" ii,5l',i;i[;î:;l.

;;
I'iiîlw
- Coxrerrs
^Ë! l$;'"'us' à"
EorroR'sPnence

l. The WordPanhesia 9
i-'3 .ç i! ;î q -1 '1 Tne Mearrxc oF THEWoRD t1
1n
Frankness
Truth 13
Danger 15
Criticism 17
Duty 19
Txe Evolurror or rxe Wono 20
Rhetoric 20
Politics 22
Philosophy 23

2. Panhesia in Euripides 25
Tnt PnoexrcnN WoMEN 28
Htpeotwus 30
Special thanks to Johanna Balusikova for design and to Sylvère
Tne Beccuee 31
Lotringer and Ben Meyers for editing and copy-editing
Eæcrne JJ

O Gérard Aimé and Daniclle Bancilhon for the Foucault photos on the lox 36
front cover and inside back cover, respectively. Hermes'Prologue 38
This work received support liom the Irrench Ministry of Foreign Affairs
Apollo'sSilence 40
and the Cultural Servicesofthe French Embassy in the United States. lon's Role 44
Greusa'sRole ^t
Serniotext(e)
Onesres 57
2 5 7 1 ! q . 5 ' hS t r e e t
l - o s A n g e l e s ,C a . 9 0 0 5 7 U S A Pnoalemrrrzrre PlanrrsLa 71
e-rnail: forcignagent(û'earthlink.net
3. Panhesia in the Crisis of Democratic Institutions 75
2001 O Semiotext(e)
All rights reserved.
P r i n t e d i n t h e U n i t e d S t a t e so f A m e r i c a
4. Panhesia in the Care of the Self 89
Socnlrrc Pannnesn 91
Tx: Pnrcrrce oç Paannesu l07
In Human Relationships 107
Communitylife r08
Publiclife 115
Persona I relationships 133
In Techniquesof Examination 142
Preliminaryremarks 142
Solitaryself-examination 145 "My intention was not to deal with the problemof truth, but
Self-diagnosis r50 with the problem of the truth-teller,or of truth-telling as an
Self-testing 160 activity:. . . who is able to tell the truth, about what, with
what consequences, and with what relationsto power.. . .
Concluding Remarks ffiith the question of the importanceof telling the truth,
167
knowing who is able to tell the truth, and knowing why we
Bibliography 175 should tell the truth, we have the rootsof what we could call
the 'critical' tradition in the West."

Michel Foucault
EDrroR'sPnerlce

The following text was compiled from tape-recordingsmade of

six lectures delivered,in English, by Michel Foucault at the
University of California at Berkeley in the Fall Tèrm of 1983.
The lectures were given as part of Foucault's seminar, entitled
"Discourse and Tiuthr" devoted to the study of the Greek
notion of parhesin or "frankness in speakingthe truth."
Since Foucault did not write, correct, or edit any part of
the text which follows, it lacks his imprimatur and does not
reflect his own lecture notes. \(hat is given here constitutes
only the notesofone ofhis auditors.Although the presenttext
is primarily a verbatim transcription of the lectures,repetitive
sentencesand phrases have been eliminated, responsesto
questionshave beenincorporated,wheneverpossible,into the
lectures themselves.more accessibletranslations of certain
Greek texts have been substituted, and numerous sentences
have been revised,all in the hope of producing a more read-
ablesetofnotes.The division ofthe lecturesinto sections,the
section headings,all footnotes,and a bibliography giving ref-
erencesto footnoted material, also have been added.
The editor gratefully acknowledgeshis indebtednessto
John Carvalho for providing information which enabledhim
to audit Foucault's course.He also expresseshis gratitude to
Dougal Blyth for advice on various matters pertaining to the
classical Greek texts Foucault discusses.In addition, he
thanks Jacquelyn Tâylor for her help in locating some of
Foucault'sreferences.

JosephPearson
l)epartmcnt o1 l'hilosophr', Northwestcrn LJniversitl'
 S
q
q)
.s
t
^\)
\
t<
\.>
C)
t-'r
F E A R L E S SS P E E c H

Txe MeerrNGoF rxe WoRo'

The word panhesia [rappqoicr] appears for the first time in

Greek literature in Euripides 1c.48Ç407 B.C.l, and occurs
throughout the ancient Greek world of letters from the end of
the Fifth Century B.C. But it can also still be found in the
patristic texts written at the end of the Fourth and during the
Fifth Century A.D.-dozens of times, for instance, in Jean
Chrysostome[4.D. 345-407].
There are three forms of the word: the nominal form par-
rhesia;the verb formpcnhesiazomai Incrpprlotci(opar] (or bet-
reg panhesiazesthai[no.pprlora(eç0ar]); and there is also the
word panhesia.rres hû,ppl1oraocriç], which is not very frequent
and cannot be found in the Classicaltexts. Rather,you find it
only in the Greco-Romanperiod-in Plutarch and Lucian, for
example.In a dialogueof Lucian, "The Dead Come to Life, or
The Fisherman,"3 one of the charactersalso has the name
ParrhesiadesI ncrpprloraôriç].
Parrhesiais ordinarily translated into English by "free
speech" (in French by franc-parler, and in German by
Freimûthighei). Panhesiazomaior panhesiazesthaiis to usepar-
rhesia, and the panhesiastesis the one who usesparîhesia,i.e.,
the one who speaksthe truth.
In the first part of today's seminar,I would like to give

l. FirstLecture:l0 October1983.
2. Cf. H. Liddell & R. Scott, "Ilappqotcr" in A Gteeh-English Lexicon,
1344; Pierre Miquel, "floppqoto." in Dictitnnaire de Spiitualité, Vol. 12,
col. 260-261; and Heinrich Schlier, "Hctpprlorcr, Ilcrpprlotci(opar" in
TheologicalDictionary of the New Tëstament,Vol. 5, 871-886.
3. Lucian, "The Dead Come to Life, or The Fisherman," Tians. A. M.
H a r m o n i n T h e l V o r h s o fL u c i a n , V o l . 3 , l - 8 1 .
 M i c h e lF o u c a u l t
a general aperçu about the meaning of the wordpaffhesio, aîd
the evolution of this meaningthrough Greekand Roman culture.
Frankness
To begin with, what is the general meaning of the word par-
rhesia?Etymologically, panhesiazeslàalmeans "to say every-
thing"-from pan ln&vl (everything) andrhema tbfrpcrl (that
which is said). The one who usespanhesia, the panhesiastes, is
someonewho sayseverything hea has in mind: he does not
hide anything, but opens his heart and mind completely to
other peoplethrough his discourse.Inpanhesia,the speakeris
supposedto give a completeand exactaccountofwhat he has
in mind so that the audienceis able to comprehendexactly
what the speaker thinks. The word panhesia,then, refers to a
type ofrelationship betweenthe speakerand what he says.For
in panhesia,the speakermakesit manifestly clear and obvious
that what he says is his ozuzopinion. And he does this by
avoiding any kind of rhetorical form which would veil what he
thinks. Instead, the panhesiartesuses rhe most direct words
and forms of expressionhe can frnd. \Thereasrhetoric pro-
vides the speakerwith technical devicesto help him prevail
upon the minds of his audience (regardless of the rhetorician's
own opinion concerning what he says), in panhesia, the par-
rhesiastesacts on other people's minds by showing them as
directly as possiblewhat he actually believes.
If we distinguish betweenthe speakingsubfect(the subject
of enunciation) and the grammaticalsubjectof the enounced,
4. Responding to a student's question, Foucault indicated that the
oppressedrole ofwomen in Greek society generally deprived them ofthe
use of panhesia (along with aliens, slaves, and children). Hence the pre-
dominant use of the masculine pronoun throughout.
I L A R L E S SS P E E c H
we could say that there is also the subject of the enuncian-
dum- which refersto the held belief or opinion of the speak-
er. ln panhesic the speakeremphasizesthe fact that he is both
the subiect of the enunciation and the subject of the enun-
ciandum-that he himself is the subject of the opinion to
which he refers.The specific"speechactivity" ofthe parrhesi-
astic enunciation thus takes the form: "I am the one who
thinks this and that." I use the phrase"speechactivity" rather
than John Searle's"speech act" (or Austin's "performative
utterance")in order to distinguish the parrhesiasticutterance
and its commitments from the usual sorts of commitment
which obtain betweensomeoneand what he or she says.For,
aswe shall see,the commitment involved in panhesiais linked
to a certain social situation) to a difference of status between
the speaker and his audience, to the fact that the panhesiastes
says something which is dangerous to himself and thus
involves a risk, and so on.
Truth
There are tlg_qg:r of panhesia which we must distinguish.
First, there is a pejorativesenseof the word not very far from
"chatteriqgr" and which consistsin saying any- or everything
one has in mind without qualification. This pejorative sense
occurs in Plato,5for example,as a characterizationof the bad
democratic constitution where everyone has the right to
addresshis fellow citizens and to tell them anything-even
the most stupid or dangerousthings for the city. This pejora-
tive meaning is also found more frequently in Christian liter-
ature where such "bad" parrhesiais opposed to silence as a
5. Plato, Republic 577b. Cf. also Phaedrus 240e & Laws 649b,671b.
 MichelFoucault
discipline or as the requisite condition for the contemplarion
of God.6As a verbal activity which reflects every movement of
the heart and mind,pcnhesia tn this negative senseis obvious-
ly an obstacleto the contemplationof God.
Most of the time, however, panhesia does not have this
pejorativemeaning in the classicaltexts, but rather a positive
one.Panhesi.azesthai means "to tell th(truth.l But does the
panneswsrcss?y wnar ne lzlzEïEE]ft-o., n;-r.), *.", r,
really true? To my mind, the parrhesiastes
says what is true
.he Ëaozusthat ir is true
be€gsg-l!_is- really-+rue. The paffhesiastesis not only sincere
and sayswhat is bis opinion, but his opinion is also the truth.
Ilgsays what h{ËzazrI-Jlg[e true. The secondcharacteristic of
panhesia, then, iÈ-tfi-at there is always an exact coincidence
betweenbelief and truth.
It would be interesting to compare Greek panhesla with
the modern (Cartesian) conception of evidence. For since
Descartes, the coincidence between belief and truth is
obtained in a certain (mental) evidential experience.For the
Greeks, however, the coincidence between belief and truth
does not take place in a (mental) experience, but in a oerbal
dctioity, namely, panhesia. It appears that parîhesin, in this
Greek sense,can no longer occur in our modern epistemolog-
ical framework.
I should note that I never found any texts in ancient
Greek culture where the panhesiastes seemsto have any doubts
about his own possessionof the truth. And indeed,that is the
difference between the Cartesian problem and the parrhesias-
6.Cf.G.J.M. Bartelink, observations
"Quelques surrcppqoradanslalit-
térature paléo-chrétienne," in Graecitaset latinitas Christianorum pimaeoa,
Supplement IlI,,+4-55 [napplotcr au sens péioratifl.
F T A R L E S SS P E E c H
tic attitude. For beforeDescartesobtainsindubitably clearand
distinct evidence,he is not certain that what he believesis, in
fact, true. In the Greek conceptionof panhesia,however,there
does not seem to be a problem about the acquisition of the
truth since such truth-having is guaranteedby the possession
of certain moral qlualities: when someone has certain moral
qualities, then that is the proof that he has accessto truth-
and vice versa.The "parrhesiasticgame" presupposesthat the
panhesiastes is someonewho has the moral qualities which are
required, first, to know the truth, and, secondly,to convey
such truth to others.T
If there is a kind of *proof" of the sincerity of thepanhe-
siastes, it ishis courage'Fhefaet that a speakersayssomething
dangerous-different from what the maiority believes-is
a strong indication that he is a panhesiastes. If we raise the
question of how we can know whether someoneis a truth-
teller,we raisetwo questions.First, how is it that we can know
whether some particular individual is a truth-teller; and sec-
ondly, how is it that the allegedpanhesiastes can be certain that
what he believesis, in fact, the truth. The hrst question-
recognizing someoneas a panhesiastes-wasa very important
one in Greco-Romansocietg and, aswe shall see)was explicit-
ly raised and discussedby Plutarch, Galen, and others. The
second scepticalquestion, however, is a particularly modern
one which, I believe,is foreign to the Greeks.
Danger
Someoneis said to usebanhesiaand merits considerationas a
7. Cf. Foucault interview, "On the Genealogy of Ethics: An Overview of
Vork in Progress," in H. L. Dreyfus & P Rabinow, Michel Fbucault,252.
 l7
MichelFoucault F E A R L E s sS P E E c H

\ù[hen you accept the parrhesiasticgame in which Your,\

parîhesiastes only ifthere is a risk or danger for him in telling
the truth. For instance, from the ancient Greek perspective)a own life is exposed,you are taking up a specific ::3.:i:"tl1l :" /
yourself: you risk aeàîEÏd-îêilînîifrttrTn$édtlôriéposing in'fl
grammar teacher may tell the ûuth to the children that he
course' I
teaches,and indeed may haveno doubt that what he teachesis th. ,e.urity of a life where the truth goesunspoken'Of I
the threat of death comes from the other, and thereby requirest
true. But in spite of this coincidencebetweenbelief and truth, primarily
he is not à par-hesiastes.Howevet, when a philosopher address- a relationship to the Other. But the panhesiastes
himself as
es himself to a sovereign' to a tyrant, and tells him that his choosesa specificrelationship to himself: [qf*p 1f
himselt' ,l
tyranny is disturbing and unpleasant because tyranny is a truIh:teltrer-ratherthan asa living being who is falseto
incompatible with justice, then the philosopher speaks the
Griticism
truth, believes he is speaking the truth, and, more than that,
also takesa rlsÊ(since the tyrant may becomeangry,may pun- If, during a ûial, you saysomething which can be usedagainst
you
you, you may not be usingporrftesiain spite of the fact that
ish him, may exile him, may kill him). And rhat was exactly you are
Plato's situation with Dionysius in Syracuse-concerning are sincere, that you believe what you say is true, and
For in panhe'sia the dan-
which there are very interesting referencesin Plato's Seventh endangering yourself in so speaking'
ger always comes from the fact that the said truth is capable of
Letter, and alsoiaThe Life of Dion by Plutarch. I hopewe shall
study these texts later. hurting or angering the interlocutor'Panhesia is thus always
So you see)thepanhesiastes is someonewho takesa risk' Of a "game" between the one who speaksthe truth and the inter-
,
\ùflhen,for example, locutor. The panhesiainvolved, for example,may be the advice
I .or'rrr., this risk is not alwaysa risk of life. he
you seea friend doing something wrong and you risk incurring that the interlocutor should behave in a certain wây, or that
so on'
his anger by telling him he is wrong, you are acting as a panhc- is wrong in what he thinks' or in the way he acts' and
him-
siostes. In such a case,you do not risk your life, but you may hun Or thepanheslamay be a confessionof what the speaker
self has done insofar as he makes this confession to someone
him by your remarks, and your liiendship may consequently pun-
suffer for it. It in a political debate,âb orator risks losing his who exercisespower over him' and is able to censureor
par-
popularity becausehis opinions are contrary to the maiority's ish him for what he has done. So you see)the function of
rhesia isnot ro demonsrrate rhe trurh ro somein-Eil66t-1râs
opinion, or his opinions may usher in a political scandal, he th€
vsesparîhzsio-Panhesia,then, is linked to courage in the face the
gfhis is whit you do and this is what vou
of danger: it demandsthe courageto speakthe truth in spite of *Sgg-lt
not
tfilf.; î"i-î6"t it what you should not do or should
some danger.And in its extreme form, telling the truth takes you
place in the "game" of life or death. think." "This is the way you behave,but that is the way
what I have done, and was wrong in
It is becausethe parrhesiastesmust take a risk in speaking ought to behave.""This is
so doing." Panhesia is a form of criticism' either towards
the truth that the king or tyrant generally cannot usepatthesia;
another or towardsoneself,but alwaysin a situation where the
for fu risks nothing.

