What Happens When the State Pursues Justice?

Matt Singleton
11 min readDec 16, 2020

Seeking Insight from Plato and Tocqueville

Plato’s Republic offers an incredible challenge to any would be interpreter, in large part due to the unclear nature of the book’s purpose. The work begins in a seemingly straightforward manner: a discussion of systems of justice that slowly involves into a discussion over whether it is truly good for a person to always be just. Glaucon famously issues this challenge with the fable of the Ring of Gyges — asking Socrates why anyone “would be so adamant as to stick by justice,” when they have the ability to not just commit the greatest injustices, but also to still be perceived as a just individual.[1] In order to answer this challenge, Socrates says that they must first define justice in order to defend it, and then suggests that they first look for justice on a large scale — in a city — in order to then find it on the smallest scale — in the individual. Although Socrates’ intends to connect the two, this represents a fundamental shift in the book; the topic of debate has shifted from the presence of justice in an individual life to the presence of justice in political society. Plato, through Socrates, then goes on to design a society designed to maximize justice — his notorious Just Society. The simplest interpretation of The Republic then is to understand Plato as recommending his Just Society. However, I argue that the opposite is true. Far from the Utopia it’s ironically portrayed as, the Just Society is a horrendous place to live, and the true lesson of the Just Society might just be a warning against such pursuits.

The first clue to this interpretation lies in Plato’s usage of Socrates as the articulator of the Just Society. Socrates was, first and foremost, a deeply inquisitive individual; in fact, it is this same tendency to question that got him sentenced to death. Throughout Plato’s dialogues, Socrates is a character who questions and encourages questioning, but never truly offers answers of his own. Indeed, Plato even characterizes this, through Thrasymachus, as the “habitual irony of Socrates.”[2] Though in the Republic, Socrates doesn’t pose many outright questions, a truer to form interpretation of his character would find him posing thoughts designed to encourage his students to ask questions, rather than as offering a true proposal for society. I once had a professor who admonished us on the first day of reading the Republic to always ask how Socrates might have responded to the proposals and arguments he offers over the course of the work; could we truly envision him agreeing with his own arguments? Socrates would go on to present the Just Society as one founded on a lie and dependent upon the continued fabrication of that lie for its maintenance. Furthermore, the Just Society is governed by a class of unhappy and unsatisfied philosophers.

Beyond Socrates’ character, Plato offers several aspects of the Just Society that certainly call into question the desirability of the Just Society, and quite possibly call the justice of that society into question as well. The first major of these components is the aforementioned lie: the Noble Lie — the harsh claim that it is necessary for a society devoted to justice to be built on a lie. Socrates proposes a bipartite lie for the Just Society. The first part serves as a founding myth, and one not all that dissimilar from those we might imagine in a modern nation state; Each citizen will believe that “as though the land they are in were a mother and nurse, they must plan for and defend it, if anyone attacks, and they must think of the other citizens as brothers and born of the earth.”[3] This lie is necessary, as Socrates declares, in order to ensure the defense of the city, but also necessary in order to develop devotion and willingness to sacrifice for the good of the community. This lie is the first step in developing the unity Plato suggests is necessary for a society devoted to justice, without it we’re left with a fractured society, defined by individuals who pursue their own good. The necessity of a lie for the Just Society certainly calls into question the desirability of it. If we ask, would Socrates, a philosopher famous for his desire to question and to encourage questioning want to live in a society built on a lie and reliant on the constant redistribution of that lie? The answer would seem to be a resounding no, which might point us towards beginning to see Plato’s just society as deeply ironic.

The second core aspect of the Just Society that calls into question a reading of the Republic as a serious recommendation is in its ruling class of Philosopher-kings. It’s important to note, even before diving into the specifics of this ruling class, that the idea of a Philosopher-king-as Socrates presents it-is in itself unjust by the standards of the Just Society. Socrates offers his listeners the definition that the justice in the just society lies in “minding one’s own business,” an idea that is made possible by his earlier assertion that the just society must allow each person to fulfill their nature.[4]It’s a society of individuals who each do “one thing according to nature and at the crucial moment.”[5] Philosopher-kings seem to differ from this ruling, as they must be both a philosopher and a king, each of which contains a set of tasks not stemming from the same nature. Socrates tells us that “the philosopher is a desirer of wisdom,” and therefore certainly not someone whose nature would be satisfied by the tasks of ruling.[6] Thus, we might call into question the justice offered by the just society for its ruling class of Philosophers — they are forced to abandon their nature so that others might pursue theirs.

