Allegory of the Cave

Socrates: Thereafter, said I, fully understand our nature concerning knowledge and the lack of knowledge, as similar to the following condition.

Look upon humanity as if living underground in a cave, with its distant entrance open to the light and serving the entire cave.

And presume men and women have been placed in this cave since childhood, with their legs and necks fettered, so as to remain in position and only able to see in front of themselves, unable to turn their heads around because of the chains.

But also, they have the light of a fire burning far above and far beyond, and between the fire and themselves is a road on high.

Along this road, behold a parapet, like that screen in front of an illusionist who performs wonderful tricks for their audience.

Glaucon: I behold this.

Socrates: And behold this, along the length of the wall, are people exhibiting all kinds of objects raised above this wall. Human and animal figures of wood and stone and objects of every kind. As to be expected, some of these exhibitors are speaking and others are silent.

Glaucon: You speak of strange images and strange fettered people.

Socrates: But, such as those who resemble us. First and foremost, do you think these people see anything of themselves or one another? Or just the shadows formed by the light of the fire falling on the opposite wall of the cave?

Glaucon: How can they, if throughout the whole of their life, they have been required to keep their head unmoved?

Socrates: But what do they make of the objects that are being exhibited? Is it not the very same?

Glaucon: Yes, why not?

Socrates: If then they were able to converse with one another, do you not think they would be led to believe that it is right to name those very shadows in front of themselves.

Glaucon: Out of necessity, they must.

Socrates: But what if there was an echo from the opposite wall of this prison, and whenever any of those who passed along spoke, do you think the prisoners would be led to believe that which spoke was anything other than the passing shadow?

Glaucon: Not I, by Zeus!

Socrates: Then, such people as these will entirely believe that there is no truth other than the shadows of the figures and objects.

Glaucon: Necessarily so.

Socrates: Consider next, both their freedom from these chains and their cure of this ignorance should through the course of nature, such a fate should happen upon themselves.

When anyone should be freed and compelled to suddenly rise up and turn around their neck and to walk and look up towards the light, but in doing all of these obligations should suffer from the splendour, they would be unable to see the shadows that could formerly be seen. What do you think they would say if one should tell that person that they had been seeing only deceit before, but now, being nearer to reality and having turned towards the more real, they saw more correctly? And so, showing to themself each of the figures and objects passing along, question themself and require themself to say what they were, do you not think they would doubt themself and would believe what was formerly seen as more true than what was now being seen? 

Glaucon: Of course.

Socrates: And if they should be required to look to the light, would not the pain in their eyes make them turn away to look at the shadows of figures and objects that can more clearly be seen?

Glaucon: This is so.

Socrates: But, if one should drag themself from there with vehemence along a rough and steep ascent, and not stop until they were brought up to the light of the sun, would they not, whilst being dragged in this way, be both in agony and filled with resentment? And after they had been brought before the light, and their eyes filled with splendour, would they not be able to see any of those things called real?

Glaucon: At first, no.

Socrates: They would need constant familiarisation over a period of time if they are to perceive the objects high above. First of all, they would find it easier to see shadows, and then the images of people and of other things in water, and only after that the very things themselves. After seeing these, they would more easily see the objects in heaven and heaven itself by looking into the night at the light of the stars and the moon, and by day, they would see the sun and the light of the sun.

Glaucon: How can it be otherwise?

Socrates: And, last of all, they may be able, I believe, to see and contemplate the sun himself, not in water, nor resemblances of himself in an alien place, but himself with himself in his own proper place.

Glaucon: Necessarily so.

Socrates: And now they would reason with themself concerning self, that it is he who provides the seasons and years, and it is he who presides over all things in the visible place. And they are in no doubt that he is the cause of all of the things which were seen.

Glaucon: After this, it is evident that they would arrive at such reasoning.

Socrates: But what happens when they remember their first dwelling and the type of wisdom that was there, and those who accompanied themself in chains, do you not think they will consider themself to be in a greater place and pity the others?

Glaucon: Definitely.

Socrates: And if during that time there were honours, speeches of praise, and rewards among themselves who most eagerly perceived what passed along, and best remembered which of the figures and objects passed first, which of them last, and which of them went together, and from these observations was most able to predict what was to happen next, does it appear to you that oneself would desire such honours, and envy those among themselves who are honoured and so empowered?

Or, will they not rather wish to tolerate what Homer said and resolutely desire

Being a labourer working for hire to some unworthy man...

and would rather suffer anything, rather than to hold those opinions and live in that manner?

Glaucon: I think they would suffer and welcome anything rather than live in that manner.

Socrates: Then consider this: If such a one would descend and sit once again in the same place, would not their eyes be filled with darkness as a result of having come suddenly from the sun?

Glaucon: Very much so.

Socrates:  And should they now be required to give their opinion of the shadows and to debate about them with those who are forever chained while their eyes are still dazzled, and before they have recovered their former state, which would not happen in a short time, would they not provide the other prisoners with laughter? 

And would it not be said of the one who has ascended that they have returned with impaired vision and that it was inappropriate of themself to have ascended upward, and that whoever should attempt to liberate their fellow prisoners and lead them upwards, if ever they were able to get that person into their hands they would kill them? 

Glaucon: They would by whatever means.

Plato, The Republic

The forward motion of fire.

And, behold, the path of the Classical Philosopher!

Note from the editor of Classical Philosophy