w
 MichelFoucault
speakeror confessoris in a position ofinferiority with respect
to the interlocutor. The parthesia.stss is always less powerful
than the one with whom he speaks.The panhesiacomesfrom
"belowr" as it were, and is directed towards "above." This is
why an ancient Greek would not say that a teacheror father
who criticizes a child usespanhesia.But when a philosopher
criticizes a tyrant, when a citizen criticizes the majority, when
a pupil criticizes his teacher,then such speakersmay be using
panhesia.
This is not to imply, however, thar anyonecaû rrseparrhe-
sia. For although there is a text in Euripides where a servant
usespanhesia,8most of the time the use of panhesia requires
that the paîhesiastes know his own genealogy,his own status;
i.e., usually one must lirst be a mâle citizen to speakthe truth
as a panhesiastes. Indeed, someonewho is deprived of panhes'ia
is in the samesituation as a slaveto the extent that he cannot
take part in the political life of the city, nor play the "parrhe-
siasticgame."In "democraticparrhesia"-yfig1s one speaksto
the assembly,the ekhlesia-one must be a citizen; in fact, one
must be one of the àestamong the citizens, possessingthose
specificpersonal,moral, and social qualities which grant one
the privilege to speak.
However, the panhesiasrer risks his privilege to speakfreely
when he disclosesa truth which threatensthe majority. For it
wasa well-known iuridical situationthat Athenian leaderswere
exiled only because they proposed something which was
opposedby the majority,or evenbecausethe assemblythought
that the stronginfluenceof certainleaderslimited its own free-
dom. And so the assemblywas, in this manner) "protected"
8. Euripides, The Bacchae,666ff.
Fp*'
F E A R L E s sS P E E C H
againstthe truth. That, then, is the institutional background of
"democraticp anhesia"-which must be distinguished from that
"monarchic panhesia" where an advisor gives the sovereign
honest and helpful advice.
Duty
The last characteristic of panhesia is this: in4anhesia,telling
the-truth_lggg3lde d as a duty. The orator who speaksthe truth
to those who cannot aôèë!Ï-his truth' for instance,and who
may be exiled, or punished in some way,is free to keep silent.
No one forces him to speak,but he feels that it is his duty to
do so. \fhen, on the other hand, someoneis compelledto tell
the truih (as, for example, under duress of torturq
A criminal who is
iudges to confesshis crime does not usepanhe-
sia. But if he voluntarily confesseshis crime to someoneelse
outol-asènie-oTrn--or-al@"he-
siastic act. To criticize a friend or a sovereign is an acr ofpar
ffiriisofar as it is a duty to help a friend who does not rec-
ognize his wrongdoing, or insofar as it is a duty towards the
city to help the king to better himself as a sovereign.Panhesia
is thus related to freedom and to duty.
To summarize the foregoing, panhesw is a kind of verbal
activity where the speaker has a specific relation to truth
through frankness, a certain relationship to his own life
through danger, a certain type of relation to himself or other
people through criticism (self-criticism or criticism of other
people), and a specific relation to moral law through freedom
and duty. More precisely,panhesiais a verbal activity in which
a speaker expresseshis personal relationship to truth' and
risks his life becausehe recognizestruth-telling as a duty to
improve or help other people(aswell as himself). In panhesia,
 l \ 4 i c h eFl o u c a u l t
the speakeruseshis f*9dqA_g!djb9gçq{r""k"ess i"$!e"d of
_-----.:--:-
persuasion.truth instead of falsehoodor silence.the ûk of
a."ttr i"st.aa of Ut fl4ttery,
4lapathy. That
then, quite generally,is the positive meaning of the word par-
rhesiain most of the Greek texts where it occurs from the Fifth
Century B.C. to the Fifth Century A.D.
Evolurrot oF THEWono
Now what I would like to do in this seminar is nor to study
and analyze all the dimensions and features oï parrhesia,but
rather to show and to emphasizesomeaspectsof the evolution
of the parrhesiastic game in ancient culture (from the Fifth
Century B.C.) to the beginnings of Christianity. And I think
that we can analyze this evolution from three points of view.
Rhetoric
The first concernsthe relationship o1. panhe.siato rhetoric-
a relationship which is problematic even in Euripides. In !bÈ
Socratic-Platonic tradition, parhesia and rhetoric stand in
tgg jlpottttont and thrs opposltlon appeârsverv clearlv
in the Gorgias,for example, where the word panhesia occurs.e
The continuous long speech is a rhetorical or sophistical
device,whereasthe dialogue through questionsand answers
is typical lor panhesia;i.e., dialogue is a maior technique for
playing the parrhesiasticgame.
The opposition ofpanhesia and rhetoric also runs through
9. Plato, Gorgias 461e, 487a--e, 49Ie
F E A R L E S sS P E E C H
the Ph.aedrus-where, as you know, the main problem is not
about the nature of the opposition between speechand writing
but concernsthe difference between the logoswhich speaksthe
ûuth and ttre logoswhich is not capable of such truth-telling.
This opposition between panhesia and rhetoric, which is so
clear-cutin the Fourth Century B.C. throughout Plalo's writ-
ings, will last for centuries in the philosophical tradition. In
Seneca,for example,one hnds the idea that perso4g!
dons are the best vehicle for frank speaking and truth-telling
insofar as one can dispense,in such conversations,with the
need for rhetorical devicesand ornamentation. And even dur-
ing the SecondCentury A.D. the cultural opposition between
rhetoric and philosophy is still very clear and important.
However,one can also find some signs of the incorporation
of panhcsiawithin the field of rhetoric in the work of rhetori-
cians at the beginning of the Empire. In Quintilliarls Institutn
Otatoriatofor example (Book IX, Chapter II), Quintillian
explains that somerhetorical figures are specificaltyâffiËâa for
intensifuing the emotions of the audience;and such technical
figures he calls by the name exclamatb (exclamation).Relaredto
these exclamations is a kind of natural exclamation which'
Quintillian notes,is not "simulated or artfully designed."This
type of natural exclamation he calls "free speech3'llibera ora-
tbne) which, he tells us, was called "license" fli'centiaf by
Cornificius, and "parhesia" by the Greeks. Pqffhesia is thus
a sort of "figure" among rhetorical hgures, bùtfiîE-ihl*châr:
iË"î ii.ii ùittro"tâ"v âËïiË.i"Ë. i, is completely nat-
".iêilstiî,
ural. Panhesia is the zero degree of those rhetorical figures
which intensify the emotionsof the audience.
10.Quintillian,TheInstitutioChatoiaof Quintillian,Vol.3' 389-439.
 lvlichel Foucault
Politics
The secondimportant aspectof the evolution of panhesiais
related to the political field.rt As it appears in Euripides'
plays and also in the texts of the Fourth Century 8.C., par-
rhesiais an essential characteristic of AiEèniân ilêrÀôêiaôy.
ôl*côUrse, we srillhâvé to investigâTêrfiErdle <ifpaikeiia in
the Athenian constitution. But we can say quite generally
that panhesid was a guideline for democracy as well as an
ethical and personal attitude characteristic of the good
citizen. Athenian democracy was defined very explicitly as
a constitution (politeia)in which people enloyed demokratia,
ûçgo1jq(the equal righl gf speech), xlotlSgiS Ghe equal par-
ticipation of all citizens in the exercise of power), and p*r-
rhesia.Panhe.sia,which is a requisite for public speech,takes
place between citizens as individuals, and also between citi-
zens construed as an assembly.Moreover, the agoro is the
place where panhesiaappears.
During the Hellenistic period this political meaning
changeswith the rise of the Hellenic monarchies.Panhesia
now becomescentered in the relationrhip b.t*.en the sov-
ereign and his advisors or court men. In the monarchic con-
stitution of the state, it is the advisor's duty to usepanhesia
to help the king with his decisions,and to prevent him from
abusing his power. Panhesiais necessaryand useful both for
the king and for the people under his rule. The sovereigu
himself is not a panhesiastes, but a touchstone of the good
11.Cl PierreMiquel,"flappqorcr"in Dictionnaire
deSpiitualité,Vol. I2,
col. 260-261;, Erik Peterson, "Zur Bedeutungsgeschichtevon
"flopprloia" in ReinholdSeebergFestschifi,Bd. l, 283-288; Giuseppe
Scarpat,Parthesia.Storin del terminee dellesuetraduzioniin Latino,29ff;
Heinrich Schlier,"ilcrpp1orcr, noppqoro(opcrf' in TheohgicalDictionary
of the Nez:u
TèstamentVol. 5. 871-873.
F E A R L E S SS P E T C H 23
ruler is his ability to play çhe parrhesiastic g;';re,l Thus,
a good king acceptseverything that a genuiîe pdfthesiastes
tells him, even if it turns out to be unpleasant for him to
hear criticisms of his decisions.A sovereignshows himself
to be a tyrant if he disregardshis honest advisors,or pun-
ishes them for what they have said. The portrayal of a sov-
ereign by most Greek historians takes into account the way
he behavestowards his advisors-as if such behavior were
an index of his ability to hear the panhesiastes.
There is also a third categoryof playersin the monarchic
parrhesiasticgame, viz., the silent majority: the people in
general who are not present at the exchangesbetween the
king and his advisors,but to whom, and on behalf of whom,
the advisors refer when offering advice to the king.
T!f, flg..: where panhelia appears in the context of
monarchic rule is the king's court, and no longer the ogora.
Philosophy
Finally, panhesla'sevolution can be tracedthrough its relation
to the field of philosophy-regarded as an art of lile (technetou
biou).
In the writings ofPlato, Socratesappearsin the role ofthe
panhesiastes. Although the word parrheslaappearsseveraltimes
in Plato, he never uses the word parhesiastes-a word which
only appearslater as part of the Greek vocabulary.And yet the
role of Socraiesis typically a parrhesiasticone, for he constant-
ly confronts Athenians in the street and) as noted in the
Apologt,t2points out the truth to them, bidding them to carefor
wisdom, truth, and the perfection of their souls. And in the
12. Plato, Apolog 29d-e.
 MichelFoucaull

AlcibiadesMajm, aswell, Socratesassumesa parrhesiasticrole in

the dialogue.For whereasAlcibiades' friends and lovers all flat-
ter him in their attempt to obtain his favors, Socratesrisks pro-
voking Alcibiades'angerwhen he leadshim to this idea: that
beforeAlcibiades will be able to accomplish what he is so seron
achieving, viz, to becamethe frrst among the Athenians to rule
Athens and become more powerful than the King of Persia,
before he will be able to take care of Athens, he must hrst learn
to take care of himself. Philosophical panhesiais thus associat-
ed with the theme of the caî-eo--fonésëIf(zptrwfulæntton).r3
By the dme of thë Epicureans;pmrhesià\affinity with the
careof oneself developedto the point wherepanhesiaitself was
primarily regarded as a techneof spiritual guidance for the
"education of the soul." Philodemus [c. lt0-35 B.C.], for 2.
example(who, with Lucretius [c. 99-55 B.C.], was one of the
most significant Epicurean writers during the First Century
Parrhesiain Euripides"
I B.C.),wrote a book aboutpanhesra[tlepjgrpprlô1aç]r4 which
I
concernstechnical pr".ti..r *.ful î#Ë".hiù ùa n.tping
dnï-anottrerin-the Epietrèâtf tonimuffiji. "Vé itratt examine
s-ôifêof thôê parrhesiastictechniquesas they developedin,
for example,the Stoic philosophiesof Epictetus, Seneca,and
others.

B a B L I O T H E E KH 0 ( , i r .r r . :
Y?o' VII.ISBEGFFR i-fi .i, (_t. i,
* *r.n., Foucault,I.e Soucidesoi,58ff. Ktrd Morgetr,tein 2
14.Philodemus,flepi napprlôroç Ed. A. Olivieri. Leipzig,l9l4 I - 3.ic0 LÛi-,i',ùn
F E A R L E S SS P E E c H

Today I would like to begin analyzing the first occurrencesof

the word panhesit in Greek literature. Specifically, I want to
examine the use of the word in six tragediesof Euripides:
Phoenitian lYomenl Hippolytus; The Bacchae; Electra; Ion; and
Orcstes.
In the first four plays, panhesra does not constitute an
important topic or notif; but the word itself generally occurs
within a precisecontext which aids our understanding of its
meaning. In the last two plays-Ion and Orcstes-panhesia
does assumea very important role. Indeed, I think that -Ioz is
entirely devoted to the problem of parrhesiasince it pursues
the question: who has the right, the duty, and the courageto
speakthe truth? This parrhesiasticproblem in.Ion is raisedin
the framework of the relations between the gods and human
beings. ln Orestes-which was written ten years later, and
thereforeis one of Euripides' last plays-therole of panhesiais
not nearly as significant. And yet the play still contains a par-
rhesiastic scene which warrants attention insofar as it is
directly relatedto political issuesthat the Athenianswere then
raising. Here, in this parrhesiasticscene)there is a transition
regarding the question of patthesia as it occurs in the context
of human institutions. Specifically panhesiais seen as both
a political and a philosophical issue.
Today,then, I shall first try to say something about the
occurrencesof the word panhesin in the first four plays men-
tioned in order to throw some more light on the meaning of
the word. And then I shall attempt a global analysisof lon as
the decisiveparrhesiasticplay where we seehuman beings tak-
ing upon themselvesthe role of truth-tellerc-x lsls which the
gods are no longer able to assume.

