Then how can you be justified in saying that cities will not cease from evil until philosophers rule in them, when philoso- phers are acknowledged by us to be of no use to them?
You ask a question, I said, to which a reply can only be given
in a parable.
Yes, Socrates; and that is a way of speaking to
which you are not at all accustomed, I suppose.
I perceive, I said, that you are vastly amused at having plunged
me into such a hopeless discussion; but now hear the parable, and then
you will be still more amused at the meagreness of my imagination: for
the manner in which the best men are treated in their own States is so
grievous that no single thing on earth is comparable to it; and
therefore, if I am to plead their cause, I must have recourse to
fiction, and put together a figure made up of many things, like the
fabulous unions of goats and stags which are found in pictures. Imag-
ine then a fleet or a ship in which there is a captain who is taller and
stronger than any of the crew, but he is a little deaf and has a similar
infirmity in sight, and his knowledge of navigation is not much better.
The sailors are quarrelling with one an other about the
steering--everyone is of opinion that he has a right to steer, though he
has never learned the art of naviga- tion and cannot tell who taught him
or when he learned, and will further assert that it cannot be taught,
and they are ready to cut in pieces anyone who says the contrary. They
throng about the captain, begging and praying him to commit the helm to
them; and if at any time they do not prevail, but others are preferred
to them, they kill the others or throw them overboard, and having first
chained up the noble captain's senses with drink or some narcotic drug,
they mutiny and take possession of the ship and make free with the
stores; thus, eating and drinking, they proceed on their voyage in such
manner as might be expected of them. Him who is their partisan and
cleverly aids them in their plot for getting the ship out of the
captain's hands into their own whether by force or persuasion, they com-
pliment with the name of sailor, pilot, able seaman, and abuse the other
sort of man, whom they call a good-for-nothing; but that the true pilot
must pay attention to the year and seasons and sky and stars and winds,
and whatever else belongs to his art, if he intends to be really
qualified for the command of a ship, and that he must and will be the
steerer, whether other people like or not--the possibility of this union
of authority with the steerer's art has never seriously entered into
their thoughts or been made part of their calling. Now in vessels which
are in a state of mutiny and by sailors who are mutineers, how will the
true pilot be regarded? Will he not be called by them a prater, a
star-gazer, a good-for-nothing?
Of course, said Adeimantus.
Then you will hardly need, I said, to hear the interpretation of
the figure, which describes the true philosopher in his rela- tion to
the State; for you understand already.
Certainly.
Then suppose you now take this parable to the gentleman who is
surprised at finding that philosophers have no honor in their cities;
explain it to him and try to convince him that their having honor would
be far more extraordinary.
Another.
A third.
And so on.