Apology Summary & Analysis

Socrates’ defense—or apologia, in Ancient Greek—begins after his accusers have read the deposition outlining the charges against him. As such, Apology is only a partial document of the entire trial, though Socrates meticulously addresses each of his detractors’ arguments, thereby making it easy to intuit what they’ve said about him. By using the phrase “men of Athens” to address the jury, he also subtly reminds the jurors that they are representatives of the city’s inhabitants, thereby underlining their responsibility to uphold the interests of the city and its commitment to democracy. In turn, he underhandedly discourages them from siding with his accusers for biased reasons that aren’t based on what happens in the trial. On another note, it’s worth noting that Socrates takes issue with the idea that he’s an “accomplished speaker,” a small detail that helps him establish his commitment not to rhetoric and persuasion, but to the unadorned truth.

Socrates goes out of his way to establish that he won’t employ rhetorical trickery to confuse or persuade the jurors. To make this point, he calls attention to the fact that his mode of conversing is actually quite colloquial, the kind of language one might use “in the marketplace.” By emphasizing the simplicity of his oratory skills, then, Socrates encourages the jury to focus on what he’s about say rather than whether or not he’s being deceptive. His accusers, on the other hand, use “embroidered and stylized phrases.” In comparison to Socrates’s straightforward linguistic style, this affected manner of speaking seems dubious and disingenuous.

In this moment, Socrates clarifies that there are two groups of people who have accused him. Unfortunately, the first group is a handful of unidentified men who have marred his name over the course of many years. The vagueness and anonymity of this group makes it hard for Socrates to provide a solid defense of himself, as he understands that finding the truth often means closely examining the specifics of a given matter. Since his earliest accusers are not present to answer his questions, though, he cannot interrogate them in his normal fashion, a dialectical mode of questioning now known as the Socratic Method.

Socrates clearly lays out the charges made against him so that he can systematically address each accusation. He applies this careful and methodical approach because he knows that it is difficult to defend oneself against unknown detractors. As such, he wants to show the jurors that he’s concerned first and foremost with finding the truth and doing so in a detailed, organized way. What’s more, when he says that he’s on trial because of his interest in “studying things in the sky and below the earth,” it becomes clear that his fellow Athenians are uncomfortable with the idea of someone who carefully examines their religious beliefs. In keeping with this, they are also wary of rhetorically cunning thinkers who are capable of advancing unconventional arguments. Given that Socrates is a philosopher who takes it upon himself to study the ways in which people think, it’s unsurprising that these Athenians would find his intellectual pursuits threatening.

Socrates goes out of his way to differentiate himself from Aristophanes’s representation of him in a play entitled The Clouds, in which Socrates appears as an intellectual trickster who teaches young men how to argue convincingly against others even when their positions are weak and unsound. It is important for Socrates to establish the fact that he does not engage in this kind of activity, since many Athenians associate him with the Sophists—teachers of philosophy and rhetoric who charge exorbitant sums, take advantage of rich families, and turn their pupils into wordsmiths void of any true sense of morality. This, at least, is the unfavorable opinion held by Plato, though historians and scholars remain uncertain about whether or not all Athenians were this critical of the Sophists. Nonetheless, it’s important to understand that Socrates wants to separate himself from the Sophists in the minds of the jurors, as he insists not only that he doesn’t accept money for his teachings, but also that he isn’t clever enough to make a living in this manner. In turn, he again presents himself as someone who speaks and acts straightforwardly and without rhetorical embroidery.

When Socrates anticipates this question from the jury, he emphasizes the extent to which his fellow Athenians are hesitant to embrace anything that is “out of the common.” Since he is a free-thinking philosopher who—by virtue of his “occupation”—studies the ways in which people think, it’s unsurprising that the jurors would think he engages in activities that are “other than [how] most people” behave. By highlighting this dynamic, he demonstrates just how hesitant these men are to critically examine their own beliefs.

