Politeia

Sunday, October 19, 2003


San Demos High School Football RULES!!!!!!!!!!!!


Tuesday, June 25, 2002


STRAUSS ON INDIRECT INFLUENCE A letter dated April 22, 1957 that Leo Strauss wrote to Alexandre Kojeve touches upon the possibility of the philosopher indirectly influencing the people. Recall that we found no direct evidence for this in the opening of the Republic. I did, however, venture to speculate on the possibility of turning the tables on the opening of the dialogue, in which Polemarchus and his crowd indirectly influence Socrates by swaying Glaucon. Perhaps Socrates could exercise influence by way of an intermediary as well. It seems that Strauss found confimation of this hypothesis: "I do not believe in the possibility of a conversation of Socrates with the people...the relation of the philosopher to the people is mediated by a certain kind of rhetoricians who arouse fear of punishment after death; the philosopher can guide these rhetoricians but can not do their work (this is the meaning of the Gorgias)."

RHETORIC AND THE PEOPLE Strauss' comment seems to call for a revision of what I've said earlier. I claimed that Polemarchus' response to Socrates' proposal that perhaps he could persuade the crowd showed the ineffectiveness of rhetoric because the many are set in their ways. This, if accurate, amounts to a defense of democracy against the charge that the people are swayed by flattering rhetoric. Strauss raises the possibility that the kind of threatening rhetoric that did not persuade Socrates might persuade the people.


Saturday, March 30, 2002


MRC ON CEPHALUS MRC writes: "So where does this leave us then? We have emerged from the mire of the structural issues of the first ten lines of the republic and now we are free to discuss the importance of Cephalus. To return to the idea of the importance of history: Cephalus is an old man. Socrates discusses with him the good and bad points of growing old, Cephalus seems to prefer his old age and refers to the freedom it has given him from the impluses of youth. The real discussion begins after Cephalus has excused himself. What does this tell us about the importance of history? I think that Socrates sees history as important as source of wisdom and knowledge but also understands that we must move on and put history behind us in order to move forward."

MIRE? Hold on one second! I didn't think we were mired in structural issues. We were revelling in them! In any case, I'd say we have quite a bit to go before we can understand the significance of Cephalus. Or at least, I have more to say on the opening scene.

HISTORY Still it only seems fair to take up MRC's point now that he's raised it. A few questions arise. Is Cephalus history? Just because he's old? Does the exit of Cephalus mark the exit of history? The dialogue certainly proceeds as if the question of justice has very little to do with history, whereas Cephalus assumes it involves making amends for what has happened in the past. At first I thought MRC's connection between Cephalus and History was a bit of a stretch. Now its starting to look a little better. Over to you MRC. Care to expand?


Friday, March 29, 2002


THE HIDDEN AUDIENCE Speeches require speakers and auditors. Twice now in the Republic a problem has arisen from this fact. First, the impossibility of the audience for Socrates' narration raised questions about the entire enterprise. Second, Polemarchus' response reveals that one reason a speech may fail to find auditors is that the auditors will not listen. But this second problem has a solution revealed in the action of the dialogue: indirect influence. Might this solution tells us something about the first problem? If there is no audience that Socrates could address that would have listened to the Republic, might there not be another audience that would listen and that could be counted upon to influence those who would turn a deaf ear? Could an indirect audience be the answer to the question of the audience? If we draw out the analogy, Socrates would be directly addressing an auditor he cannot influence, with the hopes of convincing someone who can influence that auditor.

POLITICAL IMPLICATIONS Weeks ago I drew out some tentative political implications of the impossibility of the audience. It seems fair to ask what are the implications of the action of indirect influence. Recall that the political analogy for the absence of an audience was the absence of proper subjects for the regime. But now the subject is brought back into the fold because the ruler can influence the friends of the subject. This, however, seems to turn around what was said earlier about the ruler being himself the friend of his subject, and the rhetorician indirectly influencing the people by influencing the ruler. Perhaps the ruler who is influenced is not really a ruler at all but a kind of servant who calls himself master even as he runs between the commander and the commanded. But are we justified in even saying this? At this point in the dialogue we have never seen an example of a friend of the many, much less the many being influenced by a friend. We might have been mistaken in going so far as to imagine such a thing is possible. If we stay closer to the action of the dialogue, we would expect the political implications of indirect influence to look more like this: the regime obtains the loyalty of the philosopher not through direct appeals but indirectly, through his companions.

