Gorgias

At this point, Polus speaks up indignantly. He thinks Socrates’s way of pointing out Gorgias’s supposed inconsistency is very rude. Socrates says he’s happy to be set straight by Polus, as long as Polus agrees to avoid long speeches and is willing to be subjected to questioning and refutation like he and Gorgias were. Polus agrees. He starts by asking Socrates what he thinks oratory is, since Socrates disagreed with Gorgias’s view.

Socrates clarifies that Polus wants to know what sort of craft oratory is. Polus agrees, so Socrates says that he doesn’t think oratory is a craft at all; instead, he thinks it’s a “knack” that creates a certain kind of satisfaction and pleasure. He then introduces pastry baking as a comparison. It, too, is a knack for producing gratification and pleasure.

Socrates continues by explaining that, in his view, oratory is part of a practice that isn’t admirable because it isn’t actually “craftlike.” This practice appeals to clever minds; he calls it “flattery.” Practices like pastry baking, cosmetics, and sophistry are aspects of flattery, too. Oratory, in particular, is a shallow aspect of politics. Since Polus grows frustrated at this point, Gorgias chimes in to ask Socrates what he means by this.

Socrates explains that body and soul each have a state of fitness and an apparent state of fitness. For example, someone might appear to be physically fit, and only a doctor or a fitness expert could determine otherwise. Both body and soul also have crafts which apply to them. The craft for the soul is called politics, which can be divided into legislation and justice; the craft for the body likewise consists of two parts: gymnastics and medicine, which correspond to legislation and justice. In caring for body and soul, these four crafts are always concerned about what is best.

Flattery, on the other hand, divides itself into the above-named four parts, masks itself with them, and pretends to be the characters of those masks. It does not actually concern itself with what’s best, but with what’s most pleasant at the time. For example, pastry-baking might pretend to be medicine, with a pastry-baker persuading children (or childish adults) that he’s the real nutritional expert, not an actual doctor. This is an example of flattery—it’s a knack because it offers no account of the nature of its subject. Anything which lacks such an account, in Socrates’s view, cannot be a craft.

In a similar way, cosmetics wears the “mask” of gymnastics by giving an appearance of beauty, sophistry wears the mask of legislation, and oratory wears the mask of justice. So, oratory is “the counterpart in the soul to pastry baking, its counterpart in the body.” Socrates concludes his point, apologizing for having given a lengthy speech himself when he asked Polus not to do the same. He invites Polus to respond as he sees fit.

Polus says that he considers orators to be well-regarded because they hold the most power in their cities. Socrates counters that, if “having power” is defined as being good for the one who holds power, then he thinks orators hold the least power in their cities. Polus points out that orators can, like tyrants, put to death, confiscate the property of, or banish anyone they see fit. Socrates replies that in this case, orators and tyrants do little that they want to, even if they’re doing what they see fit.

Socrates argues that it isn’t good for a person who’s unintelligent to do what seems fit to him. If Polus can prove that orators have intelligence and that oratory is a craft, not flattery, then perhaps it’s true that orators have great power. Polus is baffled, so Socrates questions him in order to make his point clearer. He asks if people do things because they want the thing they’re doing at the time, or because they want the thing for the sake of which they’re doing it. For example, isn’t it true that people take medicine not because it’s pleasant, but for the sake of getting healthy? Polus agrees with all this.

Socrates suggests that people are put to death, or banished or their property confiscated, for the sake of what’s considered to be a greater good—it’s not that we want to kill or exile or confiscate. We want things, after all, that are good. So if an orator or tyrant does such things because they think it’s better for themselves when actually it’s worse, they’re still doing what they sees fit. If doing these things is actually bad, then are they really doing what they want? Polus concedes that he’s not, and that in this case, he doesn’t really have great power, if indeed having power is something good. Socrates concludes, then, that it’s possible for someone who does what seems fit in their city to lack power and to be missing out on what they actually want to do.

Polus continues to argue that the ability to do what one sees fit is enviable—whether it’s just or unjust. Socrates says that we’re not supposed to envy the miserable, but rather to pity them. He further states that the one who unjustly puts another to death is most pitiable. This is because acting unjustly is actually the ultimate evil—a greater evil than suffering what’s unjust.

Socrates argues that if he carried a dagger and had the arbitrary power to put to death anyone he saw fit in a crowded marketplace, even Polus would agree that this wasn’t a legitimate form of power. Polus agrees, because someone who acted that way would deserve to be punished. But he also claims that many people who behave unjustly, like Archelaus (who illegitimately seized kingship from his brother) and the King of Persia, are nevertheless happy.

Socrates rejects Polus’s misleading “oratorical style” and argues that the root of the disagreement is a failure to recognize who’s happy and who’s not. He claims that the only way an unjust man can be happy is if he faces the consequences of his crime. To demonstrate this, he argues that in whatever way a thing acts upon something (like a surgeon cutting deeply), the thing acted upon is acted upon in just that way (the patient is deeply cut). That being the case, isn’t it true that someone who is justly disciplined is being acted upon justly when he pays what’s due? In other words, that person is being benefited, and his soul is improved.

Socrates continues that the person being justly disciplined is being rid of evil in his soul. He gets Polus to concede that such evil is more serious than other evils, like poverty or poor physical condition. And though there are other corruptions of the soul, like ignorance or cowardice, injustice is the worst form of corruption. Just as there are crafts to get rid of poverty (financial management) and disease (medicine), there’s also one to get rid of the soul’s injustice: justice. If having evil in one’s soul is the most serious kind of evil, then the happiest person is the one who doesn’t have evil in his soul, and the second happiest would be the one who’s gotten rid of it.

Socrates argues that if someone shrinks from medical treatment out of fear, it’s because they don’t understand how it feels to be healthy and physically fit. In the same way, someone who avoids discipline is focusing on the pain involved instead of the benefit; they don’t understand that living with an unhealthy soul is even worse than living with an unhealthy body.

Polus now agrees with Socrates that failure to face discipline when it’s due is the greatest evil of all, and that the one who does what’s unjust is more miserable than the one who suffers what’s unjust. This being the case, one who commits something unjust should voluntarily seek out discipline, lest the “disease” should cause one’s soul to decay. Further, this means that if oratory is used to defend injustice, then it’s useless. In such cases, oratory should rather be used to accuse oneself or others of injustice and encourage the offending party to face the unpleasantness of discipline for the sake of long-term benefit to the soul. Polus thinks that Socrates is being absurd.