The Ancient Greeks believed that the god Apollo spoke directly through a priestess (the “Pythian”) who lived in Delphi, which they upheld was the center of the world. Socrates references the Delphic oracle because, as he states in this moment, the Pythian has asserted that there is no one wiser than him. This is important, as it contextualizes Socrates’ previous claim that he possesses “human wisdom,” which has gained him a certain reputation that his accusers are now using against him. By insisting that the Delphic oracle believes in his wisdom, Socrates ultimately casts himself as a pious man rather than someone who doesn’t believe in the gods.

When Socrates tests the Delphic oracle’s message, he learns that the only truly valuable kind of “human wisdom” has to do with a person’s willingness to acknowledge and accept his or her own ignorance. Indeed, the only reason Socrates is any wiser than his contemporaries is that he understands that he isn’t wise at all. In turn, he sets forth a model of wisdom that depends upon humility—something the politician to whom he speaks apparently lacks.

Once again, Socrates suggests that only those humble enough to admit their own intellectual shortcomings are wise. Unfortunately, though, he has found that Athenian society celebrates the community’s various experts so much that they become vain and overly self-assured. In turn, they are unable—or perhaps unwilling—to recognize the fact that expertise in one area doesn’t necessarily lead to an all-encompassing sense of wisdom. Socrates, on the other hand, understands the depths of his own ignorance, and this makes him wiser than his fellow Athenians.

Yet again, Socrates emphasizes the importance of humility when it comes to assessing one’s own knowledge. Rather than letting expertise in a certain field lead to a prevailing sense of vanity and confidence, he suggests, one should continue to critically examine the nature of his or her wisdom.

By this point in his defense, Socrates has asserted not only that he is the wisest man in Athens, but that all human wisdom is “worthless.” In turn, he intimates that only divine wisdom is valuable, thereby demonstrating his unfailing faith in the gods—an important thing to keep in mind as his apologia continues, since his piety is something he must prove to the jury.

Socrates makes a noteworthy point when he says that his detractors’ accusations are the same ones that people make against all philosophers. By saying this, he calls attention to just how uncomfortable people are around philosophers, since philosophers take it upon themselves to think critically about important matters. This, of course, often means challenging the prevailing structures of belief, which is why many Athenians are quick to accuse philosophers of corrupting the youth, since they are themselves unwilling to thoughtfully examining their worldviews. In this way, Socrates portrays his accusers as intellectually lazy and narrowminded. 

Now that Socrates has defended himself against his unidentified “earlier accusers,” he employs his characteristic dialogic technique—now known as the Socratic Method—to cross-examine Meletus, ultimately attempting to straightforwardly unveil the flaws in his accuser’s rhetoric by asking simple questions. Interestingly enough, this is the same kind of conversational behavior that got him in trouble in the first place, since it is only through questioning important men that he has gained an unseemly reputation in Athens. Nevertheless, Socrates proceeds in his normal manner, thereby demonstrating to the jury that he believes wholeheartedly in finding the truth, regardless of whether or not people take issue with his methods.

It’s clear in this moment that Socrates is working his way toward a certain point, though it’s not yet apparent what, exactly, he has in mind. And though he’s employing a rhetorical technique, there’s no denying that he’s only asking Meletus to clarify what has already been said. As such, he encourages his accuser to thoughtfully examine his own assertions. In other words, Socrates simply wants Meletus to speak clearly, and this indicates his desire to access the truth. In turn, it’s evident that Socrates isn’t using persuasive trickery to “make the worse argument the stronger,” but simply applying levelheaded intellectual pressure to Meletus’s argument.

When Socrates says that horse breeders improve horses while the general population “corrupt[s]” them, he suggests that negative influences are abundant, whereas positive influences are unfortunately rare. If he himself were a bad influence on young Athenians, then, it would be highly unlikely that he’d be the only person to “corrupt” them. And in any case, he clearly doesn’t think he is a bad influence. Rather, he sees himself as equivalent to a horse breeder, in that he “improves” the Athenian youth in the same way that a breeder might “improve” a horse. 

