The assigned reading for tomorrow’s Greek and Roman Philosophy course is Plato’s Apology. Well, it’s (mis)translated from the Greek word apologia, meaning a legal defense (or something like that—I’m not a classicist). In reality, Socrates does not apologize whatsoever. Instead, Socrates conclusively demonstrates that he has nothing to apologize for and refuses to supplicate the jury for their mercy.
It’s sounding cool already, right? The direct quotes are even cooler.
Apology covers a lot of ground, but I will share passages that comment on virtue, moral responsibility, and telos, i.e., one’s reason for existing, e.g., to disabuse ignoramuses of their hubris so that they might sincerely pursue truth, wisdom, and, in so doing, the good life.
The following excerpts highlight the major beats in Apology: Socrates explains in what regard he is wiser than others; he pleads his innocence to the charges of impiety and corrupting the Athenian youth, blaming the envy of sophists; then, Socrates refused to give up his pursuit of truth through interlocution that often results in aporia (a state of puzzlement); Socrates accepts his death sentence in heroic, heart-rending fashion.
So I withdrew and thought to myself: “I am wiser than this man; it is likely that neither of us knows anything worthwhile, but he thinks he knows something when he does not, whereas when I do not know, neither do I think I know; so I am likely to be wiser than he to this small extent, that I do not think I know what I do not know. . . . in my investigation in the service of the god I found that those who had the highest reputation were nearly the most deficient, . . . (Apology, 21d & 22a)
I am not guilty of the charges in Meletus’ deposition, but this is sufficient. On the other hand, you know that what I said earlier is true, that I am very unpopular with many people. This will be my undoing, if I am undone, not Meletus or Anytus but the slanders and envy of many people. This has destroyed many other good men and will, I think, continue to do so. There is no danger that it will stop at me. (Apology, 28b)1
If I say that it is impossible for me to keep quiet because that means disobeying the god, you will not believe me and will think I am being ironical. On the other hand, if I say that it is the greatest good for a man to discuss virtue every day and those other things about which you hear me conversing and testing myself and others, for the unexamined life is not worth living for men, you will believe me even less. (Apology, 38a)
[T]hose who believe death to be an evil are certainly mistaken. . . : either the dead are nothing and have no perception of anything, or it is, as we are told, a change and a relocating for the soul from here to another place. If it is complete lack of perception, like a dreamless sleep, then death would be a great advantage. . . . If death is like this I say it is an advantage, for all eternity would then seem to be no more than a single night. If, on the other hand, death is a change from here to another place, and what we are told is true and all who have died are there, what greater blessing could there be, gentlemen of the jury? . . . Again, what would one of you give to keep company with Orpheus and Musaeus, Heiod and Homer? I am willing to die many times if that is true. (Apology, 40c-e, 41a)
Apology is worth reading in its entirety, closely, and repeatedly. I have highlighted nearly every other sentence and will be revisiting it in trials, tribulations, and travails to come. Also in good times; it’s positively inspiring.
A big thank-you to Professor Christine Thomas—it’s not obsequiousness; she doesn’t read my blog—for assigning a text I should have read long ago. If you haven’t read it yourself, you can’t beg off by pleading lack of time; just listen to it on YouTube.
Plato., John M. (John Madison) Cooper, and D. S. Hutchinson. Complete Works. Indianapolis, Ind: Hackett Pub., 1997.