IS ETHICS A MATTER OF KNOWLEDGE

BY

WALLACE H. PROVOST JR.

To be ethical is to be the kind of person who does the right thing at the right time for the right reason. Are such ethical actions the outcome of knowledge? In other words, does a person do an ethical act because of something he knows about it? The outcome perhaps, or the side effects? If we search back into the earliest years of our western heritage, we find that one fundamental belief of the ancient Greeks was that man was a rational animal living in a rational world. One implication of this belief is that it made man the only animal that could understand the world through the use of his reason. As Socrates and Plato saw it, that gave man an awesome responsibility. Since man is rational his purpose for being in the world must be rational. Therefore right actions were right because they were determined through rational thought. For Socrates this meant reasoning through dialectical argument, through the give and take of men committed to thinking rationally. However, there is a fundamental problem which a dialectical argument concerning ethical actions must overcome. That problem is that moral concepts do not lend themselves to rational argument. Socrates most famous student, Plato, believed that ethics, or as the Greeks put it, virtue, was knowledge. At the same time he was cognizant of the problem of proving it through rational argument. In the dialog "Euthyphro," Plato brought the problem out in the open where it could be examined. When the "Euthyphro" opens Socrates was shown talking outside the Athenian "Hall of the King", where the magistrate adjudicates complaints against the state religion. He was about to face the Athenian 500 on charges of impiety, the charge that was to lead to his death by hemlock. The young man he was talking to was Euthyphro, who was noted for his knowledge of religious laws and traditions. Euthyphro told Socrates that he was bringing a charge against his own father, a charge of murder. The argument concerns the meaning of the term piety. However, very much the same kind of arguments can be made concerning any moral concept, justice for example, or courage. We begin our look at the "Euthyphro" immediately after the young man has told Socrates that he was there to bring a charge of murder against his own father.

Socr. Was the man your father killed a relative of yours? But of course, he was. You would never have prosecuted your father for the murder of a stranger?

Euth. You amuse me, Socrates. What difference does it make whether the murdered man were a relative or a stranger? The only question you have to ask is, did the murderer kill justly or not? If justly, you must let him alone; if unjustly you must indict him for murder, even though he share your hearth and sit at your table. The pollution is the same if you associate with such a man, knowing what he has done, without purifying yourself, and him too, by bringing him to justice. In the present case the murdered man was a poor laborer of mine, who worked for us on our farm in Naxos. While drunk he got angry with one of our slaves and killed him. My father therefore bound the man hand and foot and threw him into a ditch, while he sent to Athens to ask a priest what he should do. While the messenger was gone he entirely neglected the man, thinking that he was a murderer, and that it would be no great matter, even if he were to die. And that was exactly what happened; hunger and cold and his bonds killed him before the messenger returned. And now my father and the rest of the family are indignant with me because I am prosecuting my father for the murder of this murderer. They assert that he did not kill the man at all; and they say that even if he had killed him over and over again, the man himself was a murderer, and that I ought not to concern myself about such a person because it is impious for a son to prosecute his father for murder. So little, Socrates, do they know of the divine law of piety and impiety.

Notice that all ethical concepts are linked. In this case there is a linkage between piety and justice. It is important too that we see that in this dialog Plato treats ethical concepts as though they were entities on their own. This treatment makes the act itself wrong regardless of the circumstances surrounding it. At the turn of the twentieth century G. E. Moore labeled this the "Naturalistic Fallacy." We will examine the reasoning behind that later. The question concerning whether we can say that there is or there is not an entity we can label "Piety" or "Justice," or any other ethical concept is too complex a question to be answered in the terms available to ancient Greeks. However, the problem is particularly important to the argument between Socrates and Euthyphro. If ethics is knowledge, as Plato believed it to be, and as anyone who wishes to attach definitions to ethical terms must believe, then it must be something that can be known.

Socr. And do you mean to say, Euthyphro, that you think that you understand divine things and piety and impiety so accurately that, in such a case as you have stated, you can bring your father to justice without fear that you yourself may be doing something impious?

The problem is of particular importance to Socrates because he is about to face the jury on just such a charge. Euthyphro, being an acknowledged expert in these affairs, should be offering him a way out of his dilemma. Thus Socrates pushed him for a clear and less ambiguous definition of piety and impiety.

Socr. Tell me, then, what is piety and what is impiety?

Euth. Well, then, I say that piety means prosecuting the unjust individual who has committed murder or sacrilege, or any other such crime, as I am doing now, whether he is your father or your mother or whoever he is; and I say that impiety means not prosecuting him. And observe, Socrates, I will give you a clear proof, which I have already given to others, that it is so, and that doing right means not letting off unpunished the sacrilegious man, whosoever he may be. Men hold Zeus to be the best and the most just of the gods; and they admit that Zeus bound his own father, Cronos, for wrongfully devouring his children; and that Cronos, in his turn, castrated his father for similar reasons. And yet these same men are incensed with me because I proceed against my father for doing wrong. So you see, they say one thing in the case of the gods and quite another in mine.

Socr. Is not that why I am being prosecuted, Euthyphro? I mean, because I find it hard to accept such stories people tell about the gods? I expect that I shall be found fault because I find fault with these stories. Now if you who understand all these matters so well agree in holding all those tales true, then I suppose that I must yield to your authority. What could I say when I admit myself that I know nothing about them? But tell me, in the name of friendship, do you really believe that these things have actually happened?

Euth. Yes, Socrates, and more amazing things too, Socrates, which the multitude do not know of. Socr. Then you really believe that there is war among the gods, and bitter hatreds, and battles, such as the poets tell of, and which the great painters have depicted in our temples, notably in the pictures which cover the robe that is carried up to the Acropolis at the great Panathenic festival? Are we to say that these things are true Euthyphro?

The state Gods in fourth century Greece represented two things to the Greek people. First they represented the powers of the universe. This was the rational view that was becoming more popular. Second, they formed the characters in morality stories. This was the irrational element that formed much of the cultural memories of the people. Plato's school, as did Socrates before him, represented the rational view. The decline of the power of the irrational at the time of Plato allowed him to make such derogatory statements concerning the stories of the Gods.

Euth. Yes, Socrates, and more besides. As I was saying, I will report to you many other stories about divine matters, if you like, which I am sure will astonish you when you hear them.

Socr. I dare say. You shall report them to me at your leisure another time. At present please try to give a more definite answer to the question which I asked you just now. What I asked you, my friend, was, what is piety? And you have not explained it to me to my satisfaction. You only tell me that what you are doing now, namely, prosecuting your father for murder, is a pious act.

