I’d like to start this post off with the disclaimer that I know absolutely nothing.
I started reading Plato’s Republic a few weeks ago, curious to find Plato’s idea of an ‘ideal commonwealth.’ I abandoned it after Book 1 entirely accidentally, and so far, I haven’t gotten to any of the actual politics yet. This post is intended as a refresher for me; if all goes well, I’ll be able to pick up where I left off, having achieved some sort of basic understanding of Book 1.
I’m going in blind, and these are just my thoughts. If I get something wrong here, please correct me.
So far, though, I think I’m starting to get the hang of what this ‘ancient philosophy’ stuff actually is. Plato doesn’t write like a modern writer. He doesn’t tell you what to think; he shows you a bunch of ideas, and lets you be the judge (albeit urging you rather strongly towards the viewpoint of one character, usually Socrates).
He generally spends a lot of time on one idea, and it seems like his focus is to deeply understand the basic concepts that govern his life and that are often taken for granted.
In other words, Plato really makes sure to do his ideas justice (pun intended).
Book 1 is centered almost entirely on the definition of justice. Spoiler alert—it hasn’t been found yet, and coming up with this definition seems to be the driving factor of the entire book.
However, while the definition of justice hasn’t yet been proven, there are some definite conclusions that can be made from Book 1 of Republic.
For one, Plato seems to loathe relativism (the idea that reality is culturally-defined, not absolute). The character Thrasymachus touts this viewpoint, saying that justice is ‘the advantage of the stronger’—the person or group in power defines and dictates what it is that ‘should’ be done.
In the dialogue, Socrates counters this point, and in doing so he brings up an interesting topic that deserves an aside—the idea that everything has an ‘excellence,’ i.e. a function that it is the best at doing.
A pair of scissors, for example, can be used to bludgeon someone over the head, but it is much better suited to cutting a piece of paper (therefore making this purpose and others like it the scissors’ excellence). Conversely, while a dinner knife could be used to cut paper, it’s not nearly as suited for the task as a scissor would be (and thus, this would not be its excellence).
I’m probably butchering this concept.
The point is that a person (or a soul, rather) also has an ‘excellence,’ and justice can perhaps be defined as ‘excellence of the soul’—in other words, human soul fulfilling its utmost purpose.
What does this ‘excellence of the soul’ entail?
Well, this is left undiscovered by the end of Book 1.
The reader is left at the end of Book 1 not knowing what the ‘right thing to do’ actually is, but with some firm understanding of the fact that there is, at least, an objective, absolute right thing that is to be done.
Some might call it obvious. In our modern age, however, the idea is profound.