Plato was a Greek philosopher and mathematician who left his mark in history.

His classical philosophies on human

nature reveal the basic truth as well as the flaws in the psychological evolution of mankind. Plato's allegory of the
cave is a hypothetical scenario depicted by an enlightening conversation between Socrates and Plato's brother,
Glaucon. The conversation basically deals with the ignorance of humanity trapped within the precincts of
conventional ethics. As indicated by the term homo sapiens, they refer to the not-so sapient humans, but to the more
civilized and cultivated form of animals. For spiritual evolution, an in-depth understanding of mother nature and the
truth behind the things which cannot be seen, is also very important.

Description of the Cave

While describing the story, Socrates asks Glaucon to imagine a cave inhabited by people. These men are prisoners,
and their hands and legs are shackled by chains. Moreover, the movement of their face is also restricted, so that they
can see nothing but the wall in front of them. This restricted movement limits their visibility to the wall, thus
circumscribing the scope of any encounter beyond it. There is an enormous fire on the ground, and between the wall
and the fire is a walkway meant for objects to pass. The shadows of these objects fall directly on the wall providing
the sole view for the prisoners. Hence, the only way for the prisoners to get acquainted with their surroundings is to
decipher the shadows and consider them to be a part of the real world. They start naming each and every object, and
amongst all the prisoners, the intellect of an individual is governed by his ability to judge those objects.

According to Socrates, the idea of the world for prisoners is limited within the boundaries of the cave. The shadows
are treated as real objects and there are pseudo intellectuals who claim to understand the world based on these
shadows. The prisoners are not able to perceive the truth of nature because of their limited view.

Escape of a Prisoner from the Cave

Moving on with the description, Socrates says that if somehow a prisoner manages to break the shackles and
escapes from the cave, the world he gets to see outside goes beyond his comprehension. He, like all the prisoners, is
accustomed to dim light, and the light of the sun makes him turn his gaze away from it. Slowly he gets accustomed to
the existence of the new world, which delineates the fallacy of that inside the cave. On his intellectual journey, he
discovers the true reality, the beauty of mother nature and an almost divine experience of the newly found mystical
world.

Interpretation of Plato's Allegory of the Cave

Now as the prisoner returns back to the cave, he feels his moral duty to make others aware of the truth he has just
discovered. He tries to persuade his companions that outside there is a more real world, and what all has been seen
by them are mere shadows of the real objects. He tries to point out the deep rooted ignorance of the fellow prisoners
who are trapped within their own confinement of pseudo intellectualism. But the prisoners try to resist enlightenment
and condemn him for the moral misconduct and loss of ethical values. These values, which are not governed by the
tautologies of nature but the fallacy of shadows casted on the wall, are considered to be the truth by the prisoners of
the cave. Everything that goes beyond these values, tends to lie in the domain of unconventional thoughts, which are
always resisted by human beings. This cave metaphor can be replaced by a movie theater, where the screen serves
as wall of the cave and the projector as the fire. In this case also, the objects seen are not real ones, but a reflection
on the movie screen.

The creativity of Pluto, along with his deep understanding of human nature, makes him to create a scenario which
shows the mankind a true picture of an imaginary world. We all may acquire and comprehend the world around us as
our experience of physical objects, but it would be a mistake to limit ourselves to the conventional thoughts
indentured by our stubbornness towards change.
The “Allegory of the Cave” by Plato represents an extended metaphor that is to contrast the way in which we
perceive and believe in what is reality. The thesis behind his allegory is the basic

tenets that all we perceive are imperfect “reflections” of the ultimate Forms, which subsequently represent
truth and reality. In his story, Plato establishes a cave in which prisoners are chained down and forced to look
upon the front wall of the cave. When summarizing the “Allegory of the Cave” it’s important to remember the
two elements to the story; the fictional metaphor of the prisoners, and the philosophical tenets in which said
story is supposed to represent, thus presenting us with the allegory itself.

The multi-faceted meanings that can be perceived from the “Cave” can be seen in the beginning with the
presence of our prisoners whom are chained within the darkness of the aforementioned cave. The prisoners are
bound to the floor and unable to turn their heads to see what goes on behind them. To the back of the prisoners,
under the protection of the parapet, lie the puppeteers whom are casting the shadows on the wall in which the
prisoners are perceiving reality. The passage is actually told not from the perspective of the prisoners, but
rather a conversation occurring between Socrates and Glaucon (Plato’s brother). While the allegory itself isn’t
the story, but rather the conversational dialogues between Glaucon and Socrates (Plato often spoke his ideas
through Socrates in his works), the two are not mutually exclusive and thus will not be treated so.