It is typical that many problems in ethical discussions revolve around specific acts which are purported to be or not to be moral rather than the meaning of the terms themselves. Most people believe they have clear standards of moral behavior, but to describe to anyone else exactly what the criteria is that makes them moral often exceeds the capability of the individual. If Piety, Justice, Courage, and all other ethical concepts are entities in themselves that can be known, then one should be able to clearly define what is right and what is wrong through the application of clear criteria.

Socr. Well, then, explain to me what is this characteristic that I may have it to turn to, and to use as a standard whereby to judge your actions and those of other men, and be able to say that whatever actions resemble it is pious and whatever does not is not pious.

Euth. Yes, I will tell you that if you wish, Socrates.

Socr. Certainly I do.

Euth. Well, then, what is pleasing to the gods is pious and what is not pleasing to them is impious.

Socr. Come, then lets examine our statement. The things and the men who are pleasing to the gods are pious and the things and the men that are displeasing to the gods are impious. But piety and impiety are not the same; they are as opposite as is possible--was that not what we said?

Euth. Certainly.

Socr. Have we not also said, Euthyphro, that there are quarrels and disagreements and hatreds among the gods?

Euth. We have.

Socr. But what kind of a disagreement, my friend, causes hatred and anger? Let us look at the matter thus. If you and I were to disagree as to whether one number were more than another, would that make us angry and enemies? Should we not settle such a dispute at once by counting?

Euth. Of course.

Socr. And if we were to disagree as to the relative size of two things, we should measure them and put an end to the disagreement at once, should we not?

Euth. Yes.

Socr. And should we not settle a question about the relative weight of two things by weighing them?

Euth. Of course.

Socr. Then what is the question which would make us angry and enemies if we disagreed about it, and could not come to a settlement? Perhaps you have not an answer ready; but listen to mine. Is it not the question of the just and the unjust, of the honorable and the dishonorable, of the good and the bad? Is it not questions about these matters which make you and me and everyone else quarrel, when we do quarrel, if we differ about them and can reach no satisfactory agreement?

Euth. Yes, Socrates, it is disagreements about these matters.

Socr. Well, Euthyphro, the gods will quarrel over these things, if they quarrel at all, will they not?

Euth. necessarily.

Socr. Then, my good Euthyphro, you say that some of the gods think one thing just, the others another; and that what some of them hold to be honorable and good, others hold to be dishonorable or evil. For there would not have been any quarrels among them if they had not disagreed on these points, would there?

Euth. You are right.

Socr. And each of them loves what he thinks is honorable, and good, and just; and hates the opposite, does he not?

Euth. Certainly

Socr. But you say that the same action is held by some of them to be just and by others to be unjust; and that they dispute about it, and so quarrel and fight among themselves, is this not so?

Euth. Yes.

This argument points out a important distinction between moral and amoral concepts. Amoral concepts are simply true or false and one can refer to definitions and authorities to determine which. Moral arguments, on the other hand are not derived from observation. One cannot point out that they are true or false. Unless, that is, they can be reduced to clear definitions.

Socr. Then the same thing is hated by the gods and loved by them; and the same thing will be displeasing and pleasing to them.

Euth. Apparently.

Socr. Then according to your account the same thing will be pious and impious.

Euth. So it seems.

Socr. Then, my good friend, you have not answered my question.

This point of view makes the meaning of piety hinge on the meanings of moral terms such as justice, honor, and the good. And we can see that even if we acknowledge that Plato is making an implied slander against the traditional religion by forcing Euthyphro to repeat that the gods disagree like ordinary humans concerning the meaning s of these terms, it is obvious that moving from term to term does not result in understandable definitions. Thus he returned to the basics of the argument, the meaning of piety and impiety.

Socr. We shall know that better in a little while, my good friend. Now consider this question. Do the gods love piety because it is pious, or is it pious because they love it?

Euth. I do not understand you, Socrates.

Socr. I will try to explain myself; we speak of a thing being carried and carrying, and being led and leading, and being seen and seeing; and you understand that all such expressions mean different things, and what the difference is.

Euth. Yes, I think I understand.

Socr. And we talk of thing being loved, of a thing loving, and the two are different?

Euth. Of course.

Socr. Now tell me, is a thing which is being carried in a state of being carried because it is carried, or for some other reason?

Euth. No, because it is carried.

Socr. And a thing is in the state of being led because it is led, and of being seen because it is seen?

Euth. Certainly.

Socr. Then a thing is not seen because it is in the state of being seen: it is in the state of being seen because it is seen; and a thing is not led because it is the state of being led: it is in the state of being led because it is led; and a thing is not carried because it is in the state of being carried: it is in the state of being carried because it is carried. Is my meaning clear now, Euthyphro? I mean this: if anything becomes or is affected, it does not become because it is the state of becoming: it is in the state of becoming because it becomes; and it is not affected because it is in the state of being affected: it is in the state of being affected because it is affected. Do you not agree?

Euth. I do.

In Plato's concept of dialectical argument, the proper use of language is extremely important. Since such argument implies the application of reasoning, the terms must be made clear. Plato realized that language, as it is used in normal conversation, lacked the preciseness required for pure logical development. He felt that it was important that the meanings being applied by the participants be clearly recognized.

Socr. Is not that which is being loved in a state either of becoming or of being affected in some way by something?

Euth. Certainly.

Socr. Then the same is true here as in the former cases. A thing is not loved by those who love it because it is the state of being loved; it is in the state of being loved because they love it.

Euth. Necessarily.

Socr. Well, then, Euthyphro, what do we say about piety? Is it not loved by all the gods, according to your definition?

Euth. Yes.

Socr. Because it is pious, or for some other reason?

Euth. No, because it is pious.

Socr. Then it is loved by the gods because it is pious; it is not pious because it is loved by them?

Euth. It seems so.

Socr. But, then, what is pleasing to the gods is pleasing to them, and is in the state of being loved by them because they love it?

Euth. Of course.

Socr. Then piety is not what is pleasing to the gods, and what is pleasing to the gods is not pious, as you say, Euthyphro, they are different things.

Euth. Well, then, Socrates, I should say that righteousness and piety are that part of justice which has to do with the careful attention which ought to be paid to the gods; and that what has to do with the careful attention which ought to be paid to men is the remaining part of justice.

