Apology and Crito
To many across the history of western thought, Socrates represents a lifelong commitment to the search for truth and an uncompromising critical stance toward societal conventions and beliefs. The trial and execution of Socrates, for impiety and corrupting the youth, immortalizes him as the consummate reflective individual who refuses to compromise his search for truth even in the face of his own death. There is no doubt about the central place Plato’s romanticized character of Socrates occupies in the narrative of the reasoned search for Truth that has occupied Western thought since those heady days in Athens at the turn of the 4th century BC.
In an imaginary future a bold high school biology teacher in Ohio will defiantly teach evolutionary theory to her students in violation of the dictates of the state Board of Education. The teacher will be instructed that she must stop corrupting the youth and offending god (if she wants to keep her job). The teacher will escalate the conflict, by defiantly continuing to teach the truth. She will purposely offend the religious beliefs and traditions of her community even as she insures the death of her career. She will have unpardonably offended the sensibilities of the parents of the children she has been charged to instruct. Her noble and unwavering insistence on the truth of science and the virtue of learning—in the face of a misguided and persecuting public—will draw glowing (and irresistible) comparisons to Plato’s account of the trial and death of Socrates.
The powerful story of Socrates’ choosing death instead of intellectual compromise occupies a special place in the public imagination. Socrates serves as an assurance that an individual can triumph and live a virtuous life. Socrates is evidence that it is possible to remain true (to thine own self). The famous dictum that “an unexamined life is not worth living” is indeed a powerful call to intellectual inquiry, but I am not entirely clear that Plato’s Apology should be read simply as a defense of philosophy against the state. The political role that Socrates sees himself fulfilling through philosophy may be at odds with the political consequences of his tactics. That is, the Apology can be read both as a defense of philosophy against the state and as a defense of the state against the philosopher.
The early works of Plato, including the Apology, are frequently characterized as “Socratic” because Socrates is explicitly central to the texts. For the purposes of this essay it is not important to resolve whether Plato’s works represent an accurate picture of Socrates the real person and his ideas, or whether the figure of Socrates is merely a role model or a central character around whom Plato can develop his own ideas. Whether or not the Apology generally represents a faithful picture of the behavior of the historical Socrates at his trial, the text can still be read as both an earnest truth-telling speech and as an ironic parody. Plato intends to immortalize his mentor and construct a myth consistent with his own objectives and ideas in the Apology. The historicity of the Apology notwithstanding, there is still a fundamental question of whether “Socrates” is offering a serious and sincere defense against the charges or whether the text is primarily a parody of a response to absurd charges. This essay focuses on the actions of Socrates and tries to explore whether Socrates is earnest, strategic, or merely joking. Even if Plato is ironically (re)creating the trial of Socrates, the character “Socrates” earnestly advocates obedience to laws and legal institutions and defiantly surrenders his life instead of compromising his commitments. Socrates therefore does nothing to mislead the jurors even to his own advantage or to save the life of a philosopher. Though Plato may be ironic in his presentation, Socrates cannot be ironic about anything substantial precisely because it would betray the cause to which he is earnestly committed. Socrates, of course, is at times earnest, strategic, and sarcastic. Understanding whether the Apology is a defense of philosophy against the state or vice versa comes down to examining the words Socrates speaks in his defense (regardless of the historic accuracy or Plato’s motives).
Socrates apologia is not simply a justification for certain actions, but it is a defense of an entire way of life and a whole way of living. He believes that his way of life, his constant pursuit of wisdom and truth, his forsaking riches and false wisdom, is dedicated to the service of his city. Socrates is an heroic figure living an exemplary life that should be a model of all citizens strivings and aspirations. Socrates is presented as an exemplar of self-denial, obedience to ideals that serve the welfare of the community. He tells the truth without considering the consequences to himself. It is not merely a defense of his life, but it is his life’s purpose. This moment is the crescendo to which Socrates life-work has been building. He is resolved to death and sees in it the possibility to give his most powerful lesson. If he were not old, I do not think he would have taken the tact of provoking death. But even if his courtroom tactics are merely strategic, it does not diminish the argument he is trying to make. In fact, Socrates last public lesson to the citizens of Athens may be more powerful because it is strategic. If he truly believes that his mission is to goad his fellow Athenians toward a more noble aspiration and to persuade them to fear wickedness more than they fear death, then his apologia must conform to that mission.
