On Cephalus and Socrates, and the Ideology of the Wealthy (with passing mention of Madoff and Trump)
If (pseudo-)Plutarch is to be trusted, Cephalus, the very wealthy host of the discussion in the Republic, is an influential resident-foreigner from Syracuse no less, an arms dealer, and the father of the famous Lysias and the unfortunate Polemarchus. Often when dealing with a Socratic dialogue, Plato tempts the reader to look forward to the events surrounding the accusation, trial, and execution of Socrates not the least his students’ role in the Thirty. But I increasingly feel that in the Republic we’re also invited to reflect on war and empire (and its mindset) not just because of the setting and timing, but also because of the presence of military metaphors and allusions to real battles, and especially the interaction between domestic political life and imperial policy. (Can you tell I have been in a political science department for a while now?)
I had intended to draw this out during my first meeting of this year’s class discussion on the Republic. (One of the joyful oddities of my academic life, is that I repeatedly tend to teach material I will never publish on.) But we got sidetracked by a little, almost insignificant remark by Cephalus not far from the start of the Republic that can be thought puzzling. It occurs just after Socrates asks what the greatest benefit is from being so fabulous wealthy for Cephalus.
Before Cephalus answers he says (using Shorey’s translation), the answer is “something…which I might not easily bring many to believe if I told them.” (330d) It’s this remark that stopped us in our tracks, because it is by no means obvious why it would be so hard to persuade others of the truth of Cephalus’ remark. This is prima facie puzzling because Cephalus is merely reporting on his own experience. Nobody is being invited to assume they would experience wealth the same way. In fact, at this point it’s already been established that it is common ground between Socrates and Cephalus that people experience life differently based on what we may call their character (see 329b).
Admittedly, when Cephalus begins to answer he starts by implying that as they age all men start to worry about the “the tales that are told of the world below and how the men who have done wrong here must pay the penalty there, though he may have laughed them down hitherto, then begin to torture his soul with the doubt that there may be some truth in them.” And in particular, the aged person “is filled with doubt, surmises, and alarms and begins to reckon up and consider whether he has ever wronged anyone. Now he to whom the ledger of his life shows an account of many evil deeds starts up even from his dreams like children again and again in affright and his days are haunted by anticipations of worse to come.” Cephalus then suggests that if you are very wealthy you can glide through life without injuring others, and so to depart without “fear to that other world.” (331b)
Now, initially I thought that Cephalus thinks others will not believe his account of the benefits of wealth because they don’t think a very wealthy person goes through life crime free. For a long time I assumed he may have suspected that ordinary, less wealthy folk will assume one can only grow wealthy by taking advantage of others. He suspects then, that others will assume his guilt-free life, is nothing but self-delusion. (Shortly thereafter Cephalus leaves the conversation, in order to sacrifice to the Gods from pious duty undoubtedly, but also clearly to be seen to ensure the the Gods are on his side—better be safe than sorry.) Nothing what follows undermines this interpretation, so feel free to hold it.
But during class, I wondered to myself whether, perhaps, what he suspected would be unbelievable is that he views the greatest benefit of wealth in terms that are not oriented toward this-worldly joys (recall the “pleasures of wine, women, and feasts” (329a)), but toward psychic comfort about the world below. He does take a certain pride, after all about his own character. He may well think that others firmly believe the benefit of great wealth is that one can precure the luxuries of life. After all, even good Glaucon recoils from the true city due to the absence of all luxury. Cephalus, who we are shown lives in great splendor after all, may well suspect that others will infer he, too, enjoys the material benefits from wealth.
Anyway, I asked my students why Cephalus suspects it would be hard to persuade others to believe his account of the greatest benefit of wealth. My students observed that from Cephalus’ own perspective his narrative implies the Gods are fundamentally biased or partial toward the wealthy because it’s easier for the wealthy to be favored by the gods. (Again, we’re shown Cephalus taking the sacrifices to the gods rather seriously.) In fact, as Adam Smith observes in the Lectures on Jurisprudence the eventual, great comparative advantage of Christianity is that it provides better hope to those who lack property (including women and slaves).
One of my students from an ancient studies program noted that in Greek political life, the gods are generally thought partial to one’s hearth and polity. Later I regretted that I didn’t mention The Ancient City (1864) by Numa Denis Fustel de Coulanges to the class at this point. Since the students had only read Book 1, I decided not to go into Socrates’ criticisms of the poets’ and his fellow citizens’ views of the gods.
But then one of my other students observed that, in fact, if Cephalus’ testimony on his own view is correct, it implies that when it comes to divine, he de facto agrees with Thrasymachus’ account of justice which is nothing but “the advantage of the stronger” that is, the rich and powerful. (338C) Arguably Cephalus’ testimony can also be made to fit the view of justice attributed to the poet Simonides by Polemarchus (“to render to each his due,”) which, if Cephalus is right, then implies that the Gods favor the wealthy.
Now, I may have observed before that what makes Thrasymachus’ account of justice so interesting is that he clearly reports what the rich and powerful themselves think and act on: that access and influence matter most. He is an all-too-confident, richly rewarded intellectual spokesperson for this view, which he takes to be true in all possible polities or context-invariant (338e).
What Madoff and Trump have in common is that their admirers assume that they can benefit from a rigged system to be rigged in their favor. It’s a zero-sum picture of political, economic, and (as Cephalus suggests) divine economy that predominates among the wealthy and would be wealthy. Neither Cephalus nor Thrasymachus exhibit any qualms about this fact. (Thrasymachus’ blush is orthogonal to it.) In fact, Glaucon (who is also wealthy) also seems to reveal he kind of acts accordingly because he induces Thrasymachus to continue to engage with Socrates by suggesting he is willing to pay for his continued time and presence. (337D)
As an aside, even today left critics of capitalism who engage in ideology critique often assume that they are unmasking it by revealing structural injustices or domination. But one reason why such ideology critique doesn’t get traction is that it basically repeats the self-aggrandizing narratives of those who glory in how social life generate benefits to the (s)elect. These structures are exhibited in Athenian empire, the polity, and each household—a system that concentrates benefits to those who have the most say.
Be that as it may, I think what Cephalus’ grasps is that others will not be surprised that he thinks he derives benefits from his wealth, including psychic ease, relative to divine justice. But that they will reject the implied (normative) commitment to Thrasymachus’ worldview.
Now, in musing on all of this, I suspect Cephalus thinks his testimony will not persuade because it violates the democratic sensibility that predominates in Athens. He clearly thinks that sensibilitynonsense, as an informed powerful outsider would. That should be the end of the matter.
But during his exchange with Thrasymachus, Socrates points out (anticipating Machiavelli and Spinoza) that political divisions and the angry conflicts that they bring are the effects of structural injustice (351D). Socrates teaches the art of government. From Socrates’ implied perspective the fact that Cephalus expects not to persuade and to receive pushback is itself indicative of an unhealthy polity.*
*This is, in fact, foreshadowed by his son Polemarchus’ unwillingness to engage in persuasion at the start of the dialogue. (Even if the interaction has a comic element to it, something about his character is revealed.)