Alcibiades 2 (143-147)

Soc. So then, to my mind the poet spoke well and soundly; but if you have thought of an answer to his words, do not be silent.

Alc. It is difficult, Socrates, to gainsay what has been well spoken: one thing, however, I do observe —how many evils are caused to men by ignorance, when, as it seems, we are beguiled by her not only into doing, but—worst of all—into praying to be granted the greatest evils. Now that is a thing that no one would suppose of himself; each of us would rather suppose he was competent to pray for his own greatest good, not his greatest evil. Why, that would seem, in truth, more like some sort of curse than a prayer!

Soc. But perhaps, my excellent friend, some person who is wiser than either you or I may say we are wrong to be so free with our abuse of ignorance, unless we can add that it is ignorance of certain things, and is a good to certain persons in certain conditions, as to those others it is an evil.

Alc. How do you mean? Can there be anything of which it is better for anybody, in any condition whatsoever, to be ignorant than cognizant?

Soc. I believe so; and do not you?

Alc. No, indeed, upon my word.

Soc. But surely I shall not have to tax you with an inclination to commit such an act against your own mother as Orestes and Alcmaeon, and any others who have followed their example, are said to have committed against theirs.

Alc. No unlucky words, in Heaven’s name, Socrates!

Soc. Why, it is not the person who says, Alcibiades, that you would not like to be guilty of such an act, whom you should bid avoid unlucky words, but much rather him who might say the contrary; since the act seems to you so very dreadful as to be unfit even for such casual mention. But do you think that Orestes, if he had had all his wits about him and had known what was best for him to do, would have brought himself to commit any act of the sort?

Alc. No, indeed.

Soc. Nor would anyone else, I imagine.

Alc. No.

Soc. Then it seems that ignorance of what is best, and to be ignorant of the best, is a bad thing.

Alc. I agree.

Soc. And not only for the person himself, but for everyone else?

Alc. Yes.

Soc. Then let us consider this further case. Suppose it should quite suddenly occur to your mind that you had better take a dagger and go to the door of Pericles, your own guardian and friend, and ask if he were at home, with the design of killing just him and no one else, and his servants said he was at home: now, I do not say you would be inclined to do any such thing, but I suppose, if you are under the impression which at some moment may well be present, surely, to the mind of a man who is ignorant of the best—that what is really the worst is best at some moment—or do you not agree?

Alc. Quite so.

Soc. Well then, if you went indoors and saw Pericles himself, but did not know him, and thought he was somebody else, would you still venture to kill him?

Alc. No, upon my word, I should think not.

Soc. For your man was, I presume, not anyone you met, but that particular person whom you wished to kill?

Alc. Yes.

Soc. And although you might make a number of attempts, if you always failed to know Pericles when you were about to commit the act, you would never attack him.

Alc. No, indeed.

Soc. Well now, do you suppose that Orestes would ever have attacked his mother if he had similarly failed to know her?

Alc. I do not think he would.

Soc. For presumably he, too, had no intention of killing the first woman he met, or anybody else’s mother, but only his own.

Alc. That is so.

Soc. Then to be ignorant in such matters is better for those who are so disposed and have formed such resolves.

Alc. Apparently.

Soc. So you see that ignorance of certain things is for certain persons in certain states a good, not an evil, as you supposed just now.

Alc. It seems to be.

Soc. Then if you care to consider the sequel of this, I daresay it will surprise you.

Alc. What may that be, Socrates?

Soc. I mean that, generally speaking, it rather looks as though the possession of the sciences as a whole, if it does not include possession of the science of the best, will in a few instances help, but in most will harm, the owner. Consider it this way: must it not be the case, in your opinion, that when we are about to do or say anything, we first suppose that we know, or do really know, the thing we so confidently intend to say or do?

Alc. I think so.

Soc. Well, take the orators, for example: they either know, or think they know, how to advise us on various occasions—some about war and peace, and others about building walls or fitting up harbors; and in a word, whatever the city does to another city or within herself, all comes about by the advice of the orators.

Alc. That is true.

Soc. Then observe the consequence.

Alc. If I am able.

Soc. Why, surely you call men either wise or unwise?

Alc. I do.

Soc. And the many unwise, and the few wise?

Alc. Precisely.

Soc. And in either case you name them in reference to something?

Alc. Yes.

Soc. Then do you call a man wise who knows how to give advice, without knowing whether and when it is better to act upon it?

Alc. No, indeed.

Soc. Nor, I conceive, a man who knows what war is in itself, without knowing when or for how long a time it is better to make war?

Alc. Agreed.

Soc. Nor, again, a man who knows how to kill another, or seize his property, or make him an exile from his native land, without knowing when or to whom it is better so to behave?

Alc. No, to be sure.

Soc. Then it is a man who knows something of this sort, and is assisted by knowledge of what is best,—and this is surely the same as knowledge of the useful, is it not?

