On Plato's Objections to Democratic Culture

On Plato's Objections to Democratic Culture

Introduction

At the beginning of Plato's Apology, Socrates implores the jury hearing his case to “concentrate your attention on whether I am just or not, for the excellence of a judge lies in this, as that of a speaker lies in telling the truth” (Apology 18a). Despite Socrates' impassioned and argumentatively sound defense against the charges of corruption and atheism brought against him, he was convicted and sentenced to death. For Plato, the loyal student of Socrates, the fact that a democratic society could convict an innocent and wrongly accused philosopher is disconcerting. If a majority of democratic men cannot be persuaded by sound, philosophical argument, then in Plato's eyes democracy must be structurally flawed. Plato is not an admirer of democracy for the very reason of his teacher's death condemnation--- the majority opinion arrived at a (seemingly) clearly false and unjust conclusion.

In this paper I will outline Plato's two main objections to the democratic culture by illustrating the metaphor of the unruly crew and the allegory of the cave. I will show how these stories are used to reveal the inherent weaknesses and concerns of the democratic culture. Then, I will object to the relevance of Plato's metaphors by appealing to an apparent misrepresentation of democracy, and examine whether a reevaluation of an ideal democracy is enough to appease Plato's concerns.

Plato's Arguments Against Democracy

Plato's main grievance with democratic culture is the notion that an ill-informed majority could outnumber one just, virtuous, and well-educated individual--- the philosopher--- and thus falsity would triumph over truth. For example, Plato spells out the predicament of the philosopher in a democratic culture through an analogy of an unruly crew. Imagine, Plato asks the reader, a crew on a ship. The owner of the ship, having gained a position of authority on the boat through size and strength, is ill-equipped in naval knowledge to steer the ship. Meanwhile, there are a multitude of sailors who all think they are fit to be the captain. They believe that they are fit to be the authority on the ship despite the fact that they had never learned anything about naval matters,--- because, as they say, captainship is not something that can be taught (Republic 488a). When the sailors fail in their quests, they seek to kill their competitors, and manipulate the owner into ceding control of the ship, and "... help themselves to its cargo, and have the kind of drunken and indulgent voyage you'd expect from people like that" (Republic 488d). On such a ship, the way to gain favor of the other sailors is to contribute to their quest to subdue the owner, and thus come to be recognized as a 'true captain" (Republic 488d). Therefore, any true naval expert, one who has studied the requisite naval matters in order to properly guide a ship, will fail when he tries to speak up. Because this expert is more concerned with actually guiding the ship, rather than contributing to the cause of the other sailors, he is viewed as useless by the rest of the sailors. He is thought of as "nothing but a windbag with his head in the clouds" (Republic 489a).

Speaking to the metaphor, the philosopher in a democratic culture is the true sea captain ignored by the majority, while the sophist is the pseudo-captain who gains favor through rhetoric and manipulation. The sophist is more interested in constructing arguments to help people manipulate others and win power, rather than seeking the nature of morality, justice, and truth. In Plato's ideal state, the class of Guardians (led by the Philosopher-King), is filtered out by birth and educated intensely, in order to produce the wisest, most just, and most morally upright possible ruler for society. Thus, Plato's ideal state goes against the democratic notion that political expertise is not something that can be taught, and reasserts that like other crafts, being a good ruler is something that must be learned, honed, and refined; ruling, like other crafts, is certainly not suitable for everyone. However, Plato says of democracy, "This political system, however, spurns all of that , and doesn't care what kind of provenance people had before coming to government; as long as someone claims to be sympathetic to the general populace, he is honored within this political system" (Republic 558b).

The true philosopher, according to Plato, will be more concerned with just rule than with political maneuvering. However, in the democratic society, which results from insatiable greed for wealth, political maneuvering is the foremost priority (Republic 555b). Democracy results from oligarchy when the poor members of the community emerge victorious, and they kill the rich, and give to their brethren equal political rights (Republic 557a). However, the poor still covet the riches that they had previously resented, and thus, political authority will rest with the people that possess the most wealth. Thus, the desire for self-discipline is at odds with the desire for wealth, and in a democratic society, one is always neglected (Republic 555d). More often than not, the desire for self-discipline loses out.