As Socrates is describing the cave and the situation of the prisoners, he conveys the point that the prisoners
would be inherently mistaken as to what is reality. Because we as readers know that the

puppeteers behind them are using wooden and iron objects to liken the shadows to reality based items and
people, the prisoners (unable to turn their heads) would know nothing else but the shadows, and perceive this
as their own reality. This is an important development to the story because it shows us that what we perceive as
real from birth is completely false based on our imperfect interpretations of reality and Goodness. The general
point thus far of the allegory is that the general terms of our language are not "names" of the physical objects
that we can see. They are actually names of things that are not visible to us, things that we can only grasp with
the mind. This line of thinking is said to be described as “imagination,” by Plato.

Once the prisoner is released, he is forced to look upon the fire and objects that once dictated his perception of
reality, and he thus realizes these new images in front of him are now the accepted forms of reality. Plato
describes the vision of the real truth to be “aching” to the eyes of the prisoners, and how they would naturally be
inclined to going back and viewing what they have always seen as a pleasant and painless acceptance of truth.
This stage of thinking is noted as “belief.” The comfort of the aforementioned perceived, and the fear of the
unrecognized outside world would result in the prisoner being forced to climb the steep ascent of the cave and
step outside into the bright sun.

Once the prisoner climbs out of the cave and is fully immersed in the sun’s rays, Socrates continues to explain
the prisoner’s bewilderment, fear, and blindness to the objects he was now being told were real. The natural
reaction of the prisoner would be to recognize shadows and reflections. After his eyes adjust to the sunlight, he
begins to see items and people in their own existence, outside of any medium. This recognizes the cognitive
stage of though. When the prisoner looks up to the sky and looks into the Sun, and recognizes it as the cause of
all that is around him—he has perceived the “Form of the Good!” This point in the passage marks the climax, as
the prisoner, whom not long ago was blind to the “Form of the Good” (as well as the basic Forms in general),
now is aware of reality and truth. When this has occurred, the ultimate stage of thought has been achieved, and
that is “understanding.”
Plato (through the conversation of Socrates) then discusses the prisoner’s newfound awareness of his own
knowledge and understanding. He inquires, would the prisoner want to return to the formerly accepted reality

of truth, or would his content only lie in following his newly understood perception of reality? Both Glaucon
and Socrates agree the prisoner would rather suffer any fate than returning to his previous life and
understanding (or lack thereof!).

Upon returning to the Cave, the prisoner would metaphorically (and literally) be entering a world of darkness
yet again, and would be faced with the other unreleased prisoners. The other prisoners laugh at the released
prisoner, and ridicule him for taking the useless ascent out of the cave in the first place. The others cannot
understand something they have yet to experience, so it’s up to this prisoner to represent leadership, for it is
him alone who is conscious of goodness. It’s at this point that Plato describes the philosopher kings who have
recognized the Forms of Goodness as having a duty to be responsible leaders and to not feel contempt for those
whom don’t share his enlightenment.

The Allegory doesn’t solely represent our own misconceptions of reality, but also (in tune with the general
thesis of his piece The Republic) Plato’s vision of what a solid leader should be. The prisoner is expected to
return to the cave and live amongst his former prisoners as someone whom can see better than all the rest,
someone whom is now able to govern from truth and goodness. He is expected to care for his fellow citizens, “…
you have been better and more thoroughly educated than those others and hence you are more capable of
playing your part both as men of thought and as men of action.” Upon realizing the Forms of Goodness, one
assumes the responsibility of a qualified leader, and this presents the basis for Plato’s arguments for what
constitutes just leadership and a just society.