15. Second Lecture: 3l October 1983.

28
Tue PnoenlctANWouen [c.4lr-4o9 B.C.]
Consider, first, The Phoenician tilomen. The major theme of
this play concerns the fight between Oedipus' two sons:
Eteoclesand Polyneices.
Recall that after Oedipus' fall, in order to avoid their
father's curse that they should divide his inheritance "by
sharpenedsteel," Eteoclesand Polyneicesmake a pact to rule
over Thebes alternately,year by year,with Eteocles(who was
older) reigning first. But after his initial year of reign,
Eteoclesrefusesto hand over the crown and yield power to
his brother, Polyneices.Eteoclesthus representstyranny, and
Polyneices-who lives in exile-represents the democratic
regime. Seeking his share of his father's crown, Polyneices
returns with an army of Argives in order to overthrow
Eteoclesand lay siegeto the city of Thebes. It is in the hope of
avoiding this confrontation that Jocasta-the mother of
Polyneicesand Eteocles,and the wife and mother of Oedipus-
persuadesher two sons to meet in a truce. \Ûhen Polyneices
arrivesfor this meeting,JocastaasksPolyneicesabout his suf-
fering during the time he was exiled from Thebes."Is it real-
ly hard to be exiled?" asksJocasta.And Polyneicesanswers)
"\ù?orsethan anything." And when Jocastaaskswhy exile is so
hard, Polyneicesreplies that it is becauseone cannot enioy
panhesia:
JOCASTA:This aboveall I long to know:What is an
exile's life? Is it great miserY?
POLYNEICES:The greâtest;worsein reality than in
report.
\ù7hatchiefly galls
JOCASTA: Worse in what way?
an exile'sheart?
F Ê A R L E s sS P E E c H
POLYNEICES: The worst is this: right of free speech
doesnot exist. pv pèv pê1totov, our é1errapp4orav.]
JOCASTA: That's a slave'slife-to be forbidden ro
speakone'smind.
POLYNEICES: One has ro endure the idiocv of those
who rule.
JOCASTA: To join fools in their foolishness-rhat
makesone sick.
POLYNEICES:One finds it paysro deny narureand be
a slave.16
As you can see from these few lines, panhesia is linked,
frrst of all, to Polyneices'socialstatus.For if you are nor a reg-
ular citizen in the city, ifyou are exiled, then you cannor use
panhesia.That is quite obvious. Bur somerhing else is also
implied, viz., rhat if you do nor have the right of free speech,
you are unable to exerciseany kind ofpower, and thus you are
in the samesituation as a slave.Further: if such citizens can-
not use paîhesia, they cannot opposea ruler's power. And
without the right of criticism, the power exercisedby a sover-
eign is without limitation. Such power without limitation is
characterizedby Jocastaas "joining fools in their foolishness.',
For power without limitation is directly related to madness.
The man who exercisespower i.
Vt_r9only insofar as there
exists someonewho can usepanhesla to criticize him, thereby
nutfng_9omelimit to his power, to his command.
16. Euripides, The Phoenician lf,/omen.Trans. philip Vellacott, lines 3gG394.
 MichelFoucault
Hrppotwus [az8 B.C.]
The second passagefrom Euripides I want to quote comes
from Hippolyrzs. As you know, the play is about Phaedra'slove
for Hippolytus. And the passageconcerning panhesia occurs
just after Phaedra'sconfession: when Phaedra,early on in the
play, confessesher love for Hippolytus to her nurse (without,
however, actually saying his name). But the word panhesia
doesnot concernthis confession,but refersto somethingquite
different. For iust after her confession of her love for
Hippolytus, Phaedra speaks of those noble and high-born
women from royal households who first brought shame upon
their own family, upon their husband and children, by com-
mitting adultery with other men. And Phaedra says she does
not want to do the same since she wants her sons to live in
Athens, proud of their mother, and exercising panhesia. And
she claims that if a man is consciousof a stain in his familv,
he becomesa slave:
PHAEDRA: I will never be known to bring dishonour on
my husband or my children. I want my two sons to go
back and live in gloriousAthens, hold their headshigh
there, and speak their minds there like free men
[bÀeriOepottcrppqotg OdÀÀovteç], honored for their
mother's name.One thing can make the most bold-spirit-
ed man a slave:to know the secretof a parent's shameful
act. l7
In this text we see,once again, a connection between the
lack of panhesin and slavery. For if you cannot speak freely
lans. Philip Vellacott,
17.Euripides,flrppolyas. lines420-425.
Franrrss Sprecr
becauseyou are awareof dishonor in your family, then you are
enslaved.Also, citizenship by itself doesnot appearto be suf-
ficient to obtain and guarantee the exerciseof free speech.
Honor, a good reputation for oneselfand one's family, is also
neededbefore one can freely addressthe people of the city.
Panhesiathus requires both moral and social qualifications
which come from a noble birth and a respectfulreputation.
TueBeccneElc.4o7-+o6B.C.l
In The Bacchaethere is a very short passage,a transitional
moment, where the word appears.One of Penthss5'ss1ysn15-
a herdsman [Boorôç] and messenger[à.yyeÀoçlto the king-
has come to report about the confusion and disorder the
Maenadsare generating in the community, and the fantastic
deedsthey are committing. But, as you know, it is an old tra-
dition that messengerswho bring glad tidings are rewarded
for the news they convey)whereasthose who bring bad news
are exposedto punishment. And so the king's servant is very
reluctant to deliver his ill tidings ro Penrheus.But he asksthe
king whether he may usepanhesiaand tell him everything he
knows, for he fears the king's wrath. And Pentheuspromises
that he will not get inro trouble so long as he speaksthe trurh:
HERDSMAN: I have seen rhe holy Bacchae,who like
a flight of spearswent streamingbare-limbed,frantic,out
of the city gate.I havecomewirh the intention of telling
you, my lord, and the city, of their strangeand terrible
doings-things beyondall wonder.But first I would learn
whether I may speakfreely [ncrpprlô'tcrQpuôrrl]of what is
going on there,or if I should trim my words. I fear your
 M i c h e lF o u c a u l t
hastiness,my lord, your anger'your too potent royalty.
PENTHEUS: From me fear nothing. Say all that you
have to say; anger should not grow hot againstthe inno-
cent.The more dreadful your story of theseBacchicrites,
the heavierpunishmentI will inflict upon this man who
enticedour women to their evil ways.r8
These lines are interesting because they show a case
the one who speaksthe truth, is not an
where the pa nhesiastes,
entirely free man, but a servantto the king--{ne who cannot
usepanhesia if the king is not wise enough to enter into the
parrhesiasticgame and grant him permission to speakopenly'
For if the king lacks self-mastery' if he is carried away by his
passionsand gets mad at the messenger'then he doesnot hear
the truth, and will also be a bad ruler for the city' But
Pentheus,as a wise king, offers his servant what we can call
a "parrhesiasticcontract."
The "parrhesiastig cqntract"-which became relatively
important in the political life of rulers in the Greco-Roman
world-consists in the following' The sovereign,the one who
has power but lacks the truth, addresseshimself to the one
whg bas.thetruth but lackspower,and tells him: if you tell me
the truthr.no matter what this truth turns out to be, you won't
be punished; and those who are responsiblefor any iniustices
will be punished, but not those who speak the trulh about
sriô[-]riiustices. This idea of the "parrhesiastic contract"
becameassociatedwith panhesiaas a special privilege granted
to the best and most honest citizens of the city. Of course,the
parrhesiasticcontract betweenPentheusand his messengeris
Philip Vellacott,lines 66't-676'
i. Eorioid"., TheBacchae.Tians.
l r aRLEss SpEEcH
only a moral obligation since it lacks all institutional founda-
tion As the king's servant,the messengeris still quite vulner-
able, and still takes a risk in speaking. But, although he is
courageous,he is also not reckless,and is cautious about the
consequences of what he might say.The .,contract" is intend-
ed to limit the risk he takesin speaking.
Etecrnn[ar5B.C.]
In Electra the word panhesia occurs in the confrontâtion
between Electra and her mother, Clytemnestra. I do not need
to remind you of this famous story, but only to indicate that
prior to the moment in the play when the word appears,
Oresteshas just killed the tyrant Aegisthus-Clytemnestra,s
lover and co-murderer (with Clytemnestra) of Agamemnon
(Clytemnestra'shusband and father ro Oresresand Electra).
But right before Clytemnestra appears on the scene, Orestes
hides himself and Aegisthus' body. So when Clytemnnestra
makesher enûy, she is not awareof what has just transpired,
i.e., she does not know that Aegisthus has iust been killed.
And her entry is very beautiful and solemn,for she is riding in
a royal chariot surroundedby the most beautiful of the captive
maidens of Tioy, all of whom are now her slaves.And Electra,
who is there when her mother arrives, also behaveslike a slave
in order to hide the fact that rhe moment of revenge for her
father's death is ar hand. She is also there to insult
Clytemnestra, and to remind her of her crime. This dramatic
scenegives way to a confrontation between the two. A discus-
sion begins, and we have two parallel speeches,both equally
long (forty lines), the firsr one by Clltemnestra, and the second
by Electra.
 [,llichelFoucaull
Clytemnestra'sspeechbegins with the words "Àé(or ôé"
"I will speak"U. 1013].And sheproceedsto tell the truth) con-
fessing that she killed Agamemnon as a punishment for the
sacrificial death of her daughter, Iphigeneia. Following this
speech,Electra replies, beginning with the symmetrical for-
mulation "Àé1ncrp'6iv"-<(1[g1,I will speak"U. 1060].In spite
of this symmetry, however, there is a very clear difference
betweenthe two. For at the end of her speech,Clytemnestra
addressesElectra directly and says to her, "Use your panhesia
to prove that I was wrong to kill your father":
CLYTEMNESTRA: ...I killed him. I took the only way
open to me-turned for help to his enemies.\Well,what
could I do? None of your father's friends would have
helpedme murder him. So if you'reanxiousto refuteme,
do it now; speak freely-$gV-ti-0eçnappno[g]j_plovq youJ
fa.l.l.gl''deaîË-iîî il Jl fied.''
And, after the Chorus speaks,Electra replies,"Do not forget
your latest words, mother. You gaveme parrhesiatowards you":
ELECTRA: Mother, remember what you said just now.
You promisedthat I might statemy opinion freely with-
out fear fôrôoôocrnpèç oé por ncrppqorcrv].r('
And Clytemnestra answers: "I said so, daughter, and
I meant it" [.1057]. But Electra is still wary and cautious,for
shewonderswhether her mother will listen to her only to hurt
her afterwards:
19. Euripides, Electra. Trans. Philip Vellacott, lines 1046-1050.
20.rbid..1055-1056.
t E A R L E S SS P E E C H
ELECTRA: Do you mean you'll listen first, and get your
own back afterwards?
CLYTEMNESTRA: No, nol you're free to say what your
heart wants to say.
ELECTRA: I'll sayit, then. This is where I'll begin...2r
And Electra proceedsto speakopenly,blaming her mother
for what she has done.
There is another asymmetricalaspectbetweenthesetwo
discourses which concerns the difference in status of the
two speakers.For Clytemnestra is the queen, and does not use
or require panhesia to plead for her own defense in killing
Agamemnon. But Electra-who is in the situation of a slave,
who plays the role of a slavein this scene,who can no longer
live in her father's house under her father's protection, and
who addressesher mother just as a servantwould addressthe
queen*Electra needs the right of pathesia.
And so another parrhesiasticcontract is drawn between
Clytemnestraand Electra: Clytemnestrapromisesshe will not
punish Electra for her franknessjust asPentheuspromisedhis
messenger in The Bacchae. But in Electra, the parrhesiastic
contract is subverted. It is not subverted by Clytemnestra
(who, as the queen,still has the power to punish Electra); it is
subverted by Electra herself. Electra asks her mother to
promise her that shewill not be punishedfor speakingfrankly,
and Clytemnestramakessuch a promisewithout knowing that
she,Clytemnestraherself,will be punishedfor her confession.
For, a few minutes later, she is subsequentlykilled by her chil-
dren, Orestes and Electra. Thus the parrhesiastic contract is
subverted: the one who was granted the privilege of panhesia
21.Ibid..lines1058-1060.
 MichelFoucault
is not harmed, but the one who granted the right of punhesia
is-and by the very person who, in the inferior position, was
asking f.orpanhesia.The parrhesiasticcontractbecomesa sub-
versive trap for Clltemnestra.
lor [c.4r8-4r7B.C.]
'We
turn now to lon, a parrhesiastic play.
The mythological framework of the play involves the leg-
endary founding of Athens. According to Attic myth,
Erectheuswas the first king of Athens-born a son of Earth
and returning to Earth in death. Erectheus thus personifies
that of which the Athenians were so proud, viz., their
autochthony: that they literally were sprung from Athenian
soil.22 In 418 B.C.,about the time when this play was written,
such mythological reference had political meaning. For
Euripides wanted to remind his audiencethat the Athenians
are native to Athenian soil; but through the character of
Xuthus (husband to Erectheus' daughter Creusa,and a for-
eigner to Athens since he comesfrom Phthia), Euripides also
wantedto indicate to his audiencethat the Athenians are relat-
ed, through this marriage,to the peopleof the Peloponese, and
specificallyto Achaia-named from one of the sonsof Xuthus
and Creusa: Achaeus. For Euripides' account of the pan-
Hellenic nature of Athenian genealogymakes Ion the son of
Apollo and Creusa (daughter to Athens' ancient king
Erectheus).Creusa later marries Xuthus (who was an ally of
the Athenians in their war against the Euboeans[1. 58-62]).
22. Cf. Pfato, Menexenus2J7b.
F E A R L E S SS P E E c H
ïwo sons are born from this marriage: Dorus and Achaeus[1.
15901.Ion was said to be the founder of the Ionic people;
Dorus, the founder of the Dorians; and Achaeus,the founder
ofthe Achaeans.Thus all ofthe ancestorsofthe Greek raceare
depictedas descendedfrom the royal houseofAthens.2l
Euripides' referenceto Creusa'srelationship with Apollo,
as well as his placemenrof the play's setting at the Tèmple of
Apollo at Delphi, is meant to exhibit the close relationship
between Athens and Phoebus Apollo-the pan-Hellenic god
of the Delphic sanctuary.For at the historical moment of the
play's production in ancient Greece, Athens was rrying to
forge a pan-Hellenic coalition against Sparta.Rivalry existed
between Athens and Delphi since the Delphic priesrs were
primarily on the side of rhe Spartans.Bur, to pur Arhens in the
favorableposition of leader of the Hellenic world, Euripides
I wished to emphasize the relations of mutual parenthood
t' betweenthe two cities. These my'thologicalgenealogies,then,
i are meant, in part, to fustify Athens' imperialistic politics
r1 towards other Greek cities at a time when Athenian leaders
still thought an Athenian Empire was possible.
I shall not focus on the political and mythological aspects
of the play, but on the theme of the shift of the placeof rrurh's
disclosurefrom Delphi to Athens. As you know, the oracle at
Delphi was supposedto be the place in Greecewhere human
beings were told the truth by the gods through the urterances
of the Pythia. But in this play,we seea very explicir shift from
23. On the political meaning of lon, A. S. Owen writes: "Its obiect is to
give reasons for the Athenian Empire to hold together and to make the
Dorian states of the Peloponese feel that the distant past might justify
them in alliance with Athens" ["Introduction" to Euripides,Ion. Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1957; xxiil.
 MichelFoucault
the oracular truth at Delphi to Athens: Athens becomesthe
place where truth now appears.And, as a part of this shift,
truth is no longer disclosedby the gods to human beings (as at
Delphi), but is disclosedto human beings ày human beings
through Athenian panhesia.
Euripides'Ion is a play praising Athenian autochtony,and
affirming Athens'blood-affinity with most other Greekstatesl
but it is primarily a story of the movement of truth-telling
from Delphi to Athens, from PhoebusApollo to the Athenian
citizen.And that is the reasonwhy I think the play is the story
of panhesia:the decisive Greek parrhesiastic play.
Now I would like to give the following schematicaperçu
of the play:
SILENCE TRUTH DECEPTION
Delphi Athens (Athene) Foreign Countries
Apollo Erectheus Xuthus
Creusa
Ion
\ùûeshall see that Apollo keeps silent throughout the
dramal that Xuthus is deceivedby the god, but is alsoa deceiv-
er. And we shall also seehow Creusaand Ion both speakthe
truth againstApollo's silence,for only they are connectedto
the Athenian earth which endows them with panhesia.
Hermes'Prologue
I would first like to briefly recount the events,given in Hermes'
prologue,which have taken placebefore the play begins.
After the death of Erectheus' other children (Cecrops,
Orithyia, and Procris), Creusais the only surviving offspring
of the Athenian dynasty.One day,as a young girl, while pick-
F e l n L e s sS p e e c x
ing yellow flowers by the Long Rocks,Apollo rapesor seduces
her [@potç l.l0].
ls it a rape or a seducrion? For the Greeks, the difference
is not as crucial as it is for us. Clearly,when someonerapes
a woman) a girl, or a boy, he usesphysical violence; whereas
when someoneseducesanother, he useswords, his ability to
speak,his superior status, and so on. For the Greeks, using
one's psychological,social, or intellectual abilities to seduce
another person is not so different from using physical vio-
lence. Indeed, from the perspectiveof the law, seduction was
considered more criminal than rape. For when someoneis
raped, it is against his or her will; but when someone is
seduced, then that constitutes the proof that at a specific
moment, the seducedindividual chosero be unfaithful to his
or her wife or husband, or parents,or family. Seduction was
consideredmore of an attackagainsta spouse'spower,or a fam-
ily's power,since the one who was seducedchoseto act against
the wishesof his or her spouse,parents,or family.2a
In any case,Creusa is raped or seducedby Apollo, and
shebecamespregnant.And when sheis about to give birth, she
returns to the place where she was led by Apollo, viz., a cave
beneath Athens' acropolis-beneath the Mount of Pallas
under the centerof the Athenian city. And here she hides her-
self until, all alone, she gives birth to a son [1. 949]. Bur
becauseshe does not want her father, Erectheus,to find out
about the child (for she was ashamedof what happened),she
24. K. J. Dover writes: "To seduce a woman of citizen status was more
culpable than to rape her, not only because rape was presumed to be
unpremeditated but becauseseduction involved the capture of her affec-
tion and loyalty; it was the degree ofoffense against the man to whom she
belonged, not her own feelings, which mattered" ["Classical Greek
Attitudes to Sexual Behavior." 621.
 MichelFoucault
exposesit, leaving the child to wild beasts.Apollo then sends
his brother, Hermes,to bring the child, his cradleand clothes,
to the temple at Delphi. And the boy is raised as a servantof
the god in the sanctuary;and he is regardedas a foundling.
For no one in Delphi (exceptApollo himself) knows who he is
or where he comesfrom; and Ion himself doesnot know. Ion
thus appears,on the schemaI outlined, betweenDelphi and
Athens, Apollo and Creusa.For he is the son of Apollo and
Creusa,and was born in Athens but lives his life in Delphi'
In Athens, Creusadoesnot know whateverbecameofher
child; and she wonders whether it is dead or alive. Later she
marries Xuthus, a foreigner whose alien presenceimmensely
complicatesthe continuity of Athenian autochtony-which is
why it is so important for Creusato have an heir with Xuthus'
However, after their marriage, Xuthus and Creusa are unable
to haveany children. At the end of the play,the birth of Dorus
and Achaeus are promised to them by Apollo; but at the
beginning of the play they remain childless,eventhough they
desparatelyneedchildren to endow Athens with dynasticcon-
tinuity. And so both of them come to Delphi to ask Apollo if
they shall ever have children. And so the play begins.
Apollo's Silence
But, of course, Creusa and Xuthus do not have exactly the
samequestion to ask the god Apollo. Xuthus'question is very
clear and simple: "I've never had children. Shall I have any
with Creusa?" Creusa, however, has another question to ask.
She must know whether she will ever have children with
Xuthus. But she also wishesto ask: "\Ûith you, Apollo' I had
a child. And I need to know now whether he is still living
or not. \Ûhat, Apollo, has becomeofour son?"
Apollo's temple, the oracleat Delphi, was the placewhere
I r ARLEssSpEEcH
the truth was told by the godsto any mortals who cameto con-
sult it. Both Xuthus and Creusaarrive together in front of the
temple door and, of course,the first person they meet is Ion-
Apollo's servantand son to Creusa.But naturally Creusadoes
not recognize her son, nor does Ion recognize his mother.
They are strângersto one another,just as Oedipus and Jocasta
were initially in Sophocles'Oedipusthe King.
Remember that Oedipus was also saved from death in
spite of the will of his mother. And he, roo, was unable to rec-
ognizehis real father and mother.The structure of lozt plot is
somewhatsimilar ro the Oedipus-story.But the dynamics of
truth in the two plays are exactly reversed.For in Oedipusthe
Kizg PhoebusApollo speaksthe truth from the very begin-
ning, truthfully foretelling what will happen. And human
beingsare the oneswho continually hide from or avoid seeing
the truth, trying to escapethe destiny foretold by the god. But
in the end, through the signs Apollo has given them, Oedipus
and Jocastadiscover the truth in spite of themselves.In the
present play, human beings are trying to discover the truth:
Ion wants to know who he is and where he comesfroml Creusa
wants to know the fate of her son. Yet it is Apollo who volun-
tarily concealsthe truth. The Oedipal problem of truth is "
resolvedby showing how mortals, in spite of their own blind-
ness,will seethe light of truth which is spokenby the god, and
which they do not wish to see.TheIonic problem of truth is *
resolvedby showing how human beings,in spite of the silence
of Apollo, will discover the truth they are so eager to know.
The theme of god's silence prevails throughout lon. It
appearsat the beginning of the tragedywhen Creusaencoun-
ters Ion. Creusais still ashamedof what happenedto her, so
she speaksto Ion as if she had come to consult the oracle for
her "friend." Shethen tells him part of her own story,attribut-
 MichelFoucault
ing ir to her allegedfriend, and asks him whether he thinks
Apollo will give her friend an answer to her questions. As a
good servantto the god, Ion tells her that Apollo will not give
an answer.For if he hasdone what Creusa'sfriend claims. then
he will be too ashamed:
ION: ...is Apollo to revealwhat he intendsshouldremain
a mystery ?
CREUSA: Surely his oracle is open for every Greek to
question?
ION: No. His honoris involved;you must respecthis lèel-
ings.
CREUSA: What of his victim's feelines?What doesthis
involve for her?
ION: There is no one who will ask this questionfor you.
Supposeit were proved in Apollo's own temple that he
had behavedso badly,he would be justified in making
your interpretersufferfor it. My lady,let the matter drop.
\7e must not accuseApollo in his own court.That is what
our folly would amount to, if we try to force a reluctant
god to speak,to give signs in sacrificeor the flight of
birds. Thoseendswe pursueagainstthe gods'will can do
us little goodwhen we gain them...25
So at the very beginning of the play, Ion tells why Apollo
will not tell the truth. And, in fact, he himself never answers
Creusa'squestions.This is a hiding-god.
rùflhatis evenmore signilicant and striking is what occurs
at the end of the play when everything has been said by the
25.Euripides,1oz.
Tians.Philip Velacott,lines 365-378.
F e a n r r s sS p t e c n
various charactersof the play, and the truth is known to every-
one. For everyonethen waits for Apollo's appearance-whose
presencewasnor visible throughout the entire play (in spite of
the fact that he is a main character in the dramatic events that
unfold). It was traditional in ancient Greek tragedyfor the god
who constituted the main divine figure to appearlast. yet, at
the end of the play Apollo-the shining god-does nor appear.
Instead, Athene arrives to convey his message.And she
appearsabove the roof of the Delphic remple, for the temple
doors are not open. Explaining why she has come,she says:
ATHENE: ...I am your friend here as in Athens,the city
whosename I bear-I am Athene! I have come in haste
from Apollo. He thought it right nor to appear ro you
himself,lest there be reproachesopenly uttered for what
is past;so he sendsme with this messageto you. Ion, this
is your mother,and Apollo is your father.Xuthus did not
I begetyou, but Apollo gaveyou to him so that you might
I becomethe recognizedheir of an illustrioushouse.\ù7hen
Apollo's purpose in this matter was disclosedhe con-
trived a way to saveeachofyou from deathat eachother's
hands.His intenrionhas beento keep the truth secretfor
a while, and then in Athens to reveal Creusa as vour
mother,and you as her son by Apollo...26
So even at this final moment, when everything has come
to lighr, Apollo does nor dare to appearand speakthe truth.
He hides, while Athene speaksinstead. \(/e must remember
that Apollo is the propheric god in charge of speaking the
26.Ibid.,lines 155,1-1568
 MichelFoucault
truth to mortals. Yet he is unable to play this role becausehe
is ashamedof his guilt. Here, in .Ioz, silence and guilt are
linked on the side of the god Apollo. ln Oedipusthe King,
silenceand guilt are linked on the side of mortals. The main
motif of lon concerns the human fight for truth against god's
silence: human beings must manage,by themselves,to dis-
cover and to tell the truth. Apollo doesnot speakthe truth, he
does not reveal what he knows perfectly well to be the case,
he deceivesmortals by his silenceor tells pure lies, he is not
courageousenough to speak himselt and he useshis power,
his freedom,and his superiority to cover up what he has done.
Apollo is the anti-panhesi.astes.
In this struggle againstthe god's silence,Ion and Creusa
are the two maior parrhesiasticfigures. But they do not play
the role of thepanhesiastesin the sameway. For as a male born
ofAthenian earth,Ion hasthe right to usepanhesia. Creusa,on
the other hand, plays the parrhesiasticrole as a woman who
confesses her thoughts.I would like now to examinethesetwo
parrhesiasticroles, noting the nature oftheir difference.
lon's Role
First, Ion. Ion's parrhesiasticrole is evident in the very long
scenewhich takes place betweenIon and Xuthus early on in
the play. Vhen Xuthus and Creusacme to consult the oracle,
Xuthus enters the sanctuaryfirst since he is the husband and
the man. He asks Apollo his question, and the god tells him
that the first person he meetswhen he comesout of the tem-
ple will be his son. And, of course,the first one he meetsis Ion
since,as Apollo's servant,he is alwaysat the door of the tem-
ple. Here we have to pay attention to the Greek expression,
which is not literally translated in either the French or
English editions. The Greek words are:
I rnnr:ss SpeecH
ncrîô'bpov neQurêvat.
The use of the word neQurcévatindicatesthat Ion is said to be
Xuthus' son "by nature":
ION: What wasApollo's oracle?
XUTHUS: He said,whoevermet me as I cameout of the
temple-
ION: \Thoever met you-yes: what about him?
XUTHUS: -is my son! [æcxîô'èpovneQurcévcn].
ION: Your son by birth, or merely by gift?
XUTHUS: A gift, yes;but mine by birth too [ôôpov, ôvta
ô'è( bPoû1.:z
So you see that Apollo does not give an obscure and
ambiguousoracularpronouncementas he was wont to do with
indiscretequestioners.The god's answeris a pure lie. For Ion
is nor Xuthus' son "by nature" or "by birth." Apollo is not an
ambiguoustruth-teller in this case.He is a liar. And Xuthus,
deceivedby Apollo, candidly believesthat Ion-the first per-
son he meets-is really,by nature, his own son.
\7hat follows is the first main parrhesiasticsceneof the
play,which can be divided into three parts.
The first part Ul. 517-5271concerns the misunderstanding
betweenIon and Xuthus. Xuthus leavesthe temple, seeslon,
and-in light of Apolls's sns\rys1-believesthat he is his son.
Full of cheer,he goesto him and wants to kiss him [gi]"r1pcr,
l. 519]. Ion-who doesnot know who Xuthus is, and doesnot
know why he wants to kiss him-misunderstands Xuthus'
behavior and thinks that Xuthus wanrs to have sex with him
27.Ibid..lines533-536.
 lvlichelFoucaull
(as any young Greek boy would if a man tried to kiss him).
Most of the commentators,if they are even willing to recog-
nize the sexualinterpretation Ion attributes to Xuthus'behav-
ior, say that this is a "comic scene"-which sometimesoccurs
in Euripides' tragedies.In any case,Ion saysto Xuthus: "If
you continue harassingme, I'll shoot an arrow in your chest."
This is similar to Oedipusthe King, where Oedipus does not
know that Laius, King of Thebes, is his father. And he also
misunderstandsthe nature of his encounterwith him; a quar-
rel ensues,and Laius is killed by Oedipus.But in lon there is
this reversal:Xuthus, King of Athens, doesnot know that lon
is zot his son, and Ion doesnot know that Xuthus thinks that
he is lon's father.So as a consequence of Apollo's lies we are in
a world of deception.
The secondpart of this scene[ll. 528-562] concernsthe
mistrustof Ion towardsXuthus. Xuthus tells Ion: "Tàke it easyl
if I want to kiss you, it is becauseI am your father." But rather
than rejoicing at the discoveryof knowing who his father is,
Ion's first question to Xuthus is: "'Who, then, is my mother?"
U. 539].For some unknown reason,Ion's principal concern is
the knowledge of his mother's identity. But then he asks
Xuthus: "How can I be your son?" And Xuthus replies: "I
don't know how; I refer you to the god Apollo for what he has
said" [. 543: oirx d"ô', crvaqêp<oô' erç tôv 0eôv]. Ion then
utters a very interesting line which has been completely mis-
translatedin the French version.The Greek is [. 544]:
Qêpel,ôyov ay6pee' crÀÀolv.
The French edition translates as: "Come, let's speak
about something else." A more accuraterendition might be:
"Let us try another kind of discourse."So in answerto Ion's
F Ê A R L E s SS P E E c H
question of how he could be his son, Xuthus replies that he
doesnot know, but was told as much by Apollo. And lon tells
him, in effect, then let's try another kind of discoursemore
capableof telling the truth:
ION: How could I be yours?
XUTHUS: Apollo, not l, has the answer.
ION (aftera pause):Let us try anothertack [. 544].
XUTHUS: Yes,that will help us more.28
Abandoning the oracular formulation of the god, Xuthus
and Ion take up an inquiry involving the exchangeof ques-
tions and answers.As the inquirer, Ion questionsXuthus-his
allegedfather-to try to discoverwith whom, when, and how
it was possiblefor him to have a child such that lon might be
his son. And Xuthus answershim: "Well, I think I had sex
with a Delphian girl." \ùûhen?"Before I was married to
Creusa."Ithere? "Maybe in Delphi." How? "One day when I
was drunk while celebratingthe Dionysian torch feast." And
of course,as an explanationof lon's birth, this entire train of
thought is pure baloney; but they take this inquisitive method
seriously,and try, as best they can, to discover the truth by
their own means-led as they are by Apollo's lies. Following
this inquiry, Ion rather reluctantly and unenthusiastically
accepts Xuthus' hypothesis: he considers himself to be
Xuthus' son. The third part of the parrhesiasticscenebetween
Xuthus and Ion concernslorJ s politicaldestiny,and his poten-
tial political misfortunesif he arrives in Athens as the son and
heir of Xuthus [ll. 563-675].For after persuadingIon that he
28. Euripides,lon. Tians. Ronald Frederick Villetts, lines542-544.
 M i c h e lF o u c a u l t
is his son, Xuthus promises to bring Ion back to Athens
where,as the son of a king, he would be rich and powerful. But
Ion is not very enthusiasticabout this prospect;for he knows
that he would be coming to Athens asthe son of Xuthus (a for-
eigner to Athenian earth),and with an unknown mother. And
accordingto Athenian legislation,one cannot be a regular cit-
izen in Athens if one is not the offspring of parents both of
whom wereborn in Athens. So Ion tells Xuthus that he would
be considereda foreigner and a bastard,i.e., a nobody. This
anxiety leads to a long development which at hrst glance
seemsto be a digression,but which presentsEuripides' criti-
cal portrayal of Athenian political life: both in a democracy
and concerningthe political life of a monarch.
Ion explains that in a democracythere are three categories
of citizens [1. 596-603]: (l) those who are called, using the
political vocabulary of the time, the aô6vcrtot: those Athenian
citizens who have neither power nor wealth, and who hate all
who are superior to them; (2) those who are lpqotoi
ôuvdpevot: good Athenians who are capable of exercising
power, but becausethey are wise [ooQoi] they keep silent
toryrrror]and do not worry about the political affairs of the city
[roù oæe6ôouotuetç tù np<inrcrta]; and finally (3) those rep-
utable men who are powerful, and use their discourseand rea-
son to participatein public political life. Envisioning the reac-
tions of these three groups to his appearancein Athens as a
foreigner and a bastard, Ion says that the first group) the
crôiivator, will hate him; the second group, the wise, will
laugh at the young man who wishes to be regardedas one of
the First Citizens of Athens; and the last group, the politi-
cians,will be jealousof their new competitor and will try to get
rid of him. So coming to a democraticAthens is not a cheerful
prospectfor lon.
F E A R L E s sS P E E c H
Following this portrayal of democratic life, Ion speaksof
the negativeaspectsof a family life with a step-morherwho,
herself childless,would not accepthis presenceas heir to the
Athenian throne Ul. 608-6201. But then lon returns to the
political picture, giving his portrayal of the life of a monarch:
ION: ...4s for being a king, ir is overrared.Royalty con-
cealsa life of torment behind a pleasantfacade.To live in
hourly fear, looking over your shoulder for the assassin-
is that paradise?Is it evengood fortune?Give me the hap-
pinessof a plain man, not the life of a king, who loves to
fill his court with criminals, and hates honest men for
fear of death.You may tell me rhe pleasureof being rich
outweighseverything.Bur to live surrounded by scandal,
holding on to your money with both hands, beset by
worry-has no appeal for me.ze
These two descriptionsof Athenian democrariclife and
the life of a monarch seemquite out of place in this scene,for
Ion's problem is to discoverwho his mother is so as to arrive
'We
in Athens without shameor anxiety. must find a reasonfor
the inclusion of thesetwo porrrayals.The play continues and
Xuthus tells Ion not to worry about his life in Athens, and for
the time being proposes that lon pretend to be a visiting
houseguestand not disclosethe "fact" that he is Xuthus' son.
Later on, when a suitable time arrives, Xuthus proposes
to make Ion his inheritor; but for now, nothing will be said to
Creusa.Ion would like to come to Athens as the real successor
to the seconddynastic family of Erectheus,but what Xuthus
29Euripides, 'frans.
/on. PhilipVellacott,
lines621-632.
 l \ i l i c h eFl o u c a u l l
proposes-for him to pretend to be a visitor to the city-does
not address Ion's real concerns. So the scene seems crazy,
makes no sense.Nonetheless,Ion acceptsXuthus' proposal
but claims that without knowine who his morher is. life will
be impossible:
ION: Yes,I will go. But one pieceof good luck eludesme
still: unlessI find my mother,my life is worthless.ro
rù(rhyis it impossible for Ion to live without finding his
mother?He continues:
ION: ...If I may do so, I pray my mother is Athenian,so
that through her I may have rights of speech[æopprlo:to].
For when a strângercomesinto the city of pure blood,
t h o u g hi n n a m e a c i t i z e n ,h i s m o u t h r e m a i n sa s l a v e h
:e
has no right of speech[ncrpplota].r'
So you see,Ion needsto know who his mother is so as to deter-
mine whether she is descendedfrom the Athenian earth; for
only thus will he be endowedwith panhesia.And he explains
that someonewho comesto Athens as a foreigner-even if he
is literally and legally considereda citizen-still cannot enjoy
parhesia.'What, then, does the seemingly digressivecritical
portrayâlsof democraticand monarchic life mean, culminat-
ing as they do in this final referenceto parrhesiajust when Ion
acceptsXuthus' offer to return with him to Athens-especial-
ly given the rather obscureterms Xuthus proposes?
30. Euripides,1oz. Tians. Ronald Frederick Willetts, lines 668-670.
31. Ibtd., lines 67O-675.
F E A R L E s sS P E E c H
The digressivecritical portrayals Ion gives of democracy
and monarchy (or tyranny) are easy to recognize as typical
instancesof parrhesiasticdiscourse.For you can find almost
exactly the same sorts of criticisms later on coming from
Socrates'mouth in the works of either Plato or Xenophon.
Similar critiques are given later by Isocrates.So the critical
depiction of democratic and monarchic life as presentedby
Ion is part of the constitutional characterof the parrhesiastic
individual in Athenian political life at the end of the Fifth
and the beginning of the Fourth Centuries.Ion is iust such
a paffhesiastes,i.e., the sort of individual who is so valuable
to democracyor monarchy since he is courageousenough to
explain either to the dertosor to the king just what the short-
comings of their life really are. Ion is a parrhesiasticindivid-
ual and shows himself to be such both in these small digres-
sive political critiques, as well as afterwardswhen he states
that he needs to know whether his mother is an Athenian
since he needspanhesia. For despite the fact that it is in the
nature of his character to be a panhesiastes,he cannot legally or
institutionally use this natural panhesia with which he is
endowed if his mother is not Athenian. Panhesiais thus not
a right given equally to all Athenian citizens,but only to those
who are especiallyprestigiousthrough their family and their
birth. And Ion appearsas a man who is, by nature, a parrhesi-
astic individual, yet who is, at the sametime, deprived of the
right offree speech.
And why is this parrhesiastic figure deprived of his par-
rhesiastic right? Becausethe god Apollo-the prophetic god
whose duty it is to speakthe truth to mortals-is not coura-
geousenough to disclose lzisown faults and to act as a panhe-
In order for lon to conform to his nature and to play the
.çiasres.
parrhesiasticrole in Athens, somethingmore is neededwhich
 l\.4ichelFoucault
he lacks,but which will be given to him by the other parrhesi-
astic figure in the play, viz., his mother, Creusa.And Creusa
willbe able to tell him the uuth, thus freeing her parrhesiastic
son to rse his naturalpanhesia.
Creusa's Role
Creusa'sparrhesiastic role in the play is quite different from
Ion's; as a woman, Creusa will not useparhesia to speak the
truth about Athenian political life to the king, but rather to
publicly accuseApollo for his misdeeds.
rJ(henCreusais told by the Chorus that Xuthus alone has
beengiven a son by Apollo, she realizesthat not only will she
not find the son she is searchingfor, but also that when she
returns to Athens she will have in her own home a step-son
who is a foreigner to the city, yet who will nonethelesssucceed
Xuthus as king. And for thesetwo reasonssheis infuriated not
only against her husband,but especiallyagainstApollo. For
after being raped by Apollo, and deprived by him of her son,
to learn that now shewill alsonot haveher questionsanswered
while Xuthus receivesa son from the god-this proves to be
too much for her to take. And her bitterness,her despair,and
her anger bursts forth in an accusationmade againstApollo:
she decidesto speakthe truth. Tiuth thus comesto light as an
emotional reaction to the god's iniustice and his lies.
In Sophocles' Oedipus the King, mortals do not accept
Apollo's prophetic utterancessince their truth seemsincredi-
ble; and yet they are led to the truth of the god'swords in spite
of their efforts to escapethe fate that hasbeenforetold by him.
In Euripides'1on,however,mortals are led to the truth in the
faceofthe god's lies or silence,i.e., in spite ofthe fact that they
are deceived by Apollo. As a consequenceof Apollo's lies,
Creusabelieves that Ion is Xuthus' natural son. But in her
F F A R L E S sS P E E C H
emotional reaction to what she thinks is true, she ends up dis_
closing the truth.
Creusa'smain parrhesiastic scene consists of two parts
which differ in their poeric srrucrure and in the type of patrhe_
sia manifesred.The first part takesthe form of a beautiful long
speech-a tirade againstApollo-while the secondpart is in
the form of a stichomythro,a dialogue between Creusa and her
servantconsistingofalternate lines, one after the other.
First, the tirade. Creusaappearsat this moment in front of
the temple stepsaccompaniedby an old man who is a trusted
servantof the family (and who remains silent during Creusa,s
speech).Creusa'stirade against Apollo is that form of panhesia
wheresomeonepublicly accusesanotherof a crime, or of a fault
or of an infustice that has been committed. And this accusa_
tion is an instance of panhesia insofar as the one who is
accusedis more powerful than the one who accuses.For there
is the danger that becauseofthe accusationmade,the accused
may retaliate in some way against his or her accuser.So
Creusa'sparhesia first takes the form of a public reproach or
criticism againsra being to whom she is inferior in power,and
upon whom she is in a relation ofdependence.It is in this vul_
nerablesituation that Creusadecidesto make her accusation:
CREUSA:O my heart,how be silent?yet how can I speak
of that secretlove,strip myselfof all shame?Is one barri-
er left still to preventme?\7hom have I now as my rival
in virtue-/Has not my husbandbecomemy betrayer?I am
cheatedof home, cheatedof children, hopes are gone
which I could not achieve,the hopesof arrangingthings
well by hiding rhe facrs, by hiding the birth which
brought sorrow.No! No! But I swearby the starry abode
of Zeus,by the goddesswho reignson our peaksand by
 l , 4 i c h eFl o u c a u l t
the sacredshore of the lake of Tiitonis, I will no longer
concealit: when I have put away the burden, my heart
will be easier.Tearsfall from my eyes,and my spirit is
sick, evilly plotted againstby men and gods;I will expose
them, ungrateful betrayersof women.
O you who give the seven-tonedlyre a voice which
rings out of the lifeless)rustic horn the lovely sound of
the Muses'hymns, on you, Latona'sson,here in daylight I
will lay blame. You came with hair flashing gold, as I
gatheredinto my cloak flowers ablazewith their golden
light. Clinging to my pale wrists as I cried for my moth-
er's help you led me to bed in a cave,a god and my lover,
with no shame,submitting to the Cyprian'swill. In mis-
ery I bore you a son,whom in fear of my mother I placed
in that bed where you cruelly forced me. Ah! He is lost
now,snatchedas food for birds, my son and yours; O lost!
But you play the lyre, chantingyour paeans.
O hear me, son of Latona, who assignyour prophe-
cies from the golden throne and the temple at the earth's
center,I will proclaim my words in your ears:you are an
evil lover; though you owed no debt to my husband,you
have set a son in his house.But my son' yes and yours,
hard-hearted,is lost, carried away by birds, the clothes
his mother put on him abandoned.Delos hatesyou and
the young laurel which growsby the palm with its deli-
cateleaves,where Latona bore you, a holy child, fruit of
Zeus.32
32.Ibi.d.,lines 859-922.
FraRLEss SPEÊcH
Regarding this tirade, I would like to emphasizethe fol-
lowing three points: (l) As you can see,Creusa'saccusationis
a public malediction against Apollo where, for example, rhe
referencesto Apollo as Latona's(Leto's) son are meant to con-
vey the thought that Apollo was a bastard: the son of Latona
I
I and Zeus. (2) There is also a clear metaphorical opposition
I
drawn between Phoebus Apollo as the god of light with his
.
i, golden brightness,who, at the sametime, draws a young girl
il into the darkness of a cave to rape her and is the son of
Latona-a divinity of the night, and so on. (3) And there is a
contrast drawn betweenthe music of Apollo, with his seven-
chord lyre, and the cries and shouts of Creusa(who cries for
help asApollo's victim, and who alsomust, through her shout-
ing malediction, speakthe truth the god will not utter). For
Creusa delivers her accusationsbefore the Delphic temple
doors-which are closed. The divine voice is silent while
Creusaproclaims the truth herself.
The second part of Creusa'sparrhesiasticscene directly
follows this tirade when her old servantand guardian,who has
heard all that she has said, takes up an interrogative inquiry
which is exactlysymmetricalto the stichomythic dialoguethat
occurred betweenIon and Xuthus. In the sameway, Creusa's
servantasks her to tell him her story while he asks her ques-
tions such as when did theseeventshappen,where, how, and
so on.
Two things âre worthy of note about this exchange.First,
this interrogativeinquiry is the reversalofthe oracular disclo-
sure of truth. Apollo's oracle is usually ambiguous and
obscure,never answersa set ofprecise questionsdirectly, and
cannot proceedas an inquiryl whereasthe method ofquestion
and answerbrings the obscureto light. Secondly,Creusa'spar-
rhesiasticdiscourseis now no longer an accusationdirected
 [/ichel Foucault
towards Apollo, i.e., is no longer the accusationof a woman
towards her rapist; but takes the form of a self-accusation
where she reveals her own faults, weaknesses,misdeeds
(exposingthe child), and so forth. And Creusa confessesrhe
eventsthat transpired in a manner similar to Phaedra'scon-
fessionof love for Hippolytus. For like Phaedra,shealso man-
ifests the samereluctance to say everything, and managesto let
her servant pronounce those aspectsof her story which she
does not want to confess directly-employing a somewhat
indirect confessionaldiscoursewhich is familiar to everyone
from Euripides' Hippolytus or Racine's Phaedra.
In any case,I think that Creusa'struth-telling is what we
could call an instance of pusonal (as opposed to political)
panhesia. Ion's panhesia takes the form of truthful political
criticism, while Creusa'spanhesiatakes the form of a trurhful
accusationagainst another more powerful than she, and as
a confessionofthe truth about herself.
It is the combination of the parrhesiasticfrgures of Ion
and Creusawhich makespossiblethe full disclosureof truth at
the end of the play.For following Creusa'sparrhesiasticscene,
no one except the god knows that the son Creusa had with
Apollo is lon, just as Ion does not know that Creusa is his
mother and that he is not Xuthus' son.Yet to combine the two
parrhesiasticdiscoursesrequires a number of other episodes
which, unfortunately, we have no time now to analyze. For
example,there is the very interesting episodewhere Creusa-
still believing that lon is Xuthus' narural son-rries to kill
Ion; and when Ion discoversthis plot, he tries to kill Creusa-
a peculiarreversalofthe Oedipal situation.
Regardingthe schemawe outlined, however,we can now
see that the series of truths descendedfrom Athens (Erec-
theus-Creusa-Ion)is completeat the end of the play. Xuthus,
F r A R r E s sS p E E c H
also,is deceivedby Apollo to the end, for he returns to Athens
still believing Ion is his narural son. And Apollo never appears
anywherein the play: he conrinually remains silent.
Onesres[4oB8.G.1.,
A final occurrence of the word parthesia can be found in
Euripides' Orestes, a play written, or at leastperformed, in 40g
8.C., just a few yearsbeforeEuripides' death,and at a moment
of political crisis in Athens when there werenumerousdebates
about the democraticregime. This text is interesting because
it is the only passagein Euripides where the word.panhesiais
usedin a peforativesense.The word occurson line 905 and is
translatedhere as "ignorant outspokenness.,'The text in the
play where the word appearsis in the narrative of a messenger
who has come to the royal palaceat Argos to tell Electra what
has happened in the Pelasgian court ar Orestes, trial. For, as
you know from Electra, Orestes and Electra have killed their
mother, Clytemnestra,and thus are on trial for matricide. The
narrative I wish to quote reads as follows:
MESSENGER:...\7hen the full roll of citizenswas pre_
sent,a herald stood up and said "Who wishesto address
the court, to say whether or not Orestesought to die for
matricide?"At this Talthybiusrose,who wasyour father's
colleaguein the victory over Tioy. Always subservientto
those in power, he made an ambiguousspeech,with ful_
some praise of Agamemnon and cold words for vour
33. Third Lecrure: 7 November 1983.