The reluctance of the democratic culture to take the true philosopher seriously is further illustrated in the allegory of the cave. In this picture, Plato asks the reader to imagine prisoners immobilized, with their attention fixated on a wall right in front of them, where shadows of objects pass by (Republic 514a). These shadows are constructed by people carrying puppets passing along a walkway behind a fire which remains unseen by the prisoners (Republic 514b-c). Thus, in this allegory, the prisoners have a very primitive understanding of reality. The only "truth" they can claim to know are the shadows passing in front of them, and thus they judge the worthiness and skill of each other based on the skill of naming the shadows passing them by, Yet, as Plato describes, one who suddenly feels compelled to break out of the chains and turns around will see that the puppets projecting the shadows on the wall seem to be less real than the shadows themselves (Republic 515c-d) The now-freed prisoner will eventually come to see the sun outside of the cave, and become "enlightened". He will come to know that the sun is the true source of knowledge, and the ultimate cause of everything that he had previously come to consider as real.

However, with this enlightenment comes the desire for solitude. He doesn't want to go free his fellow prisoners, but something inside him tells him that he must. However, once he travels back into the dark depths of the cave, he is blinded by the darkness, and thus is unable to recognize shapes like all of the others, who refuse to be freed by him. Thus, the enlightened one, the philosopher, becomes an outcast who is rejected by the masses.

Plato, therefore, sees democracy as detrimental and perhaps even outright vigilant against the philosopher. Plato, in his allegory, is making an allusion to the masses of democracy as prisoners who refuse to pursue real knowledge. This is not to say that they are aware of a higher knowledge and refuse to pursue it, but rather because there are "puppet-masters" (in a democracy, the political power structure) that construct perceptions and bind the masses in such a way that the source of true knowledge is obscured. The philosopher (for one reason or another) is suddenly compelled by an outside force to break free from this bondage, and thus becomes a potential medium through which all prisoners can be freed. The tragedy of the story, as one may interpret it, is that the prisoners don't recognize themselves as prisoners and don't want to be freed. Of course, not all are even capable of breaking free from bondage, and Plato recognizes that a true philosopher is rare indeed. Due to the rarity of a true aptitude for philosophical life, the philosopher is always at a numerical disadvantage, and his "genius" goes unrecognized precisely because there are very few others who even have the capability to recognize this aptitude.

Objections to Plato's Metaphor and a Proposed Solution

I have outlined, so far, two of Plato's main objections to the democratic culture. First, the true philosopher is wrongly relegated as useless by the majority, and thus in a democracy one can never be confident that a state is always pursuing the common good. Furthermore, the deterioration from philosophy into sophistry may promulgate false ideas and false notions of the common good. Second, the political leaders of a democracy are mostly unfit, education-wise, for wise and just rule over a community. Since Plato believes that political acumen is something that can and should be taught, education must therefore be monumental in the developing of wise and just rulers. In a democracy, according to Plato's account in the unruly crew, everyone is fighting to get their pleas for power heard and become astute in the process of manipulating others to gain political power, despite the fact that none of them has the proper education to rightfully claim authority. I will now raise two possible objections to the Platonist argument against democracy--- first, whether Plato adequately defines democracy, and second, whether he would be compelled to accept (due to his stated philosophical methodology) a reevaluation of an ideal democracy.

Plato's metaphor of the unruly crew is particularly vulnerable to objection. Certainly, I cannot doubt that such a ship as he describes would indeed be a chaotic political situation. The question is, however, whether such a situation described in this metaphor could adequately approximate a democratic "rule of the people". Plato describes the members of a democratic community as autonomous, governed by the notions of independence and free speech, and able to pursue the life one wants (Republic 557b). Given the definition of a democratic individual as "autonomous", and the nature of democracy (at least as we know it) it is perhaps important to question whether the unruly crew is a democracy or an anarchy-- a lack of governmental structure. One of the principle concepts of democracy, at least in contemporary understanding, is the understanding that one willingly cedes his full autonomy to the will of the majority. In exchange for security and protection of his own basic rights, he understands there are some liberties he must give up. Therefore, in a democracy, an individual isn't entirely "autonomous", as Plato might suggest. In the strictest sense of democracy, one isn't able to pursue any life one wants (destructive or constructive). Certainly, the possibilities are vast, but they aren't unlimited, as Plato implies. The situation of the unruly crew, however, suggests the sailors as fully autonomous, capriciously pursuing their unquenchable thirst for power. There seems to be nothing restraining the sailors from living a primitive and corrupt lifestyle on the boat--- it is a situation of unrestrained liberty. Thus, the ship may in fact suggest an anarchic political structure, in which there is no legitimate authority to restrain liberties. The sailors aren't working together to steer the ship--- they are working for themselves. In an ideal democracy, meanwhile, the masses, though they certainly have personal interests at stake, work with one another to pursue a common good, to ensure stability among a collection of individuals.