Socr. And I think that your answer is a good one, Euthyphro. But there is one little point about which I still want to hear more. I do not yet understand what the careful attention is to which you refer. I suppose you do not mean that the attention which we pay to the gods is like the attention we pay to other things. We say, for instance, do we not, that not everyone knows how to take care of horses, but only the trainer of horses?

Euth. Certainly.

Socr. For I suppose that the skill that is concerned with horses is the art of taking care of horses.

Euth. yes

Socr. And not everyone understands the care of dogs, but only the huntsman.

Euth. True.

Socr. For I suppose that the huntsman's skill is the art of taking care of dogs.

Euth. Yes.

Socr. And the herdsman's skill is the art of taking care of cattle.

Euth. certainly.

Socr. And you say that piety and righteousness are taking care of the gods, Euthyphro?

Euth. I do.

Socr. Well. then, has not all care the same object? Is it not for the good and benefit of that on which it is bestowed? For instance, you see that horses are benefitted and improved when they are cared for by the art which is concerned with them. Is it not so?

Euth. Yes, I think so.

Socr. And dogs are benefitted and improved by the huntsman's art, and cattle by the herdsman's, are they not? And the same is always true. Or do you think care is ever meant to harm that which is cared for?

Euth. No indeed, certainly not.

Socr. But to benefit it?

Euth. Of course.

Socr. Then is piety, which is our care for the gods, intended to benefit the gods, or to improve them? Should you allow that you make any of the gods better when you do a pious action?

Euth. No indeed, certainly not.

Socr. No, I am quite sure that is not your meaning, Euthyphro. It was for that reason that I asked what you meant by the careful attention which ought to be paid to the gods. I thought you did not mean that.

Euth. You were right, Socrates, I did not mean that.

Socr. Good, then what sort of attention to the gods will piety be?

Euth. The sort of attention, Socrates, that slaves pay to their masters.

Socr. I understand; then it is a kind of service to the gods?

Euth. Certainly

Socr. Can you tell my what result the art which serves a doctor serves to produce? Is it not health?

Euth. Yes.

Socr. And what result does the art which serves a shipwright serve to produce?

Euth. A ship, of course, Socrates.

Socr. The result of the art which serves a builder is a house, is it not?

Euth. Yes.

Socr. Then tell me, my good friend: what result will the art which serves the gods serve to produce? You must know, seeing that you say you know more about divine things that any other man.

Euth. Well, that is true, Socrates.

Socr. Then tell me, I beg you, what is that grand result which the gods use our services to produce?

Euth. There are many notable results, Socrates.

Socr. So are those which a general produces. Yet it is easy to see that the crowning result of them all is victory in way, is it not?

Euth. Of course.

Socr. And, I take it, the farmer produces many notable results; yet the principle result of them all is that he makes the earth produce food.

Euth. Certainly.

Socr. Well, then what is the principle result of the many notable results which the gods produce?

Euth. I told you just now, Socrates, that accurate knowledge of all of these matters is not easily obtained. However, broadly I say this: if any man knows that his words and actions in prayer and sacrifice are acceptable to the gods, that is what is pious; and it preserves the state, as it does private families. But the opposite of what is acceptable to the gods is sacrilegious, and this it is that undermines and destroys everything.

Socr. Certainly, Euthyphro, if you had wished you could have answered my main question in far fewer words. But you are evidently not anxious to teach me. Just now, when you were on the very point of telling me what I want to know, you stopped short. If you had gone on then, I should have learned from you clearly enough by this time what piety is. But now I am asking you questions, and must follow wherever you lead me; so tell me, what is it that you mean by piety and impiety? Do you not mean a science of prayer and sacrifice?

Euth. I do.

Socr. To sacrifice is to give to the gods and to pray is to ask of them, is it not?

Euth. It is, Socrates.

Socr. Then you say that piety is the science of asking of the gods and giving to them?

Euth. You understand my meaning exactly, Socrates.

Socr. Yes, for I am eager to share your wisdom, Euthyphro, and so I am all attention; nothing that you say will fall to the ground. But tell me, what is this service of the gods? You say it is to ask of them and to give to them?

Euth. I do.

Socr. Then to ask rightly will be to ask of them what we stand in need of from them, will it not?

Euth. Naturally.

Socr. And to give rightly will be to give back to them what they stand in need of from us? It would not be very skillful to make a present to a man of something he has no need of.

Euth. True, Socrates.

Socr. Then piety, Euthyphro, will be the art of carrying on business between gods and men.

Euth. Yes, if you like to call it so.

Socr. But I like nothing except what is true. But tell me, how are the gods benefitted by the gifts which they receive from us? What they give is plain enough. Every good thing that we have is their gift. But how are they benefitted by what we give them? Have we the advantage over them in these business transactions to such an extent that we receive from them all the good things we possess and give them nothing in return?

Euth. But do you suppose, Socrates, that the gods are benefitted by the gifts they receive from us?

Socr. But what are these gifts, Euthyphro, that we give the gods.

Euth. What do you think but honor and praise, and, as I have said, what is acceptable to them.

Socr. Then piety, Euthyphro, is acceptable to the gods, but it is not profitable to them nor loved by them?

Euth. I think nothing is more loved by them.

Socr. Then I see that piety means that which is loved by the gods.

Euth. Most certainly.

Socr. After that, shall you be surprised to find that your statements move about instead of staying where you put them?

And so we see that Euthyphro's argument has come about in a full circle. It is no wonder that at this point he suddenly remembered an errand he was supposed to attend to. This argument is inconclusive, the best it can show us is the difficulty that must be overcome if we are to show that ethics is a matter of knowledge. Plato, of course, staunchly maintained this. And he defended it in the dialogue "Protagoras".

The questions that were pondered in Plato's Protagoras were; is virtue knowledge, and can virtue be taught. Protagoras' position was that virtue and knowledge are different things and that virtue can be taught. Socrates, on the other hand, held that virtue is knowledge, but that it could not be taught. Keep in mind that Protagoras and the other Sophists claimed to be teaching virtue, thus the outcome of the argument was not trivial to them. The best way to see the two points of view clearly is to look directly at the argument. First we can look at Socrates' case for virtue as knowledge.

Socrates; Do you think then that a man would be living well who passed his life in pain and vexation?

Protagoras; No.

Socrates; Then to live pleasurably is good, to live painfully bad?

Protagoras; Yes, if one's pleasure is in what is honorable.

Socrates; What's this, Protagoras? Surely you don't follow the common opinion that some pleasures are bad and some pains good? I mean to say, in so far as they are pleasant, are they not also good, leaving aside any consequence that they may entail? And in the same way pains, in so far as they are pleasant are they not also good, leaving aside any consequences that they may entail? And in the same way pains, in so far as they are painful bad?

