On Plato's "Apology"

Central to Plato’s Apology is Socrates’ perception of piety, and how such a perception clashes not only with that of the jury but also with that of the Athenian public. To Socrates, “piety” is not necessarily synonymous with the traditional, dogmatic values of the city. Instead, he defines piety in whatever terms his interior—his “sign” (70)—suggests. Socrates refers to such a “sign” several times in the text (also calling it a “prophetic voice” (68)), but explains what he means by such a term only once, on page fifty eight: “I am subject to a divine…experience…it began in my early childhood—a sort of voice which comes to me…” It is important to note that Socrates uses the word “divine” to describe the processes of his conscience—his use of the word “divine” implies that every choice he makes in accordance with his “sign” is sanctioned by the gods. He uses such a justification as proof that has not committed “anything unjust or unholy” (59). Although he has gone against the wishes of society at large (and is consequently indicted for such action), he, in an ethical sense, has done nothing wrong, nothing “impious” (59).

Nonetheless, it is clear, according to his accusers, that Socrates is on trial because he “[corrupts] the young” (48) and “disbelieves in gods altogether” (51). Socrates responds to such allegations with an anecdote, recounting a choice he made when he served on the city’s “Council” (59). He mentions that every member of the “executive” (59) decided to try the accused “en bloc,” which “was illegal, as [the members of the Council] recognized later,” while he was “the only member” who opposed “acting in any way unconstitutionally” (59). Socrates voted against the proposal, in the face of denunciation and arrest. The reason Socrates provides for making such a choice is that he “thought it was [his] duty to face it out on the side of law and justice rather than support [the majority]” (59)—Socrates was able, in his anecdote, to make the distinction between the often flawed justice of men and the always, “eternally good” (57) justice of the gods. Naturally, voicing a view that is inconsistent with that of society (or, in the case of Socrates’ anecdote, the “Council”) poses a threat to such a society’s stability. Nonetheless, Socrates does so—in spite of the apparently purveying Athenian idea of groupism—because he is following his own interpretation of divine law.

Thus, the reason why Socrates “[incurs] a great deal of bitter hostility” from his fellow Athenians is not because he is disregarding what is “holy,” but rather because he disregarded society’s definition of “holy.” He reconciles such inconsistencies by suggesting that “the true champion of justice…must necessarily confine himself to a private life and leave politics alone” (58), implying that, as humans, it is virtually impossible for us to agree on absolute definitions of justice and piety. It is in this way that Socrates is perhaps suggesting that a purely democratic society is destined for failure—in the eyes of Socrates, “humanity” is inextricably interwoven with individual thought, and, consequently, disagreement. If the basis of a harmonious democratic society is absolute agreement and a conspicuous absence of conflict, then what is means to be democratic is inconsistent with what it means to be human.