Socrates uncovers Meletus’s faulty reasoning by simply asking him questions. In turn, it becomes obvious that Meletus has not fully thought through the implications of his accusation that Socrates “deliberately” harms the people around him. After all, if Socrates purposely corrupted his fellow Athenians, then he would be harming himself, at least according to Meletus’ assertion that a person can be negatively influenced by his “associates.” 

In this moment, Socrates suggests that Meletus is the one who has failed to uphold his moral responsibility, which is to “instruct” those who unwittingly spread wickedness throughout Athens. By making this implication, Socrates ultimately invites the jurors to consider the notion that he has been mistreated. Of course, he knows he has not “corrupted” the youth, but he proceeds as if he has in order to demonstrate to the jury that even if Meletus’ accusations were true, there would still be no reason to treat this as a legal matter.

Once more, Socrates encourages Meletus to clarify his accusations. Since Meletus admits that no one can believe in “spiritual activities who does not believe in spirits,” it follows that Socrates must believe in spirits. By establishing this point, Socrates methodically makes his way toward a defense of his religious faith and overall piety.

It’s worth noting Socrates’s use of the word “we” when he says, “Do we not believe spirits to be either gods or the children of gods?” By using this plural pronoun, Socrates aligns himself with his fellow Athenians, suggesting that he shares their beliefs. What’s more, he takes a rather scolding tone, as if Meletus is the one deviating from the religious beliefs that prevail throughout Athens. Furthermore, by revealing Meletus’s contradictory argument, Socrates frames his chief accuser as incompetent and intellectually lazy and, thus, untrustworthy.

At this point in his defense, Socrates shows the jury the strength of his moral integrity, something to which he remains faithful regardless of what other people think. As a result, he remains unbothered by the possibility that he might receive a death penalty, for he believes that a person should only ask himself “whether he is acting like a good or a bad man.” Needless to say, Socrates is confident that he’s acting like a good man, and though this perhaps doesn’t align with what people like Meletus and Anytus think, he refuses to feel “ashamed” for the way he has chosen to comport himself.

Socrates’s ideas about mortality are directly related to his convictions about wisdom. Simply put, he never wants to make any assumptions about matters about which he knows nothing. This, of course, is precisely why the Delphic oracle has dubbed him the wisest man in Athens—he does not presume to know things he does not know. In addition, this perspective also relates to Socrates’s dedication to finding the truth, since his reluctance to assume death is bad illustrates his staunch unwillingness to adopt uninformed or intellectually lazy worldviews.

Once again, Socrates impresses upon the jurors the strength of his own moral integrity. Even though this apologia is a chance to placate his accusers and possibly avoid the death penalty, he refuses to “cease” practicing philosophy, for he believes that in doing so he is serving “the god” (Apollo). By saying this, he not only expresses a sense of ethical responsibility, but also refutes the accusation that he is impious, since he sees his philosophical practice as a religious endeavor.

Comparing himself to a “gadfly” that “stir[s]” a horse, Socrates acknowledges the fact that many of his fellow Athenians see him as nothing more than a nuisance. However, he also suggests that he is a necessary nuisance, since he takes it upon himself to improve those around him. Unfortunately, his efforts are sometimes difficult to appreciate, since he encourages people to recognize their own shortcomings. Nonetheless, he upholds, having someone like him is a “gift” from “the god,” and because he is so pious, he refuses to stop treating his fellow citizens in this manner. 

When Socrates says that “a man who really fights for justice must lead a private” life, he hints at the fact that the current political climate in Athens is unfit for morally upstanding individuals. If someone like him—with a strong moral compass and an unyielding sense of honor—cannot “survive” as a public official, then this must mean that Athens is failing to uphold the democratic values of justice and morality.

During the Peloponnesian War—which took place between 431 and 404 BC—the Delian League (from Athens) fought against the Peloponnesian League (from Sparta). Eventually, the Spartans overtook Athens and installed an oppressive oligarchy known as the Thirty Tyrants. Even under the cruel and unyielding governance of the Thirty, Socrates refused to betray his ethical convictions. By telling this story, Socrates shows the jury how thoroughly committed he is to maintaining his moral integrity.