Protagoras; I'm not sure Socrates, whether I ought to give an answer as unqualified as your question suggested and say that everything pleasant is good, and everything painful evil. But with a view not only to my present answer but to the whole rest of my life, I believe it is safest to reply that there are some pleasures which are not good and some pains which are not evil, others on the other hand which are, and a third class which are neither evil not good.

Plato's idea of the "Good" was unique. He said that the "Good" was what illuminated what was good in the same way that the sun illuminates what is visible. This makes "Good" an abstract concept. In this sense good is a term we use to designate some particular thing to be one of the class of things that we recognize as being desirable, proper, right, etc. We recognize them, Plato maintained, because they have been illuminated, brought to our realization, by the Good. Thus, if we see the problem in this sense we cannot deny what Plato implies, that pleasures, being desirable, are thus good. Many more modern ethical philosophers have made this point. That there is something good about an action simply because it is pleasurable and something evil about an action simply because it is painful. Few have given as clear and powerful an argument as Plato did why pleasure and pain, though they are good and evil in themselves, do not automatically lead to good and evil.

Socrates; Meaning by pleasure, what partakes of pleasure or gives it?

Protagoras; Certainly.

Socrates; My question then is, whether they are not, qua pleasant, good. I am asking in fact whether pleasure itself is not a good thing.

Protagoras; Let us, as you are so fond of saying yourself, investigate the question; then if the proposition we are examining seems reasonable, and pleasant and good appear identical, we shall agree on it. If not, that will be the time to differ.

Socrates; Good. Will you lead the inquiry or should I?

We cannot ignore the difference between Plato's statement and that of Protagoras. Plato said that the pleasant simply due to the fact that it is pleasant is good. What Protagoras said was that this implied that pleasant and good are the same. It is obvious that the statement of Protagoras cannot be implied from that of Socrates. Since this is a rational argument we cannot set that aside.

Protagoras; It is for you to take the lead since you introduced the subject.

The Socratic method of inquiry, which Plato learned from his master, uses dialectical argument to bring out inner hidden meanings behind propositions. Socrates never wrote things down because he felt that it is only through live communication, person to person, that understanding can be brought out. He believed that his method of teaching was to bring out knowledge that already existed in the mind of his adversary. In other words he believed that all knowledge has existed since eternity in the mind of every man. All that was necessary was for the right kinds of questions to be asked so that knowledge hidden deep in the individual could be brought out where he could use and understand it.

Socrates; I wonder then, if we can make it clear to ourselves like this. If a man were trying to judge, by external appearance, of another's health or some particular physical function, he might look at his face and hands and then say: "Let me see your chest and back too, so that I may make a more satisfactory examination." Something like this is what I want for our present inquiry. Observing that your attitude to the good and pleasant is what you say, I want to go on something like this: Now uncover another part of your mind, Protagoras. What is your attitude to knowledge? Do you share the common view about that also? Most people think, in general terms, that it is nothing strong, no leading or ruling element. They don't see it like that. They hold that it is not the knowledge that a man possess that governs him, but something else --now passion, now pleasure, now pain, sometimes love, and frequently fear. They think of knowledge as a slave, pushed around by all the other affections. Is this your view too, or would you rather say that knowledge is a fine thing quite capable of ruling a man, and that if he can distinguish good from evil, nothing will force him to act otherwise than as knowledge dictates, since wisdom is all the reinforcement he needs.

Protagoras; Not only is this my view, but I above all men should think it a shame to speak of wisdom and knowledge as anything but the most powerful elements in human life.

Socrates; Well and truly answered. But I expect you know most men don't believe us. They maintain that there are many who recognize the best but are unwilling to act on it. It may be open to them but they do otherwise. Whenever I ask what can be the reason for this, they answer that those who act this way are overcome by pleasure or pain or some other of the things I mentioned just now.

Protagoras; Well, Socrates, it's by no means uncommon for people to say what is not correct.

Socrates; Then come with me and try to convince them, and show what really happens when they speak of being overcome by pleasure and therefore, though recognizing what is best, failing to do it. If we simply declare: "You are wrong and what you say is false", they will ask us: "If it is not being overcome by pleasure then what can it be? What do you two say it is? Tell us.

Protagoras; But why must we look into the opinions of the common man, who says whatever comes into his head?

Socrates; I believe that it will help us to find out how courage is related to other parts of virtue. So if you are content to keep to our decision, that I should lead the way in whatever direction I think we shall best see the light, then follow me. Otherwise, if you wish, I shall give it up.

Note how skillfully Protagoras is forced to follow Socrates' lead. This method gave Socrates a harsh reputation among powerful Athenians. Inevitably they would be drawn into such arguments and forced unwittingly to renounce their own beliefs. But that is not what Socrates had in mind. Since he believed that each man already has all knowledge buried in his mind, he believed he was leading men to realize pure knowledge they already possessed.

Protagoras; No, you are right. Carry on as you have begun.

Socrates; To return then: If they should ask us: "What is your name for what we call being worsted by pleasure?" I should reply: "Listen, Protagoras and I will try to explain it to you. We take it that you say this happens to you when, for example, you are overcome by desire of food or drink or sex --which are pleasant things--and though you recognize them as evil, nevertheless indulge in them." They would agree. Then we should ask them: "In what respect do you call them evil? Is it because for the moment each of them provides pleasure and is pleasant, or because they lay up for the future disease or poverty or such-like? If they led to none of these things, but produced pure enjoyment, would they nonetheless be evils -- no matter why or how they give enjoyment?" Can we expect any other answer than this, that they are not evil on account of the actual momentary pleasure which they produce, but on account of their consequences, disease and the rest?

By now you should see the direction the argument is going. It is the same with pains. Some pains, such as from physical exercise, lead to long term pleasures. The point he finally made was that every person is motivated by the desire for pleasure and the abhorrence of pain. These things are illuminated by the "Good" and therefore good or evil in themselves. However, if a person has knowledge of the long term consequences of an act, he would know which would lead to evil and which would lead to good. He would choose the long term good and avoid the long term evil even though he knew they would bring momentary pain or pleasure.

Virtue, for Greeks of this period was a measure of a person's tendency to do the right things and avoid the wrong. It also concerned all of the things he does in life and not just those things we consider allied with the virtues today. Therefore virtue is a form of knowledge, a knowledge of ultimate outcomes.