THE MANY AND THE FEW From the action of the dialogue the power of indirect influence is exercised by the many over the few. We speculated that this might be turned around but this speculation might be unwarranted. It certainly takes us beyond the action of the Republic. The same should be said of the attempt to discover an indirect audience for the Republic: we've encountered no support in the dialogue for such a thing, except through a looking-glass. Our original finding seems sound: Socrates' speech seems not to have an audience. Polemarchus' speech, however, has a dual audience, and he can count on one part influencing the other. This calls for a redrawing of the political analogy: the regime of the many may succeed in winning over a philosopher by convincing his companion, while the regime of the philosopher may have no subjects because the many may have no friends.


RHETORIC AND DEMOCRACY One classical critique of democracy was that it amounted to the rule of rhetoric: skilled public speakers would enthrall the people while seeming to pander to them, and the law would serve the narrow interests and whims of the rhetoricians rather than the common good. So the typical image of democracy is the demogouge convincing the demos. In the opening of the Republic we encounter the opposite situation. The many, or the representative of the many, is speaking to Socrates and his companion. Rhetoric is used by the many to persuade the few. The form this persuasion takes is not pandering but intimidation. Or rather, threats are the means it employs for the flattering purpose of convincing Socrates to keep company with the many for a while longer. Since conveying this purpose is part of the speech, it can be considered a rhetorical device. In short, the many pander to the few through threats.

The Impotence of Rhetoric Polemarchus presents Socrates with a stark choice between two alternatives. Socrates must prove himself stronger than the many or he must acede to their wishes. Socrates proposes a third possibility: Couldn't he persuade them? With this Socratic proposal we glimpse at last a more traditional role for rhetoric, the well-spoken man speaking to the many. Polemarchus responds without hesitation: there can be no persuasion where the audience will not listen. This introduces the outline of a powerful defense against the classical critique of democracy I mentioned above. Democracy does not simply empower the rhetoricians because the many are essentially immune to rhetoric, they are unpersuadable, set in their ways. Rhetoric is not the all-powerful, and therefore extemely dangerous technology both its critics and advocates claim. Polemarchus's response implies that it may be largely ineffective.

The First Argument We have arrived at the first argument of the Republic. Polemarchus asserts that Socrates must either overpower him and his group or go along with them. Socrates responds with another choice: persuasion. Polemarchus argues that persuasion is impossible if the intended audience refuses to listen, which would leave Socrates back with the choice of overcoming or surrendering. How would Socrates respond to this? It's tempting to say that he responds with silence and stillness: saying nothing more and doing nothing more. If you will not listen, I will not talk.

The Rhetoric of Polemarchus Or perhaps, Socrates is showing Polemarchus what is wrong with his rhetorical approach. Afterall, Polemarchus assumes that he can persuade Socrates to remain in the Piraeus by means of his perhaps playful intimidation. What if Socrates gave the Poemarchic response of refusing to listen. Surely Polemarchus & Co. cannot actually force Socrates into a conversation with them. Socrates has gotten Polemarchus to announce a refutation to his own way of going about things. The rhetoric the many use with the few is ultimately powerless, or else its power depends on the willingness of the few to cooperate by listening.

The Role of Glaucon But its probably safer to say that we don't know how Socrates would respond. Glaucon cuts off any possibility of learning this by giving in to Polemarchus. To put it differently, although we don't know how Socrates would respond if he were alone, we know how Glaucon responds, and we know that Socrates will go along with Glaucon. Whatever Socrates analytic or theoretic response to Polemarchus might be, it is irrelevant in terms of action. Socrates acts as if Polemarchus is correct because Glaucon believes he is correct. Socrates implicit compliance is gained through Glaucon's explicit compliance.

How to Persuade Socrates It is not necessary to win the argument with Socrates to win his cooperation. It is enough to win over his companion. That is to say, Socrates cannot make himself immune to rhetoric simply by refusing to listen. If we assume Polemarchus knows what he's doing, then we might consider that all this time he was really trying to convince Glaucon that Socrates must or should remain in the Piraeus, knowing that this would be enough secure Socrates' own compliance.

Do the Many Have a Friend? The question that follows from this discovery is whether a similiar reply could be issued to Polemarchus. Could Socrates persuade Polemarchus and his gang, even if they refused to listen, by persuading a friend of the group? This seems a bit incoherent. A person has friends but I'm not sure that the many do. Oddly enough, this would make the many freer, more independent, less prone to rhetoric's seduction, than the few or the individual.