So, why then does Socrates turn towards Philosophers for his kings? He sees them as the best choice for ruler of the Just Society because they are the only conceivable member that society to know what true good is — to have discovered the form of the good. Socrates tells us of the process by which philosophers come to this knowledge through his allegory of the cave. Socrates imagines a painful process by which would be philosophers are “compelled,” to leave the cave they’re comfortable in and confront true light.[7] The philosopher, now with the ability to sit outside the constraints of the cave and contemplate the truth (thus fulfilling the nature of the philosopher), the philosopher must then be compelled to return to the cave and bring his message of truth to the caves other inhabitants, who promptly kill him. Seeking to avoid the death of his ruling class at the hands of their subjects, Socrates amends his description of the philosophers’ return to the cave. He says that they must return to the cave and then get “habituated…to seeing the dark things,” which combined with their knowledge of “the truth about fair, just, and good things,” will allow them to “see ten thousand times better,” thus making the Philosopher the ideal ruler for the cave, or Just Society.[8]

However, Plato seems to highlight whether or not this knowledge of the good actually qualifies Philosophers to rule. He has Socrates offer a different metaphor, a much shorter tale about the ship of state. Socrates imagines sailors on a ship “quarreling…each supposing that he ought to pilot,” and then using all sorts of dishonest measures to secure the rule of pilot for themselves.[9] Eventually, they come to confuse being good at sailing with “figuring out how they will get the rule, either by persuading or forcing.”[10] It’s not challenging to see the connections Socrates seeks to draw with political society — a place where the actual business of governance falls prey to the skills necessary for political success. However, Socrates tells of the “true pilot,” who has knowledge of the “seasons, heavens, stars, (and) winds.”[11] Yet, notably lacking in Socrates description of the true pilot is any actual experience sailing the ship, or even knowledge of the actual practice of sailing. Though the true pilot is certainly a skilled astronomer and meteorologist, it’s unclear whether they actually know anything about piloting a ship. There’s a parallel that Plato seems to be drawing to the philosopher-king and the state. The philosopher, Socrates tells us, will have knowledge of the good. Though this knowledge might certainly be related to being an effective governor, at no point does Socrates state that philosophers will be experts about any specific part of governance. To conclude this exploration into the philosopher-king, such a ruler is someone who must “despise political office,” yet still be forced to hold it — even though they’re most likely not qualified to perform the duties of their office.[12]

After the first nine books of the Republic, Socrates has offered a vision of the Just Society as one that is, at a minimum, immensely impractical. Socrates claims that this society is one that maximizes communal happiness by asking each class of its citizens to “share with one another the benefit that each is able to bring the commonwealth.”[13] Yet, it’s not clear that anyone is happy under this society. As has been previously discussed, the philosophers are certainly not happy with their job as kings. But, the maximization of justice in the just society also necessitates many polarizing policies, such as the abolition of the family and of private property. The abolition of the family seems designed to be especially polarizing, as Socrates tells us it must necessitate a certain level of acceptance for incense; since although it’s forbidden, no one is actually able to “distinguish one another’s fathers and daughters from (one’s own).”[14] It’s at this point that it’s important to remind ourselves of the Republic’s original line of inquiry; why should we be just people? What follows seems to have been largely an exercise in devising a society that produced societal justice and not individual justice, as was the original focus of the work.

The failure of the just society to functionally produce justice is profound, as without it calls into question Socrates’ very idea of the forms. Interlaced throughout Socrates’ attempt to divine individual justice through societal justice is the idea that the two must have something in common — therefore by finding the latter we must also find the former. Yet, we fail to find the former; Plato’s moral of the Republic’s first nine books seems to be the failure of societal justice. With this failure in mind, we arrive on the footsteps of Book X, where Socrates launches a final defense of individual justice; he tells his listeners that justice in this life will be rewarded in the next life. The specifics of the myth Socrates tells are unimportant. Rather, it’s important to see that even after the failure of the just society, Socrates still leaves his listeners with the hope that individual justice might still be possible. It’s certainly interesting, however, that this hope lies not in justice founded in reason and philosophy, but rather in myth and religion. With all of this in mind, I put forward, as a brief summary of Plato’s intentions in the Republic, that societal justice is impossible — any attempts to organize society in such a way so as to produce justice will inevitably fail — but we might still organize society in such a way so as to maximize each individual’s chance of discovering justice.