Our western society is based on the idea that man is rational. One implication of this is that if a man knows what actions are best for him to take he will, because of his power of reason, choose to do those actions. In the seventeenth century a Dutch philosopher, Spinoza, put the same idea in more modern terms.

As reason makes no demands contrary to nature, it demands that every man should love himself, should seek that which is useful to him--I mean, that which is really useful to him, should desire everything which really brings man to greater perfection, and should, each for himself, endeavor as far as he can to preserve his own being. This is as necessarily true, as that the whole is greater than the parts.

We can make the implication from both Plato and Spinoza that it is natural for a man to do what he knows is best for him. Therefore, since ethical acts always lead to the best outcomes in the long run being ethical implies the knowledge of outcomes. Spinoza considered this a basic part of a man's nature.

Again, as virtue is nothing else but action in accordance with the laws of ones own nature (IV Def. viii), and as no one endeavors to preserve his own being except in accordance with the laws of his own nature, it follows, first, that the foundation of virtue is the endeavor to preserve ones own being, and that happiness consists in man's power of preserving his own being; secondly, that virtue is to be desired for its own sake, and that there is nothing more excellent or more useful to us, for the sake of which we should desire it; thirdly, and lastly, that suicides are weak-minded, and are overcome by external cause repugnant to their nature.

That leaves us with another thorny problem. Socrates just proved that virtue is knowledge, but he also said that it cannot be taught. Protagoras, on the other hand claimed it was not knowledge at all, but at the same time he claimed that it could be taught. Does this make sense? To understand why it does we need to look closely at Plato's theory of knowledge. Notice that I am turning now from Socrates to Plato. There is a general agreement among scholars that the Socrates in the Protagoras is probably consistent with the Socrates of real life. Beyond that, however, the identification becomes more speculative. We will be looking at the Meno which Plato probably wrote after his first visit to Syracuse and the ideas in it should probably be attributed to Plato rather than Socrates. At least this is the more conservative view. At the end of the Protagoras Socrates finally admitted that he did not know what virtue was. The Meno begins when Meno, a somewhat notorious politician, asked the same question, what is virtue. The argument drifted then to another question, what is knowledge. Then Meno proposed an interesting dilemma. "One can never find out anything new: either one knows it already, in which case there is no need to find it out, or else one does not, and in that case there is no means of recognizing it when found." The way out of this dilemma suggested by Socrates is based on the Pythagorean concept of the immortal soul. If one can never know anything new and at the same time it is certain we are always learning new things, then learning must be a matter of recollection.

In the Meno Plato demonstrated his theory with a young ignorant slave boy. By asking the lad leading questions he was able to show that the boy knew certain mathematical theorems. Plato claimed that before the soul entered the body at birth it existed in another world of pure forms but at birth forgot these. From then on learning was simply a matter of recollecting what one forgot at birth. However, we will not get into that in this work. Remember that if we think of ethical notions as entities in themselves, and we must if we are going to consider ethics a matter of knowledge, then they must be something we discover. But, they are not entities that exist in the physical world. Therefore we must find them elsewhere. In the Republic Plato used these ideas to answer the question, "Is it better to be just."

THRASYMACHUS' CHALLENGE

Listen, then, he said; I proclaim that Justice is nothing else than the interest of the stronger

This is Thrasymachus' challenge. As moral westerners we would like to reject it. But can we. He went on to explain that any government, whether a tyranny, a democracy, or an aristocracy, makes laws for it's own interest, not for the interest of the people. Socrates disagreed. No art or science, he said, considers the interest of the subject. The art of the shepherd is to care for the sheep, the art of the physician is to help the patient, the art of horsemanship is to improve the horses. Thus the art of governing is the improvement of the governed.

Thrasymachus answered that Socrates was wrong. The shepherd is not considering the interest of the sheep, his only concern is for the price of the wool or the value of the meat on his table. the ruler is not concerned with the subjects. He is concerned with the collection of taxes. His laws are to cause the simpler and the weaker to bend to the will of the stronger. The just, he said, is always the loser in comparison with the stronger and the unjust. Consider a partnership. When it breaks up it is always the unjust, the stronger, that will receive more of the proceeds. The unjust too will pay less taxes on the same income than the just. The just man in office who, because he is just, suffers a loss becomes hated by his friends for refusing to serve them in unlawful ways. The highest form of the unjust is the criminal. Criminals, it turns out, are the happiest of men while those that suffer from their misdeeds because they are just are miserable. And what about the most unjust government, tyranny, what about those who by fraud and by force take away the property of others not little but wholesale. Acts which if they were detected singly would result in punishment or disgrace? When a man, besides taking away the money of the citizens has made slaves of them, such a man is termed happy and blessed not only by the citizens, but by all who hear of his having achieved the consummation of justice.

GLAUCON'S CHALLENGE (GYGES RING)

Glaucon, feeling that Thrasymachus had given in to Socrates with too little fight countered with a more devastating challenge. He said that men do not practice justice of their own free will. They practice justice only when they are forced to. Second, he said that the life of the unjust is better than the life of the just. To prove his point he brought up the myth of Gyge's ring.

Now that those who practice justice do so involuntarily and because they have not the power to be unjust will best appear if we imagine something of this kind: having given both to the just and the unjust power to do what they will, let us watch and see where desire will lead them; then we shall discovering the very act the just and the unjust man to be proceeding along the same road, following their interest, which all natures deem to be their good, and are only diverted into the path of justice by the force of law. The liberty we are supposing may be most completely given to them in the form of such a power as is said to have been possessed by Gyges the ancestor of Croesus the Lydian. According to the tradition, Gyges was a shepherd in the service of the king of Lydia; there was a great storm, and an earthquake made an opening in the earth at the place where he was feeding his flock. Amazed at the sight, he descended into the opening, where, among other marvels, he beheld a hollow brazen horse, having doors, at which he stooping and looking in saw a dead body of stature, as appeared to him, more than human, and having nothing on but a gold ring; this he took from the finger of the dead and reascended. Now the shepherds met together, according to custom, that they might send their monthly report about the flocks to the king; into the assembly he came having the ring on his finger, and as he was sitting among them he chanced to turn the collet of the ring inside his hand, when instantly he became invisible to the rest of the company and they began to speak of him as if he were no longer present. He was astonished at this, and again touching the ring he turned the collet outward and reappeared; he made several trials of the ring, and always with the same result --when he turned the collet inward he became invisible, when outward he reappeared. Whereupon he contrived to be chosen one of the messengers who were sent to the court; where as soon as he arrived he seduced the queen, and with her help conspired against the king and slew him, and took the kingdom. Suppose now that there were two such magic rings, and the just put on one of them and the unjust the other; no man can be imagined to be of such iron nature that he would stand fast in justice. No man would keep his hands off what was not his own when he could safely take what he likes out of the market, or go into houses and lie with anyone at his pleasure, or kill or release from prison whom he would, and in all respects be like a god among men. Then the actions of the just would be as the actions of the unjust; they would both come at least to the same point. And this we may truly affirm to be a great proof that a man is just, not willingly or because he thinks justice is any good to him individually, but of necessity, for wherever any one thinks he can safely be unjust there he is unjust. For men believe in their hearts that injustice is far more profitable to the individual than justice.