Enter Pericles But surely this is too quick. A popular leader might indeed qualify as a friend of the people, someone the people will follow even if they are not themselves persuaded. The rhetorician would weild power not by convincing the people but by influencing their leader. This reminds me of a debate on affirmative-action that took place at Harvard's Kennedy School between Harvey Mansfield and Jesse Jackson. The audience was, of course, generally hostile to Mansfield's arguments against race preferences. Afterwards I asked Mansfield how he thought he had done. "Well, I wasn't really trying to win over the audience in front of me. I was after the audience on the platform behind me, where the university president was sitting," he replied. The power of rhetoric is very different from what it first appears to be, and this difference gives it influence not just in a democracy but in a dictatorship as well.


Wednesday, March 27, 2002


DO YOU SEE HOW MANY OF US THERE ARE? In our Cedar Tavern discussion, someone proposed that the arrival of Polemarchus should be read as Plato's attack on democracy or majority rule. Indeed, Polemarchus proposal does seem to make clear that something that is a bit ugly-- brute strength or force--underlies majority rule. "Either prove stronger than these men or stay here," he tells Socrates. The source of authority is very plainly strength in numbers. This authority is no respecter of persons. Foreigners, warlovers, "others" can issue orders to Athenians, to Glaucon, and even to Socrates. To a reader of Plato, Polemarchus' command shows the world turned upside down, with the best of men forced to obey and strangers empowered to issue orders. Intimidation, the threat of force, and fear loom large in this scene.

The Slave's Command, Polemarchus' Command I want to make passing notice of the difference between the slave's command and that of his master. The slave seems to presume the authority of his master will be respected. His command is simple: "Polemarchus orders you to wait." Polemarchus might be said to depend on intimidation but it strikes me as a sort of rational intimidation rather than one intended to simply provoke fear. He appeals to Socrates' rationality, asking Socrates to surrender not just because he is ordered to do so but because he cannot hope to overcome the strength of so many. Polemarchus, in short, explains the source of his authority, the reason Socrates should obey. This is the first hint that Plato's treatment of democracy is perhaps not a damning as it seems: the slave's simple authoritarianism is beyond reason while Polemarchus' proposal involves explanation, which is to say it requires reason.

Polemarchus Understands Socrates In getting this far I've skipped over what is in fact the opening statement of Polemarchus, which is neither a command nor an explanation of authority. It is a guess about what Socrates and Glaucon are up to. What's more, he is basically right. Even Socrates replies, "That's not a bad guess." In our introduction to Polemarchus we see that he is someone who is good at getting a grip on the actions of others, figuring out their goals. What's more, he knows what Socrates is doing.

Democracy's Rhetoric Presumably Polemarchus knows what he is doing when he explains to Socrates why he must stay, which is to say he is making a guess about how Socrates will react. His hypothesis, to use BMC's terminology, is that Socrates will respond to the logic of strength-in-numbers. This raises the issue of rhetoric. Above I noted that Polemarchus' explanation seem to lift democracy into the realm of the politic of reason. But perhaps this is simply how the democrat talks to someone like Socrates, someone famous for arguments, reason and philosophy. Does democracy truly depend on reason, or at least the reasonableness or enlightened self-interest of its subjects? Or is it force, intimidation and fear? Most likely we'll find an answer somewhere between these extremes, and perhaps our answer will depend on what democracy is doing and who it is doing it to.

Democracy's Goal, Part I Very famously, Socrates refused to be intimidated by the threat of punishment, even the threat of death, and death itself. It is hard to see, in this instance, how Socrates could ever be forced to engage in his characteristic activity. One could say that Polemarchus understands this problem, and therefore attempts to persuade Socrates to go along with his orders. The goal of getting Socrates to remain in the Piraeus and engage in conversation requires something other than force. Socrates cannot be treated like a slave or an animal. Democracy is forced to imitate philosophy to gain the cooperation of philosophy.

Democracy's Goal, Part II We can get more specific about this by paying attention to a contrast between the Apology of Socrates and the opening of the Republic. In the Apology, the democracy commands and cajoles Socrates to cease his activity. Socrates rejects them, even at great peril. In the Republic, the democracy is put to work commanding and cajoling Socrates to remain and continue his activity. He tacitly accepts. And here we can see the glimmer of yet another bright aspect of democracy: here the democracy is in the service of seeking out conversation with Socrates. Rather than recoil in horror from the threats, we might smile at the nobility of their aim.