Socrates defense in the Apology frequently seems arrogant and sarcastic—an ill-advised posture for someone trying to persuade a jury. He seems to willingly invite his conviction and condemnation in his proud refusal to demean himself in order to save his life. Especially in his mockingly absurd proposal of a suitable punishment, Socrates seems to be provoking jurors—who he knows loath him—into a death sentence. He seems to want to spite the jurors in order to teach them a lesson about the wrongfulness of their judgment. However, life seems a quite high price to pay merely to spite his adversaries. If Socrates defense is a literal affirmation of his beliefs, he is an arrogant person who harbors great contempt for the jurors and the proceedings. This however, would contradict a conception of Socrates as an earnest seeker and speaker of truth and defender of the laws of Athens. That this tactic needlessly propels him toward death amplifies his point. So too, his self-deprecating remarks about his own abilities and his unabashed praise of his interlocutors are transparently insincere. He is clearly doing more than simply telling the truth in the trial. His irony does not mean he is being dishonest, but it does imply that he does not hold the arbiters of his fate in such high regard. I think he is both extolling literal truths and employing irony and sardonic wit to mock the small-minded jurors.
Socrates believes that each of the jurors is bound by the proceedings to set aside prejudices and judge his guilt or innocence on the charges before them. Socrates believes that the task of the jurors is a just one, but that not all of the jurors perform their duty correctly. Since his principles require him to honor the legal institution, Socrates task is to try to convince the jurors about the true nature of the activities of which he is accused. If he were to intentionally mislead the jurors he would be guilty of violating his own commitment to the laws of Athens and the philosopher’s rigorous pursuit of truth. If there is irony in his presentation is not intended obfuscate the truth. He is guilty, however, of great arrogance and a narrow commitment to procedural purity at the expense of justice. Since he willingly allows the jury to come to the wrong conclusion, Socrates commitment to the laws and procedures of Athens and the court seems either naïve or misguided. If we grant that Socrates is neither naïve or misguided, then he must be contented with allowing the laws to err in their application. If he understands that the laws do not always function to produce just, true and fair results, then his allegiance to those laws and procedures seems equal to his commitment to philosophy. Even when he knows the laws will kill the philosopher, he insists on not betraying philosophy or the laws. This unflinching respect for the laws that requires Socrates to do all he can to enable the jurors to carry out their duty ultimately brings about his own death. In the end Socrates betrays neither state nor philosophy, even as the state conquers the philosopher. Anything less would be a betrayal of Socrates doctrine of a full commitment to wisdom and truth.
Socrates absolves himself from culpability in the death of Athens greatest citizen by warning jurors not to be angered by truth and to decide the case according to the facts. Socrates is confidently assured of his own rightness, hence any jurors who come to the wrong conclusion have done so out of anger or prejudice (and therefore have committed the same impiety and injustice he is trying to avoid.) Socrates reckless disregard for the outcome of the trial is an arrogant insistence that he always pursue truth even when he knows that his activities will lead to the impiety of others. In this sense, Socrates is ultimately guilty of exactly the crimes for which he is accused. By employing a court-room tactic that ensures some jurors will act prejudicially, Socrates is feigning truthfulness while knowingly forcing others into positions of untruthfulness. Indeed, he arrogantly shows the pious perfection of his position. It is, however, at the expense of his life and a gross miscarriage of justice. His personal perfection is his greatest gift to Athens even though it reveals that the application of the laws of Athens as unjust.
On the other hand, Socrates’ remarks about the duty of the citizen to obey the law verge on an authoritarian conception of the state. The citizen who fails to successfully defend against a legal charge by the state must completely abandon autonomy to the state. Even though he believes the outcome unjust, Socrates forfeits his agency to disobey the judgment of the state. Socrates allows no justified civil disobedience even when the citizen knows the state’s edict is unjust or untrue. When faced with the dilemma of when to stop resisting and dissenting, Socrates (ig)nobly accepts the commission of a great injustice by the state. I do not think, however, that Socrates is able to fully remove himself from the commission of this injustice. He seems culpable in the death of a wrongly-convicted citizen because he places the Laws and their procedures above the actual guilt of embodied defendant. In essence, Socrates defense is that he is only following the orders of the state and therefore he cannot be responsible for the death of an innocent citizen who the State and the Laws have ordered to die. Socrates seems to be arguing that despite the obvious fallibility of the legal system, Athens cannot survive if there is no final decision-maker that can override the opinions of individual citizens—no matter how right the citizen-philosopher seems to be. The state possesses final authoritative power even when it is wrong. Even though the philosopher has a moral obligation to self and community to speak truth without regard to consequences, the philosopher is not above the laws of the state. Hence, Socrates is inclined to obey completely, to defend and protect the laws of Athens as if they were his parents and masters. This does not mean, however, that philosophers and citizens cannot ever dissent; they are compelled to do so up to a certain point. Similar to Gandhi’s idea of revolutionary subordination, a philosopher must rest in the assurance that the absurd behavior of the state will be exposed through the philosopher’s refusal to compromise. In the Crito Socrates best friend is philosophy because philosophy presents the highest obligation on Socrates. He is willing to go to his death even though his friend Athens betrays him in its injustice toward him. Socrates cannot respond by betraying his best friend philosophy even after the betrayal by his friend Athens. This means that the philosopher’s unwavering commitment to philosophy has the consequence of vesting final authority in the state.