Alc. Yes.

Soc. And we shall call him wise, and a competent adviser both of the city and of his own self; but a man not so qualified we shall call the opposite of these. How do you think?

Alc. I agree.

Soc. And what of a man who knows how to ride or shoot, or else to box or wrestle or contend in any other sport, or do anything that we know by rule of art? What do you call him who knows what is better done by rule of that particular art? Do you not say that he who goes by the rules of riding is a good rider?

Alc. I do.

Soc. And the rules of boxing, I suppose, make a good boxer, and those of flute-playing a good flute-player, and so, on the same lines, [*] I presume, with the rest; or is there any difference?

Alc. No, it is as you say.

Soc. Then do you think it inevitable that he who has some knowledge about these things should also be a wise man, or shall we say he comes far short of it?

Alc. Far short of it, I declare.

Soc. Then what sort of state do you suppose it would be, where the people were good bowmen and flute-players, together with athletes and artists in general, and mingled with these the men whom we have just mentioned as knowing war in itself and slaughter in itself, and orator-windbags too with their political bluster, but all of them lacked this knowledge of the best, and none knew when or upon whom it was better to employ their respective arts?

Alc. A paltry one, I should call it, Socrates.

Soc. Yes, you would, I expect, when you saw each one of them vying with the other and assigning the largest part in the conduct of the state to that

Wherein himself is found most excellent,

Eur. Antiope, Fr. [*] I mean, what is done best by rule of his particular art—while he is entirely off the track of what is best for the state and for himself, because, I conceive, he has put his trust in opinion apart from intelligence. In these circumstances, should we not be right in saying that such a state is one great mass of turmoil and lawlessness?

Alc. We should, upon my word.

Soc. And we took it to be necessary that we should first think we know, or really know, anything that we confidently intend either to do or to say?

Alc. We did.

Soc. And if a man does what he knows or thinks he knows, and is assisted by knowing how to make it beneficial, we shall find him profitable both to the city and to himself?

Alc. Certainly.

Soc. But if, I suppose, he does the contrary, he will not be so either to the city or to himself?

Alc. No, indeed.

Soc. Well then, do you still take the same view now as before, or do you think differently?

Alc. No, I take the same view.

Soc. And you said you called the many unwise, and the few wise?

Alc. I did.

Soc. So now we repeat our statement that the many have missed getting the best because in most cases, I conceive, they have put their trust in opinion apart from intelligence.

Alc. Yes.

Soc. Then it is an advantage to the many neither to know nor to think they know anything, if they are going to be specially eager to do what they know or think they know, but are likely on the whole, in doing it, to be injured rather than benefited.

Alc. That is very true.

Soc. So you see that when I said it looked as though the possession of the sciences as a whole, where it did not include the science of the best, in a few cases helped, but in most harmed the owner, I was evidently right in very truth, was I not?

Alc. Though I did not then, I think so now, Socrates.

Soc. Hence the state or soul that is to live aright must hold fast to this knowledge, exactly as a sick man does to a doctor, or as he who would voyage safely does to a pilot. For without this, the more briskly it is wafted by fortune either to the acquisition of wealth or to bodily strength or aught else of the sort, the greater will be the mistakes in which these things, it would seem, must needs involve it. And he who has acquired the so-called mastery of learning and arts, but is destitute of this knowledge and impelled by this or that one among those others, is sure to meet with much rough weather, as he truly deserves; since, I imagine, he must continue without a pilot on the high seas, and has only the brief span of his life in which to run his course. So that his case aptly fits the saying of the poet, in which he complains of somebody or other that

Full many crafts he knew: but still

He knew them all so very ill.

Margites, Fr. [*]

Alc. Why, how on earth is the poet’s saying apposite, Socrates? For to my mind it has nothing to do with the point.

Soc. It is very much to the point: but he, good sir, like almost every other poet, speaks in riddles. For poetry as a whole is by nature inclined to riddling, and it is not every man who can apprehend it. And furthermore, besides having this natural tendency, when it gets hold of a grudging person who wishes not to show forth to us his own wisdom but to conceal it as much as possible, we find it an extraordinarily difficult matter to make out whatever this or that one of them may mean. For surely you do not suppose that Homer, divinest and wisest of poets, did not know it was impossible to know ill; for it is he who says of Margites that he knew many things, but knew them all ill: but it is a riddle, I think, in which he has made ill stand for evil, and knew for to know. So if we put it together, letting the meter go, indeed, but grasping his meaning, we get this: Full many crafts he knew, but it was evil for him to know them all. [*] Then clearly, if it was evil for him to know many things, he was in fact a paltry fellow, assuming we are to believe what we have previously argued.

Alc. But I think we may, Socrates: at least, if I cannot believe those arguments of ours, I shall find it hard to trust any others.

Soc. And you are right in so thinking.

Alc. I repeat that I think so.