INTENTION AND HYPOTHESIS. I will surely be accused of forever delaying the turn to the arguments of the first book but I want to look at the opening action again in light of BMC's comments. The diagloue begins with Socrates on his way back to Athens. This is thwarted by his encounter with Polemarchus and his group. This action seems to mirror what BMC describes as the scientific aspect of the arguments of book one: hypothesis and refutation. At first glance, it looks as if Socrates' intention to return to Athens is not so much refuted as stymied by the demands of Polemarchus, the acquiesence of Glaucon and Socrates' own tendency to be led around by his companions (a la, that famous shopping trip with Charmides in the Republic). But this is only because an intention is not in itself a hypothesis, and it is not directly open to refutation. An intention, however, presupposes a hypothesis, an idea about about the world. In a sense the opening action may indeed count as a refutation: Socrates proposes that he can go home after he's been to the procession; events seem to reveal that he is wrong. We not only see a foreshadowing of the shape of the arguments to come. We see the faint outlines of the connection between desire and possibility.


Force and the Threat of Force The dialogue begins not with force, but with the threat of force, coming from men we do not know with preposterous-sounding names (in this context), such as "War Leader" and "Victory Lover." The objects of the threats accede--Glaucon explicitly and Socrates implicitly. Most of the time, this is in fact what happens in "civil society"--this is what M. Rothbard called the "mystery of compliance," I believe.

Science and Philosophy A hypothesis (for which I must give some credit to Karl Popper and Adam Gopnick of the New Yorker): The first book of the Republic proceeds, more or less, in a manner that we today would call scientific. That is, hypotheses are advanced, tested and found wanting, one after the other.

At the end of Book I, this process breaks down, chiefly due to Thrasymachus' lapsing into silence. From there, the book takes an induction, and authoritarian turn. I've never been a big fan of Popper's attack on Plato, but I find this distinction suggestive. Indeed, it implies that Plato/Socrates is aware of the difference in method, and even more so of the difference in outcomes between the scientific and inductive modes of investigation. This is not a fully developed thought, and the vocabulary is all wrong, but I thought I'd put it forward for debate.


Thursday, March 14, 2002


HIERARCHY AND DOMINANCE I want to take a step back from the dialogue in order to make a few remarks about the dissolution of hierarchy that I've described in previous posts. One of the more notorious aspects of the Republic is Socrates' description of a city rigidly stratified by class, ruled by a benign tyrant. This is often criticized as dangerously elitist and authoritarian. The opening of the Republic seems to anticipate this criticism by showing that egalitarianism does not preclude authoritarianism. The dissolution of social hierarchy does not disolve political power. Commands are issued, obedience is required, and the relationship of sovereigns and subjects remains.


Monday, March 11, 2002


THE COMMAND FROM THE SLAVE Polemarchus' slave informs Socrates and Glaucon that his master commands them to wait. The imperiousness of this message is extrordinary. By what authority does Polemarchus command Socrates and Glaucon? Did Polemarchus really command his slave boy to issue a command in his name to the pair? Or is this a mistake of the slave, confusing a request for a command? Already it seems we are learning something of the nature of authority: the subject understands the sovereigns' commands as absolutely authoritative. He doesn't anticipate possible limits to his masters' authority. This might even be something endemic to the nature of authority and obedience. Nonetheless, it is a bit frightening because it is so authoritarian in its denial of the freedom of others. The slave sees nothing wrong with Polemarchus, the resident-alien of the Piraeus, issuing orders to Athenians such as Socrates and Glaucon. Here we are introduced to the dark side of the loss of distinction, the confusion about status and hierarchy that was indicated by what I earlier referred to as the "politics of 'the son of'."

SOCRATIC DISOBEDIENCE, GLAUCONIC ACQUIESCENCE Socrates does not immediately indicate whether he intends to obey or disobey this command. Instead he does something classically Socratic: he responds to the command with a question. It is Glaucon who announces that they intend to wait as commanded. Why does Glaucon so readily acquiesce to Polemarchus' command? Again, this seems to suggest something about a re-ordering or disordering of status and hierarchy. On the other hand, we soon learn that Adeimantus is with Polemarchus' group, and Glaucon ony agrees to wait after the group has been pointed-out to him by the slave. Perhaps Glaucon is not giving in to Polemarchus' authority but deciding to wait for his brother.

THE BROTHERS Glaucon is travelling with Socrates to pray and watch the processions. His brother Adeimantus is travelling with a much larger group that contains Polemarchus, Niceratus and "several others." A few observations about the difference between the company the brothers keep are in order. Glaucon has a single companion; Adeimantus travels with a band so numerous they are not all named in the initial encounter. Glaucon travels with an Athenian; Adeimantus with a mixed group of Athenians and metics. Glaucon and Socrates are headed back for Athens; Adeimantus group plans to remain in the Piraeus. A question: what are we to make of the significance of the named company of Adeimantus?


Home