andrew w. moore | reading

Giving this text three stars feels a bit silly. It’s hard to overstate how foundational The Republic is! It feels sort of like giving the epic of Gilgamesh two stars because it wasn’t your cup of tea— presumably that’s not a common reason why people read something like Gilgamesh. At the same, time, I suppose that preference is all my little ratings can ever really express. Going through this text also highlights another “metadata” problem— I’ve not been 100% consistent about recording the publishing dates of the editions I read. Here I’ve recorded 2020, because that’s when the narration was recorded, but I’d like to be able to note when I’m reading a book that was first written outside of my lifespan! But this one is obviously a huge outlier, even if we had a firm date/year for when it first appeared.

In any case, here are a few of my thoughts on Plato’s Republic. During college I read various parts of Plato’s works (such as the allegory of the cave), and learned about many of the concepts described in this text (such as the notions of philosopher kings and Platonic ideals). However, all of that was over ten years ago (oof) and I’d never read the Republic in full. On a lark after finding an audiobook recording, I decided to go through this one. I believe the narration uses Benjamin Jowett’s translation.

First, it seems like this text does a fair bit of foreshadowing of why the Athenians ultimately charged Socrates for blasphemy and corruption of the youth (and excuted him). Socrates seems careful to directly dispage the Gods or divinity, but it’s clear that he intends to refer to them in a specific way, i.e., as ideals of perfection. Socrates repeatedly criticizes Greek society’s handling of cultural works (such as poetry and storytelling), objecting to portrayals such as those found in the works of Homer. In the various parts of the Republic where the subject of divinity appears, Socrates is clearly opposed to presentations that show the Gods acting out of jealousy, anger, or other unvirtuous motivations. For Socrates, the goal appears to be to establish a moral hierarchy, with divinity clearly above/outside common humanity and aligned with conceptions of the Good. However, I’d imagine that this technical approach could seem quite unusual (or even radical) to an average person, especially if you were accustomed to believing that Gods often punish mortals for slights or disloyalty.

Second, reading/listening to the Republic reminded me how useful dialogues are for “doing” philosophy. As a character in the dialogue, Socrates can be variously funny, annoying, tentative, and repetitive. We only have what Plato gives us, and from what I know of ancient philosophy, no one believes the dialogues are meaningfully biographical.¹ But distance from the actual author of the text makes the writing feel much less formal. There’s space for jokes, for characters to be self-deprecating, for the author to emphasize or expand on topics via a someone’s self-awareness or questioning and debate between dialogists. The weaving of their contemporary culture into the discussion is interesting! This isn’t to say the style doesn’t have disadvantages, but it does make things feel more human.² It strikes me that some of my favorite contemporary fiction (such as early episodes of Black Mirror, Pluribus, and Severance) dips into this space, with interactions between characters and their settings doing effective work at demonstrating philosophical questions or dilemmas.

Third, it’s clear to me why the Republic has been seen as controversial across different ages. It’s both amusing and tragic to see conservatives in our time complaining about “decadence” or how democracy leads to tyranny, and see shadows of these arguments in a text more than 2,500 years old. On the other hand, one could see this as a testament to how modern Plato’s writing feels. We’re still human after all this time, and we haven’t shed our questions and anxieties about living together in our cities. This resonance has prompted me to dwell on the society that Socrates and his companions sketch, which includes various ideas that we understand as totalitarian or authoritarian today.³ I think I’m persuaded that Plato never meant for the Republic to serve as a blueprint, and that the wrestling with its controversial aspects is meant to serve as exercise for the text’s audience. But, given that we have seen people argue seriously in favor of organizing society via eugenics and political elitism (key components of Socrates’s idealized republic), it’s not easy to overlook the features of a society that Socrates describes as the “best” form of government. Plato’s distrust of democracy (especially visible in book 8) is also not encouraging.

That said, I admit attraction to a society more broadly and authentically invested in the pursuit of virtue and wisdom. It is extremely disheartening to see the proliferation of gambling and wanton destruction of institutions dedicated to producing knowledge (self-imposed or otherwise). Plato’s insight that those who are reluctant to rule, people who are honest and do not hold a love of money, are best fit for public service feels extremely relevant in 2026. It’s also extremely interesting to see an ancestor of an intuition we see today, namely that the spread of inequality in one’s society pushes it towards revolution (book 8, Socrates in italics):

Well, I said, and how does the change from oligarchy into democracy arise? Is it not on this wise?—The good at which such a State aims is to become rich as possible, a desire which is insatiable?

What then?

The rulers, being aware that their power rests upon their wealth, refuse to curtail by law and extravagance of the spendthrift youth because they gain by their ruin; they take interest from them and buy up their estates and thus increase their own wealth and importance?

To be sure.

There can be no doubt that the love of wealth and the spirit of moderation cannot exist together in citizens of the same state to any considerable extent; one or the other will be disregarded.

That is tolerably clear.

And in oligarchical States, from the general spread of carelessness and extravagance, men of good family have often been reduced to beggary?

Yes, often.

And still they remain in the city; there they are, ready to sting and fully armed, and some of them owe money, some have forfeited their citizenship; a third class are in both predicaments; and they hate and conspire against those who have got their property, and against everybody else, and are eager for revolution.

On the other hand, the men of business, stooping as they walk, and pretending not even to see those whom they have already ruined, insert their sting—that is, their money—into someone else who is not on his guard against them, and recover the parent sum many times over multipled into a family of children: and so they make drone and pauper to abound in the State.

Yes, he said, there are plenty of them — that is certain.

The evil blazes up like a fire; and they will not extinguish it, either by restricting a man’s use of his own property, or by another remedy …

Here we see Socrates placing blame on the “spendthrift youth” of a society, which assumes widespread lack of personal virtue is the primary generator of misfortune within an oligarchy. Vulnerability to exploitation stems from personal deficits of virtue, following from book 8’s broader argument that societies emerge from the kinds of souls that inhabit them. Plato recognizes that societies alternately constrain and encourage the actions their members take, but the emphasis seems to be on the individual (and their upbringing). This perspective certainly isn’t extinct, but today’s social science broadly acknowledges or affords greater roles for structures/institutions in shaping the constraints that individuals experience. Setting these nuances aside, Plato is concluding that independent actions within a ruling class operate collectively, ensuring that practices of exploitation remain unregulated.⁴ It’s surreal to read this, given the degree to which our current century’s history can be understood as downstream consequences of unrestrained wealth accumulation.

Lastly, I don’t remember ever learning about the journey of Ur that Socrates recounts in the final book. It’s interesting to see a notion of reincarnation appear in ancient Greek philosophy. There’s some commonalities with the Buddhist notion of samsara, especially in regards to the ethical implication that one ought to live moderately and wisely to ensure smooth and milder transitions between successive mortal existences.

In summary, this was an interesting listen! While writing up this review, I grabbed the edition available from Project Gutenberg— I think I’ll reread some of the books more closely now that I have a sense for what each section is up to.