The “Allegory of the Cave” represents a complex model as to which we are to travel through our lives and
understanding. The four stages of thought combined with the progress of human development represent our
own path to complete awareness in which the most virtuous and distinguished will reach, and upon doing so
shall lead the public. The story as told by Socrates and Glaucon presents a unique look at the way in which
reality plays such an important part in our own existence, and how one understands it can be used as a
qualification for leadership and government.
 Plato
Book VII of The Republic
The Allegory of the Cave
Here's a little story from Plato's most famous book, The Republic. Socrates is talking to a young follower of his named Glaucon,
and is telling him this fable to illustrate what it's like to be a philosopher -- a lover of wisdom: Most people, including ourselves,
live in a world of relative ignorance. We are even comfortable with that ignorance, because it is all we know. When we first
start facing truth, the process may be frightening, and many people run back to their old lives. But if you continue to seek truth,
you will eventually be able to handle it better. In fact, you want more! It's true that many people around you now may think you
are weird or even a danger to society, but you don't care. Once you've tasted the truth, you won't ever want to go back to being
ignorant!

[Socrates is speaking with Glaucon]

[Socrates:] And now, I said, let me show in a figure how far our nature is enlightened or unenlightened: --Behold! human beings
living in a underground den, which has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all along the den; here they have been from
their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained so that they cannot move, and can only see before them, being prevented
by the chains from turning round their heads. Above and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance, and between the fire and the
prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if you look, a low wall built along the way, like the screen which marionette
players have in front of them, over which they show the puppets.

[Glaucon:] I see.

And do you see, I said, men passing along the wall carrying all sorts of vessels, and statues and figures of animals made of wood
and stone and various materials, which appear over the wall? Some of them are talking, others silent.

You have shown me a strange image, and they are strange prisoners.
Like ourselves, I replied; and they see only their own shadows, or the shadows of one another, which the fire throws on the
opposite wall of the cave?

True, he said; how could they see anything but the shadows if they were never allowed to move their heads?

And of the objects which are being carried in like manner they would only see the shadows?

Yes, he said.

And if they were able to converse with one another, would they not suppose that they were naming what was actually before
them?

Very true.

And suppose further that the prison had an echo which came from the other side, would they not be sure to fancy when one of the
passers-by spoke that the voice which they heard came from the passing shadow?

No question, he replied.

To them, I said, the truth would be literally nothing but the shadows of the images.

That is certain.

And now look again, and see what will naturally follow if the prisoners are released and disabused of their error. At first, when
any of them is liberated and compelled suddenly to stand up and turn his neck round and walk and look towards the light, he will
suffer sharp pains; the glare will distress him, and he will be unable to see the realities of which in his former state he had seen
the shadows; and then conceive some one saying to him, that what he saw before was an illusion, but that now, when he is
approaching nearer to being and his eye is turned towards more real existence, he has a clearer vision, -what will be his reply?
And you may further imagine that his instructor is pointing to the objects as they pass and requiring him to name them, -- will he
not be perplexed? Will he not fancy that the shadows which he formerly saw are truer than the objects which are now shown to
him?

Far truer.

And if he is compelled to look straight at the light, will he not have a pain in his eyes which will make him turn away to take and
take in the objects of vision which he can see, and which he will conceive to be in reality clearer than the things which are now
being shown to him?

True, he said.

And suppose once more, that he is reluctantly dragged up a steep and rugged ascent, and held fast until he 's forced into the
presence of the sun himself, is he not likely to be pained and irritated? When he approaches the light his eyes will be dazzled, and
he will not be able to see anything at all of what are now called realities.

Not all in a moment, he said.

He will require to grow accustomed to the sight of the upper world. And first he will see the shadows best, next the reflections of
men and other objects in the water, and then the objects themselves; then he will gaze upon the light of the moon and the stars
and the spangled heaven; and he will see the sky and the stars by night better than the sun or the light of the sun by day?

Certainly.

Last of he will be able to see the sun, and not mere reflections of him in the water, but he will see him in his own proper place,
and not in another; and he will contemplate him as he is.
Certainly.

He will then proceed to argue that this is he who gives the season and the years, and is the guardian of all that is in the visible
world, and in a certain way the cause of all things which he and his fellows have been accustomed to behold?

Clearly, he said, he would first see the sun and then reason about him.

And when he remembered his old habitation, and the wisdom of the den and his fellow-prisoners, do you not suppose that he
would felicitate himself on the change, and pity them?

Certainly, he would.

And if they were in the habit of conferring honours among themselves on those who were quickest to observe the passing
shadows and to remark which of them went before, and which followed after, and which were together; and who were therefore
best able to draw conclusions as to the future, do you think that he would care for such honours and glories, or envy the
possessors of them? Would he not say with Homer,

Better to be the poor servant of a poor master, and to endure anything, rather than think as they do and live after their manner?

