PHILOSOPHY ASSIGNMENT

BOOK VII

from The Republic of Plato

“Next, then,” I said, “make an image of our nature in its education and want of education,

likening it to a condition of the following kind. See human beings as though they were in an

underground cave-like dwelling with its entrance, a long one, open to the light across the whole

width of the cave. They are in it from childhood with their legs and necks in bonds so that they

are fixed, seeing only in front of them, unable because of the bond to turn their heads all the way

around. Their light is from a fire burning far above and behind them. Between the fire and the

prisoners there is a road above, along which see a wall, built like the partitions puppet-handlers

set in front of the human beings and over which they show the puppets.”

“I see,” he said.

“Then also see along this wall human beings carrying all sorts of artifacts, which project

above the wall, and statues of men and other animals wrought from stone, wood, and every kind

of material; as is to be expected, some of the carriers utter sounds while others are silent.”

“It’s a strange image,” he said, “and strange prisoners you’re telling of.”

“They’re like us,” I said. “For in the first place, do you suppose such men would have

seen anything of themselves and one another other than the shadows cast by the fire on the side

of the cave facing them?”

“How could they,” he said, “if they had been compelled to keep their heads motionless

throughout life?”

“And what about the things that are carried by? Isn’t it the same with them?”

“Of course.”

“If they were able to discuss things with one another, don’t you believe they would hold

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that they are naming these things going by before them that they see?”

“Necessarily.”

“And what if the prison also had an echo from the side facing them? Whenever one of the

men passing by happens to utter a sound, do you suppose they would believe that anything other

than the passing shadow was uttering the sound?”

“No, by Zeus,” he said, “I don’t.”

“Then most certainly,” I said, “such, men would hold that the truth is nothing other than

the shadows of artificial things.”

“Most necessarily,” he said.

“Now consider,” I said, “what their release and healing from bonds and folly would be

like if something of this sort were by nature to happen to them. Take a man who is released and

suddenly compelled to stand up, to turn his neck around, to walk and look up toward the light;

and who, moreover, in doing all this is in pain and, because he is dazzled, is unable to make out

those things whose shadows he saw before. What do you suppose he’d say if someone were to

tell him that before he saw silly nothings, while now, because he is somewhat nearer to what is

and more turned toward beings, he sees more correctly; and, in particular, showing him each of

the things that pass by, were to compel the man to answer his questions about what they are?

Don’t you suppose he’d be at a loss and believe that what was seen before is truer than what is

now shown?”

“Yes,” he said, “by far.”

“And, if he compelled him to look at the light itself, would his eyes hurt and would he

flee, turning away to those things that he is able to make out and hold them to be really clearer

than what is being shown?”

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“So he would,” he said.

“And if,” I said, “someone dragged him away from there by force along the rough, steep,

upward way and didn’t let him go before he had dragged him out into the light of the sun,

wouldn’t he be distressed and annoyed at being so dragged? And when he came to the light,

wouldn’t he have his eyes full of its beam and be unable to see even one of the things now said

to be true?”

“No, he wouldn’t,” he said, “at least not right away.”

“Then I suppose he’d have to get accustomed, if he were going to see what’s up above.

At first he’d most easily make out the shadows; and after that the phantoms of the human beings

and the other things in water; and, later, the things themselves. And from there he could turn to

beholding the things in heaven and heaven itself, more easily at night—looking at the light of the

stars and the moon—than by day—looking at the sun and sunlight.”

“Of course.”

“Then finally I suppose he would be able to make out the sun—not its appearances in

water or some alien place, but the sun itself by itself in its own region—and see what it’s like.”

“Necessarily,” he said.

“And after that he would already be in a position to conclude about it that this is the

source of the seasons and the years, and is the steward of all things in the visible place, and is in

a certain way the cause of all those things he and his companions had been seeing.”

“It’s plain,” he said, “that this would be his next step.”

“What then? When he recalled his first home and the wisdom there, and his fellow

prisoners in that time, don’t you suppose he would consider himself happy for the change and

pity the others?”

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“Quite so.”

“And if in that time there were among them any honors, praises, and prizes for the man

who is sharpest at making out the things that go by, and most remembers which of them are

accustomed to pass before, which after, and which at the same time as others, and who is thereby

most able to divine what is going to come, in your opinion would he be desirous of them and

envy those who are honored and hold power among these men? Or, rather, would he be affected

as Homer says and want very much ‘to be on the soil, a serf to another man, to a portionless

man,’ and to undergo anything whatsoever rather than to opine those things and live that way?”

“Yes,” he said, “I suppose he would prefer to undergo everything rather than live that

way.”

“Now reflect on this too,” I said. “If such a man were to come down again and sit in the

same seat, on coming suddenly from the sun wouldn’t his eyes get infected with darkness?”

“Very much so,” he said.

“And if he once more had to compete with those perpetual prisoners in forming

judgments about those shadows while his vision was still dim, before his eyes had recovered, and

if the time needed for getting accustomed were not at all short, wouldn’t he be the source of

laughter, and wouldn’t it be said of him that he went up and came back with his eyes corrupted,

and that it’s not even worth trying to go up? And if they were somehow able to get their hands on

and kill the man who attempts to release and lead up, wouldn’t they kill him?”

“No doubt about it,” he said.

“Well, then, my dear Glaucon,” I said, “this image as a whole must be connected with

what was said before. Liken the domain revealed through sight to the prison home, and the light

of the fire in it to the sun’s power; and, in applying the going up and the seeing of what’s above

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to the soul’s journey up to the intelligible place, you’ll not mistake my expectation, since you

desire to hear it. A god doubtless knows if it happens to be true. At all events, this is the way the

phenomena look to me: in the knowable the last thing to be seen, and that with considerable

effort, is the idea of the good; but once seen, it must be concluded that this is in fact the cause of

all that is right and fair in everything—in the visible it gave birth to light and its sovereign; in the

intelligible, itself sovereign, it provided truth and intelligence—and that the man who is going to

act prudently in private or in public must see it.”

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