#simonides

Socrates: The Philosophical Midwife

Socrates (c. 469/470–399 BCE) was an Athenian philosopher who wrote nothing himself. He lived between approximately 470 and 399 BCE and devoted his life to questioning fellow citizens about virtue, justice, knowledge, and the good life. His method of persistent questioning—now called the Socratic method—aimed not to transmit knowledge but to expose false beliefs and stimulate genuine understanding. Born to a sculptor and a midwife, Socrates famously compared his philosophical practice to midwifery: helping others give birth to ideas.

Rejecting wealth, political power, and conventional success, Socrates emphasized moral self-examination above all else. He claimed no wisdom of his own, asserting that his only knowledge was awareness of his ignorance. This stance distinguished him from the Sophists, who charged fees for instruction and often claimed expertise. Socrates’ relentless questioning of powerful figures and social norms earned him both admiration and resentment, ultimately leading to his trial and execution by hemlock on charges of impiety and corrupting the youth. His death became a lasting symbol of philosophical integrity and devotion to truth. In The Republic, Socrates serves as Plato’s mouthpiece for exploring justice, the ideal state, and the structure of the human soul.

Book I: Three Conceptions of Justice

Book I of The Republic presents three major arguments concerning the nature of justice, each associated with a different character: Cephalus, Polemarchus, and Thrasymachus.

Socrates and Cephalus

Cephalus is a wealthy, elderly metic (foreigner) originally from Syracuse, invited to Athens by the statesman Pericles. He amassed his fortune through a shield factory in the Piraeus, allowing him a life of comfort and leisure. In the dialogue, Cephalus represents traditional Greek morality, rooted in religious piety, honesty, and respect for established customs. His understanding of justice is practical rather than philosophical, focused on living honorably and avoiding punishment in the afterlife. When the discussion becomes abstract, he politely withdraws, reflecting a worldview shaped by tradition rather than critical inquiry.

Cephalus argues that the greatest benefit of wealth is that it allows a just person to avoid cheating or lying. Because he is financially secure, he does not need to defraud others and can repay his debts to both gods and men. From this, he implies that justice consists in telling the truth and paying what one owes.

Socrates challenges this definition with a counterexample: is it just to return a borrowed weapon to a friend who has gone mad? The obvious answer—no—demonstrates that justice cannot be reduced to rigid rules of truth-telling and repayment. Moral judgment must consider circumstances, and Cephalus’ definition proves inadequate.

Socrates and Polemarchus

After Cephalus leaves, his son Polemarchus takes over the discussion. Polemarchus, the brother of the orator Lysias, was a young Athenian aristocrat active in civic life. He is portrayed as loyal, earnest, and confident in inherited moral beliefs, particularly regarding friendship and loyalty. Historically, Polemarchus was executed without trial during the reign of the Thirty Tyrants in 404 BCE, largely so the regime could seize his family’s property.

Polemarchus cites the poet Simonides, defining justice as “giving to each what is owed to him.” Through Socrates’ questioning, this idea is refined into the claim that justice consists in benefiting one’s friends and harming one’s enemies.

Socrates challenges this view with two major arguments. First, he points out the problem of fallibility. Humans often mistake who their true friends and enemies are, which could lead them to harm good people and help bad ones. Such outcomes cannot be just.

Second, and more decisively, Socrates asks whether it is ever just to harm anyone at all. He argues that harming a person makes them worse with respect to virtue, just as harming a horse makes it worse as a horse. Since justice is a virtue, it cannot produce injustice in others. Therefore, justice cannot involve harming anyone. Polemarchus concedes the point but is left confused, and the definition of justice remains unresolved.

Socrates and Thrasymachus

The final and most confrontational argument in Book I involves Thrasymachus, a Sophist from Chalcedon. Known in antiquity as a skilled rhetorician with an aggressive speaking style, Thrasymachus represents a cynical, power-based view of morality. Sophists charged fees for instruction and often challenged traditional moral assumptions. In The Republic, Thrasymachus embodies a form of political realism in which moral concepts serve the interests of the powerful.

Thrasymachus boldly declares that “justice is nothing other than the advantage of the stronger.” In every city, he argues, the ruling group makes laws that benefit itself. Obedience to these laws is called “justice,” meaning that justice always serves those in power rather than any objective moral good.

Socrates responds in stages. First, he argues that every genuine craft—such as medicine or shepherding—aims at the good of its subject, not the practitioner. A true ruler, properly understood, rules for the benefit of the ruled, not for personal advantage.

Second, Socrates points out that rulers can make mistakes about what is in their own interest. If justice requires obeying rulers, then citizens would sometimes be just by doing what harms the ruler. To escape this problem, Thrasymachus revises his position, claiming that a ruler in the strict sense never errs. Justice, therefore, becomes the advantage of the infallibly stronger.

Finally, Socrates argues that justice is a form of wisdom and virtue, while injustice is ignorance and vice. Even groups of unjust people—such as a band of thieves—must practice some form of justice among themselves to function. Injustice breeds conflict, hatred, and instability, making effective cooperation impossible. From this, Socrates concludes that the tyrant—the most unjust individual—is not happy or powerful in any meaningful sense. Instead, he is fearful, isolated, and miserable, incapable of achieving true fulfillment.