Yes, he said, I think that he would rather suffer anything than entertain these false notions and live in this miserable
manner.

Imagine once more, I said, such an one coming suddenly out of the sun to be replaced in his old situation; would he not be certain
to have his eyes full of darkness?

To be sure, he said.

And if there were a contest, and he had to compete in measuring the shadows with the prisoners who had never moved out of the
den, while his sight was still weak, and before his eyes had become steady (and the time which would be needed to acquire this
new habit of sight might be very considerable) would he not be ridiculous? Men would say of him that up he went and down he
came without his eyes; and that it was better not even to think of ascending; and if any one tried to loose another and lead him up
to the light, let them only catch the offender, and they would put him to death.

No question, he said.

This entire allegory, I said, you may now append, dear Glaucon, to the previous argument; the prison-house is the world of sight,
the light of the fire is the sun, and you will not misapprehend me if you interpret the journey upwards to be the ascent of the soul
into the intellectual world according to my poor belief, which, at your desire, I have expressed whether rightly or wrongly God
knows. But, whether true or false, my opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last of all, and is seen
only with an effort; and, when seen, is also inferred to be the universal author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light and
of the lord of light in this visible world, and the immediate source of reason and truth in the intellectual; and that this is the power
upon which he who would act rationally, either in public or private life must have his eye fixed.
 Plato’s Idealism

Written: 1861;
Translator: J. Karzer;
Source: Russian Philosophy Volume II: The Nihilists, The
Populists, Critics of Religion and Culture, Quadrangle Books 1965;
Transcribed: Harrison Fluss, February 2008.

Plato is unquestionably entitled to our esteem as a powerful mind and a

remarkable talent. The colossal mistakes this talent made in the sphere of
abstract thought derived not from weakness of mind, shortness of sight, or
timidity of thought, but from the predominance of the poetic element, from
deliberate contempt of the testimony of experience, and from an
overweening desire, common in powerful minds, to extract the truth from
the depths of one’s own creative spirit instead of examining and studying it
in particular phenomena.

Despite his mistakes and the complete untenability of his system, Plato
may with all justice be called the father of idealism. Whether this was a
signal service to humanity is, of course, a question that will be answered in
different ways by representatives of different schools of abstract thought.
But whatever the answer, nobody will deny Plato a place of honor in the
history of science. Geniuses sometimes make felicitous mistakes that have a
stimulating effect on the minds of whole generations. At first highly
popular, later they are criticized; the popularity and the subsequent criticism
together long serve as a school for mankind, as the ground of an intellectual
struggle, as an occasion for the development of capacities, as a guiding and
determining principle of historical trends and radical changes.

Plato, however, did not confine himself to the realm of pure thought, and
he failed to realize that the true meaning of historical and political life
cannot be understood while experience and individual phenomena are
neglected. He tried to solve practical problems without even knowing how
to pose them properly, so that his efforts in this direction are so feeble and
groundless that they collapse completely at the lightest touch of criticism.
His efforts show no rational love for mankind, no respect for the individual,
no artistic proportion, no unity of purpose, no moral loftiness of ideal.
 Imagine a fanciful but ugly edifice – one with arches, pediments,
porticoes, belvederes, and colonnades, none of which has any practical
purpose – and you will get an idea of the impression produced on the reader
by Plato’s treatises, the Republic and the Laws. “The primary aim of the
state,” Plato thinks, “is to make its citizens virtuous and ensure the material
and moral welfare of all.” Recent investigators, as for instance Wilhelm
Humboldt (Ideejt zu einem Versuch die Qrenzen der Wirksam-keit des
Staats zu bestimmen),view the matter in a different light and define the state
as a protective institution that safeguards the individual against abuse and
attack by internal and external enemies. By this definition they release the
adult citizen from the peculiar and unwanted guardianship imposed upon
him throughout his life in Plato’s republic.

Apart from the erroneousness of the basic view, we find that the aim
Plato pursued cannot even be achieved by the means and methods he
suggested in his treatises. Virtue is required of the citizen, but Plato places
the latter under humiliating restraints, against which moral and aesthetic
feeling must rise up. The reader is faced with a dilemma: either the citizens,
as self-respecting people, will not put up with this constraint, in which case
all of Plato’s institutions go by the board; or else they will submit to it and,
systematically perverted by it, will lose the capacity to be virtuous. Virtue
(even as Plato understands it) and the observance of the laws in his ideal
state are two incompatible principles. Wisdom, courage, temperance, and
justice are the four cardinal virtues in Plato’s moral philosophy. Which of
these four virtues denies man the right of free criticism and results in
absolute submission? If none of these virtues is fit for the dutiful citizens of
the ideal state, then that means that Plato separates the ideal of man from the
ideal of the citizen.