brother, twisting eulogy and censureboth together-lay-
ing down a law uselessto parents;and with every sen-
tence gave ingratiating glances towards Aegisthus'
friends. Heralds are like that-their whtllc race have
learnt to iump to the winning side;their fricnd is anyone
who has power or a governmentoffice. Prince Diomedes
spokeup next. He urged them not to sentencceither you
or your brother to death, but satisfy piety by banishing
you. Someshoutedin approval;othersdisagreed.
Next there stood up a man with a mouth like a run-
ning spring,a giant in impudence,an enrolledcitizen,yet
no Argive; a mere cat's-paw;putting his confidence in
bluster and ignorant outspokenness[æoppqotcr],and still
persuasiveenough to lead his hearersinto trouble. He
said you and Orestesshould be killed with stones;yet, as
he argued for your death, the words he usedwere not his
own, but all prompted by Tyndareos.
Another rose, and spoke against him-one endowed
with little beauty,but a courageousman; the sort not
often found mixing in streetor market-place,a manual
laborer-the sole backboneof the land; shrewd,when he
chose,to come to grips in argument;a man of blameless
p r i n c i p l ea n d i n t e g r i t y .
He said,Orestesson of Agamemnonshouldbe hon-
ored with crowns for daring to avengehis father by taking
a depravedand godlesswoman'slife-one who corrupted
custom; since no man would leave his home, and arm
himself, and march to war, if wives left there in trust
34. Euripides, Oestes. Tians. Philip Vellacott, lines 88't-931 [Lines con-
sidered an interpolation (in parenthesesin the text) omitted].
F r n n r e sS
s precs
could be seducedby stay-at-homes,and brave men cuck-
olded. His words seemedsensibleto honest iudges; and
there were no more speeches.3a
As you can see,the narrative starts with a reference to the
Athenian procedure for criminal trials: when all the citizens
are present, a herald rises and cries "tiç 1pn(er lé1€rv"-
"Who wishesto speak?"[. 885].For that is the Athenian right
of equal speech (isegoria).TZooorators then speak, both of
whom are borrowed from Greek mythology, from the Homeric
world. The first is Tàlthybius, who was one of Agamemnon's
companionsduring the war against the Tioians-speci{ically,
his herald. Talthybius is followed by Diomedes-one of rhe
most famous Greek heroes,known for his unmatched courage,
bravery, skill in battle, physical strength, and eloquence.
The messengercharacterizesTàlthybius as someonewho
is not completelyfree,but dependentupon thosemore power-
ful than he is. The Greek text stares rhat he is "ùæô rdiq
ôuvapévororl 1iyy..."-'<snder the power of the powerful"
("subservientto those in power") [. 889]. There are two orher
plays where Euripides criticizes this type of human being, the
herald. In The lYomenof Tïoy,the very sameTàlthybius appears
after the city of Tioy has been captured by the Greek army to
tell Cassandrathat she is to be the concubineof Agamemnon.
Cassandragives her reply to the herald's news by predicting
that she will bring ruin to her enemies.And, as you know,
Cassandra'sprophecies are always true. Tàlthybius, however,
doesnot believeher predictions. Since,as a herald, he doesnot
know what is true (he is unable to recognize the trurh of
Cassandra's utterances),but merely repeatswhat his master-
Agamemnon-tells him to say, he thinks that Cassandrais
simply mad; for he tells her: "où pp crpticrç é1erçQpévcrç"-
 MichelFoucault
"your mind is not in the right place" ("you're not in your right
mind"). And to this Cassandraanswers:
CASSANDRA: "Servant"l You hear rhis servanr?He,s
a herald.\7hat are heralds,then, but creaturesuniversal-
ly loathed-lackeys and menials to governmentsand
kings?You saymy morher is destinedfor Odysseus'home:
what then of Apollo's oracles,spelt out to me, that she
shall die here?r5
And in fact, Cassandra'smother, Hecuba, dies in Tioy.
In Euripides' ThcSuppliant lVomm, there is also a discussion
between an unnamed herald (who comes from Thebes) and
Theseus (who is nor exactly the king, but the First Citizen of
Athens) p. 399+631.rù(/henthe herald enters he asks,"'u7ho is
the King in Athens?" Theseustells him that he will not be able
to find the Athenian king since there is to bnannosin the city:
THESEUS: ...This stateis not subjectro one man,swill,
but is a free city. The king here is the people,who by year-
ly office govern in turn. rù(/egive no special power to
wealth;the poor man'svoicecommandsequalauthority.16
This sets off an argumentative discussion about which
form of government is best: monarchy or democracy?The
herald praises the monarchic regime, and criticizes democracy
as subject to the whims of the rabble. Theseus' reply is in
praiseof the Athenian democracywhere, becausethe laws are
35.Euripides,ThelVomenof Tioy."hans.
Philip Vellacotr,Lines
424429
36.Euripides,TheSuppliant
lVomen.'kans.
PhilipVellacott,
lines405-408.
FeanrrsS
s prrcn
written down, the poor and rich have equal rights, and where
everyoneis free to speak in the ehklesia:
THESEUS: ...Freedomlives in this formula: .,Who has
good counselwhich he would offer to the city?" He who
desiresto speak wins fame; he who does not is silenr.
\fhere could greaterequalitybe found?37
The freedom to speakis thus synonymouswith democra-
tic equality in Theseus'eyes,which he cites in opposirion ro
the herald-the representative of tyrannic power.
Since freedom residesin the freedom to speak the trurh,
Tàlthybius cannot speakdirectly and frankly ar Oresres'trial
since he is not free, but dependentupon those who are morc
powerful than he is. Consequently,he "speaksambiguously"
[Àé.prv ôr26ôpu0cr], using a discoursewhich meansrwo oppo-
site things at the same time. So we see him praising
Agamemnon(for he was Agamemnon'sherald), but also con-
demning Agamemnon's son Orestes (since he does not
approveof his actions).Fearful of the power of both facrions,
and therefore wishing to please everybody, he speaks rwo-
facedly;but since Aegisthus' friends have come to power,and
are calling for Orestes'death (Aegisthus,you remember from
Electra,was also killed by Orestes),in the end Tàlthybius con-
demns Orestes.
Following this negativemythological characreris a posi-
tive one: Diomedes.Diomedeswas famous as a Greek warrior
both for his courageousexploits and for his noble eloquence:
his skill in speaking, and his wisdom. Unlike Tàlthvbius.
37.Ibid..lines438-442.
 MichelFoucault
Diomedes is independent; he sayswhat he thinks, and pro-
posesa moderatesolution which has no political motivation:
it is not a revengeful retaliation. On religious grounds, "to sat-
isfy piety," he urges that Orestesand Electra be exiled to puri-
fu the country of Clytemnestra'sand Aegisthus'deathsaccord-
ing to the traditional religious punishment for murder. But
despiteDiamedes'moderateand reasonableverdict, his opin-
ion divides the assembly: some agree,others disagree.
\ù7ethen have two other speakerswho present themselves.
Their namesare not given, they do not belong to the mytho-
logical world of Homer, they are not heroeslbut from the pre-
cise description which the reporting messengergives of them,
we can seethat they are two "social types." The first one (who
is symmetrical to Tâlthybius, the bad orator) is the sort of ora-
tor who is so harmful for a democracy.And I think we should
determine carefully his specificcharacteristics.
His first trait is that he has "a mouth like a running
spring"-which translates the Greek word athuroglossos
[cr0ôpo/"orc c oç]. Athuroglossorcomes from yÀôôocr (tongue)
and Oûpa (door); it thus literally refers to someonewho has a
tongue but not a door. Hence it implies someonewho cannot
shut his mouth.
The metaphorof the mouth, teeth, and lips as a door that
is closed when one is silent occursfrequently in ancient Greek
literature. In the Sixth Century 8.C., for example, Theognis
writes in his Elegiesthat there are too many garrulous people:
Too many tongueshave gâteswhich fly apart
Too easily,and care for many things
That don't concernthem. Better to keep bad news
Indoors. and onlv let the sood news out.r8
F r ^ R L E S sS P T E c H
In the Second Century 4.D., in his essay"Concerning
tlkativeness" [flepi côoÀeoXrag],Plutarch also writes that
the teeth are a fence or gate such that "ifthe tongue does not
obey or restrain itself, we may check its incontinence by bit-
ing it till it bleeds."3e
This notion of being athuroglossos,or of being athurostomia
[o0ùpootopia] (one who has a mouth without a door), refers
to someonewho is an endlessbabbler,who cannot keep quiet,
and is prone to say whatever comes to mind. Plutarch com-
pares the talkativenessof such people with the Black Sea-
which has neither doors nor gates to impede the flow of its
watersinto the Mediterraneân:
...thosewho believethat storeroomswithout doors and
purseswithout fasteningsare of no use to their owncrs,
y e t k e e pt h e i r m o u t h sw i t h o u t l o c k o r d o o r ,m a i n t a i n i n g
as perpetualan outflow as the mouth of the Black Sel,
appearto regard speech[À6yoq]as the leastvaluablc of'
all things.They do not, thereflore, meetwith beliel-,rvhich
i s t h e o b j e c to I a l l s p e e c h . a o
As you can see,athuroglossos is characterized by the firl-
lowing two traits: (l) \fhen you have "a mouth like a running
spring," you cannot distinguish those occasionswhen you
should speak from those when you should remain silent; or
that which must be said from that which must remain unsaid;
or the circumstancesand situations where speechis required
from those where one ought to remain silent. Thus Theognis
38. Theognis, Elegies.'kans. Dorothea \7ender, lines 421424.
39. Plutarch, "Concerning Thlkativeness." Tians. W. C. Helmbold, 503c.
40. Ibid.
 MichelFoucault
states that garrulous people are unable to differentiate when
one should give voice to good or bad news, or how to demar-
cate their own from other people's affairs-since they indis-
cretely intervene in the caresofothers. (2) As Plutarch notes,
when you areathuroglossos you have no regard for the value of
logos,for râtional discourse as a means of gaining accessto
truth. Athuroglossos is thus almost synonymous with parrhesia
taken in its pejorative sense,and exactly the opposite of par-
rhesia'spositive sense(sinceit is a sign of wisdom to be able to
use panhesia without falling into the garrulousness of
athuroglossos). One of the problems which the parrhesiastic
charactermust resolve,then, is how to distinguish that which
must be said from that which should be kept silent. For not
everyonecan draw such a distinction, as the following exam-
ple illustrates.
In his treatise "The Education of Children" [flepi nclrôotv
cryffiç1, Plutarch gives an anecdote of Theocritus, a sophist,
as an example of athuroglossos and of the misfortunes incurred
by intemperate speech. The king of the Macedonians,
Antigonus, sent a messengerto Theocritus asking him to
cometo his court to engagein discussion.And it so happened
that the messengerhe sent was his chief cook, Eutropian.
King Antigonus had lost an eye in battle, so he was one-eyed.
Now Theocritus was not pleasedto hear from Eutropian, the
king's cook, that he had to go and visit Antigonus; so he said
to the cook: "I know very well that you want to serveme up
raw to your Cyclops"+t-thus subfectingthe king's disfigure-
ment and Eutropian's profession to ridicule. To which the
cook replied: "Then you shall not keep your head on, but you
41. Plutarch, "The Education ofChildren." Tians. E C. Babbitt, lIc.
F r r n l e s sS p r r c x
shall pay the penalty for this reckless talk fathurostomialand
madnessof yours."a2And when Eutropian reported Theocritus'
remark to the king, he sent and had Theocritus put to death.
As we shall see in the caseof Diogenes, a really fine and
courageousphilosopher can usepanheslatowards a king; how-
ever, in Theocritus' case his frankness is not parrhesia but
athurostomi.asince to joke about a king's disfrgurement or
a cook's profession has no noteworthy philosophical signifi-
cance.Athuroglossos or athurostomia,then, is the first trait of the
third orator in the narration ofOrestes'trial.
His secondtrait is that he is "io1riov Oprioer"-"a giant
in impudence" [. 903]. The word io266todenotessomeone's
strength, usually the physical strength which enablesone to
overcomeothers in competition. So this speakeris strong, but
he is strong "Opd,ott" which meansstrong not becauseof his
reason,or his rhetorical ability to speak,or his ability to pro-
nouncethe truth, but only becausehe is arrogant.He is strong
only by his bold arrogance.
A third characteristic: "an enrolled citizen, yet no
Argive." He is not native to Argos, but comesfrom elsewhere
and has been integrated into the city. The expressionqvayr-
oopévoç [. 904] refers to someone who has been imposed
upon the members of the city as a citizen by force or by dis-
honorablemeans[what gets translatedas "a mere cat's paw"].
His fourth trait is given by the phrase "Oopirpcote
rt'Loùvoç"-*putting his confidence in bluster." He is confi-
dent in thmubos[Oôpôpoç],which refersto the noise made by
a strong voice, by a scream) a clamor, or uproar. \ù7hen,for
instance,in battle, the soldiersscreamin order to bring forth
42.Ibit.
 l\.4
ichel Foucaull
their own courageor to frighten the enemy,the Greeks used
exclamation
the word thorubos.Or the tumuhuous noise of a crowded (an.), F
assemblywhen the people shouted was called thorubos.So the exclamation (fr.)
third orator is not confident in his ability to formulare arricu-
late discourse,but only in his ability to generatean emotional
reaction from his audienceby his strong and loud voice. This
direct relationshipbetweenthe voice and the emotional effect
it produceson the ehklesiais thus opposedto the rational sense
ofarticulate speech.The final characteristicofthe third (neg-
ative) speakeris that he also puts his confidencein "rcrp0et
nu,pprloicr"-"ignorant outspokenness llpanhesiaf." The
phrase "rcrpcrOetlrcrppndrcr,"repeatsthe expressionathuroglos-
sos, but with its political implications. For although this
speakerhas been imposed upon the citizenry, he nonetheless
possesses panhesiaas a formal civic right guaranteedby the
Athenian constitution.\(rhat designateshisparrhesiaaspanhe-
sic in its peforativeor negativesense,however,is that it lacks
mathesis[pdenorq]-learning or wisdom. In order lor panhesia
to have positive political effects,it must now bc linked to a
good education,to intellectual and moral formation, to paideia
or mathesis.Only then will panhesia be more than thorubosor
sheer vocal noise. For when speakersuse panhesla without
mathesis,when they use "rcxtrrcrOet napploicr," the city is led
into terrible situations.
You may recall a similar remark of Plato's,in his Seventh
Letter [336b], concerning the lack of mathesis.There Plato
explainsthat Dion was not able to succeedwith his enterprise
in Sicily (viz., to realizein Dionysius both a ruler of a grear
city and a philosopher devoted to reasonand jusrice) for two
reasons.The first is that some daimonor evil spirit may have
been jealous and wanted vengence. And secondly, Plato
explains that ignorance[opcr0ia] broke our in Sicily. And of
FEARLESS
SpÉEcH
cpafia Plato saysthat it is "the soil in which all manner of
evil to all men takes rool and flourishes and later produces
a fruit most bitter for thosewho sowedit."43
The characteristics,then, of the third speaker-a cerrain
social type who employspanhesiain its peiorativesense-are
these:he is violent, passionate,a foreigner to the city, lacking
in mathesis,and therefore dangerous.
And now we come to the fourth and final speaker at
Orestes'trial. He is analogousto Diomedes: what Diomedes
was in the Homeric world, this last orator is in the political
world of Argos. An exemplificationof the positivepanhesiastes
as a "social type," he has the following traits.
The trst is that he is "one endowedwith little beauty,but
a courageousman" [popQfrpèv oùr eu<rlnôç avôpéioç ô'crv(pl
[. 918]. Unlike a woman, he is not fair to look at, but a "manly
man," i.e., a courageousman. Euripides is playing on the ety-
mology of the word crvôpeio (manliness or courage),which
comesfrom the word cxv(p.'Avrlp means "man" (understood
âsthe oppositeof"woman" and not as the oppositeof"beast").
For the Greeks,courageis a virile quality which women were
said not to possess.
Secondly,he is "the sort not often found mixing in street
or marketplace[crpp<i]" [.919]. So this representativeof the
positive use of.panhesrais not the sort of professional politi-
cian who spends most of his time in the agora-the place
where the people, the assembly,met for political discussion
and debate.Nor is he one of those poor personswho, without
any other means to live bg would come ro the dgora in order
to receivethe sums of money given to those taking part in the
(YIl). Tians.L. A. Post,336b.
43.Plato,Leners Cf.Laws,688c.
 [ , 4 i c h eFl o u c a u l t
ekklesia.He takes part in the assemblyonly to participate in
important decisionsat critical moments. He does not live off
ofpolitics for politics' sake.
Thirdly, he is an "autourgos" [crutoup^pç]-'(3 1nx1s3l
laborer" [. 920]. The word autourgosrefers to someone who
works his own land. The word denotesa specific social cate-
gory-neither the great landowner nor the peasanr,but the
landowner who lives and works with his own hands on his
own estate, occasionally with the help of a few servanrs or
slaves.Such landowners-who spent most of their time work-
ing the fields and supervisingthe work of their servants-were
highly praised by Xenophon in his Oeconomicus.aa \ù7hatis
most interesting in Orestesis that Euripides emphasizesthe
political competenceof such landownersby mentioning three
aspectsof their character.
The {irst is that they are alwayswilling to march ro war
and fight for the city, which they do better than anyone else.
Ofcourse, Euripides doesnot give any rational explanationof
why this should be so; but if we refer to Xenophon's
Oeconomicus where the autourgosis depicted,there are a num-
ber of reasons given.a5A major explanation is that the
landownerwho works his own land is, naturally, very interest-
ed in the defenseand protection ofthe lands ofthe counrry-
unlike the shopkeepersand the people living in the city who
do not own their own land, and hencedo not care as much if
the enemy pillages the countryside. But those who work as
farmers simply cannot tolerate the thought that the enemy
might ravagethe farms, burn the crops, kill the flocks and
herds, and so onl and hence they make good fighters.
44. Cf. Xenophon,Oeconomicus.Tians. Carnes Lord, Chapter V.
45. Ibid., Chapter XXI.
F E A R L E s sS P E E c H
Secondly, rhe autourgosis able "to come to grips in argu-
ment" [. 921), i.e., is able to use languageto propose good
advice for the city. As Xenophon explains, such landowners
are used to giving orders to their servants, and making deci-
sions about what must be done in various circumstances.So
not only are they good soldiers,they also make good leaders.
Hence when they do speak to the ehklesia,rhey do not use t o-
rubos;but what they say is important, reasonable,and consti-
tutes good advice.
In addition, the last orator is a man of moral integrity:
"a man of blamelessprinciple and integrity" |. 9221.
A final point about the autourgosis this: whereasthe pre-
vious speakerwanted Electra and Orestesto be put to death by
stoning, not only doesthis landowner call for Orestes'acquit-
tal, he believesOrestesshould be "honored with crowns" for
what he has done. To understand the signifrcance of the
autourgos' statement,we need to realizethat what is at issuein
Orestes'trial for the Athenian audience-living in the midst
of the Peloponnesian\(ar-is the questionof war or peace:will
the decisionconcerningOrestesbe an aggressiveone that will
institute the continuation of hostilities, as in war, or will the
decisioninstitute peace?The autourgos'proposal ofan acquit-
tal symbolizesthe will for peace.But he alsostatesthat Orestes
should be crowned for killing Clytemnestra "since no man
would leavehis home, and arm himself, and march to war, if
wives left there in trust could be seducedby stay-at-homes,
and brave men cuckolded" p. 925-9291.We must remember
that Agamemnon was murdered by Aegisthus iust after he
returned home from the Tiofan \ù7ar;for while he was fighting
the enemy away from home, Clytemnestrawas living in adul-
tery with Aegisthus.
And now we can see the precise historical and political
 MichelFoucault
context for this scene.The year ofthe play's production is 408
B.C.,a time when rhe competition betweenAthens and Sparta
in the PeloponnesianWar was still very sharp. The two cities
have been Iighting now for rwenty-three long years,with short
intermittent periods of truce. Athens in 408 8.C., following
several bitter and ruinous defeatsin 413, had recovered some
of its naval power.But on land the situation was not good,and
Athens was vulnerable to Spartan invasion. Nonetheless,
Sparta made severaloffers of peaceto Athens, so that the issue
of continuing the war or making peacewas vehemently dis-
cussed.
In Athens the democratic party was in favor of war for
economic reasonswhich are quite clear; for the party was gen-
erally supported by merchants, shop-keepers,businessmen,
and those who were interestedin the imperialistic expansion
of Athens. The conservative aristocratic party was in favor of
peacesince they gained their support from the landowners and
others who wanteda peacefulco-existencewith Spana,aswell
as an Athenian constitution which was closer, in some
respects,to the spartan constitution.
The leader of the democratic party was Cleophon-who
was not native to Athens, but a foreigner who registered as
a citizen. A skitlful and influential speaker,he was infamously
portrayed in his life by his own conremporaries(for example,
it was said he was not courageousenough to becamea soldier,
that he apparentlyplayed the passiverole in his sexual rela-
tions with other men, and so on). So you see that all of the
characteristics of the third orator, the negative panhesiastes,
can be attributed to Cleophon.
The leader of the conservativeparty was Theramenes-
who wanted to return to a Sixth-Century Athenian constitu-
tion that would institute a moderateoligarchy. Following his
Franrrss Sprecs
proposal,the main civil and political rights would have been
reserved for the landowners. The traits of rhe autourgos,the
p ositive p arrhesiastes,thus correspond to Theramenes.aT
So one ofthe issuesclearly presentin Orestes'trial is the
question that was then being debatedby the democratic and
conservativeparties about whether Athens should continue
the war with Sparta,or opt for peace.
Pnoglei,tanzrNG PARRH EstA
In Euripides' Ion, wrirten ten years earlier than Orestes,around
418 8.C., panhesiawas presented as having only a posirive
senseor value. And, as we sa% it was both the freedom to
speakone's mind, and a privilege conferred on the {irst citi-
'fhe
zens of Athens-a privilege which Ion wished to enioy.
parhesiastesspoke the truth precisely becausehe was a good
citizen, was well-born, had a respectfulrelation to the city, to
the law, and to truth. And for Ion, the problem was that in
order for him to assumethe parrhesiasticrole which camenat-
urally to him, the truth about his birth had to be disclosed.
But becauseApollo did not wish to reveal this truth, Creusa
had to disclosehis birth by using parrhesiaagainstthe god in
a public accusation.And thus [on's panhesiawas established,
was grounded in Athenian soil, in the game betweenthe gods
47. According to Foucault's scheme, the successionofspeakers mav tre
placed as follows:
Parrhesia
NEGATIVE SENSE POSII'IVl, SliNSll
Mythological Figures: tlthybius Diomcdcs
Politico-Social Types: umathesparrhesi.ttstes aut0urgos
P o l i t i c a l F i g u r e sI m p l i e d : [ C l e o p h o n ] ['fhcmmcncsl
 [ , 1 r 1l r r ' l o L l C a u l l F r n n r e r 5 g5 p 6 5 ç 6

