9.6: The Third Proof- True Pleasures

See 583b-587b. “Observe then, that the other pleasures – apart from that of the knowledgeable person – are neither entirely true nor pure.” “But what exactly do you mean?” asks Glaucon. “I will find out, if you answer the questions while I ask them.” In working out his thoughts, Socrates first makes a distinction between enjoyment and relief from pain. Much of what people consider pleasant – eating when famished, scratching an itch, emptying an especially full bladder – is really just pain relief. One is moving from a state of irritation to a state of relative calm in the soul. In contrast, consider walking past a lilac bush in bloom, or conversing with a good friend after dinner over a crème caramel and a cup of dark coffee. Socrates calls pleasures such as these “pure” because they don’t require discomfort in order to be experienced. Is it his view, then, that pure pleasures are always greater than impure pleasures? Would he say, for instance, that the pleasure of basking in the sun after a satisfying meal is greater than that of philosophizing in pursuit of wisdom (a pleasure of anticipation, hence, an impure pleasure)? No, for some pleasures are “truer” than others, and the truer a pleasure is, the greater it is. Socrates explains that the more we are “filled with what is appropriate to our nature,” the truer is the pleasure we feel. And we are “filled” more by things which “are” more, “which partake more of pure being.” Forms “are” more than the particular things we encounter through our senses. They are eternal and unchanging and the basis for understanding the nature of reality. Knowledge of the forms therefore fills us more than anything else can, and so, causes in us the truest of pleasures. This is why a pleasure such as anticipating knowledge of the form of the good is greater than a pleasure such as basking in the sun after a satisfying meal. Although the pleasure of basking in the sun is purer, philosophizing in anticipation of wisdom is truer. (As Mill puts it, “better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied.”) Socrates concludes that souls ruled by the rational part are doubly blessed. As lovers of wisdom, they enjoy the truest of pleasures. But also, because the rational part understands the relative worth of pleasures, the spirited and appetitive parts are able to attain under its guidance the truest pleasures possible for them. The appetitive part may think it wants a McDonalds’ hamburger; the rational part, knowing best what pleases the appetitive part, gets The Joy of Cooking down off the shelf. The spirited part may think it wants to be widely admired; the rational part, knowing that the only praise worth having is from a virtuous person, has the spirited part spur the soul on to be worthy of such praise. Because the spirited and appetitive parts are generally better satisfied in an aristocratic soul, and the rational part is uniquely well satisfied, it follows that the just person lives the most fulfilling of lives, and is therefore the happiest of human beings.

• So has Socrates successfully met Glaucon’s challenge? Let’s revisit the ideally just person, alone in his cell, facing death by torture in the morning. His appetitive part doesn’t have much to look forward to that isn’t pretty dreadful. His spirited part, always courageous, does its job and keeps the appetitive part from whimpering. But how pleasant a job is this? How does it compare, for instance, with the glory of toppling the tyrant currently lording over the city (or even with the glory of becoming neighborhood darts champion)? If Socrates is right, and the just person unjustly facing death by torture is actually happier than the unjust person widely admired for his apparent virtues, then the reason for this happiness has to come down to those pleasures of the rational part of the soul to which the just person has unique access. Ultimately, if Socrates has a case, it must rest on the special joy possessed by the philosopher who has come to know the forms, and in particular the form of the good. What would this be like, to know the form of the good? The experience Socrates has in mind may be something akin to what Buddhists call “enlightenment” or what Western theists call “the presence of God,” for it is supposed to be an encounter between a human being and that which is of greatest value in reality. Recall the passage from 486a-b: “And do you imagine that a thinker who is high-minded enough to look at all time and all being will consider human life to be a very important thing?” “He couldn’t possibly.” “Then he won’t consider death to be a terrible thing either, will he?” “Not in the least.” The person who comes to know the form of the good has, arguably, completed life’s quest. Would this be happiness?

• Socrates likens the people who “feed, fatten, and fornicate” to a container that leaks. “Never tasting any stable or pure pleasure,” they are forced to satisfy their recurring desires again and again. Suppose one of these leaky vessels were to go to Socrates and say: “But don’t you see, I look forward to hunger and thirst and the surges of sexual desire. I treasure my curiosity and my wanderlust. Not only don’t I mind the recurrence of these appetites, but I would very much mind if I didn’t have them. If my vessel didn’t have holes, I would knock holes in it for the joy that holes bring!” (Callicles is more or less expressing this view in the Gorgias at 494a-b.) How might Socrates reply?

• What does it mean to call a pleasure “stable”? That it lasts for hours, days, years? Suppose someone were to object that there is no such thing as a long- term state of pleasure, that the experience inevitably comes to be taken for granted and ceases to be appreciated. How might Socrates reply?

• Socrates says that he will find out what he means if he asks the questions and Glaucon answers them. Does Socrates need other people in order tothink?