Many thinkers of antiquity, among them Aristotle in his Politics, say that
virtue can be achieved only by the fully enfranchised citizens and does not
exist for the slave, the artisan, or the woman. But Plato, who imposes
unnatural and offensive restraints upon all the citizens of his state, goes
much further. He gives society a structure which, by its very existence,
makes it impossible not only to attain the ideal but even to strive towards it.
Coming from a thinker who believes that there is no salvation apart from an
ideal, such an arrangement must seem exceedingly peculiar. If a man’s ideal
cannot be achieved even theoretically in civil society, the conclusion
follows either that man must live and develop outside society, or else that
the notorious ideal is a useless plaything of idle imagination. Neither of
those conclusions would have pleased Plato, but both can be eliminated only
by rejecting Utopian theory or revising the ideal. In Plato’s republic there
are officials, warriors, artisans, tradesmen, slaves, and females – but there
are no human beings, nor can there be any. Each individual is a cog, a
pinion, or a wheel of a certain size and shape in the machine of state: aside
from this official function he has no significance in any quarter: he is neither
son, nor brother, nor husband, nor father, nor friend, nor lover. He is taken
from his mother’s breast at birth and placed in a home for children; he is not
shown to his parents for several years, and his origin is deliberately
forgotten. He is brought up in the same way as other children of the same
age, and as soon as he begins to remember things and to be aware of himself
he feels that he is state property, linked to no one and to nothing in the
world around him. When he grows up he is assigned a definite post; he
becomes a warrior, and warlike exercises become his chief occupation and
amusement. As a good citizen he is obliged to put into these exercises the
remnants of energy and soul that have not been dried up by his schooling.
When his beard appears and his masculine strength has developed he is
examined and certified by a special dignitary, who then brings him a young
girl fit, in the dignitary’s opinion, to become the young man’s wife. The
offspring accrue to the advantage of society and are treated in exactly the
same fashion as the parents were. When a man grows old, he is made a civic
official and appointed to some existing department: he becomes a judge, or
a treasurer, or is placed in charge of young people, according to what he has
been found suited for. Trade and the handicrafts are considered demeaning
to the full-fledged citizen and are forbidden by law.

The external forms in which these political convictions must be embodied

are barely sketched in Plato’s works. He thinks that the wisest and worthiest
must stand at the head of the state, but it is a matter of supreme indifference
to him whether it be one sage or several.

As an aristocrat by birth and a man who thought himself immeasurably

superior to the masses in intellect and moral dignity, Plato found the
democratic form of rule repugnant... . According to Plato, rulers have no
obligations towards the individuals they rule, so that deceit, violence, and
arbitrariness are permitted as tools of government. The laws of morality
which are binding on private individuals do not apply to statesmen; the
latter must be wise but the right to judge the degree of their wisdom is taken
away from the individuals most interested and is, it seems, granted only to
the Demiurge. On the one hand, arbitrariness has only the limits he deigns to
give it. On the other hand, no limitation is placed on submissiveness, and if
it begins to slacken it must be increased artificially, by measures moral or
physical, stringent or mild, depending on the patient’s constitution and the
doctor’s discretion. The removal of harmful influences must play an
important role in the moral education or medical treatment to be applied to
the citizens of the ideal state. Homer is banished as an immoral teller of
fairy tales; myths are rewritten and stuffed with exalted ideas; statues of
Apollo and Aphrodite are draped in the interests of decency. To prevent
citizens of the ideal state from being led into temptation by neighboring
peoples, intercourse with foreign lands must be made as difficult and limited
as possible. ... It would be useless to analyze such regulations, for they
speak for themselves loudly and eloquently.

