Irreconcilable Senses of Good (27 Oct 2023; Aristotle/Plato/Socrates)

Aristotle’s Metaphysics, the cave story in Plato’s republic, and the Apology of Socrates all present ideas of a human good, and a good which refers to something more than human. In this essay, I will argue that these texts open a hierarchy of dualism between the two senses of good in which the human good is subservient and the two senses of good cannot be reconciled, existing only in conflict with one another. In my discourse, I’ll prove my thesis over the course of a few parts. First, I’ll introduce the different types of good that the texts present. Next, I’ll describe the tension between the two senses of good, explicating their resistance to one another. Finally, I’ll show how the tension created spawns an impasse between the two senses of good, which cannot be reconciled. 

Aristotle presents two different categories of knowledge; phronesis and theoria. Phronesis pertains to the human good, as it is knowledge of causes that pertain to some end other than knowledge itself, as if for a practical or demonstrative purpose. Theoria pertains to Aristotle’s highest good; it is sophia, philosophical knowledge, and is not a human good but rather the, “best thing in the whole of nature,” (Met. 982b8), and can be understood as “knowing and understanding for their own sakes” (Met. 982a32). Aristotle sums up the hierarchy between the two kinds of knowledge in chapter two of book one: “among the kinds of knowledge, we assume the one that is for its own sake and chosen for the sake of knowing more to be wisdom than the one chosen for the sake of results, and that the more ruling one is wisdom more so than the more subordinate one” (Met. 982a16), and that “The most ruling of the kinds of knowledge, or the one more ruling than what is subordinate to it, is the one that knows for what purpose each thing must be done; and this is the good of each thing, and in general the best thing in the whole of nature” (Met. 982b). Whereas phronesis must be concerned with particulars, theoria is exclusively concerned with universal truths. Both are forms of wisdom that seek causes (theoria searching for first causes (Met. 982a30-b1)), the difference is in the intentions of the types of knowledge. What’s most good is to be grasped outside of ourselves; to admire something that does not concern us at all, rather than the human good, associated with our affairs and politics. Aristotle reinforces this in his Nicomachean Ethics: “It is absurd for anyone to believe that politics or practical judgment is the most serious kind of knowledge” (Nic. Ethics VI, 7).

Plato draws a similar distinction between senses of good while describing the cave image in his Republic. Prisoners are born in shackles in the cave, forced to look at shadows on the wall in front of them, unable to turn their heads to see anything else. This is their reality, they know nothing different, as there is no way for them to know anything different. Eventually, one of the prisoners is forcefully dragged from their shackles and taken to the top of the cave, where they’re blinded by the light of the sun. Slowly, they begin to adapt, first seeing dark things and eventually being able to gaze at the sun itself. The image is analogous to the journey of philosophical enlightenment, where one goes from concern of political matters to concern of something more than human. For Plato, when we see the sun after leaving the cave, we are “looking at that which is and the brightest part of that which is. And we affirm that this is the good” (Rep. 518c). The freed prisoner would see the sun as the source of everything, a first cause, divine and more than human. 

Aristotle presents the two different types of good in a dualistic arrangement, rather than placing them in a simple dichotomy. The highest good in all of nature is “better” than the human good: as quoted earlier, the “most ruling” kind of knowledge is to detach from practical human affairs and see something more divine and true, and that it is “absurd for anyone to believe that politics or practical judgment is the most serious kind of knowledge” (Nic. Ethics VI, 7). This hierarchy is presupposed in his writing, that what is closest to “divine knowledge” is what is best. Additionally, he believes that those that possess this type of wisdom are more qualified to rule than those who are purely concerned with human matters (though they must have some knowledge of the particulars to have phronesis): “we assume the [knowledge] that is for its own sake… more to be wisdom than the one chosen for the sake of results, and that the more ruling one is wisdom more so than the more subordinate one; for the wise man ought not to be commanded but to give orders, and ought not to obey someone else, but the less wise ought to obey him” (Met. 982a10). Plato agrees with Aristotle on this, who believes that those who are enlightened can see “ten thousand times better than the men [in the cave], and [the enlightened will] know what each of the phantoms is… the city will be governed by us and by you in a state of waking” (Rep. 520). This dualism lays the foundation for a tension between the two kinds of good, elaborated upon in the Republic.