and mortals. So there was no "problematization" ol thc punhe- The panhesiastes'relation to truth can no longer simply be
sicstesas such within this first conception. by pure franknessor sheercourage,for the relation
estab,lished
ln Orcstes,however'there is a split within ptrnlrr'sittitself now req\rires education or) more generally, some sort of per-
between its positive and negative senses;and tlrc prohlem of sonal training. But the precisesort ofpersonal training or edu-
panhesiaoccurssolely within the field of human p;rrrhcsiastic cation nssdsd is also an issue (and is contemporaneouswith
roles. This crisis of the functbn of pathesia hrts lwo major the problem of sophistry).In Orestes, it seemsmore likely that
aspects. lhe rnallls5isrequired is not that of the Socratic or Platonic
The first concernsthe question:who is entitlc(l lo usepdr- concgpli6n,but the kind of experiencethat an autourgos would
rhesia?Is it enough simply to acceptpanhesiaas a civil right get tblougb his own life.
such that any and every citizen can speakin thc assemblyif And now I think we can begin to seethat the crisis regard-
and when he wishes?Or shouldpanhesiabe exclusivclygrant- ing banhesiais a problem of truth: for the problem is one of
ed to somecitizensonly accordingto their socialstatusor per- recognizing who is capableof speaking the truth within the
sonal virtues? There is a discrepancybetween an egalitarian limits of an institutional system where everyone is equally
systemwhich enableseveryoneto usepanhesia,and the neces- entitled to give his own opinion. Democracy by itself is not
sity of choosing among the citizenry those who are able able 1s determine who has the specificqualities which enable
(becauseof their socialor personalqualities)to uscporrlresicin him to speakthe truth (and thus should possessthe right to
such a way that it truly benefitsthe city. And this discrepancy tell t6s truth). Andpanhesia,as a verbal activity' as pure frank-
generatesthe emergenceof panhesiaas a problematic issue. nessin speaking,is also not sufficient to disclosetruth since
For unlike isonomia(the equality of all citizens in front of the negalivg p anftesic,i gnorant outspokenness,can also result'
law) and isegoria(the legal right givcn to everyoneto speakhis The crisis of.panhesia, which emergesat the crossroadsof
own opinion),panhesiawas n()t clcarlv dcfined in institution- an i\1s11qg21ion about democracyand an interrogation about
al terms. There was no law, tor cxarnplc'protecting the panhe- trutl, gfvss rise ro a problematizationof some hitherto unprob-
sidstes from potential retaliationor pttttishmentfor what he lemitic relations betweenfreedom, power' democracy,educa-
said. And thus there was also a problctn in thc relation tion and truth in Athens at the end of the Fifth Century.From
zakon in resnica
betweennomosand aletheiu:ltow ts it pttssiblcto givc legal the breviousproblem of gaining access to parrhesiain spite of
e h o r c l a t e st o t r t t l l t / ' l l t c r cl t r cl o r l t t a l a w so f
f o r m t o s o m e o nw the lilence of god, we move to a problematizationof panhesia,
valid reasoning, but ntt social. poltttt:tl. ()r ltl\tlltlll()ltltl laws i.e.,ranhesi.aitself becomesproblematic' split within itself'
determining who is ablc to .rl{ltA t lrc l rttllt I do not wish to imply thatpanhesia,as an explicit notion,
T h e s e c o n d a s p e c t( ) l l l t c e r t s t sr t t l t t c l l l l l l N I l l ( l t l t l \ I l { ) t lr } l eme'ges at this moment of crisis-as if the Greeks did not
p a t t h e s i a h a s t o d o w i t h t h c r c l l t l i o t t t t l p 1 1 7 7 l p ' ' 1l,.t t r r ( r / l l r ' . t l st'o havt xly coherentidea of the freedom of speechpreviously,or
knowledge and educatitltt r v h i t l r t t t c l t t t s t l t ; l l / r " r r ' " r\ r r ' l t l i t l l ( l of tlrevalue of free speech.What I mean is that there is a new
ofitselfis no longer ctlnsitlcrctl il(lc(ltlillclo tltst l.st' tltt' ttttllt. protlematization of the relations between verbal activity,
 lvlicheF
l oucault

education,freedom,power, and the existing political institu-

tions which marks a crisis in the way freedom of speech is
understood in Athens. And this problematizarion demands a
new way of taking care of and asking questions about these
relations.
I emphasizethis point for at least the following merhod-
ological reason.I would like to distinguish between rhe "his-
tory of ideas" and the "history of thought." Most of the time
a historian of ideastries to determine when a specificconcept
appears>and this moment is often identified by the appearance
of a new word. But what I am attempting to do as a historian
of thought is something different. I am trying to analyze the
way institutions, practices, habits, and behavior become 3.
a problem for people who behavein specific sorts of ways, who
have certain types of habits, who engagein certain kinds of in the Crisis of
Parchesia
practices)and who put to work specific kinds of institutions.
The history ofideas involves the analysisofa notion from its
Democratic Institutions "
birth, through its developmenr,and in the setting of other
ideas which constitute its context.[The history of thought is
the analysisof the way an unproblematic lield of experience,
or a set of practices,which were acceptedwithout question,
which were familiar and "silent," out of discussion,becomes
a problem, raisesdiscussionand debate,incites new reactions,
and induces a crisis in the previously silent behavior, habits,
practices,and institutionsJttre history of rhought, understood
in this wag is the history of the way peoplebegin to rake care
of something, of the way they becomeanxious about this or
that-for example,about madness,about crime, about sex,
about themselves,or about truth.
I r ^ k L E S SS p E E c H