My imagined high school biology teacher will make a similar calculation to Socrates. If the teacher is nearing retirement, this could be a glorious way to go out with one final powerful lesson for her pupils. If the biology teacher is younger and steadfastly wants to continue a career in teaching in Ohio, she will likely opt for a more subversive resistance to the proclamations of the state Board of Education. (She could choose to teach evolutionary biology without drawing the attention of concerned parents.) So too Socrates’ calculation that he had to speak the truth in such a rigid and arrogant way during his trial should be seen in its best light as merely one of several options open to him. His behavior is more accurately characterized as vainglorious of precisely the same variety that he loudly condemns. Ergo, he is not a simple and noble defender of truth, but a calculating old man who choose a particular way of expressing his beliefs. It may be laudable that he did not fear death, but that alone is not evidence that he remained true—only that his tactics were successful. His death secured his immortality after all. So too, the consequences of resistance are different for differently situated people.
This, however, does not fully answer whether the Apology should be read as a defense of the philosopher or the state. My position is that it can and should be read as both. Plato was undoubtedly offering warnings against the excesses of the Athenian democracy and believed that resistance was possible in the fully examined life of the philosopher. The careful and eloquent prose of the story purposely creates an image of a wise and true philosopher resisting the state—even unto death. This compelling read must be balanced against the authoritarian power granted the state and the limited space for dissent and civil disobedience. Plato’s Apology, like Socrates, emboldens both the authoritarian state and the power of the philosopher to resist.
In an imaginary future a bold high school biology teacher in Ohio will defiantly teach evolutionary theory to her students in violation of the dictates of the state Board of Education. The teacher will be instructed that she must stop corrupting the youth and offending god (if she wants to keep her job). The teacher will escalate the conflict, by defiantly continuing to teach the truth. She will purposely offend the religious beliefs and traditions of her community even as she insures the death of her career. She will have unpardonably offended the sensibilities of the parents of the children she has been charged to instruct. Her noble and unwavering insistence on the truth of science and the virtue of learning—in the face of a misguided and persecuting public—will draw glowing (and irresistible) comparisons to Plato’s account of the trial and death of Socrates.
The powerful story of Socrates’ choosing death instead of intellectual compromise occupies a special place in the public imagination. Socrates serves as an assurance that an individual can triumph and live a virtuous life. Socrates is evidence that it is possible to remain true (to thine own self). The famous dictum that “an unexamined life is not worth living” is indeed a powerful call to intellectual inquiry, but I am not entirely clear that Plato’s Apology should be read simply as a defense of philosophy against the state. The political role that Socrates sees himself fulfilling through philosophy may be at odds with the political consequences of his tactics. That is, the Apology can be read both as a defense of philosophy against the state and as a defense of the state against the philosopher.