Glaucon went on to tell what could be implied from these facts. That the unjust man is happier and lives a better life than the just. Given full opportunity to commit unjust acts, even the normally just man would succumb. If not he would live an unhappy life knowing all of the opportunities he has missed.

Now if we are to form a real judgement of the life of the just and the unjust, we must isolate them; there is no other way; and how is this isolation to be effected? I answer: Let the unjust man be entirely unjust, and the just man be entirely just; nothing is to be taken away from either of them, and both are to be perfectly furnished for the work of their respective lives. First, let the unjust be like other distinguished masters of craft; like the skillful pilot or physician, who knows intuitively his own powers and keeps within their limits, and who, if he fails at any point, is able to recover himself. So let the unjust make his unjust attempts in the right way, and lie hidden if he means to be great in his injustice (he who is found out is nobody); for the highest reach of injustice is: to be deemed just when you are not. therefore I say that in the perfectly unjust man we must assume the most perfect injustice; there is to be no deduction, but we must allow him, while doing the most unjust acts, to have acquired the greatest reputation for justice. If he have taken a false step he must be able to recover himself; he must be one who can speak with effect, if any of his deeds come to light, and who can force his way where force is required by his courage and strength, and command of money and friends. And at his side let us place the just man in his nobleness and simplicity, wishing, as Aeschylus says, to be and not to seem good. There must be no seeming, for if he seem to be just he will be honored and rewarded, and then we shall not know whether he is just for the sake of justice or for the sake of honors and rewards; therefore let him be clothed in justice only, and have no other covering; and he must be imagined in the state of life the opposite of the former. Let him be the best of men, and let him be thought the worst; then he will have been put to the proof; and we shall see whether he will be affected by the fear of infamy and its consequences, and let him continue thus until the hour of death; being just and seeming to be unjust. When both have reached the utmost of extreme, the one of justice, the other of injustice, let judgement be given which of them is the happier of the two.

If it is known that a man is just, that he does just acts as a matter of normal routine, he will be treated well and honored. Thus he will live a happy life. But is he being honored because he does just acts? Or is he being honored because people think he does just acts. If the second, then his happiness is not derived from his justice. It is derived from his apparent justice. Therefore, in order that we can determine if in fact a person lives a happy life because he is just and for no other reason, we must consider the man who is perfectly just but who is thought to be unjust. On the other hand, the unjust man must not be known to be unjust or else he will be vilified for what people think of him and not for what he is.

Suppose that we give the power possessed by Gyges ring to two people. One who is absolutely just and the other who is absolutely unjust. Which of the two would live the happier life? Or, if we are to prove Plato's case, can we show that the just man even under these circumstances lives a happier life. However, we are not through yet because Glaucon's brother brought out another problem.

Adeimantus objection

"Parents and tutors" Adiemantus said, "are always telling their sons and their wards that they are to be just; but why? Not for the sake of justice, but for the sake of character and reputation." More is made of appearance by these people than any others. Therefore it is the appearance of justice that is honored and not justice. But still, he went on, we haven't gotten to the root of the matter. He went on;

Once more, Socrates, I will ask you to consider another way of speaking about justice and injustice which is not confined to the poets, but is found in prose writers. The universal voice of mankind is always declaring that justice and virtue are honorable, but grievous and toilsome; and that the pleasures of vice and injustice are easy of attainment, and are only censured by law and opinion. They also say that honesty is for the most part less profitable than dishonesty; and they are quite ready to call the wicked men happy, and to honor them both in public and in private when they are rich or in any other way influential, while they despise and overlook those who may be weak and poor, even though acknowledging them to be better than the others. But most extraordinary of all is their mode of speaking about virtue and the gods: they say that the gods apportion calamity and misery to many good men, and good and happiness to the wicked. And mendicant profits go to rich men's doors and persuade them that they have a power committed to them by gods of making atonement for a man's own or his ancestor's sins by sacrifices and charms, with rejoicing and feasts; and they promise to harm an enemy, whether just or unjust, at a small cost, with magic arts and incantations binding heaven, as they say, to execute their will.

Adeimantus then went on to show additional evidence that the gods could be dissuaded from inflicting penalties on the unjust so that with injustice accompanied by the proper obeisance to the Gods, man can have the best of both worlds. Finally, he went on to back up his brother Glaucon's claims.

For what men say is that, if I am really just and am not also thought just, profit there is none, but the pain and loss on the other hand are unmistakable. But, if though unjust, I acquire the reputation of justice, a heavenly life is promised to me. Since then, as philosophers prove, appearance tyrannizes over truth and is lord of happiness, to appearance I must devote myself.

On what principle, then, shall we any longer choose justice rather than the worst injustice? When, if we only unite the latter with a deceitful regard to appearances, we shall fare to our mind both with gods and men, in life and after death, as the most numerous and the highest authorities tell us. Knowing this, Socrates, how can any man who has any superiority of mind or person or rank or wealth, be willing to honor justice; or indeed to refrain from laughing when he hears justice praised.

The bulk of the Republic is concerned with Plato's description of the ideal state. In his ideal state Plato recognized the need for a division of labor such that each person would be free to do that which he is most adapted for. He also recognized the need for men who would pursue their own interests and thus enrich the state as a whole. But where he found the greatest difficulty was in the rulers and in the military. These, he said, must be a different breed of men. Thus he offered a class of guardians. These would not be allowed to own land so they would not be tempted to use their power to take from others. They would not be allowed to marry to prevent jealousies, and they would be given a rigorous training designed to make them heroic yet just. From this class of guardians the most philosophic would be chosen as the rulers. His purpose is to develop a picture of an ideal state that could be examined with the express intention of showing that such a state would be analogous to an ideal man. In this way by examining the condition of various states including the ideal state one could determine if in fact the unjust man would be happier than the just. So let us skip to the end of the Republic where Plato sums up what he has been developing all this while. He began by going back to the thoroughly unjust man of Glaucon and Adiemantus. His first argument is that since he has shown that the life of a person is much like the life of a state. Since in a state ruled by a despot, the people are miserable, it must be that the despot himself must be have a miserable life.