'lbday
I would like to complete what I began last time about
punhesia and the crisis of democratic institutions in the
Fourth Century B.C.; and then I would like to move on to the
analysisof another form of panhesia,viz., panhesiain the field
of personalrelations(to oneselfand to others),or paîhesia and
the careof the self.
The explicit criticism of speakerswho utilizedpanhesinin
its negativesensebecamea commonplacein Greek political
thought after the Peloponnesian\ùtar; and a debateemerged
concerningthe relationship of panheslato democraticinstitu-
tions.aeThe problem, very roughly put, was the following.
Democracyis founded by a politeia,a constitution, where the
demos,rhe people, exercisepower, and where everyone is equal
in front of the law. Such a constitution, however, is con-
demned to give equal place to all forms of panhesia,even the
worst. Becausepanhesiais given even to the worst citizens,the
overwhelminginfluence of bad, immoral, or ignorant speâkers
may lead the citizenry into tyranny, or may otherwiseendan-
ger the city. Hencepanhesiamay be dangerousfor democracy
itself. To us this problem seemscoherentand familiar, but for
the Greeksthe discoveryof this problem, of a necessaryantin-
omy between panhesia-freedom of speech-and democracy,
inaugurateda long impassioneddebateconcerningthe precise
nature of the dangerous relations which seemed to exist
between democracy,/ogos,freedom, and truth.
W'emust take into accountthe fact that we know one side
of the discussionmuch better than the other for the simple

48. Fourth Lecture: 14 November 1983.

49. Cf. Robert J. Jonner,,{specn of Athenian Democracy, 1933 (Chapter IV:
"Freedom of Speech"); A.H.M. Jones, "The Athenian Democracy and its
Critics" in Athenian Democracy,1957: 4l-72; Giuseppe Scarpat,Panhesia,
38-57.
 MichelFoucault
reason that most of the texts which have been preserved from
this period come from writers who were either more or less
directly affiliated with the arisrocraric party, or at least dis-
trustful of democratic or radically democratic institutions.
And I would like to quote a number of these texts as examples
of the problem we are examining.
The first one I would like to quote is an ultra-conserva-
tive, ultra-aristocraticlampooning of the democraticAthenian
constitution, probably writren during the secondhalf of the
Fifth Century. For a long time this lampoon was attributed to
Xenophon. But now scholarsagreethat this attribution was
not correct, and the Anglo-American classicistseven have a
nice nickname for this Pseudo-Xenophon, the unnamed
author of this lampoon. They call him the "Old Oligarch.,'
This text must came from one of those aristocraticcircles or
political clubs which were so acrivein Athens at the end of the
Fifth Century. Such circles were very influential in the anti-
democraticrevolution of 4ll B.C. during the Peloponnesian
\ùflar.
The lampoon takes the form of a paradoxicalpraise or
eulogy-a genre very familiar to the Greeks.The writer is sup-
posedto be an Athenian democratwho focuseson someof the
most obvious imperfections, shortcomings, blemishes, fail-
ures>etc., of Athenian democratic institutions and political
life; and he praisesthese imperfecrionsas if they were quali-
ties with the most positive consequences. The text is without
any real literary value since the writer is more aggressivethan
witty. But the main thesis which is at the roor of most criti-
cismsof Athenian democraticinstitutions can be found in this
text, and is, I think, significant for this type ofradically aris-
tocratic attitude.
This aristocratic thesis is the following. The demos,the
I r ARLEssSPEEcH
people, are the most numerous. Since they are the most
numerous, the demosis also comprised of the most ordinary,
and indeed, even the worst, citizens. Therefore the demoscan-
not be comprisedof the best citizens.And so what is best for
rhe demoscannot be what is best for the polis, for the city. \Ûith
this general argurnent as a background, the "Old Oligarch"
ironically praisesAthenian democraticinstitutions; and there
are samelengthy passages caricaturing freedom ofspeech:
Now one might saythat the right thing would be that [the
people] not allow all to speakon an equal footing, nor
to have a seatin the council,but only the cleverestmen
and the best.But on this point, too, they havedetermined
on the perfectly right thing by also allowing the vulgar
peopleto speak.For if only the aristocracywere allowed
to speakand took part in the debate,it would be good to
them and their peers,but not to the proletarians.But now
that any vulgar personwho wants to do so may step for-
ward and speak,he will just expressthat which is goodto
him and his equals.
One might ask: How should such a person be able to
understandwhat is good to him or to the people?Well,
the massesunderstandthat this man's ignorance,vulgar-
ity, and sympathyare more useful to them than all the
morals,wisdom,and antipathyof the distinguishedman.
With sucha socialorder.it is true. a statewill not be able
to developinto perfectionitself, but democracywill be
best maintained in this manner.For the people do not
want to be in the circumstancesof slavesin a statewith
an ideal constitution,but to be free and be in power;
whether the constitution is bad or no, they do not care
 MichelFoucault
very much. For what you think is no ideal constitution,is
just the condition for the people being in power and
being free.
For if you seekan ideal constitutionyou will seethat in
the first place the laws are made by the most skillful per-
sons;further the aristocracywill consultabout the affairs
ofthe stateand put a stopto unruly personshavinga seat
in the council or speakingor taking part in the assembly
of the people.But the people,well, they will as a conse-
quenceof thesegood reforms rather sink into slavery.5o
Now I would like to switch to another text which presents
a much more moderate position. It is a text written by
Isocrates in the middle of the Fourth Century; and Isocrates
refers several times to the notion of parhesia and to the prob-
lem of free speech in a democracy. At the beginning of his
great oration, "On the Peace"[llepi" dtp(vqç], written in 355
B.C., Isocrates contrasts the Athenian people's attitude
towards receiving advice about their private businesswhen
they consult reasonable,well-educatedindividuals with the
way they consideradvicewhen dealing with public affairsand
political activities:
...wheneveryou takecounselregardingyour privatebusi-
nessyou seekout as counsellorsmen who are your supe-
riors in intelligence,but wheneveryou deliberateon the
businessof the stateyou distrust and dislike men of that
50. Pseudo-Xenophon, 77re Constitutian of the Athenians. Tians. Hartvig
Frisch, SS6-9.
F E A R L E s SS P E E C H
characterand cultivate,instead,the most depravedofthe
oralors who come before you on this platform; and you
prefer as being better friends of the people thosewho are
drunk to those who are sober,those who are witless to
those who are wise, and those who dole out the public
money to thosewho perform public servicesat their own
expense.So that we may well marvel that anyone can
expecta statewhich employssuchcounsellorsto advance
to betterthings.sr
But not only do Athenians listen to the most depraved
orators; they are not even willing to hear truly good speakers,
for they deny them the possibility ofbeing heard:
I observe...thatyou do not hear with equal favor the
speakerswho addressyou, but that, while you give your
attention to some, in the caseof others you do not even
suffertheir voiceto be heard.And it is not surprisingthat
you do this; for in the past you have formed the habit of
driving all the oratorsfrom the platform except thosewho
supportyour desires.52
51. Isocrates,"On the Peace."Tians. George Norlin, Sll3. In his "Third
Philippic" [34] B.C.], Demosthenes similarly remarks: "In other mamers
you think it so necessary to granr general freedom of speech [panhesial to
everyone in Athens that you even allow aliens and slaves to share in the
privilege, and many menials may be observed among you speaking their
minds with more liberty than citizens enioy in other states; but from your
deliberations you have banished it utterly. Hence the result is that in the
Assembly your self-complacency is flattered by hearing none but pleasant
speeches, but your policy and your practice are already involving you in
the gravest perils" [Tians. J.H. Vince; SS 3-4].
52. Isocrates,"On the Peace," $3.
 MichelFoucault
And that, I think, is important. For you seethat the dif-
ferencebetweenthe good and the bad orator doesnot lie pri-
marily in the fact that one givesgood while the other givesbad
advice.The differencelies in this: the depravedorators,who
are acceptedby the people,only say what the people desireto
hear. Hence, Isocrates calls such speakers "flatterers"
[rô]"crreç].The honest orator)in contrast,has the ability, and
is courageousenough, to opposethe demos.He has a critical
and pedagogicalrole to play which requiresthat he attempt to
transform the will of the citizens so that they will serve the
best interestsof the city. This opposition betweenthe people's
will and the city's best interests is fundamental to Isocrates'
criticism of the democratic institutions of Athens. And he
concludesthat becauseit is not even possibleto be heard in
Athens if one doesnot parrot the demos'will, there is democ-
racy-which is a good thing-but the only parrhesiasticor
outspoken speakersleft who have an audienceare "reckless
orators" and "comic poets":
...I know that it is hazardousto opposeyour views and
that, although this is a free government,there existsno
"freedom of speech" ft;anhesial except that which is
enjoyed in this Assemblyby the most recklessorators'
who care nothing for your welfare,and in the theatreby
the comic poets.5l
53. Isocrates,"On the Peace."Trans. George Norlin, $14. Ofcomicpcnie-
sla \(erner Jaegerwrites: "Comedy was produced by democracy as an anti-
dote to its own overdoseofliberty thereby outdoing its own excesses,and
extending panhesid, its vaunted freedom ofspeech, to subiects which are
usually tabu even in a free political system... Comedy was the censorship
of Athens" [Paideia,Vol. l. Tians. Gilbert Highet;36Ç365].
F E A R L E s SS P E E o H
Hence, rcal panhesia, panhesia in its positive, critical
sense,doesnot exist where democracyexists.
In the "Areopagiticus"[355 B.C.], Isocraresdraws a set of
distinctions which similarly expressesthis generalidea of the
incompatibility of true democracy and critical panhesia. For
he comparesthe old Solonian and Cleistheneanconstiturions
to presentAthenian political life, and praisesthe older polities
on the grounds that they gave to Athens democracy
[ôqporpadcr], liberty [bÀ^eut0epia],happiness [eirôartrrovicr],
and equality in front of the law [içovopia]. All of theseposi-
tive features of the old democracy, however, he claims have
become perverted in the present Athenian democracy.
Democracyhas becomelack of self-restraint[crrcoÀao(a];lib-
erty has become lawlessness[rcrpcrvofra]; happiness has
becomethe freedom to do whateverone pleases[b(ou(ra roô
ttovtcl rorsîv]; and equaliry in front of the law has become
panhesia.saPanhesi.ain this text has only a negative)peiorative
sense.So, as you can see,in Isocratesthere is a constant posi-
tive evaluationof democracyin general,but coupled with the
assertionthat it is impossible to enjoy both democracyand
panhesia(understoodin its positive sense).Moreover, there is
the samedistrust of the demos'feelings,opinions, and desires
which we encountered. in more radical form. in the Old
Oligarch'slampoon.
A third text I would'like to examine comes from Plato's
Republic [Book VIII, 557a-bf, where Socrates explains how
democracyarisesand develops.For he tells Adeimantus that:
\ù7henthe poor win, the result is democracy.They kill
some of the opposite party, banish others, and grant the
54. Isocrates,'âreopagiticus." Tians. George Norlin, $20.
 MichelFoucault
rest an equal sharein civil rights and government,offi-
cials beingusually appointedby lot.s5
Socratesthen asks: "Vhat is the character of this new
regime?" And he saysof the peoplein a democracy:
First of all, they are free. Liberty and free speechft;anhe-
sial are rife everywhere,anyone is allowed to do what he
likes... That being so, every man will arrangehis own
mannerof life to suit his pleasure.56
\ûhat is interesting about this text is rhar Plato doesnot
blame panheszafor endowing everyone with the possibility of
influencing the city including the worst citizens. For Plato,
the primary danger of panhesiais not that it leads to bad deci-
sions in government,or provides the meansfor someignorant
or corrupt leaderto gain power, to becomea tyrant. The pri-
mary danger of liberty and free speechin a democracy is what
results when everyonehas his own manner of life, his own
style of life, or what Plato calls "rccrrcôreuq toô ffrou." For
then there can be no common logos,no possibleunity, for the
city. Following the Platonic principle that there is an analo-
gous relation betweenthe way a human being behavesand the
way a city is ruled, between the hierarchical organization of
the facultiesof a human being and the constitutional make-up
of the polis,you can seevery well that if everyonein the city
behavesjust as he wishes,with eachpersonfollowing his own
opinion, his own will or desires,then there are in the city as
many constitutions,as many small autonomouscities, as there
55.Plaro,Republrc.
Tians.F M. Cornford.
BookVIII, 557a.
56.rbid.,557b.
I I ARtESs SpEEcH
are citizens doing whateverthey please.And you can seethat
Plato also considers parhesia not only as the freedom to say
whatever one wishes, but as linked with the freedom to do
whateverone wants. It is a kind of anarchy involving the free_
dom to chooseone's own style of life without limit.
rù(/ell,there are numerous other things
to say about the
political problematization of panhesiain Greek culture,
bur
I think that we can observetwo main aspectsof this prob_
lematization during the Fourth Century.
First, asis clearin Plato'stext for example,the problem of
the freedom of speech becomes increasingly related to the
choiceofexistence,to the choiceofone's way oflife. Freedom
in the use of logosincreasinglybecomesfreedom in the choice
of àros.And as a result,panhesiais regardedmore and more as
a personalattitude, a personalquality, as a virtue which is use_
ful for the city's politicat life in rhe caseofpositive or critical
panhesia, or as a danger for the city in the case of negative,
peiorative panhesia.
In Demosthenes, for example, one can find a number
of references to panhesia;s7but panhesia is usually spoken
of as a personal quality, and not as an institutional right.
Demosthenesdoes not seekor make an issue of institutional
guaranteesfor panhesia,but insists on the fact that he, as a per_
sonal citizen, will useparràesiabecausehe must boldly speak
the truth about the city's bad politics. And he claims rhat in so
doing he runs a grearrisk. For it is dangerousfor him to speak
freely,given that the Athenians in the Assembly are so reluc_
tant to acceptany criticism.
Secondly,we can observeanother transformation in the
(hations:
57.Cf.Demosthenes, 4,51;6,31;9,3;
5g,6g;Fr.21.
 M i c h e lF o u c a u l t F e a n r e s sS p e e c s

of Hymettus, who was cultivating the spot afterwards

problematization of panhesia:parrhesiais increasingly linked
known as "Tâx-free Farm." He saw a man digging and
to another kind of political institution, viz', monarchy'
working at a very stony piece of ground, and being sur-
Freedom of speechmust now be used towards the king' But
prisedhe senthis attendantto askwhat he got out of this
obviously in such a monarchic situation, panhesin is much
plot of land. 'Achesand pains,"said the man; "and that's
more dependentupon the personalqualities both of the king
what Pisistratusought to have his tenth of." The man
(who must chooseto accept or reiect the use of panhesia),and
spoke without knowing who his questioner was; but
of the king's advisors. Panhesi'ais no longer an institutional
Pisistratuswas so pleasedwith his frank speech ftnrrhe-
right or privilege-as in a democratic city-but is much more
sia] and his industry that he grantedhim exemption.5e
a personalattitude, a choice ofbios.
This transformation is evident, for example, in Aristotle'
Sopanhesiaoccurshere in the monarchic situation.
Thewoû,panhesia is rarely used by Aristotle, but it doesoccur
There is' however, no political analysis The word is also used by Aristotle in the Nicomachean
in four or five places.58
Etftics [Book IV,ll24b28f, not to characterizea political prac-
of the concept of panhesia as connected with any political
tice or institution, but as a trait of the magnanimousman, the
institution. For when the word occurs' it is always either in
megalopsychos [peycÀôyu1oç]. Some of the other characteris-
relation to monarchy, or as a personal feature of the ethical'
tics of the magnanimousman are more or less related to the
moral character.
parrhesiasticcharacter and attitude. For example, rhe mega-
In the Constitutionof Athens, Aristotle gives an example
lopsychosis courageous,but he is not one who likes danger so
of positive, critical panhesia in the tyrannic administration of
pisistratus.As you know, Aristotle consideredPisistratusto be much that he runs out to greet it, i.e., he is not "QtÀo-
rrvôtvoç." His courage is rational IlL24b7-91. He prefers
a humane and beneficent tyrant whose reign was very fruitful
aletheinio doxa, truth to opinion. He does not like flatterers.
for Athens. And Aristotle gives the following accountof how
And since he looks down on [rataQpovdiv] other men, he is
Pisistratusmet a small landowner after he had imposed a ten
"outspoken and frank" lll24b28l. He usespanhesia to speak
percenttax on all Produce:
the truth becausehe is able to recognizethe faults of others:
he is consciousof his own differencefrom them. of his own
... [Pisistratus]often madeexpeditionsin personinto the
superiority.
countryto inspectit and to settledisputesbetweenindi-
So you see that for Aristotle, panhesiais either a moral-
viduals, that they might not come into the city and
that' as cthical quality, or pertains to free speech as addressedto
neglecttheir farms.It wasin one of the progresses
rr monarch.Increasingly,thesepersonaland moral featuresof
the storygoes,Pisistratushad his adventurewith the man
lrùfihesiabecomemore pronounced.

58.Cf.Aristotle,Eth.Nic.ll24b2g,ll65a29;Poll3l3bl5;Rhet'1382b20; 'r r\ristotle, Con*itution of Athens,Tians.