The early works of Plato, including the Apology, are frequently characterized as “Socratic” because Socrates is explicitly central to the texts. For the purposes of this essay it is not important to resolve whether Plato’s works represent an accurate picture of Socrates the real person and his ideas, or whether the figure of Socrates is merely a role model or a central character around whom Plato can develop his own ideas. Whether or not the Apology generally represents a faithful picture of the behavior of the historical Socrates at his trial, the text can still be read as both an earnest truth-telling speech and as an ironic parody. Plato intends to immortalize his mentor and construct a myth consistent with his own objectives and ideas in the Apology. The historicity of the Apology notwithstanding, there is still a fundamental question of whether “Socrates” is offering a serious and sincere defense against the charges or whether the text is primarily a parody of a response to absurd charges. This essay focuses on the actions of Socrates and tries to explore whether Socrates is earnest, strategic, or merely joking. Even if Plato is ironically (re)creating the trial of Socrates, the character “Socrates” earnestly advocates obedience to laws and legal institutions and defiantly surrenders his life instead of compromising his commitments. Socrates therefore does nothing to mislead the jurors even to his own advantage or to save the life of a philosopher. Though Plato may be ironic in his presentation, Socrates cannot be ironic about anything substantial precisely because it would betray the cause to which he is earnestly committed. Socrates, of course, is at times earnest, strategic, and sarcastic. Understanding whether the Apology is a defense of philosophy against the state or vice versa comes down to examining the words Socrates speaks in his defense (regardless of the historic accuracy or Plato’s motives).
Socrates apologia is not simply a justification for certain actions, but it is a defense of an entire way of life and a whole way of living. He believes that his way of life, his constant pursuit of wisdom and truth, his forsaking riches and false wisdom, is dedicated to the service of his city. Socrates is an heroic figure living an exemplary life that should be a model of all citizens strivings and aspirations. Socrates is presented as an exemplar of self-denial, obedience to ideals that serve the welfare of the community. He tells the truth without considering the consequences to himself. It is not merely a defense of his life, but it is his life’s purpose. This moment is the crescendo to which Socrates life-work has been building. He is resolved to death and sees in it the possibility to give his most powerful lesson. If he were not old, I do not think he would have taken the tact of provoking death. But even if his courtroom tactics are merely strategic, it does not diminish the argument he is trying to make. In fact, Socrates last public lesson to the citizens of Athens may be more powerful because it is strategic. If he truly believes that his mission is to goad his fellow Athenians toward a more noble aspiration and to persuade them to fear wickedness more than they fear death, then his apologia must conform to that mission.
Socrates defense in the Apology frequently seems arrogant and sarcastic—an ill-advised posture for someone trying to persuade a jury. He seems to willingly invite his conviction and condemnation in his proud refusal to demean himself in order to save his life. Especially in his mockingly absurd proposal of a suitable punishment, Socrates seems to be provoking jurors—who he knows loath him—into a death sentence. He seems to want to spite the jurors in order to teach them a lesson about the wrongfulness of their judgment. However, life seems a quite high price to pay merely to spite his adversaries. If Socrates defense is a literal affirmation of his beliefs, he is an arrogant person who harbors great contempt for the jurors and the proceedings. This however, would contradict a conception of Socrates as an earnest seeker and speaker of truth and defender of the laws of Athens. That this tactic needlessly propels him toward death amplifies his point. So too, his self-deprecating remarks about his own abilities and his unabashed praise of his interlocutors are transparently insincere. He is clearly doing more than simply telling the truth in the trial. His irony does not mean he is being dishonest, but it does imply that he does not hold the arbiters of his fate in such high regard. I think he is both extolling literal truths and employing irony and sardonic wit to mock the small-minded jurors.
Socrates believes that each of the jurors is bound by the proceedings to set aside prejudices and judge his guilt or innocence on the charges before them. Socrates believes that the task of the jurors is a just one, but that not all of the jurors perform their duty correctly. Since his principles require him to honor the legal institution, Socrates task is to try to convince the jurors about the true nature of the activities of which he is accused. If he were to intentionally mislead the jurors he would be guilty of violating his own commitment to the laws of Athens and the philosopher’s rigorous pursuit of truth. If there is irony in his presentation is not intended obfuscate the truth. He is guilty, however, of great arrogance and a narrow commitment to procedural purity at the expense of justice. Since he willingly allows the jury to come to the wrong conclusion, Socrates commitment to the laws and procedures of Athens and the court seems either naïve or misguided. If we grant that Socrates is neither naïve or misguided, then he must be contented with allowing the laws to err in their application. If he understands that the laws do not always function to produce just, true and fair results, then his allegiance to those laws and procedures seems equal to his commitment to philosophy. Even when he knows the laws will kill the philosopher, he insists on not betraying philosophy or the laws. This unflinching respect for the laws that requires Socrates to do all he can to enable the jurors to carry out their duty ultimately brings about his own death. In the end Socrates betrays neither state nor philosophy, even as the state conquers the philosopher. Anything less would be a betrayal of Socrates doctrine of a full commitment to wisdom and truth.