To sum up, then: this worse type of man is he who behaves in waking life as we said men do in their dreams. The born despot who gains absolute power must come to this, and the longer he lives as a tyrant, the more this character grows upon him.

Inevitably, said Glaucon, who now took his turn to answer.

Now we shall find that the lowest depths of wickedness goes with the lowest depths of unhappiness, and that the misery of the despot is really in proportion to the extent and duration of his power, though the mass of mankind may hold different opinions?

Yes, that much is certain.

It is true, is it not, that each type of individual --the despotic, the democratic, and so on-- resembles the state with the corresponding type of constitution, and will be good and happy in a corresponding degree.

Yes, of course.

In point of excellence, then, how does a state under a despotism compare with the one governed by kings, such as we first described?

They are at opposite extremes: the best and the worst.

I shall not ask which is which, for that is obvious. It is your estimate the same with respect to their degrees of happiness or misery? We must not let our eyes be dazzled by fixing them only on the despot himself and some few of his supporters; we should not decide until we have looked into every corner and inspected the life of the whole community.

That is a fair demand. Everyone must see that a state is most wretched under a despot and happiest under a true king.

And in judging between the corresponding individuals, is it not equally fair to demand the verdict of one who is not dazzled, like a child, by the outward pomp and parade of absolute power, but whose understanding can enter into a man's heart and see all that goes on within? Should we not all do well to listen to such a competent judge, if he had also lived under the same roof and witnessed the despot's behavior, not only in the emergencies of public life, but towards intimates in his own household, where he can best be stripped of his theatrical garb? We might then ask for a report on the happiness or misery of the despot as compared with the rest of the world.

Plato's first argument for the idea that the just man is quite clear. That if you were to know him well so that you could sense the underlying currents in his personality, you would see that he is happier than the unjust man is based on two points. First, that the constitution of a man is much like the constitution of a state. And second, that we can look into a state in more detail because it is larger, and see that in an unjust state the people who make up the state are miserable while in the most just state they are happy. Also, the most just and therefore the most happy state is that ruled by a philosopher king as described in the bulk of the Republic. Next he went on to give a second and more powerful argument why the just man is happier than the unjust man who seems to be just.

Very well, said I; that may stand as one of our proofs. But I want to consider a second one, which can, I think, be based on our division of the soul into three parts, corresponding to the three orders in the state. Each part seems to me to have its own form of pleasure and its peculiar desire; and any one of the three may govern the soul.

How do you mean?

There was the part with which a man gains knowledge and understanding, and another whereby he shows spirit. the third was so multifarious that we could find no single appropriate name; we called it after its chief and most powerful characteristic 'appetite,' because of the intensity of all the appetites connected with eating and drinking and sex and so on. We also called it money-loving because money is the principal means of satisfying desires of this kind. Gain is the source of its pleasures and the object of its affections; so 'money-loving' or 'gain-loving' might be the best single expression to sum up the nature of this part of the soul for the purpose of this discussion.

I agree.

The spirited element, again, we think of as wholly bent upon winning power and victory and a good name. So we might call it honor-loving or ambitious.

Very suitably.

Whereas the part whereby we gain knowledge and understanding is least of all concerned with wealth or reputation. Obviously its soul endeavor is to know the truth, and we may speak of it as loving knowledge or philosophic.

Quite so.

And the human soul is sometimes governed by this principle, sometimes by one of the other two, as the case may be. Hence we recognize three classes of men, the philosophic, the ambitious, and the lovers of gain. So there will also be three corresponding forms of pleasure.

Certainly

Now, if you choose to ask men of these three types, which of their lives is the pleasantest, each in turn will praise his own above the rest. The man of business will say that, as compared with profit-making the pleasures of winning a high reputation or of learning are worthless, except in so far as they bring in money. The ambitious man will despise the pleasure derived from money as vulgar, and the pleasure of learning, if it does not bring fame, as moonshine. The philosopher, again, will think that the satisfaction of knowing the truth and always gaining fresh understanding is beyond all comparisons with those other pleasures, which he will call necessary in the fullest sense; for he would have no use for them, if they were not unavoidable. In this dispute about the pleasures of each class and as to which of the three lives as a whole is not merely better and nobler but actually pleasanter or less painful, how is one to know whose judgement is the truest?

I am not prepared to say.

Well, think of it in this way. What is required for a sound judgement? Can it rest on any better foundation than experience, or insight, or reasoning?

Surely not.

Take experience, then. Which of our three men has the fullest acquaintance with all the pleasures we have mentioned? Has the lover of gain such an understanding of the truth as to know by experience the pleasure of knowledge better than the philosopher knows the pleasure of gain?

No, all the advantage lies with the philosopher, who cannot help experience both the other kinds of pleasure from childhood up; whereas the lover of gain is under no necessity to taste the sweetness of understanding the truth of things; rather he would not find it easy to gain that experience, however hard he should try.

In the experience of both sorts of pleasure, then, the philosopher has the advantage over the lover of gain. How does he compare with the ambitious man? Is he less well acquainted with the pleasures of honor than the other is with the pleasures of wisdom?

No, honor comes to them all, if they accomplish their several purposes; the rich man is esteemed by many people, and so are the brave man and the wise. So the pleasure of being honored is familiar to them all; but only the philosopher can know how sweet it is to contemplate the truth.

Then, so far as experience goes, he is the best judge of the three.

Yes, by far.

And the only one in whom experience is seconded by insight.

Yes.

Further, we agreed that the decision must be reached by means of reasoning; and this is peculiarly the tool of the philosopher, not of the money-lover or of the ambitious man.

No doubt.

Thus, if wealth and profit were the most satisfactory criteria the judgement of the lover of gain would be nearest to the truth; and if honor then the ambitious man would be closer to the truth. However, since the tests are experience, wisdom, and insight the truest values must be those of the philosopher who uses reason for the pursuit of reason. But Plato went on to develop a final argument, that only the pleasures of the intelligence are entirely true, that all others are illusory.

I shall discover the meaning, if you will help me by answering my questions. we speak of pain as the contrary of pleasure. Is there not a neutral state between the two, in which the mind feels neither pleasure not pain, but as it were at rest from both?