Naturally then, the question becomes how? In looking once again to the Republic, Plato seems to point us towards Democracy, a regime where “all sorts of humans come to be,” as Socrates describes it.[15] With this in mind, I turn to Tocqueville’s Democracy in America, a far more complete analysis of Democracy, in order to begin to examine the ways that Democracy might serve to equip its citizens for the pursuit of individual justice. It’s interesting to note that just as Socrates seemed to suggest that individual justice couldn’t come from philosophy — from reason and questioning — Tocqueville finds that morality in the United States (his subject of democratic analysis) is similarly not founded in critical philosophy; he observes that there is no country “less occupied with philosophy.”[16] Indeed, Tocqueville goes so far as to consider the Americans of his study almost incapable of the sort of critical questioning Socrates often engaged in; such is their relation with Christianity. He writes that Christianity “reigns not only as a philosophy that is adopted after examination, but as a religion that is believed without discussion.”[17] From this unshakeable religious foundation, Tocqueville observes that Americans draw forth their moral laws.

Tocqueville finds a far more pragmatic understanding of justice in America that in Europe and its ancient philosophy. He writes that the American understanding of justice lacks the “lofty ideals,” of its European counterpart; it doesn’t hold “that it is glorious to forget oneself and that it is fitting to do good without self-interest like God himself.”[18] Instead, he marvels that it is Americans “enlightened love of themselves,” that “constantly brings them to aid each other.”[19] What’s most interesting is that Tocqueville sees at the root of this commitment to individual justice is habit — rather than devotion. Americans’ love of themselves “bring them near to (devotion to justice) insensibly through habits.”[20] Tocqueville also seems to find, stemming from this religious moral foundation, a society of individuals striving for justice. When contrasting a relatively classless American society with England, Tocqueville finds “a hidden tendency that often makes men cooperate for the general prosperity despite their vices or errors.”[21] Although he finds democratic legislators less skilled and less knowledgeable than their aristocratic counterparts, Tocqueville sees American legislators as far more likely to push legislation in a direction “more useful to humanity.”[22]

Interestingly, Tocqueville also argues that the greatest threats to this American system lie in the potential of society to devolve into one that seeks to enforce societal justice. The first, his feared “Tyranny of the majority,” results from an overactive majority who, unconstrained by the American political system, is able to exercise near total control over all aspects of each individual’s life.[23] Secondly, and far more familiarly, Tocqueville illustrates tutelary despotism — the fall of American society as each individual’s focus grows narrowly inwards. He imagines Americans slowly abdicating their communal responsibilities and commitments to each other, instead focusing on their own personal economic pursuits, and thus making room for a “paternal power,” that is “absolute, detailed, regular, far seeing, and mild,” to step in and fill that role.[24] Such a political authority is certainly reminiscent of Plato’s Just Society; it seeks to regulate, to push, and most importantly to shape society in an image that fits broader society’s justice, and therefore destroying those things that pushed Democratic citizens towards individual justice.

Bibliography

Plato. The Republic of Plato. Translated by Allan Bloom. New York. NY: Basic Books, 1968.

Tocqueville, Alexis De. Democracy in America. Translated by Harvey C. Mansfield and Debra Winthrop. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 2000.

[1] Plato, Republic, 360b

[2] Plato, Republic, 337a

[3] Plato, Republic, 414e

[4] Plato, Republic, 433a

[5] Plato, Republic, 370c

[6] Plato, Republic, 475b

[7] Plato, Republic, 515d

[8] Plato, Republic, 520b

[9] Plato, Republic, 488b

[10] Plato, Republic, 488d

[11] Plato, Republic, 488d

[12] Plato, Republic, 521b

[13] Plato, Republic, 520a

[14] Plato, Republic, 461d

[15] Plato, Republic, 557c

[16] Tocqueville, Democracy in America, 403

[17] Tocqueville, Democracy in America, 406

[18] Tocqueville, Democracy in America, 500

[19] Tocqueville, Democracy in America, 502

[20] Tocqueville, Democracy in America, 502

[21] Tocqueville, Democracy in America, 224

[22] Tocqueville, Democracy in America, 222

[23] Tocqueville, Democracy in America, 239

[24] Tocqueville, Democracy in America, 663

--

--

Matt Singleton

Studying Politics and Philosophy at Davidson College, writing to make sense of a world gone wild