The Apology (excerpts)

Plato / Translated by Benjamin Jowett

In the troubled years after Athens's defeat at the hands of Sparta, Socrates was called before a court to answer charges which strongly suggest that he was partly responsible for the tribulations of Athenian society.  After the proceedings, Socrates was convicted by a vote of 281 to 220, and sentenced to death.  He chose to end his life by drinking poison Hemlock while in prison.  One his most devoted followers, Plato, later wrote an imaginative account of the trial which was designed to defend Socrates's reputation and also illustrate the essence of his teaching.
 
 I may justly claim, men of Athens, to make my defense first against the first false accusations and the first accusers. For I have had many accusers who have been telling you falsehoods about me for a long time--many years now.   . . .They said that there is a clever man, called Socrates, who theorizes about the heavens and has researched into things beneath the earth, and who makes the weaker argument prevail over the stronger.  Men of Athens, these men, the ones who spread this rumor abroad, are my formidable accusers; for those who hear them suppose that men who search into such matters also do not believe in the gods.  These then are my accusers. . .

Well, then, I will make my defence, and I will endeavor in the short time which is allowed to do away with this evil opinion of me which you have held for such a long time; and I hope I may succeed, if this be well for you and me, an d that my words may find favor with you. But I know that to accomplish this is not easy -- I quite see the nature of the task. Let the event be as God wills: in obedience to the law I make my defence.

I will begin at the beginning, and ask what the accusation is which has given rise to this slander of me, and which has encouraged Meletus to proceed against me. What do the slanderers say? They shall be my prosecutors, and I will sum up their words in an affidavit. "Socrates is an evil-doer, and a curious person, who searches into things under the earth and in heaven, 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 anyone who is a student of 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. Very many of those here present are witnesses to the truth of this, and to them I appeal. Speak then, you who have heard me, and tell your neighbors whether any of you have ever known me hold forth in few words or in many upon matters of this sort. ... You hear their answer. And from what they say of this you will be able to judge of the truth of the rest. . .

One of you might perhaps reply:  "But Socrates, what is this profession of yours?  What is the reason for these slanders against you?  For I do not suppose that so great a quantity of rumor and gossip is the result of actions of yours that were no stranger than other people's.  You must have been doing something different from the majority.  Tell uis what it is, so that we may not judge you hastily and in ignorance."  I think that the person who says that is making a fair request, and I will try to show you what it is that has caused my reputation and the slanders against me.  Listen, then. . . Men of Athens, the cause of this reputation of mine is nothing other than a kind of wisdom.  If you ask me what kind of wisdom, I reply, such wisdom as is attainable by man, for to that extent I am inclined to believe that I am wise; whereas the persons of whom I was speaking have a superhuman wisdom, which I may fail to describe, because I have it not myself; and he who says that I have, speaks falsely, and is taking away my character. And here, O men of Athens, I must beg you not to interrupt me, even if I seem to say something extravagant. For the word which I will speak is not mine. I will refer you to a witness who is worthy of credit, and will tell you about my wisdom -- whether I have any, and of what sort -- and that witness shall be the god of Delphi. You must have known Chaerephon; he was early a friend of mine, and also a friend of yours , for he shared in the exile of the people, and returned with you. Well, Chaerephon, as you know, was very impetuous in all his doings, and he went to Delphi and boldly asked the oracle to tell him whether -- as I was saying, I must beg you not to interrupt -- he asked the oracle to tell him whether there was anyone wiser than I was, and the Pythian prophetess answered that there was no man wiser. Chaerephon is dead himself, but his brother, who is in court, will confirm the truth of this story.

Why do I mention this? Because I am going to explain to you why I have such an evil name. When I heard the answer, I said to myself, What can the god mean? and what is the interpretation of this riddle? for I know that I have no wisdom, small or great. What can he mean when he says that I am the wisest of men? And yet he is a god and cannot lie; that would be against his nature. After a long consideration, I at last thought of a method of trying the question. I reflected that if I co uld only find a man wiser than myself, then I might go to the god with a refutation in my hand. I should say to him, "Here is a man who is wiser than I am; but you said that I was the wisest." Accordingly I went to one who had the reputation of wisdom, and observed to him -- his name I need not mention; he was a politician whom I selected for examination -- and the result was as follows: When I began to talk with him, I could not help thinking that he was not really wise, although he was thought w ise by many, and wiser still by himself; and I went and tried to explain to him that he thought himself wise, but was not really wise; and the consequence was that he hated me, and his enmity was shared by several who were present and heard me. So I left him, saying to myself, as I went away: Well, although I do not suppose that either of us knows anything really beautiful and good, I am better off than he is -- for he knows nothing, and thinks that he knows. I neither know nor think that I know. In this l atter particular, then, I seem to have slightly the advantage of him. Then I went to another, who had still higher philosophical pretensions, and my conclusion was exactly the same. I made another enemy of him, and of many others besides him.