Yes.

Well, you must have heard people say, when they are ill, that nothing is pleasanter than to be well, though they never knew it until they were ill; and people in great pain will tell you that relief from pain is the greatest pleasure in the world. there are many such cases in which you find the sufferer saying that the height of pleasure is not positive enjoyment, but the peace which comes with the absence of pain.

Yes; I suppose at such moments the state of rest becomes pleasurable and all that can be desired.

In the same way, then, when enjoyment comes to an end, the cessation of pleasure will be painful.

I suppose so,

If so, that state of rest which, we said, lies between pleasure and pain, will sometimes be one, sometimes the other. But if it is neither of the two how can it become both?

I do not think it can.

And besides, both pleasure and pain are processes of change which take place in the mind, are they not? Whereas the neutral condition appeared to be a state of rest between the two. So can it be right to regard the absence of pain as pleasant or the absence of enjoyment as painful?

No, it cannot.

It follows, then, that the state of rest is not really either pleasant or painful, but only appears so in these cases by contrast. there is no soundness in these appearances; by the standard of true pleasure they are a sort of imposture.

That seems to be the conclusion.

You might be tempted, in these instances, to suppose that pleasure is the same thing as relief from pain, and pain the same the cessation of pleasure; but, as an instance to the contrary consider pleasures that do not follow on pain. There are plenty of them; the best example is the pleasure of smell. these occur suddenly with extraordinary intensity; they are not preceded by any pain and they leave no pain behind when they cease.

Quite true.

We are not to be persuaded, then, that relief from pain is the same thing as pure pleasure, or cessation of pleasure the same as pure pain.

No.

On the other hand, the class of pleasures which do involve some sort of relief from pain may be said to include the great majority and the most intense of pleasures, so called, which reach the mind by way of the body; and the same description applies to the pleasures and pains of anticipation which precede them.

Yes.

Here is an analogy, to illustrate their nature. You think of the world as divided into an upper region and a lower, with a center between them. Now if a person were transported from below to the center, he would be sure to think he was moving 'upwards'; and when he was stationed at the center and looking in the direction he had come from, he would imagine he was in the upper region, if he had never seen the part which was really above the center. And supposing he were transported back again, he would think he was traveling 'downwards', and this time he would be right. His mistake would be due to his ignorance if the real distinctions between the upper and lower regions and the center.

Clearly.

You will not be surprised, then, if people whose ignorance of truth and reality gives them many unsound ideas, are similarly confused about pleasure and pain and the intermediate state. When the movement is towards a painful condition they are right in believing that the pain is real; but when they are passing from a state of pain to the neutral point, they are firmly convinced that they are approaching the pleasure of complete satisfaction. In their ignorance of true pleasure, they are deceived by the contrast between pain and the absence of pain, just as one who had never seen white might be conceived by the contrast between black and grey.

Certainly; I should be much more surprised if it were not so.

Then look at it this way. As hunger and thirst are states of body inanition, which can be replenished by food, so ignorance and unwisdom in the soul are an emptiness to be filled by gaining understanding. Of the two sorts of nourishment, will not the more real yield the truer satisfaction?

Clearly.

Which kind of nourishment, then, has the higher claim to pure reality --food-stuffs like bread and meat and drink, or such things as true belief, knowledge, reason, and in a word, all the excellences of the mind? You may decide by asking yourself whether something which is closely connected with the unchanging and immortal world of truth and itself shares that nature together with the thing in which it exists, has more or less reality than something which, like the thing which contains it, belongs to a world of mortality and perpetual change

No doubt it is much more real.

And a higher or lower degree of reality goes with a greater or less measure of knowledge and so of truth?

Necessarily.

And again, less in the body itself than in the soul?

Certainly.

And in proportion as the sustenance and the thing sustained by it are more real, the satisfaction itself is a more real satisfaction.

Of course.

Accordingly, if the appropriate satisfaction of natural needs constitutes pleasure, there will be more real enjoyment of true pleasure in such a case; whereas in the opposite case the satisfaction is not so genuine or secure and the pleasure is less true and trustworthy.

Inevitably.

To conclude, then: those who have no experience of wisdom and virtue and spend their whole time in feasting and self-indulgence are all their lives, as it were, fluctuating downwards from the central point and back to it again, but never rise beyond it to the true upper region., to which they have not lifted their eyes. Never really satisfied with real nourishment, the pleasure they taste is uncertain and impure. Bent over their tables, they feed like cattle with stooping heads and eyes fixed upon the ground; so they grow fat and breed, and in their greedy struggle kick and but one another to death with horns and hoofs of steel, because they can never satisfy with unreal nourishment that part of themselves which is itself unreal and incapable of lasting satisfaction.

Finally, he said that the desires of both the gain-loving and the ambitious part of our nature will win the truest pleasures of which they are capable only if they accept the guidance of knowledge and reason and pursue only those pleasures which wisdom approves. Such pleasures will be true and proper to their particular nature, to what is best for their real self.

On what ground can we say that it is profitable for a man to be unjust or self-indulgent or to do any disgraceful act which will make him a worse man, though he gain money and power. Or how can it profit a wrongdoer to escape detection and punishment? He will only grow still worse; whereas if he is found out, chastisement will tame the brute in him and lay it to rest, while the gentler part of him is set free; and thus the entire soul, restored to its native soundness will gain, in the temperance and righteousness which wisdom brings, a condition more precious than the strength and beauty which health brings to the body, in the proportion as the soul itself surpasses the body in worth.

And in the matter of acquiring wealth he will order his life in harmony with the same purpose. He will not be carried away by the vulgar notion of happiness into heaping up an unbounded store which would bring him endless trouble. Rather, in adding or spending his sustenance, he will, to the best of his power, be guided by watchful care that neither want nor abundance may unsettle the constitution set up in his soul. Again, in accepting power or honors he will keep the same end in view, ready to enjoy any position in public or private life which he thinks will make him a better man, and avoiding any that would break down the established order within him.

To summarize, if ethics is a matter of knowledge, then the person who has this knowledge will realize that living a rational life in accordance with what is best in the long run will necessarily live the happiest life. Plato's ethical theory leads to the idea of virtue as a way of life enlightened by perfect ethical ideals toward which the human life is directed. It calls for a sublimation of the immediate in favor of an ideal which can only be known through pure reasoning concerning ideal and perfect ends.

Return to Philosophy Home Page

Go To Ethics as Training

E Mail your comments to me

1