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Socrates goes back to an issue raised in chapter four, the exclusion of poetry from the ideal community. He wants this, he says, as “the whole genre of poetry deforms its audience’s minds” (344). What is his justification for this claim? First, he argues that poetry is twice removed from the truth. There is a hierarchy of connections to reality. For example, there is the ideal form of a bed, which is singular and made by God. Next are the forms we encounter with our senses in the real world. For example, there are the multiple variations of different beds made by artisans that we use every day. Lastly, there is the representation of these objects, for instance via writing in a poem or in a painting. These representations are the furthest from true reality and are, to Socrates, useless.
Socrates considers the counterargument that “a good poet must understand the issues he writes about” (349). His response appeals to utility. If this claim were true, he argues, Homer’s poetry must have had a positive use in the fields of warfare, tactics, politics, or human education, as various philosophers have had. Alternatively, his personality or life must have inspired others, as did Pythagoras’. Since they did not, there is no evidence that when the “musical hues” (352) of poetry is removed that poets understand their subjects in a way that matters to others.
Socrates has a second major criticism. Not only does poetry not give us proper access to the truth, but it also undermines reason. It does so by promoting the emotional side of ourselves at the expense of the rational. Our emotions, as well as our desires, are enflamed and encouraged when we see representations in art that evoke heightened responses. For example, Homer valorises and aestheticizes grief. We then feel legitimised in indulging in our own grief when circumstances provoke it. Thus, poetry diminishes reason and morality. Nevertheless, Socrates does hold out an olive branch. If anyone can convincingly show that poetry brings other benefits than “mere pleasure” (362) he will reassess it.
Socrates prefaces a discussion about the external rewards of morality with an argument that “our mind is immortal and never dies” (363). This will be needed for subsequent claims about the rewards for goodness in the afterlife. His argument begins with the claim that everything is always destroyed by a “special defect” (365) internal to it. One thing cannot be destroyed by the defect of another entity. For example, the body’s unique defect is illness, and only this can kill it. If bad food or an accident are said to be the cause of its’ destruction this is merely a way of speaking. Such things may provoke the “illness,” but it is internal processes in the body which ultimately lead to death. The specific defect of the mind is immorality. However, immorality, no matter how bad, can never destroy the mind. Since the mind cannot be destroyed by any defect external or internal to it, it must be immortal.
Having set aside the issue of morality’s earthly rewards, Socrates now examines them. He says that the God’s will always ensures that moral men prosper, and immoral men fail. This is true even if for short periods of time it may appear otherwise. The same is true in relation to society. People who are moral will ultimately be rewarded for their behaviour by others, who will come to notice their good character. Conversely, even if immoral people sometimes deceive others about their character at first, they will be found out in the end. They will then be subject to misery and punishment in old age.
Socrates finally discusses the rewards for moral conduct in the afterlife. He tells story of a warrior called Er who dies in battle but is resurrected on his funeral pyre twelve days later. Er had in that time travelled to the world of the dead and witnessed what happened to the souls there. Good people were amply rewarded for their deeds on earth. However, those who had been immoral suffered terribly in the underworld. Finally, all souls returned to the same place in front of the fates, who were seated on thrones. There they could choose from an almost infinite number of possible lives. What they chose determined the next life they would lead on earth.
Having spent most of The Republic arguing that there is an intrinsic value to morality and that it is its own reward, Socrates now states that it also has external benefits. As he says, “moral people can, in later life, have political power in their own communities, if they want, can marry women from any families they want” and “can have their children marry whomever they want” (370). Nor do the rewards stop there. In the afterlife, moral people have “only wonderful experiences and incredibly beautiful sights to recount” (372). And they are repaid “ten times” (372) for every good or just deed. Is this backsliding? If Socrates is convinced that morality brings happiness regardless of any external benefit, then why introduce this? Why try luring people to act morally with promised riches? Indeed, if Socrates’ previous argument about morality is right, such incitements would not only be unnecessary but they would also threaten a key goal of The Republic. Namely, to establish that genuine, pure morality is possible at all. For if we knew that every moral action would be rewarded, both here and in the “hereafter,” it is not clear we would pursue it for its own value.
These promises also force Socrates to compromise on his commitment to reason. The least egregious way concerns his argument for the soul’s immortality. This is necessary to establish the possibility of an afterlife. He says that since “the mind can’t be exterminated by its specific defect and destroyed by its specific affliction, it’s hardly likely that a defect which is designed for the destruction of something else is going to destroy the mind” (366). That is, things can only be destroyed by an “affliction” specific to them. However, the mind cannot be destroyed by its specific affliction, which is immorality. Hence, the mind cannot be destroyed by anything and lives forever. Yet this is one of the weakest arguments in The Republic. For one thing, the first premise is dubious. Things may be destroyed in many instances by some internal decay or disintegration specific to them. But they can also be destroyed by external and multiple causes. For example, a body can be destroyed by fire, drowning, blunt force, and a variety of poisons. To say that all of these are really the same “illness” is fallacious. It holds up only through the tautologous stipulation wherein “illness” is defined as “anything that destroys the body.”
Then there is the point about immorality. Immorality may well be thought of as a defect of the mind, having a deleterious effect on one’s character. It is not the only such defect though. Mental illnesses, such as schizophrenia or dementia, which have little relation to morals, can also harm and undermine the mind. Indeed, the example of mental illness seems to directly refute Plato’s conclusion. For it can, in extreme cases, destroy the mind entirely. While the discipline of psychiatry did not exist in Plato’s day, he must still have been aware of people individuals whose reason and sense of identity deteriorated so far that they were no longer recognisably the same person as they had been.
Secondly, he relies on a myth. Having just dismissed poets from the ideal community for subverting reason, he uses a literary form to assert something which cannot be rationally proven: that there is an afterlife. He does this through the story of Er. This is the myth of this warrior’s death, journey to the underworld, and eventual resurrection. Nevertheless, this story does have a redeeming element. Part of the account Er gives of the “hereafter” is that, after being punished or rewarded, everyone must choose the life they will be reincarnated into. This is from amongst all possible types and variations. So, this could be anything from the life of a beggar to a king’s or dictator’s. The twist is that no one can know in advance which life will be happiest. Thus, Socrates says, it is imperative that in this life everyone tries acquiring “the competence and knowledge to distinguish a good one from a bad one” (376). That is, it is imperative, for our future as well as present happiness, that we study philosophy and pursue the good. For only this will allow us to choose a life full of genuine and meaningful happiness.
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By Plato