Socrates (a philosopher), Chaerephon (Socrates’s follower), and Callicles (a politician) are talking outside a public building where Gorgias (a famous orator) has just given a talk. Socrates missed the lecture, but he wants to have a face-to-face dialogue with Gorgias, which his friends arrange. Specifically, Socrates wants to learn what Gorgias’s craft accomplishes. Gorgias identifies his craft as oratory and himself as an orator. He says that oratory’s goal is making speeches, especially speeches that persuade audiences in public settings. Socrates presses for specifics, so Gorgias explains that oratory’s speeches are concerned with what’s just and unjust. Socrates also presses him to distinguish between knowledge and persuasion—orators don’t teach about what’s just and unjust, Gorgias admits, but rather persuade. In other words, orators don’t actually have to be experts in the subject they’re speaking about; they just have to appear that way in front of fellow non-experts.
Gorgias also says that orators shouldn’t be blamed if their students use their oratorical skills in an unjust manner—much like a boxing trainer wouldn’t be blamed if his student attacked others for no reason. Seeking clarification, Socrates asks if it’s true that someone who knows about a particular subject is the sort of person his expertise makes him—for example, someone who’s learned what is just would be a just person. When Gorgias agrees, Socrates says Gorgias is being inconsistent here. After all, if oratory is concerned with what’s just (making its practitioners just), then an orator wouldn’t use his skill unjustly, as in Gorgias’s earlier example.
At this point, youthful orator Polus jumps in indignantly, saying Socrates is being rude and wanting to know what sort of craft oratory is according to Socrates. Socrates says he doesn’t think oratory is a craft at all; rather, it’s merely a knack that gives people satisfaction and pleasure. Moreover, it’s a form of flattery: orators flatter audiences much like pastry bakers gratify their customers. Socrates thinks that both body and soul have crafts which deal with them, like medicine for the body and justice for the soul. Flattery masks itself as a craft and pretends to be concerned for people’s benefit, but it’s really just concerned with giving people what’s pleasant at the time. A craft also has an understanding of its subject which enables it to aim at the subject’s long-term benefit, whereas a knack doesn’t need such an understanding.
When invited to respond, Polus argues that orators are admirable because, like tyrants, they hold the most power in a city—they can have people exiled or put to death, after all. Socrates counters that this isn’t actually true, because tyrants aren’t really doing what they want to do. Expanding on this, he argues that we want what’s good, and we do things for the sake of a greater good (like taking unpleasant medicine for health’s sake). If an orator or tyrant executes someone unjustly (not for a greater good) while believing it’s a good thing to do, then is he really doing what he wants? Polus concedes that he’s not.
Socrates builds on this point by arguing that acting unjustly is actually a greater evil than suffering what’s unjust. Polus agrees that people who act unjustly deserve punishment, but that many have evaded punishment and are therefore happy. Socrates denies that an unjust person can be happy unless he faces the consequences of his crime. After all, justice is a kind of discipline which rids the soul of the corruption caused by unjust behavior. Therefore, the person whose soul has been rid of evil is happier than the one who’s gotten away with committing it. Oratory, Socrates suggests, is useless unless it encourages the unjust to face discipline for the sake of the soul’s benefit.
Callicles chimes in, accusing Socrates of simply trying to please his audience. Furthermore, he disagrees with Socrates’s view of what’s just and unjust. He thinks that most claims about what’s “unjust” are really just the weak trying to unfairly restrain the strong—he deems it natural for the “superior” to rule the “inferior” in society. Socrates would grasp this, he thinks, if Socrates didn’t waste his time on philosophy and engaged in public life instead. Socrates pushes back, arguing that even if it were true that supposedly superior people should rule society, their ability to rule themselves—to control their appetites—is the most important thing. Callicles thinks this is ridiculous, because he equates an excellent life with one that lacks discipline (i.e., unrestrained fulfillment of one’s desires).
Socrates wants to prove to Callicles that, on the contrary, the orderly life is always to be preferred to the undisciplined one. He draws a distinction between the pleasant and the good. He demonstrates this by pointing out that experiencing something pleasant (like a refreshing drink) doesn’t mean that someone is actually doing well (he might still be dying of thirst). The more important point is to draw a distinction between benefit and harm. That is, some pleasures are actually harmful, while some pains are beneficial. Socrates suggests that a craftsman is needed in order to discern between good and bad pleasures. This whole discussion ultimately comes down to the best way to live: is it better to engage in political life or philosophy?
Socrates and Callicles agree that there are forms of flattery that apply to the soul as well as the body, with oratory being the ultimate one. Most orators aren’t concerned with helping to create good citizens; they’re only concerned to gratify their audiences and promote their own interests. Socrates suggests that the soul should be well-organized, and that a good orator (if such existed) would consider the nature of the well-ordered soul when giving his speeches—much as a doctor would consider long-term health when applying the craft of medicine to the body.
Returning to the subject of committing versus suffering injustice, Callicles asserts that the best way to protect oneself against suffering injustice is to obtain power in one’s city. In other words, the most important thing is to seek long life at all costs, using things like oratory to avoid political danger. Socrates argues that there is more to goodness than simply the preservation of life—it’s more important to live well in whatever time one has. He further argues that if it’s the concern of politics to make a city and its citizens as good as possible, then what a city really needs isn’t someone who will flatter people by telling them what they want to hear, but someone who will treat people’s souls by aiming at what’s best for them.
This being the case, Socrates agrees with Callicles that Socrates would likely fare poorly in court. People don’t want to hear that a philosopher’s harsh words were intended for their own benefit, any more than a child wants to hear that a doctor’s painful treatments were better for them than a baker’s pastries. But that’s okay: Socrates doesn’t fear an adverse judgment in court or anything else people could do to him. He only fears facing the final judgment in Hades with a corrupted soul. Using a story of the judgment of souls from Homer’s Odyssey as an example, Socrates urges Callicles to join him in pursuing the best life possible. That way, Callicles won’t arrive at the final judgment with a corrupted soul, unable to defend himself.
The dialogue concludes with Socrates summarizing his argument. He maintains that it’s been proven that doing what’s unjust is worse than suffering it, and that being good is more important than seeming to be good; that discipline is good and flattery is bad; and that oratory should only be used in support of what’s just. If someone wants to be happy both in this life and in the afterlife, that person should follow the way of philosophy, not the worthless pursuit of politics and oratory.