Tension between the senses of good is apparent early in the depiction of the cave image, as Plato describes the process of the prisoner’s release from their shackles and ascent up the cave. The prisoner does not voluntarily leave the cave; rather, Plato says that, “someone dragged him away from there by force… and didn't let him go before he had dragged him out into the light of the sun, wouldn't he be distressed and annoyed at being so dragged? And when he came to the light, wouldn't he have his eyes full of its beam and be unable to see even one of the things now said to be true?” (Rep. 515e-516a). The prisoner’s resistance is analogous to the resistance of the general population to philosophical enlightenment; it is a forceful decision to undergo this journey, an uncomfortable one, and one that results in distress and annoyance. The prisoners think that their reality (the human good) is what’s best, so they resist leaving the cave. We want what we think is good; the prisoners think that the cave and the images is what is good, but they have not seen and therefore do not know anything else, and cannot know any other kind of good. However, once exposed to that other kind of good (represented by the sun as the most divine cause), the prisoner changes their mind; they would  “undergo anything whatsoever

rather than to opine those things and [return to the cave]” (Rep. 516d). Once established, neither wishes to leave their respective worlds; the prisoner resists enlightenment, and the enlightened resists a return to the cave. The philosophers have experienced both goods, the “human good” in the cave, and the philosophical good outside the cave, and choose the philosophical over the human, reinforcing the dualism and tension between the two.

This tension between the two senses of good proves to be irreconcilable. One might argue that the two senses of good are inseparable; that we never fully leave the cave, because as humans, we are tethered to the human good. A philosopher can not pull people from the cave if there is nobody to pull from the cave, and the ideal ruler for Plato and Aristotle is one that has a philosophical vision of the good, which requires an intermingling of the human good and the sense of good beyond what is human. With these points, I agree, but the tension between philosophy and the human good is still irreconcilable. 

When the two senses of good intertwine in the ideal ruler, there is always one sense more dominant than the other, each remaining distinct from one another. Those who leave the cave do not wish to re-enter the cave and aren’t willing to mind the business of the human good. Philosophers don’t care much for political affairs, and those who are unenlightened and take part in political affairs don’t care much for philosophers: “if a human, come from acts of divine contemplation to human evils, is graceless and looks quite ridiculous when… he is compelled in courts or elsewhere to contest about the shadows of the just… and dispute about the way things are understood by men who have never seen justice itself?” (Rep. 517d). This quote from the Republic complements the Apology of Socrates, which demonstrates how the human good and the sense of good beyond ourselves terminally clash, resulting in the death of Socrates, who himself is representing philosophy. Socrates is accused by the court (representing politics/the human good) of being a “wise man… who makes the worse argument the stronger” (Apology 18c), the court referring here to his practice of philosophy. The youth of Athens have made a habit of following Socrates around, to listen to him question his fellow citizens and discuss philosophy, and the youth have attempted to take up this practice too. Thus, Socrates is also accused of “corrupting the youth and making them worse deliberately” (Apology 25d). Socrates believes he garnered a negative reputation following the words of the Oracle of Delphi, which claimed that he was the wisest, so he took it upon himself to find someone wiser in the city. Having questioned many people on many matters, bringing philosophical inquiry to the polis, he dons the reputation of an annoyance to the people (Apology 22-23). The accusations against him, which condemn him to his death, show the public opinion of philosophy, and ultimately how the two conflict when the two worlds intimately interact with one another.

The human good and good which reaches beyond human affairs therefore find themselves in irreconcilable tension. I have shown how the two senses exist in a dualistic hierarchy, where one is placed above the other, and both resist each other. While there is a valid counterargument that the two senses must exist for the survival of philosophy, the tension between the two is everlasting. Ultimately, this tension results in the realm of politics ridding the polis of philosophy when the two clash.