Many scholars and readers of Plato believe Socrates disapproved of democracy (this is largely based on the opinions he expresses in Plato’s The Republic). However, it’s worth considering this moment, in which Socrates refuses to manipulate the jury by crying and pleading for their forgiveness. On the one hand, this refusal indicates that he thinks democracy is a system that is subject to emotional manipulation and, as such, is inherently flawed. On the other hand, his assertion that people who manipulate the jury “bring shame upon the city” suggests that he believes acting this way disrespects the values for which Athens stands. This, it seems, indicates a certain reverence for what Athenian democracy could be, though it’s obvious Socrates doesn’t think his contemporaries are properly enforcing or living up to this standard. Regardless, it’s clear that Socrates is critical of democracy—whether or not this means he completely disapproves of it as an effective mode of governance remains unclear (at least in this text).

Again, scholars debate whether or not Socrates believed in democracy as an effective mode of governance. And though nothing in Apology provides a definitive answer regarding this debate, it’s worth noting that his unwillingness to let the jurors perjure themselves in court suggests that he wants to help his fellow Athenians operate as a just and honest governing body. Furthermore, his willingness to let himself be judged “in the way that will be best” for everyone involved indicates that—despite his misgivings—he respects the current system enough to abide by it.

When Socrates considers what penalty he should receive, he delivers a tongue-in-cheek summary of what he has done to “deserve” punishment, reminding the jury that he has “neglected” to live “a quiet life” full of “wealth” and cushy governmental positions. In turn, he subtly suggests once more that he is being prosecuted simply because he has lived a life that is “out of the common.” Indeed, Meletus and his cronies are made uncomfortable by Socrates’ unconventional ways of thinking and behaving, which is why they have sought to destroy him.

This is perhaps the first and only time in his defense that Socrates actually advocates for himself, though he is of course being facetious, since he knows the jury will not reward him. And yet, he’s also being serious when he says he won’t purposefully “wrong” himself, as this would go against his views. Even in jest, then, Socrates demonstrates the strength of his moral integrity.

Once again, Socrates demonstrates that he doesn’t fear death. After all, it would be rather easy, it seems, for him to avoid the death penalty by suggesting that he be banished from Athens. However, he knows he’ll never stop upholding and enforcing his values, and so he makes his peace with the idea of dying for these values, upholding that “the unexamined life is not worth living.”

It’s worth mentioning here that this is the second time Socrates has mentioned Plato by name. In this case, he makes it clear that Plato is among his supporters who are willing to financially vouch for him. Despite the fact that Socrates sets this penalty, though, it’s clear he doesn’t truly see it as a punishment, since he isn’t—and has never been—concerned with money. Indeed, he has already gone out of his way to establish this while proving to the jury that he isn’t a Sophist.

Once again, Socrates suggests that trying to manipulate the jury by acting hysterically is shameful and disrespectful of the entire judicial process. This is why he stands by the manner in which he has delivered his defense. Indeed, he is so committed to presenting the truth that he refuses to “supplicate” his detractors, who he insists will soon feel “guilt[y]” for needlessly killing one of their fellow citizens.

Although Socrates has been found guilty of—among other things—impiety, it’s clear that he is strongly devoted to spirituality and, thus, the gods. This is made evident by the fact that he references the “spiritual’ and “prophetic power” that guides him, ultimately holding it up as proof that he has done the right thing by allowing himself to be sentenced to death.

Again, Socrates appears unfazed by the fact that he is going to be put to death. This is unsurprising, considering that he doesn’t think death—an unknown—is something a person should consider when contemplating whether or not to do the right thing. In keeping with this, his only concern is that his fellow Athenians make sure his sons embody this kind of virtue. What’s more, his parting words not only reiterate the fact that death is an unknown, but also hint at his concern that the jurors—who have acted immorally—have ultimately harmed themselves by sentencing him to death.