After this I went to one man after another, being not unconscious of the enmity which I provoked, and I lamented and feared this: but necessity was laid upon me -- the word of God, I thought, ought to be considered first. And I said to myself, Go I must to all who appear to know, and find out the meaning of the oracle. And I swear to you, Athenians, by the dog I swear! -- for I must tell you the truth -- the result of my mission was just this: I found that the men most in repute were all but the most foolish; and that some inferior men were really wiser and better. I will tell you the tale of my wanderings and of the "Herculean" labors, as I may call them, which I endured only to find at last the oracle irrefutable. When I left the politicians, I went to the poets; tragic, dithyrambic, and all sorts. And there, I said to myself, you will be detected; now you will find out that you are more ignorant than they are. Accordingly, I took them some of the most elaborate passages in their own writings, and asked what was the meaning of them -- thinking that they would teach me something. Will you believe me? I am almost ashamed to speak of this, but still I must say that there is hardly a person present who would not have talked better about their poetry than they did themselves. That showed me in an instant that not by wisdom do poets write poetry, but by a sort of genius and inspiration; they are like diviners or soothsayers who also say many fine things, but do not understand the meaning of them. And the poets appeared to me to be much in the same case; and I further observed that upon the strength of their poetry they believed themselves to be the wisest of men in other things in which they were not wise. So I departed, conceiving myself to be superior to them for the same reason that I was superior to the politicians.

At last I went to the artisans, for I was conscious that I knew nothing at all, as I may say, and I was sure that they knew many fine things; and in this I was not mistaken, for they did know many things of which I was ignorant, and in this they certainly were wiser than I was. But I observed that even the good artisans fell into the same error as the poets; because they were good workmen they thought that they also knew all sorts of high matters, and this defect in them overshadowe d their wisdom -- therefore I asked myself on behalf of the oracle, whether I would like to be as I was, neither having their knowledge nor their ignorance, or like them in both; and I made answer to myself and the oracle that I was better off as I was.

As a result of this program of inquiry, men of Athens, I have acquired much emnity, of the most bitter and burdensome kind, with the consequence that I am much slandered, and I have the reputation of being wise. But the truth is, O men of Athens, that God only is wise; and in this oracle he means to say that the wisdom of men is little or nothing; he is not speaking of Socrates, he is only using my name as an illustration, as if he said, He , O men, is the wisest, who, like Socrates, knows that his wisdom is in truth worth nothing. And so I go my way, obedient to the god, and make inquisition into the wisdom of anyone, whether citizen or stranger, who appears to be wise; and if he is not wise, then in vindication of the oracle I show him that he is not wise; and this occupation quite absorbs me, and I have no time to give either to any public matter of interest or to any concern of my own, but I am in utter poverty by reason of my devotion to the god.

There is another thing: -- young men of the richer classes, who have not much to do, come about me of their own accord; they like to hear the pretenders examined, and they often imitate me, and examine others themselves; there are plenty of persons, as they soon enough discover, who think that they know something, but really know little or nothing: and then those who are examined by them instead of being angry with themselves are angry with me: This confounded Socrates, they say; this villainous misleader of youth! -- and then if somebody asks them, Why, what evil does he practice or teach? they do not know, and cannot tell; but in order that they may not appear to be at a loss, they repeat the ready-made charges which are used against all philosophers about teaching things up in the clouds and under the earth, and having no gods, and making the worse appear the better cause; for they do not like to confess that their pretence of knowledge has been detected -- which is the truth: and as they are numerous and ambitious and energetic, and are all in battle array and have persuasive tongues, they have filled your ears with their loud and inveterate calumnies.

....

Someone will say: And are you not ashamed, Socrates, of a course of life which is likely to bring you to an untimely end? I would give a just answer and say, "you are wrong, fellow, if you suppose that a man who is good or anything at all ought to calculate the chances of life and death rather than consider this, and this alone, whnever he acts:  wheter he is acting justly or unjustly and whether his actions are those of a good man or a bad one. . .

I should have done something terrible, men of Athens if, when my superior officers, whom you chose as my commanders, assigned me to my post at Potidaea, at Amphipolis, and at Delium, I then had stood my ground where they posted me and braved death like anyone else, but,  when the god was posting me, as I thought and supposed, bidding me pass my life in philosophizing and in examining myself and the rest of mankind, I should be struck with fear of death or anything else and leave my post.  It would be terrible; and then in truth someone might justly drag me into court, charging me with not believing in gods, since I do not obey the oracle, and fear death, and think I am wise though I am not. For, gentlemen, to fear death is precisely to think onself wise though one is  not; it is to think that one knows what one does not know.  For no one knows whether death is the greatest of all good things for a man; but men fear it as if they knew for certain that it is the greatest of bad things.  Surely this that disgraceful form of ignorance, thinking one knows what one does not.  And this is the point in which, as I think, I am superior to men in general, and in which I might perhaps fancy myself wiser than other men. . .

For I do nothing but go about persuading you all, old and young alike, not to take thought for your persons and your properties, but first and chiefly to care about the greatest improvement of the soul. I tell you that virtue is not given by money, but that from virtue come money and every other good of man, public as well as private. This is my teaching, and if this is the doctrine which corrupts the youth, my influence is ruinous indeed. But if anyone says that this is not my teaching, he is speaking an untruth. . .

Perhaps someone will say, "Why cannot you withdraw from Athens, Socrates, and hold your peace?"  It is the most difficult thing in the world to make you understand why I cannot do that.  If I say that I cannot hold my peace because that would be to disobey the God, you will think that I am not in earnest and will not believe me.  And if I tell you that no greater good can happen to a man than to discuss human excellence every day and the other matters about which yo have heard me  arguing and examining myself and others, and that an unexamined life is not worth living, then you will believe me still less.  But that is so, my friends. . .