Towards the end of Book One, More's character debates the merits of philosophers interfering in politics, using a metaphor that presents politics as a form of entertainment:
"When you mix in alien elements, even if they are superior, you wreck the play; do the best you can in the play that's actually in hand, and don't upset it because you happen to have thought of one that might be more entertaining. That's exactly how things are in public affairs and in the councils of princes . . . . you mustn't abandon ship simply because you can't direct the winds."
This passage is interesting: More is essentially arguing with Raphael about the merits of working within a political system to create change versus dismantling the entire system and starting again from scratch (or causing political upheaval). In the metaphor, More compares politics to a stage play, highlighting the performative aspects of public service and leadership. More also compares politics and governance to a ship that "mustn't be abandoned" just because one "can't direct the winds."
This passage likely reflects More's own internal conflict about how best to effect political change given his eventual position as advisor to the king. Though Raphael as a character is distinct from More's character, both men represent different facets of the author's thought process.
In Book One, Raphael uses a metaphor in his argument against inequitable wealth distribution, equating capitalism to a kind of sickness:
"[Certain laws] might . . . reduce and mitigate [the evils of unfair wealth distribution] the same way as a regular application of poultices can relieve the bodies of the incurably sick, but there is absolutely no hope of curing them and restoring good order as long as property remains private. Rather, as you strive to cure one part, you aggravate the sickness in others: so, by mutual exchange, the healing of one causes the disease in another, since you can't give something to one person without taking it away from someone else."
More (the character) subsequently disagrees with Raphael's claim, stating that people will be lazy and unproductive if they are not motivated by wealth and personal gain. This counterpoint spoken in the voice of More's character does not necessarily represent his own personal view: both the character More and Raphael represent different dimensions of the author's reasoning and thought processes. What Raphael's character understands—which More fails to, at least initially—is that simply treating symptoms is an ineffective form of medicine. If one goes on treating only the "symptoms" of a disease, that disease will endure, and the body it infects will suffer indefinitely. The "body" in Raphael's metaphor is society, and private property (which leads to unequal wealth distribution) is the disease that must be cured.
Raphael describes Utopian social attitudes in Book Two, using an apt metaphor to outline the perception of certain vices in this society:
"Included in the mirage of counterfeit pleasures are those who cheerfully rave and flatter themselves with the reputation of nobility, congratulating themselves on their descent from a long line of wealthy ancestors."
"Counterfeit pleasures," including nobility and rank (mentioned specifically in the passage above) are here likened to a mirage. They seem inviting and wholesome, but that wholesomeness is an illusion—water that evaporates when one tries to consume it. This metaphor draws to mind Aristotle's meditations on virtue in Nicomachean Ethics. Aristotle—with whom More was no doubt familiar—discusses at length in Nicomachean Ethics the need for temperance in all things. Temperance is neither excess nor deficiency, but balance with regards to the virtues. Excess of something may at first be appealing, much like a mirage seems incredibly wonderful at first. It soon becomes evident, however, that excess does more damage than benefit. In both Aristotle and More's opinion, it is far better to live temperately.
Take, for example, the "counterfeit pleasure" Raphael names in this passage: nobility. Surely it is good for a person to feel respected and esteemed within his or her community; this wish for acknowledgement is neither inherently good nor harmful. When a person receives an excess of esteem, however—to the point of being functionally treated like a god—that person's psyche may be damaged. Nobility and rank lead certain individuals to believe that they are fundamentally superior to others: these individuals, with their money and prestige, perpetuate social inequality.
Further exploring Utopian moral philosophy in Book Two, Raphael uses a metaphor to depict physical health as a battle, of which the ultimate victory is pleasure:
"What happens when we eat, [the Utopians] say, is that health, which has begun to falter, takes on food as its ally in the fight against hunger. While our health gradually recovers strength, the process of regaining its customary vigour generates that pleasure by which we are refreshed. And if health takes such pleasure in the fight, won't it rejoice once victory is achieved? When it has eventually recovered its original strength—which was the whole point of the exercise—will it immediately slump into a stupor and fail to recognize and embrace its own good?
In this metaphor, the body becomes a site of perpetual struggle, waging war against the forces that might keep it in the displeasureable state of hunger. Note the use of violent analogy in relation to the body, akin to contemporary language surrounding "cancer survivors" and the "fight" against illness. This kind of figurative language puts Nature at odds with the body, and the body at odds with the mind. In order to achieve pleasure—a concept rooted in mental perception of physical experience—a person must first wage war against the physical plague of hunger. This language establishes the relationship between the human body and its surroundings as antagonistic instead of symbiotic.