E. G. Kenyon, 16.
AI. 1432b18.
Rhet.

l V i c h e lF o u c a u l t
problematization of panhesia:parthesiais increasingly linked
to another kind of political institution' viz.' monarchy.
Freedom of speech must now be used towards the king' But
obviously, in such a monarchic situation, panhesia is much
more dependentupon the personalqualities both of the king
(who must chooseto accept or reject the use of panhesia), and
of the king's advisors. Panhesia is no longer an institutional
right or privilege-as in a democratic city-but is much more
a personalattitude, a choice ofbios.
This transformation is evident, for example, in Aristotle.
"lhewordpanhesia is rarely used by Aristotle, but it doesoccur
There is, however' no political analysis
in four or five places.sS
of the concept of panhesia as connected with any political
institution. For when the word occurs, it is alwayseither in
relation to monarchy, or as a personal feature of the ethical,
moral character.
In the Constitutionof Athens, Aristotle gives an example
of positive, critical panhesiain the tyrannic administration of
Pisistratus.As you know, Aristotle consideredPisistratusto be
a humane and benelicent tyrant whose reign was very fruitful
for Athens. And Aristotle gives the following accountof how
Pisistratusmet a small landowner after he had imposed a ten
percenttax on all produce:
... fPisistratus]often madeexpeditionsin personinto the
country to inspect it and to settle disputes betweenindi-
viduals, that they might not come into the city and
neglecttheir farms.It wasin one of the progresses that' as
the storygoes,Pisistratushad his adventure with the man
Pol.l313bl5;Rhet.l)82b20;
Nir.1124b29,1165a29;
58.Cf.Aristotle,Eth.
Rhet.
At.1432b18.
I rARLEss SPEEcH
of Hymettus, who was cultivating the spot afterwards
known as "Tâx-free Farm." He saw a man digging and
working at a very stony piece of ground, and being sur-
prisedhe senthis attendantto askwhat he got out of this
plot of land. 'Achesand pains,"said the man; "and that's
what Pisistratus ought to have his tenth of." The man
spoke without knowing who his questioner was; but
Pisistratuswas so pleasedwith his frank speech fttanhe-
sla] and his industry that he grantedhim exemption.se
Sopanhesiaoccurshere in the monarchic situation.
The word is also used by Aristotle in the Nicomachean
Etiics [Book IV ll24b28], not to characterizea political prac-
tice or institution, but as a trait of the magnanimousman, the
megalopsychos [peyaÀôyu1oç]. Some of the other characteris-
tics of the magnanimousman are more or less related to the
parrhesiastic character and attitude. For example, the mega-
lopsychosis courageous,but he is not one who likes danger so
much that he runs out to greet it, i.e., he is not "$tl"o-
Évôuvoç." His courage is rational lll24b7-91. He prefers
aletheiato doxa, truth to opinion. He does not like flatterers.
And since he looks down on [ratcrQpovéiv] other men, he is
"outspoken and frank" ILI24b28l. He usespanhesia to speak
the truth becausehe is able to recognizethe faults of others:
he is consciousof his own differencefrom them. of his own
superiority.
So you see that for Aristotle, panhesiais either a moral-
ethical quality, or pertains to free speech as addressedto
a monarch. Increasingly,thesepersonaland moral featuresof
parhesiabecomemore pronounced.
59. Aristotle, Constitutionof Athens,Tians. E G. Kenyon, 16.
 4.
Panhesiain the Careof the Self
FEARLESS
SpEÉcH

Socnarrc Pnnanzsn

I would now like to analyze a new form of panhesiawhich was

emerging and developing even before Isocrates, Plato, and
Aristotle. There are, of course,important similarities and anal-
ogous relationships between the political panhesia we have
been examining and this new form of panhesia.But in spite of
these similarities, a number of specific features,directly relat-
ed to the figure ofSocrates,characterizeand differentiate this
new Socraticpanhesia.
In selectinga testimony about Socratesas a parrhesiastic
figure, I have chosen Plato's Laches (or "on Courage" [Ilepi
avôpeiuç]); and this, for severalreasons.First, although this
Platonic dialogue, the Laches,is rather short, the word parhe-
sla appearsthree times [78a5, l79cl, lS9al]-which is rather
a lot when one takesinto accounthow infrequently Plato uses
the word.
At the beginning of the dialogue it is also interesting to
note that the different participants are characterized by their
pathesi.a.Lysimachus and Melesias,two of the participants,
say that they will speak their minds freely, using panhesin to
confessthat they have done or accomplishednothing very
important, glorious, or special in their own lives. And they
make this confessionto two other older citizens, Laches and
Nicias (both of them quite famous generals),in the hope that
they, too, will speak openly and frankly-for they are old
enough, influential enough, and glorious enough to be frank
and not hide what they truly think. But this passage[178a5]is
not the main one I would like to quote since it employs par-
rhesiain an everydaysense,and is not an instanceof Socratic
parrhesia.
 MichelFoucault
From a strictly theoretical poinr of view the dialogue is
a failure becauseno one in the dialogue is able to give a rario-
nal, true, and satisfactory definition of courage-which is the
topic of the piece. But in spite of the fact that even Socrares
himself is not able to give such a definition, ar rhe end of rhe
dialogue Nicias, Laches, Lysimachus, and Melesias all agree
that Socrateswould be the best teacherfor their sons.And so
Lysimachus and Melesias ask him to adopt this role. Socrares
accepts,sayingthat everyoneshould try to take careofhimself
and of his sons [201b4].And here you find a norion which, as
some of you know, I like a lot: the concept of. "epimeleia
heautotr,"the "care of the self." We have,then, I think, a move-
ment visible throughout this dialogue from the parrhesiastic
figure of Socratesto the problem of the care of the self.
Beforewe read the specificpassagesin the text that I would
like to quote, however, we need to recall the situation at the
beginning of the dialogue.But since the Lachesis very complex
and interwoven, I shall do so only briefly and schematically.
Two elderly men, Lysimachus and Melesias, are con-
cerned about the kind of education they should give to their
sons. Both of them belong to eminent Athenian families;
Lysimachusis the son of Aristeides"the Just" and Melesiasis
the son of Thucydides the Elder. But although their own
fathers were illustrious in their own day, Lysimachus and
Melesiashave accomplishednothing very specialor glorious
in their own lives: no important military campaigns,no sig-
nificant political roles. They usepanhesia to admit this pub-
licly. And they have also askedthemselvesthe question,How
is it that from such goodgenos[Évoç], from such good stock,
from such a noble family, they were both unable to distinguish
themselves?Clearly, as their own experienceshows, having
a high birth and belonging to a noble Athenian houseare not
F E A R L E S SS P E E C H
suf{icient to endow someonewith the aptitude and the ability
to assumea prominent position or role in the city. They real-
rze that something more is needed, viz., education.
But what kind of education?\7hen we consider that the
dramatic date of the Lachesis around the end of the Fifth
Century, at a time when a great many individuals-most of
them presenting themselvesas Sophists-claimed that they
could provide young peoplewith a good education,we can rec-
ognize here a problematic which is common to a number of
Platonic dialogues.The educationaltechniquesthat werebeing
propoundedaround this time often dealtwith severalaspectsof
education, e.g., rhetoric (learning how to addressa iury or
a political assembly),various sophistic techniques,and occa-
sionally military education and training. In Athens at this
time there was also a maior problem being debatedregarding
the best way to educateand train the infantry soldiers, who
were largely inferior to the Spartan hoplites. And all of the
political, social, and institutional concerns about education,
which form the generalcontext ofthis dialogue,are related to
the problem of panhesia.In the political field we saw that there
was a need for a panhesiastes who could speak the truth about
political institutions and decisions,and the problem there was
knowing how to recognize such a truth-teller. In its basic
form, this sameproblem now reappearsin the field of educa-
tion. For ifyou yourselfare not well-educated,how then can
you decide what constitutesa good education?And if people
are to be educated,they must receivethe truth from a compe-
tent teacher. But how can we distinguish the good, truth-
telling teachersfrom the bad or inessentialones?
It is in order to help them come to such a decision that
Lysimachus and Melesius ask Nicias and Laches to witness
a performance given by Stesilaus-a man who claims to be
 MichelFoucaull F E A R L E s sS P E E c H

a teacher of hoplomachiafon]uopo,itcrl or the art

of fighting despite their fame, their importanr role in Athenian affairs,
with heavy arms. This teacher is an athlete, technician,
actor, their age, their experience,and so on, rhey should refer to
and artist. \flhich means that although he is very
skillful in Socrates-who has been there all along-to see what he
handling weapons, he does nor use his skill to actually
fight thinks. And after Socratesreminds them that educationcon-
the enemy,but only to make money by giving public perfor_
cerns the care of the soul [85d], Nicias explains why he will
mancesand teaching the young men. The man is a
kind of allow his soul to be "tested" by Socrates,i.e., why he will play
sophist for the martial arts.After seeinghis skills demonstrat_
the Socratic parrhesiastic game. And this explanation of
ed in this public performance, however, neither
Lysimachus Nicias' is, I think, a portrayal of Socratesas a panhesiastes:
nor Melesius is able to decide whether this sort
of skill in
fighting would constirute part of a good education.
So they NICIAS: You strike me as not being awarethat, whoever
turn to two well-known figures of their time,
Nicias and comesinto closecontactwith Socratesand has any talk
Laches,and ask their advice [l7Sa-lgtd].
with him face to face,is bound to be drawn round and
Nicias is an experiencedmilitary general who won sever_
round by him in the courseof the argument-though it
al victories on the battlefield, and was an important political
may havestartedat first on a quite different theme-and
leader.Laches is also a respectedgeneral, although
he doesnot cannotstop until he is led into giving an accountof him-
play as signilicant a role in Athenian politics.
Both of them self,of the mannerin which he now spendshis days,and
give their opinions about Stesilaus,demonstration,
and it of the kind of life he has lived hitherto;and when oncehe
turns out that they arein completedisagreementregarding
the hasbeenled into that, Socrates will neverlet him go until
value of this military skill. Nicias thinks that this
military he has thoroughly and properly put all his ways to the
technicianhas done well, and that his skill may be able pro_
ro test.Now I am accustomedto him, and so I know that one
vide the young with a good military education
[lgle_lg2d]. is bound to be thus treated by him, and further, that
Laches disagrees,and argues that the Spartans, who
are the I myself shall certainlyget the sametreâtmentalso.F'or
best soldiers in Greece,never have recourseto such
teachers. I delight, Lysimachus,in conversingwith the man, and
Moreover,he thinks that Stesilausis not a soldier since
he has seeno harm in our being remindedofany pastor present
never won any real victories in battle
Itg2d_IS4c]. Through misdoing:nay,one must needstake more carefulthought
this disagreementwe seethat not only ordinary citizens
with_ for the rest of one's life, if one doesnot fly from his words
out any specialqualities are unable to decide what
is the best but is willing, as Solonsaid,and zealousto learn as long
kind of educarion,and who is able to teachskills worrh
learn- as one lives,and doesnot expectto get good senseby the
ing, but even those who have long military and political
expe_ mere arrival of old age.So to me there is nothing unusu-
rience, like Nicias and Laches, cannot come to a
unanimous al, or unpleasanteither, in being tried and tested by
decision.
Socrates;in fact, I knew pretty well all the time that our
In the end, however, Nicias and Laches both agree
that argumentwould not be about the boys if Socrateswere
 MichelFoucault
present,but about ourselves.Let me thereforerepeatthat
there is no obfection on my parr to holding a debatewith
Socratesafter the fashionthat he likes...60
Nicias' speech describes the parrhesiastic game of
Socratesfrom the point of view of the one who is ,.tested.,'But
unlike the parrhesiasrss who addressesthe demosin the assem_
bly, for example, here we have a parrhesiastic game which
requires a personal, face to face relationship. Thus the begin_
ning of the quote states:..\ryhoever comes into close contact
with Socratesand has any talk with him faceto face...,,
[lg7e].
Socrates'interlocutor must get in touch with him, establish
someproximity to him in order to play this parrhesiastic game.
That is the lirst point.
Secondly, in this relationship ro Socrates,the listener is
led by Socrates'discourse.The passivity ofthe Socratichear_
er, however,is not the same kind of passivity as that of a lis_
tener in the Assembly.The passivityof a listener in the polit_
ical parrhesiasticgameconsistsin being persuadedby what he
listens to. Here, the listener is led by the Socratic bgos into
"giving an account"-"didonai /ogoz [ôrô6vcrt Àô1ov]"_of
"himself, of the manner in which he now spendshis days,and
of the kind of life he has lived hirherro', [lg7e--lgga].Because
we are inclined to read such texts through the glassesof our
Christian culture, however, we might interpret this descrip-
tion of the Socratic game as a practice where the one who is
being led by Socrates'discourse must give an autobiographical
account of his life, or a confessionof his faults. But such an
interpretation would miss the real meaning of the text. For
60.Plato,Laches. Tians. Wl R. M. Lamb, lgTe-lggc
F L A R L E s SS P E E c H
when we compare this passagewith similar descriptiotrs,rl
Socrates'method of examination-as in the Apologt, Alcibutht
Major, or the Gorgias,where we also frnd the idea that to bc lctl
by the Socraticlogosis to "give an account" ofoneselÊ-wc scc
very clearly that what is involved is not a confessionalautohi-
ography.In Plato's or Xenophon'sportrayalsof him, we nevcr
seeSocratesrequiring an examination ofconscienceor a con-
fessionof sins. Here, giving an account of your life, your àlo.s,
is also not to give a narrative ofthe historical eventsthat have
taken placein your life, but rather to demonstratewhether you
are able to show that there is a relation between the rational
discourse, the logos,you are able ro use, and the way that you
live. Socratesis inquiring into the way that /ogosgives form to
a person's style of life; for he is interested in discovering
whether there is a harmonic relation between the two. Later
on in this same dialogue [90d-194b] for example, when
Socratesasks Laches to give the reason for his courage, he
wânts not a narrative of Laches'exploits in the Peloponnesian
War,but for Lachesto attempt to disclosethe logoswhich gives
rational, intelligible form to his courage.Socrates'role,then,
is to ask for a rational accountingofa person'slife.
This role is characterizedin the text as that ofa "basanos"
[Baocxvoç] or "touchstone" which teststhe degree of accord
between a person'slife and its principle of intelligibility or
/ogos.'"...Socrates will never let [his listener] go until he has
thoroughly and properly put all his ways to the test [nprv dv
paoavioS rcx0rcr erf te rcri rcl.ôç ùæcvtcrl" [88a]. Thc
Greek word basanos refers to a "touchstone", i.e., a black stone
which is usedto test the genuinenessof gold by examining thc
streak left on the stone when "touched" by the gold in qucs-
tion. Similarly, Socrates'"basanic" role enableshim to detcr-
mine the true nature of the relation between the logosand ôro.ç
 N 4 i c h eFl o u c a u l t
of thosewho come into contactwith him.6'
Then, in the secondpart of this quotation, Nicias explains
that as a result of Socrates'examination,one becomeswilling
to care for the manner in which he lives rhe rest of his life,
wanting now to live in the bestpossibleway; and this willing-
nesstakesthe form ofazeal to learn and to educateoneselfno
matter what one's age.
Laches' speech, which immediately follows, describes
Socrates'parrhesiastic game from the perspective of one who
has inquired into Socrates'roleas a touchstone.For the prob-
lem arisesof knowing how we can be sure that Socrateshim-
selfis a goodbasanos for testing the relation betweenlogosand.
àiosin his listener's life.
LACHES: I have but a singlemind, Nicias, in regardto
discussions,or if you like, a double râther than a single
one. For you might think me a lover, and yet also a hater,
of discussions:
for when I hear a man discussingvirtue or
any kind of wisdom, one who is truly a man and worthy
of his argument,I am exceedinglydelighred;I take the
speakerand his speechtogether, and observehow they
61. In the Gorgias,Plato writes: "SOC. If my soul were gold, Callicles,
don't you think I'd delight in finding a rouchstone to put that gold to the
test?The best rouchsrone available,one which if I applied it and the stone
agreed with me that my soul had been well cared f'or, I might be assured
at last that I sufficed and needed no orhcr test? CAI-. Vhy ask that ques-
tion, Socrates?SOC. I'll tell you. I think I've becn lucky ro meet a real
godsend in you. CAL. Why so? SOC. BecauseI well know that should you
agreewith me in the things my soul believcs, they are then the very truth.
For I think that whoever is to test a soul sulliciently about correctnessof
life or the lack ofit needs three things, ofwhich you have: knowlege, kind
regard, and fiankness [ncrpprloiu]." 486a487a; R. E. Allen translation.
F T A R L E S SS P E E C H
sort and harmonizewith each other. Such a man is exact-
ly what I understandby "musical"-he has tuned himself
with the fairest harmony,not that of a lyre or other enter-
taining instrument, but has made a true concord of his
own life between his words and his deeds, not in the
Ionian, no, nor in the Phrygian nor in the Lydian, but
simply in the Dorian mode, which is the sole Hellenic
harmony. Such a man makes me reioice with his utter-
ance,and anyonewould iudge me then a lover of discus-
sion, so eagerlydo I take in what he says:but a man who
showsthe opposite charactergives me pain, and the bet-
ter he seemsto speak, the more I am pained, with the
result,in this case,that I am judgeda haterofdiscussion.
Now of Socrates'wordsI have no experience'but former-
ly, I fancy, I have made trial of his deeds; and there
I found him living up to any fine words however freely
spoken.So if he hasthat gift aswell, his wish is mine, and
I should be very glad to be cross-examinedby such a man,
and should not chafeat learnins.62
As you can see,this speechin part answersthe question of
how to determine the visible criteria, the personal qualities,
which entitle Socratesto assume the role of the basanos
of other people's lives. From information given at the begin-
ning of the Lacheswe have learned that by the dramatic date
ofthe dialogue,Socratesis not very well known, that he is not
regardedas an eminent citizen, that he is younger than Nicias
and Laches,and that he has no specialcompetencein the field
of military training-with this exception: he exhibited great
62.Plato.Laches. Tians. V/. R. M. Lamb, l88c-189a.
 MichelFoucault
courage in the battle at Delium6s where Laches was the com-
manding general. Why, then, would two famous and older
generalssubmit to Socrates'cross-examinations? Laches,who
is not as interested in philosophical or political discussions,
and who prefers deedsto words throughout the dialogue (in
contrast to Nicias), gives the answer.For he saysthat there is
a harmonic relation betweenwhat Socratessaysand what he
does, between his words (logoi) and his deeds(erga).Thus not
only is Socrateshimself able to give an accountof his own life,
such an account is already visible in his behavior since rhere
is not the slightestdiscrepancybetweenwhat he saysand what
he does. He is a "mousihosaner" fltor)rrxoç cwrlp]. In Greek
culture, and in most of Plato's other dialogues,the phrase
"mousikos aner" denotes a person who is devoted to the
Muses-a cultured person of the liberal arts. Here the phrase
refersto someonewho exhibits a kind of ontological harmony
where the /ogosand àlosof such a person is in harmonic accord.
And this harmonic relation is also a Dorian harmony.
As you know, there were four kinds of Greek harmony:6a
the Lydian mode which Plato dislikes because it is too
solemn; the Phrygian mode which Plato associateswirh the
passions;the Ionian mode which is too soft and effeminatel
and the Dorian mode which is courageous.
The harmony between word and deed in Socrates'life is
Dorian, and was manifested in the courage he showed at
Delium. This harmonic accord is what distinguishes Socrates
from a sophist: the sophist can give very fine and beautiful dis-
courseson courage,but is not courageoushimself. This accord
63.Cf.Plato,Symposium,22la-b;Laches,l8lb,189b.
64.Cf.Plato,Republic,Ill,3g8c-399e;
Aristotle,Polildcs,
VIII, 7.
F E A R L E s sS P E E c H
is also why Laches can say of Socrates:"I found him living up
to any fine words however freely spoken []"ô^pv Kci tdo-nç
'[oppnotc[q]." Socratesis able to use rational, ethically valu-
able, fine, and beautiful discourse; but unlike the sophist, he
canusepanhesia and speakfreely becausewhat he saysaccords
exactly with what he thinks, and what he thinks accordsexact-
ly with what he does. And 5e $sç1x1s5-u'ho is truly free and
courageous---{antherefore function as a parrhesiastic figure.
Just as was the casein the political field, the parrhesiastic
figure ofSocratesalso disclosesthe truth in speaking,is coura-
geousin his life and in his speech,and confronts his listener's
opinion in a critical manner. But Socratic panhesin differs
from political pathesi.ain a number of ways. It appearsin
a personalrelationship betweentwo human beings,and not in
rhe panhesiastes'relationto the demosor the king' And in addi-
tion to the relationshipswe noticed between/ogos,truth, and
couragein politicalpanhesia,with Socratesa new elementnow
emerges, viz., bios.Bros is the focus of Socratic panhesia. On
Socrates'or the philosopher's side, the bios-logos relation is
a Dorian harmony which grounds Socrates' parrhesiastic role,
and which, at the same time, constitutesthe visible criterion
for his function as the basanosor touchstone.On the inter-
locutor's side, the biovlogosrelation is disclosed when the
interlocutor gives an account of his life' and its harmony test-
ed by contactwith Socrates.Since he possesses in his relation
to truth all the qualities that need to be disclosed in the inter-
locutor, Socratescan test the relation to truth ofthe interlocu-
tor's existence.The aim of this Socraticparrhesiasticactivity'
then, is to lead the interlocutor to the choice of that kind of
life (bioù that will be in Dorian-harmonic accord with /ogos,
virtue, courage,and truth.
In Euripides' Ion we saw the problematizarion of panhcsia
 [,4ichelFoucault F E A R L E s sS P E E c B

