the earth and in the sky, and he makes the worse appear the better cause; and he teaches the aforesaid doctrines to others.” That is the nature of the accusation, and that is what you have seen yourselves in the comedy of Aristophanes; who has introduced a man whom he calls Socrates, going about and saying that he can walk in the air, and talking a deal of nonsense concerning matters of which I do not pretend to know either much or little—not that I mean to say anything disparaging of [literally: show no tīmē toward] anyone who is wise [sophos] about natural philosophy. I should be very sorry if Meletus could lay that to my charge. But the simple truth is, O Athenians, that I have nothing to do with these studies.” 

Socrates argues that everyone believes he is unjust and irreverent. He might have a more powerful argument against their belief if 1) he doesn't contradict himself, saying that he will not put down anyone who does natural philosophy but also that he himself does not practice science 2) he's telling everyone what he believes they think and ignoring the actual indictment.

It looks like Socrates is lying. I mean, he's definitely putting in the work to make it look like he's lying. This raises a question, since he does not seem to want to avoid punishment: When is a lie the truth?

I think most of us--and certainly many in Socrates' time–think the charges are utter nonsense. The actual indictment holds that Socrates brought in foreign gods and corrupted the youth. Athens had an oligarchic revolution where ambitious young men associated with Socrates overthrew the democracy and tyrannized other Athenians. This almost sounds damning for Socrates. However, those men obviously associated with far more than Socrates, and plenty of other Athenians were skeptical about democracy after it led them to pointless, endless, and failing wars. Socrates' associates included plenty of people who fought for Athenian democracy, too. The charges are garbage, a product of looking for revenge after a civil war, and over the centuries Plato's Socrates has won the day. No one thinks of the people who killed Socrates as fighters for democracy, though that's what they were. We think of them as mindless butchers with no ability to think beyond their petty grievances.

So the charges do deserve mockery. Why shouldn't Socrates lie? Why shouldn't he misrepresent them? If he's not being treated seriously, why does he have to treat the system with any seriousness?

I believe Socrates' lying/mockery of the charges serves a greater purpose, though. It points to the larger question of how Socratic philosophy, religion, and a democracy based on tradition can be reconciled. It is emphatically saying that it cannot be reconciled through the court of public opinion. A radical shift in thinking is required.

QUESTING

Socrates tells this crazy story where a friend of his goes to the Oracle and asks them if Socrates is indeed the wisest of all. The Oracle answers yes–I mean, you'd say whatever it takes to get a guy like that out of your sight as soon as possible–and Socrates makes it his life mission to argue with Apollo over whether he is wise. Of course, he tests any number of people around Athens and finds out that they are terribly unwise.

I personally think Socrates is mocking the charges and a lot more. Other scholars see Socrates as wrestling with the notion that no government can be completely divorced from religion, from some kind of civic faith. Philosophy is going to have recognize that, on their view, and remain in tension with it. Modern governments, which want technology to advance no matter what, may not be as secular as they claim to be. The existence of government promotes identifying “them,” who are “not like us.” 
 
Is this the problem of “Antigone” emerging again? Creon ranted about traitors to try to kill members of his own family. He was nearly able to consolidate rule because an ignorant and exhausted populace was open to anyone who promised peace. “Them” versus “us” is a product of government but not a serious claim to legitimacy. A government must make a claim about human reason. However, the more a government claims to be reasonable, the more a philosopher is the only legitimate ruler. 

Is civic faith a claim about human reason itself? Somewhat? Sometimes not? What it does seem to hold is that you can be valued as a particular sort of person. Maybe in Sparta you’re valued as a warrior, in Portugal as a seafarer, in the U.S. as a businessman. Can you be valued as a philosopher? Is that even a job? What good could possibly be contributed by someone asking impertinent questions all the time? Lots of people try to reconcile the enterprise of natural philosophy with the good of the nation. Unfortunately, this has resulted in nuclear weapons and the sheer exploitation of the planet. It does not seem philosophy, as fraudulent, suspect, arrogant, and corrupt as it can be, has been tamed by any political order. Only, at times, has it been suppressed. 

Socrates is very upfront that he wants to die. He’s almost in Dr. Manhattan mode, tired of humans and their trivial affairs. But there is a difference. Dr. Manhattan ultimately serves the authorities. Socrates wants to show philosophy is the only true authority. Watch how he tears apart Meletus on the inconsistency of accusing him of being an atheist and bringing in new gods. Socrates acknowledges the actual charges only for his benefit. What’s strange is that we, a modern audience, recognize the inconsistency as grounds for acquittal. It doesn’t matter if Socrates is actually guilty of the charges if he’s shown the accusers to be acting in bad faith. For the ancient audience, this is probably enraging. He’s fighting over technicalities instead of pledging loyalty or showing remorse. 

One might be tempted to say that Socrates’ death is the fundamental change, and this is no doubt true to some extent. But in another way, nothing has changed. We continually punish speech and questions we don’t like. Philosophy serves as a reminder we have a civic faith and it has disturbing limits.