I shall permit myself the observation that to mankind’s credit, the spirit of
Plato’s political ideas has never attempted to win a place in real life. The
most unbridled despots – men like Xerxes of Persia, Caligula, and Domitian
– have never tried to destroy the family or to reduce their nation to the level
of a stud farm with – a stroke of the pen. Fortunately for their subjects, these
gentlemen were not philosophers; they butchered people as a pastime, but at
least they did not try to remake mankind or systematically pervert their
fellow citizens. Enlightened and intelligent despots like Louis XI, Tiberius,
and Ferdinand the Catholic exerted a conscious influence on their subjects,
but their projects and indeed their wildest dreams never achieved the
majesty and boldness that mark Plato’s ideas. They shared the same
aspirations, but Plato, spurred by his poetic genius, pursued these aspirations
with unparalleled energy. The mighty spirit of criticism and doubt, the
element of freethinking and individuality was the worst enemy of such
aspirations and was therefore hateful to Plato. The slogan of national
welfare provided all these men with a moral support, and Plato, too,
employed it. The army was their material support, and the same force plays
an important role in Plato’s republic. Like the sages of the ideal republic,
these rulers thought themselves the worthiest and the best of their fellow
citizens, men called upon to be the instructors and physicians of an
underdeveloped and morally sick humanity. Roman torture and executions,
the Spanish Inquisition, the campaigns against the Albigenses, Cardinal La
Balue’s cage, the flames that licked Huss at the stake, the Massacre of Saint
Bartholomew, the Bastille, and so on and so forth may be termed bitter but
useful medicines which at various times and in varying doses the healers of
mankind have administered to their patients willy-nilly, without asking their
consent. The principle advanced by Plato in the Republic and the Laws is
not unknown to latter-day European civilization.
Plato's Idealism
Idealism, the theory that reality is based on absolute truths (or forms) and not
materialism, is one of the oldest systematic philosophies in western culture.

• Its origin dates back to Plato (427-347 B.C.E.), a student of Socrates (469-399
B.C.E.). Under his inspiration for challenging materialist convention, especially
of Sophists, Plato developed idealism and greatly influenced the future of
public education.
• Moreover, the Greek philosopher Socrates' method of challenging the status
quo of Greek citizens was through the dialectic question and answer approach
that was done orally and not written down.
• After his (Socrates) execution in Athens for his beliefs, Plato interpreted and
most likely added to some of these dialogues. Today, scholars usually refer to
the ideas of both philosophers as Platonic philosophy. Since the time of ancient
Greece, many philosophers have contributed to the development of idealism.

Platonic idealism consists of the philosophical, social and educational ideas of the
Greek philosopher Plato. Being a disciple of Socrates, he believed in the Socratic
dialectic method. This method can be seen in the Republic and the Laws, two of his
famous works. After Socrates' death, he opened his own school, the Academy, in
which he further developed idealism. The search for truth in all things through
Socratic dialogue was the basis for the school.

The first principle and basis for platonic idealism is the concept of absolute truth.

• Plato taught that truth is in all things.

• People should search for truth because it is eternal and perfect.
• He envisioned that since there are universal truths in mathematics (the concept
of 2+2=4 was true before being discovered), then there must be the same in
other fields such as politics, religion and education.
• Therefore, the search for absolute truth is the quest of the philosopher.

Being against materialism, he wrote about his second principle in the Republic.

• There is a separation between the world of ideas (or forms) and world of
matter.
• The idea of the Good was the source of all true knowledge.
 • The world of matter was characterized as unstable, constantly changing sensory
data that was untrustworthy.
• He taught that people should embrace ideas and reject matter to progress
toward the Good. This can be achieved through use of the elenchus
• This is done through open-mindedness and not with a selfish desire to win. It is
also requires a firm grasp of subject knowledge and critical focus.

Plato thought the elenchus or dialectic could be used to help people embrace ideas and
become less materialistic.

It could help people to use reason to reach universal truths waiting to be discovered in
many fields.

He believed it was the "dividing line" between the unpredictable world of the
material and the uncharted, abstract world of ideas.

Concerning his philosophy on education, Plato believed that

• people are born ignorant, living in a cave of shadows and illusions, chained by
apathy.
• Those of us who break free and become enlightened have a duty to help the
rest.
• The philosophers and educators in Greek society had a duty to raise the self-
awareness of its people by helping the ignorant discover knowledge.

The third principle was that Plato believed knowledge wasn't created, but
discovered.

• He believed that the human soul is born with true knowledge; however, it is
lost when placed in a material body, which corrupts such knowledge (similar to
Adam and Eve allegory).
• Consequently, people have a lifetime of work to recall these forgotten truths.
• Socrates illustrated a similar idea concerning undiscovered knowledge in his
Doctrine of Reminiscence.