Socrates absolves himself from culpability in the death of Athens greatest citizen by warning jurors not to be angered by truth and to decide the case according to the facts. Socrates is confidently assured of his own rightness, hence any jurors who come to the wrong conclusion have done so out of anger or prejudice (and therefore have committed the same impiety and injustice he is trying to avoid.) Socrates reckless disregard for the outcome of the trial is an arrogant insistence that he always pursue truth even when he knows that his activities will lead to the impiety of others. In this sense, Socrates is ultimately guilty of exactly the crimes for which he is accused. By employing a court-room tactic that ensures some jurors will act prejudicially, Socrates is feigning truthfulness while knowingly forcing others into positions of untruthfulness. Indeed, he arrogantly shows the pious perfection of his position. It is, however, at the expense of his life and a gross miscarriage of justice. His personal perfection is his greatest gift to Athens even though it reveals that the application of the laws of Athens as unjust.
On the other hand, Socrates’ remarks about the duty of the citizen to obey the law verge on an authoritarian conception of the state. The citizen who fails to successfully defend against a legal charge by the state must completely abandon autonomy to the state. Even though he believes the outcome unjust, Socrates forfeits his agency to disobey the judgment of the state. Socrates allows no justified civil disobedience even when the citizen knows the state’s edict is unjust or untrue. When faced with the dilemma of when to stop resisting and dissenting, Socrates (ig)nobly accepts the commission of a great injustice by the state. I do not think, however, that Socrates is able to fully remove himself from the commission of this injustice. He seems culpable in the death of a wrongly-convicted citizen because he places the Laws and their procedures above the actual guilt of embodied defendant. In essence, Socrates defense is that he is only following the orders of the state and therefore he cannot be responsible for the death of an innocent citizen who the State and the Laws have ordered to die. Socrates seems to be arguing that despite the obvious fallibility of the legal system, Athens cannot survive if there is no final decision-maker that can override the opinions of individual citizens—no matter how right the citizen-philosopher seems to be. The state possesses final authoritative power even when it is wrong. Even though the philosopher has a moral obligation to self and community to speak truth without regard to consequences, the philosopher is not above the laws of the state. Hence, Socrates is inclined to obey completely, to defend and protect the laws of Athens as if they were his parents and masters. This does not mean, however, that philosophers and citizens cannot ever dissent; they are compelled to do so up to a certain point. Similar to Gandhi’s idea of revolutionary subordination, a philosopher must rest in the assurance that the absurd behavior of the state will be exposed through the philosopher’s refusal to compromise. In the Crito Socrates best friend is philosophy because philosophy presents the highest obligation on Socrates. He is willing to go to his death even though his friend Athens betrays him in its injustice toward him. Socrates cannot respond by betraying his best friend philosophy even after the betrayal by his friend Athens. This means that the philosopher’s unwavering commitment to philosophy has the consequence of vesting final authority in the state.
My imagined high school biology teacher will make a similar calculation to Socrates. If the teacher is nearing retirement, this could be a glorious way to go out with one final powerful lesson for her pupils. If the biology teacher is younger and steadfastly wants to continue a career in teaching in Ohio, she will likely opt for a more subversive resistance to the proclamations of the state Board of Education. (She could choose to teach evolutionary biology without drawing the attention of concerned parents.) So too Socrates’ calculation that he had to speak the truth in such a rigid and arrogant way during his trial should be seen in its best light as merely one of several options open to him. His behavior is more accurately characterized as vainglorious of precisely the same variety that he loudly condemns. Ergo, he is not a simple and noble defender of truth, but a calculating old man who choose a particular way of expressing his beliefs. It may be laudable that he did not fear death, but that alone is not evidence that he remained true—only that his tactics were successful. His death secured his immortality after all. So too, the consequences of resistance are different for differently situated people.
This, however, does not fully answer whether the Apology should be read as a defense of the philosopher or the state. My position is that it can and should be read as both. Plato was undoubtedly offering warnings against the excesses of the Athenian democracy and believed that resistance was possible in the fully examined life of the philosopher. The careful and eloquent prose of the story purposely creates an image of a wise and true philosopher resisting the state—even unto death. This compelling read must be balanced against the authoritarian power granted the state and the limited space for dissent and civil disobedience. Plato’s Apology, like Socrates, emboldens both the authoritarian state and the power of the philosopher to resist.
Labels: creationism, education, evolution, philosophy, plato, political theory, socrates
posted by Richard Stanislaw at
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