Secondly, if we are to accept this definition of an ideal democracy, then we can adequately compare the function of such a political state to the Plato's own philosophic methodology. In its ideal form, as stated earlier, democracy is a political system where each voting member, so to speak, has equal political power. Each has the opportunity to express his ideas and even debate with others about what the common good is. Certainly, as Plato is quick to point out, not every man pursues the transcendent good. Even if one may claim that they are pursuing what is best for the community, there are some opinions which are invariably wrong and thus hamper the just functioning of a society. Plato's fear is of a democratic state blindly following the false opinions spread among the masses by sophists. However, this does not necessarily have to be the case. In an ideal democracy, there is room for political forum-- a place for voting members to debate what is good for society. Certainly, not every man is correct in his opinion. However, the possibility for debate sparks a possibility of Socratic dialectic reasoning. If there are, as Plato suggests, even the slightest number of philosophers, then there is a possibility to lead a debate among citizens. This democratic process is much like Socrates' dialectic interactions with people around him. Most of these people, it turns out, hold opinions that Socrates eventually exposes as fallacious or plainly incorrect. However, Socrates, as the “true philosopher”, has a duty to question these opinions, and tease out the truth held in them, discard the falsity, and draw a rational conclusion. Thus, as the new opinion starts to take hold, Socrates then questions the new opinion, to derive more fundamental truths, etc. An ideal democracy would function precisely as a Socratic dialogue. The opinions of each man, however false or true they may be, is held up to intense scrutiny. The true and just opinion would eventually find itself at the forefront. Thus, if men become convinced that what they previously held to be the common good was not in fact correct, they could be convinced (by the true philosophers) to rationally discover the fundamental common good. Thus, the false opinions of every man would be discarded, and only the true ones would remain. As a methodology for true philosophy, Plato might be inclined to accept this ideal democracy. The true philosopher, in such a society, wouldn't be a Guardian as he is in the Republic; but rather, a “super-citizen” of sorts who Socratically facilitates the democratic process.

Conclusion

The objections to Plato's metaphors and his grim picture of democracy can still be plausibly answered from within the Platonist perspective. Plato might have misrepresented the nature of a true democracy in his metaphor of the unruly crew, but he still raises a valid objection in the allegory of the cave: If the masses are pre-occupied with shadows passing before them on the wall, then how can they ever pursue the true source of enlightenment? In a democratic state, the masses have equal political power, but what good is this political power if their perceptions of good and gruth are woefully inadequate? These questions remain significantly relevant. Much of my objection to Plato's argument hinges on the nature of man--- that, in some sense, he has at least some level of concern for the common good, and that he is willing to have his opinions challenged by philosophers. I am not denying that some men in a democratic state hold incorrect opinions, as Plato argues is an inherent weakness. My objection seems to rest with the role of the true philosopher, and whether, in a true democracy, whether he can flourish and contribute his strengths to the democratic process. As a member of a democratic community, I believe the philosopher, much like Socrates, can guide and facilitate democratic discussion, without having sole political authority.

Admittedly, such democratic discussion may still be vulnerable to domination by sophists, but ideally a true philosopher should be able to expose them. Thus, contrary to what Socrates argues in The Apology and The Republic, a philosopher must lead a public life in an ideal democracy. The true philosopher may eventually convince everybody, including the detrimental sophists, of the true and just political opinions. Thus, man is able to retain his autonomy while pursuing the ultimate truth and goodness. Whether the newly enlightened democratic community, once conscious of truth, decides to exercise a majority vote to employ it, remains to be seen.