The kind of education Plato wanted was one where his students were encouraged to
embrace the concept of the Good and the universal truths that already exist.
He wanted the state to take an active role in education Although he may have been the
first to philosophize about art (paintings, sculpture, music, etc.), he felt it should be
censored and regulated because it was an imitation of the material world and not
reflective of true knowledge.

Plato saw a society where equal opportunity existed on all levels. Girls and boys could
develop themselves to the fullest, but those who showed difficulty in abstract thinking
should pursue careers that contribute to the practical realities of life, such as industry,
business and military affairs. There would be three classes: workers, militia and
rulers. Those that demonstrated skill in the dialectic would become philosophers that
would lead the state toward attaining the Good.

Forms

For Socrates and for Plato those ideas, forgotten truths are what matter and are what
we know. Whenever we call numerous things by one name, it is because the mind
confers a specific character on those things. It is that character which we know; it is
those characters which people our specifically human world. In Plato's Dialogues such
a character is referred to as auto to, eidos, idea, or ousia, indifferently.

Many of the earlier Dialogues share a common pattern. In the course of a casual
conversation, mention is made of a virtue, or Socrates may manoeuvre to smuggle in
the word: in the Charmides it is temperance or self-control; in the Laches it is
courage; in the Euthyphro it is piety. Socrates takes hold of the word and shows
himself desirous, by the help of his interlocutor, to understand just what this virtue is
in itself.

The question, when it comes, is put simply and directly: "Tell me what you say
temperance is. (Charmides, 159a.)" "Let us first try to say what courage is ... Try
to tell me, what is courage? (Laches, 190d-e.)" "What do you say the pious is and
what the impious? (Euthyphro, 5d.)"

And when the interlocutor fails to understand the true intent of Socrates' question, as
they commonly do, and answers by giving instances of the virtue in question, Socrates
takes pains to explain that what he is after is not an instance and not an inventory of
instances, but the character in itself, the one Form, idea (Euthyphro, 5d).

So he remonstrates with Euthyphro: "Remember then that I did not ask you to
show me one or two out of the many instances of piety, but to show me the
character itself by which all that is pious is pious. (6d.)"
Thus Socrates makes plain what it is he is after when he raises such a question:
he wants to arrive at what gives a thing its character.

"Is it not by justice that the just are just? (Hippias Major 287c.)"

It is that search for an intelligible character distinct from the instances in which it is
exemplified and the insistence on the logical and axiological priority of the unique
intelligible character over the many existent entities that is the core of Socrates' whole
thought and that is his lasting contribution to human thought.

It forms the pivot of Plato's Idealism and is the origin of what was to be known as
the theory of Ideas (Forms).

In our speech we use words like good, bad, just, brave, equal, small, large. It is not
possible to have language without such counters for general characters. Aristotle tells
us we get our general ideas (universals) by abstraction from the things we experience.
But what really is abstraction? A thousand trees seen one after the other or one beside
the other will remain a thousand disparate impressions or a single conglomerate
impression. It is only when the mind creates the character 'tree' and decrees, "I will
call that a tree", that trees become trees.

Likewise I see many things small and big. But nothing in itself is small or big.
Nothing in my immediate experience is small or big. It is not enough that I see a
thousand or a million small things to form the idea small, for nothing of what I see is
small until I have named it small; nothing is small or big until I have created the
distinctions small and big. This is so for every character, for every name. The mind
creates a pattern by virtue of which the given in experience becomes meaningful.

In the Republic Socrates says that we assume a single Form (eidos) whenever there
are many particulars to which we apply the same name (596a.). And further on he
says that we have on the one hand numerous beautiful things and numerous good
things, and on the other hand, a beautiful in itself and a good in itself, each a single
Form (idea), a single being, that which is (597b).

Socrates saw clearly that the Forms which make discourse possible are not to be
found in the objective world, do not come to us from outside us, but are born in
the mind.

The whole of Socrates' life-work makes no sense apart from this, and whether we
ascribe the doctrine of anamnesis to Socrates or to Plato, it was a fine mythical
expression of the insight that all understanding is a flowering of the soul (mind). The
truth at the core of the doctrine of reminiscence is the priority of the intelligible
Form for understanding. To say that ideas are creations of the mind is not to say that
they are arbitrary fictions: they are significant patterns in which alone the things of the
world become meaningful.