in the form of a game between /ogos,trurh, and.genos(birth) in

the oracular deity at Delphi,6sviz., Apollo-the samegod who
the relations between the gods and mortalsl and Ion's parrhesi_
kept silent in lon. And just as Apollo's oracle was open to all
astic role was grounded in a mythical genealogy descended
who wished to consult it, so Socratesoffered himself up to
from Athens: parhesia was the civic right of the wel-born cir_
anyoneas a questioner.66 The Delphic oraclewas also so enig-
izen of Athens. In the realm of political institutions rhe prob_
matic and obscurethat one could not understand it without
lematization of panhesiainvolved a game between logos,truth,
knowing what sort of question one was asking,and what kind
and tnmos (law); and the parhesiasreswas needed to disclose
of meaning the oracular pronouncement could take in one's
those truths which would ensure the salvation or welfare of the
life. Similarly, Socrates'discourserequires thât one overcome
crty.Parrhesiahere was the personal quality ofa courageousora-
self-ignoranceabout one's own situation. But, ofcourse, there
tor and political leader,or the personal quality ofan advisor to
are maior differences.For example, the oracle foretold what
the king. And now with Socratesthe problemarization of par_
would happen to you, whereas Socraticpanhesiameans to dis-
rhesiatakes the form of a game between /ogos,truth, and,bbs
closewho you are-not your relation to future events,but your
(life) in the realm of a personal teaching relarion between rwo
presentrelation to truth.
human beings. And the rruth rhat the parrhesiastic discourse
I do not mean to imply that there is any strict chronolog-
disclosesis rhe trurh of someone,slife, i.e., the kind of relation
ical progressionamong the various forms of panheslawe have
someonehas to truth: how he constituteshimself as someone
noted. Euripides died in 407 B.C. and Socrateswas put to
who has to know the truth through mathesis,and how this rela_
death in 399 B.C. In ancient culture the continuation of ideas
tion to truth is ontologically and ethically manifest in his own
and themes is also more pronounced. And we are also quite
life. Panhesia, in turn, becomes an ontological characteristic
limited in the number of documentsavailablefrom this peri-
of thebasarns,whoseharmonic relation to truth can function as
od. So there is no precise chronology.The forms of panhesia
a touchstone.The obiective of the cross-examinationsSocrates
we seein Euripides did not generatea very long tradition. And
conducts in his role ofthe touchstone, then, is to test the spe-
as the Hellenistic monarchies grew and developed,political
cilic relation to truth of the other's existence.
panhesiaincreasinglyassumedthe form of a personalrelation
In Euripides' fon, parrhesia was opposed to Apollo's
betweenthe monarch and his advisors,thereby coming closer
silence; in the political sphere parhesia was opposed to the
to the Socratic form. Increasedemphasiswas placed on the
demos'will, or to those who flatter the desiresof the majority
royal art of statesmanshipand the moral educationof the king.
or the monarch. In this third, Socratic-philosophicalgame,
And the Socratic type of panhesiahad a long radition through
panhesiais opposedto self-ignoranceand the false teachings of
the Cynics and other Socratic Schools. So the divisions are
the sophists.
almost contemporary when they appear,but the historical
Socrates' role as a basanosappears very clearly in the
Laches; but in other Platonic rexrs-the Apolop, for exam_
polog,2la-21b,33c.
65.Cf.Plato,..4
ple-this role is presentedas a mission assignedto Socratesby
66.Ibid.,1lb.
 MichelFoucault
destiniesof the three are not the same.
In Plato, and in what we know of Socratesthrough Plato,
a maior problem concerns the attempt to determine how to
bring the politicalpanhesia involving logos,truth, and rromosso
that it coincides with the ethical panhesia involving /ogos,
truth, and bios.How can philosophical trurh and moral virtue
relate to the city through the nomos?You seethis issue in the
Apologt, the Crito, the Republic, and in the Laws. There is
a very interesting text in the Laws, for example, where Plato
says that even in the city ruled by good laws there is still
a need for someone who will usepanhesia to tell the citizens
what moral conduct they must observe.6T Plato distinguishes
between the Guardians of the Laws and the parthesiasfes, who
does not monitor the application of the laws, but, like
Socrates,speaksthe truth about the good of the city, and gives
advicefrom an ethical,philosophicalstandpoint.And, asfar as
I knoq it is the only text in Plato where the one who usespdr-
rhesiais a kind of political figure in the field of the law.
In the Cynic tradition, which also derives from Socrates,
the problematic relation belween nomosand àioswill become a
direct opposition.For in this tradition, the Cynic philosopher
is regardedas the only one capableof assumingthe role of the
67. Plato writes: "...there are other matters which make no small differ-
ence, about which it is diffrcult to be persuasive, and which are in fact the
task of the god, if it were somehow possible to get the orders themselves
from him; as things stand now, what is required, in all probability, is some
daring human being, who by giving unusual honor to oulspokenness [par-
rhesial wlll say what in his opinion is best for the city and the citizens.
Speaking before an audience ofcormpt souls, he will order what is fitting
and becoming to the whole political regime; opposing the greatest desires,
and having no human ally, all alone will he follow reason alone." [Ifte
laæs. Tians. Thomas L. Pangle, Book VIII,835c1
tEARLEss SPEEcH
And, as we shall see in the caseof Diogenes' he
parhesiastes.
must adopt a permanentnegativeand critical attitude towards
any kind of political institution, and towards any kind of
nomos.
The last time we met we analyzed some texts from Plato's
Lacheswhere we saw the emergence'with Socrates,of a new
previous
"philosophic al" panhesia very different from the
fbrms we examined.6s In the Lacheswe had a game with five
main players.Two of them, Lysimachus and Melesius, were
well-born Athenian citizens from noble houses who were
unable to assumea parrhesiasticrole-for they did not know
how to educatetheir own children. So they turned to a gener-
al and a political statesman'Lachesand Nicias, who were also
unable to play the role of panhesiastes'Laches and Nicias, in
turn, were obliged to appealfor help to Socrates,who appears
'We
as the real parrhesiasticfigure' see in these transitional
movesa successivedisplacement of the parrhesiasticrole from
the well-born Athenian and the political leader-who former-
ly possessed the role-to the philosopher,Socrates'Tâking the
Lachesas our point ofdeparture' we can now observein Greco-
Roman culture the rise and developmentof this new kind of
panhesinwhich, I think, can be characterized as follows'
First, thisparrhesiaisphilosophical,and hasbeen put into
practicefor centuriesby the philosophers'Indeed,a large part
of the philosophical activity that transpired in Greco-Roman
culture required playing certain parrhesiastic games' Very
schematically,I think that this philosophical role involved
three types of parrhesiastic activity, all of them related to one
*O,n 1983.
Lecture:2l November
 MichelFoucault
another.(l) Insofar as the philosopher had to discover and to
teachcertain truths about the world, nature, etc., he assumed
an epistemicrole. (2) Tàking a stand towardsthe city, the laws,
political institutions, and so on, required, in addition, a polit-
ical role. (3) And parrhesiasticactivity also endeavoredto
elaboratethe nature of the relationships between truth and
one's style of life, or truth and an ethics and aestheticsof the
self.Panhesiaas it appearsin the field ofphilosophical activi-
ty in Greco-Roman culture is not primarily a concept or
theme, but a practicewhich tries to shapethe specific relations
individuals have to themselves.And I think that our own
moral subiectivity is rooted,at leastin part, in thesepractices.
More precisely,I think that the decisivecriterion which iden-
tifres the porrhesiastes is not to be found in his birth, nor in his
citizenship,nor in his intellectual competence,but in the har-
mony which exists between his logosand his àios.
Secondly, the target of this new parhesia is not to per-
suadethe Assembly,but to convince someonethat he must
rakecareof himself and of others; and this meansthat he must
changehk life.This theme of changingone'slife, of conversion,
becomesvery important from the Fourth Century B.C. to the
beginningsofChristianity. It is essentialto philosophicalpar-
rhesiastic practices.Of course conversion is not completely
different from the changeof mind that an orator,using hispar-
ràesrh,wished to bring about when he askedhis fellow citizens
to wake up, to refuse what they previously accepted,or to
accept what they previously refused. But in philosophical
practice the notion of changing one's mind takes on a more
generaland expandedmeaning since it is no longer iust a mat-
ter of altering one's belief or opinion, but of changing one's
style of life, one's relation to others, and one's relation to
oneself.
I L A R L E S sS P E E C H
Thirdly, these new parrhesiasticpractices imply a com-
plex set of connections between the self and truth. For not
only are thesepracticessupposedto endow the individual with
self-knowledge,this self-knowledgein turn is supposedto
grant access to truth and further knowledge. The circle
implied in knowing the truth about oneselfin order to know
the truth is characteristic of parrhesiastic practice since the
F-ourthCentury,and has been one of the problematic enigmas
of \?estern Thought---c.g., as in Descartesor Kant.
And a final point I would like to underscoreabout this
philosophical panhesia is that it has recourse to numerous
techniques quite different from the techniques of persuasive
discoursepreviously utilized; and it is no longer specifically
linked to the agora,or to the king's court, but can now be uti-
lized in numerous diverseplaces.
Txe PnlcncE oF Pannnesn
In this sessionand next week-in the last seminar meeting-
I would like to analyzephilosophicalpanhesiafrom the stand-
point of its prâctices.By the "practice" of panhesiaI mean two
things: First, the luseof panhesio in specific types of human
relationships (which I shall addressthis evening); and sec-
ondly, the proceduresand techniquesemployed in such rela-
tionships (which will be the topic of our last session).
In Human Relationships
Becauseof the lack of time, and to assistin the clarity of the
presentation,I would like to distinguish three kinds of human
relationshipswhich are implied in the use of this new philo-
But, of course,this is only a general schema,
sophicalpanhe,sia.
 MichelFoucaull
for there are severalintermediateforms.
Fftst, panhesraoccurs as an activity in the framework of
small groups of people, or in the context of community life.
Secondlgparrfresincan be seen in human relationships occur-
ing in the framework of public life. And finally, panhesia
occurs in the context of individual personal relationships.
More specifically, we can say that panhesiaas a feature of com-
munity life was highly regarded by the Epicureans; panhesia
as a public activity or public demonstrationwas a significant
aspectof Cynicism, as well as that type of philosophy that was
a mixture of Cynicism and Stoicism; andpanhesi.aas an aspect
of personal relationships is found more frequently either in
Stoicism or in a generalizedor common Stoicism characteris-
tic of such writers as Plutarch.
Communitylife
Although the Epicureans,with the importance they gave to
friendship, emphasized community life more than other
philosophersat this time, nonethelessone can also find some
Stoic groups, as well as Stoic or Stoico-Cynic philosophers,
who actedas moral and political advisorsto variouscirclesand
aristocraticclubs. For example,Musonius Rufus was spiritual
advisor to Nero's cousin, Rubellius Plautus, and his circle;
and the Stoico-Cynic philosopher Demetrius was advisor to
a liberal anti-aristocratic group around Thrasea Paetus.6e
Thrasea Paetus, a Roman senator, committed suicide after
being condemnedto death by the senateduring Nero's reign.
And Demetrius was the r'egisseur, 1 would say, of his suicide.
69. Cf. Michel Foucault, Le Souci de soi, 67-68; Cora E. Lutz, Musonius
Rrfus. l4ff.
, , , 1 1 : j sS p E E c H
So besidesthe community life of the Epicureans there are
othcr intermediate forms. There is also the very interesting
.ase of Epictetus.Epictetus was a Stoic for whom the practice
ol speakingopenly and frankly was also very important. He
I' rlirecteda school about which we know a few things from the
I
Iour surviving volumes of Epictetus' Discourses as recorded by
j
Arrian. \ùte know, for example, that Epictetus' school was
I
locatedat Nicopolis in a permanent structure which enabled
students to share in a real community life.70Public lectures
and teachingsessionswere given wherethe public was invited,
and where individuals could ask questions-although some-
times such individuals were mocked and twitted by the
masters.\ù7ealso know that Epictetus conducredboth public
conversationswith his disciplesin front ofa class,and private
consultationsand interviews. His school was a kind of école
normale for those who wanted to become philosophers or
moral advisors.
So when I tell you that philosophical panhesia occurs as
an activity in three types of relationship,it must be clear that
the forms I have chosenare only guiding examples;the actual
practiceswere, of course)much more complicated and inter-
related.
First, then, the exampleof the Epicurean groups regard-
ing the practice of panhesiain communiry life. Unfortunately,
we know very few things about the Epicurean communiries,
and even less about the parrhesiasticpracticesin rhesecom-
munities-which explains the brevity of my exposirion. But
we do have a texr entirled "llepi ncrppqorûq" [On Frank
Speakingl written by Philodemus (who is recording the lec-
70. Cf. B. L. Hijmans,lskesis: Noteson Epictetus' Educational System.
 lvlichelFoucault
tures [o1ol"cri]of Zeno of Sidon).7tThetext is not completein
its entirety,but the existing manuscript piecescome from the
ruins of the Epicurean library discovered at Herculaneum
near the end of the Nineteenth Century. \7hat has been pre-
served is very fragmentary and rather obscurel and I must con-
fess that without some commentary from the Italian scholar,
Marcello Gigante, I would not have understood much of this
fragmentary Greek text.i2
I would like to underline the following points from this
treatise.
First, Philodemus regardspanhesia not only as a quality,
virtue, or personal attitude' but also as a technecomparable
both to the art of medicine and to the art of piloting a boat.il
As you know, the comparison between medicine and naviga-
tion is a very traditional one in Greek culture. But even with-
out this referenceto panhesin,the comparison of medicine and
navigation is interesting for the following two reasons.
(l) The reason why the pTlot'stechneof navigation is sim-
ilar to the physician's techneof medicine is that in both cases,
the necessarytheoretical knowledge required also demands
practical training in order to be useful. Furthermore, in order
to put thesetechniquesto work' one has to take into account
not only the generalrules and principles of the art, but also
particular data which are alwaysspecific to a given situation.
Ed.A. Olivieri,1914.
flep'tncrppqotc4.
71.Philodemus,
72. Cf. Marcello Gigante, "Philodème: Sur la liberté de parole"; "Motivi
paideutici nell'opera filodemea sulla libertà di parola"; and "'Philosophia
Medicans' in Filodemo."
73. Gigante writes: "Les caractéristiques qui distinguent les technai cro1-
aonror comme la médecine et I'art du nautonier chez Aristote sont les
mêmes que celles qui, chez Zénon-Philodème, définissent la panhcsia"
["Philodème: Sur la liberté de parole," 206].
I | ^kl I ss SpEEcH
One must take into accountthe particular circumstances,and
rrlsowhat the Greeks called the kairos frutp6q], or "the critical
rnoment."74The concept of. the kairos-ràe decisive or crucial
moment or opportunity-has alwayshad a significant role in
(ireek thought for epistemological,moral, and technical rea-
sons.Ts\ù(/hatis of interesthere is that sincePhilodemusis now
associatingpanhesia with piloting and medicine, it is also
being regarded as a technique which deals with individual
cases,specific situations, and the choice of the kairosor deci-
sive moment.76Utilizing our modern vocabulary,we can say
that navigation, medicine, and the practice of.panhesia are all
"clinical techniques."
(2) Another reasonwhy the Greeksoften associatedmed-
icine and navigation is that in the caseofboth techniques,one
person (the pilot or physician) must make the decisions,give
orders and instructions, exercisepower and authority, while
the others-the crew, the patient, the staff-must obey if the
desiredend is to be achieved.Hence navigation and medicine
are also both related to politics. For in politics the choice of
the opportunity, the best moment, is alsocrucial; and someone
74. ln the Nicomachaen Ethirs Aristotle writes: ". . . matters concerned with
conduct and questions ofwhat is good for us have no fixity, any more than
matters ofhealth. The general account being ofthis nature, the account of
particular casesis yet more lacking in exactness;for they do not fall under
any art or set of precepts,but the agentsthemselvesmust in each casecon-
sider what is appropriate to the occasion [npôç tôu rorpôv], as happens
rulsoin the art of medicine or of navigation." [Tians. \f. D. Ross, 1104a4-9]
75. Cf. Michel Foucault, -LUsagedes plaisirs,6S-70.
76. Fragment 226 of Democritus also associates parhesia with kairos:
''.r\nrov
èÀfl-r0epir1çnappqor4, Éuôuvoç ôb fi rori rcrrpoÛ ôrct.lvtrrorç"
1"I;reedomofspeech is the sign offreedom; but the danger lies in discern-
rng the right occasion"-K. Freeman translation]. Cf. Hermann Diels, Dæ
l;rdgmenteder Vorsohratiher,Vol. l, 190.
 l,4ichelFoucault
is also supposed to be more competent than the others-and
therefore has the right to give the orders that the others must
obey.7?In politics, then, there are indispensible techniques
which lie at the root of statesmanshipconsideredas the art of
governing people.
If I mention this ancient affinity between medicine, nav-
igation, and politics, it is in order to indicate that with the
addition of the parrhesiastic techniques of "spiritual guid-
ance," a corpus ofinterrelated clinical technaiwas constituted
during the Hellenistic period. Of course,the techneof piloting
or navigationis primarily of metaphoricalsignificance.. But an
analysisof the various relations which Greco-Romanculture
believedexisted betweenthe three clinical activities of medi-
cine, politics, and the practiceof panhesiawould be important'
Several centuries later, Gregory of Nazianzus [c. A.D.
329-3891would call spiritual guidancethe "technique oftech-
niques"-"crs artium," "technetechnon"[tê1vr1 tê1vtov]. This
expressionis signifi cant since statesmanshipor political techne
was previously regarded ^s the technetechnonor the Royal Art.
But from the Fourth Century A.D. to the SeventeenthCentury
in Europe, the expression"technetechnon"usually refers to
spiritual guidance as the most significant clinical technique.
This characterizationof panhesiaas atechnein relation to med-
icine, piloting, and politics is indicative of the transformation
of panhesiainto a philosophicalpractice.From the physician's
art of governing patients and the king's art of governing the
city and its subjects,we move to the philosopher'sart of gov-
erning himself and acting as a kind of "spiritual guide" for
other people.
77.Cf. Aristotle,Politis, 1124b29.
F E A R L E S SS P E Ê c H
Another aspect of Philodemus' text concerns the refer-
encesit contains about the sructure of the Epicurean com-
munities; but commentalors on Philodemus disagreeabout
the exact form, complexity, and hierarchical organization of
such communities. Derùflittthinks that the existing hierarchy
was very well-established and complex; whereas Gigante
thinks that it was much simpler.TsIt seemsthat there were at
least two categoriesof teachersand two types of teaching in
the Epicurean schoolsand groups.
There was "classroom" teaching where a teacheraddressed
a group of students; and there was also instruction in the form
of personal interviews where a teacher would give advice and
precepts to individual community members. Vhereas the
lower-ranked teachers only taught classes, the higher-level
teachersboth taught classesand gavepersonal interviews. Thus
a distinction was drawn between generalteaching and personal
instruction or guidance. This distinction is not a difference in
content, as between theoretical and practical subject matters-
especiallysince studies in physics, cosmology,and natural law
had ethical significancefor the Epicureans.Nor is it a difference
in instruction contrasting ethical theory with its practical appli-
cation. Rather the difference marks a distinction in the peda-
gogical relationship between teacherand disciple or student. In
the Socratic situation, there was one procedure which enabled
the interlocutor to discoverthe truth about himself,the relation
of his ôlosto logos;and this same procedure, at the same time,
78. Cf. Norman De\ùtitt, "Organization and Procedure in Epicurean
Groups," "Epicurean Contubernium," and, Epicunts and His Philosophy
[Chapter V: The New School in Athens]; Marcello Gigante, "Filodemo
sulla libertà di parola," and "Motivi paideutici nell'opera filodemea sulla
libertà di parola."
 [ , 4 i c h eFl o u c a u l t
also enabled him to gain accessto additional truths (about
the world, ideas,the nature of the soul, and so on)- \7ith the
Epicurean schools,however,there is the pedagogicalrelation of
guidance where the master helps the disciple to discover the
truth about himself; but there is now, in addition, a form of
"authoritarian" teaching in a collective relation where someone
speaksthe truth to â group ofothers. These two types ofteach-
ing becamea permanent feature of \ùÛestern culture. And in the
Epicurean schoolswe know that it was the role of the "spiritual
guide" for others that was more highly valued that that of group
lecturer.
I do not wish to conclude the discussionof Philodemus'
text without mentioning a practice which they engagedin-
what we might call "mutual confession"in a group. Some of
the fragmentsindicate that there were group sessionsor meet-
ings where each of the community members in turn would
'We
disclose their thoughts, faults, misbehavior, and so on.
know very little about such meetings, but referring to this
practicePhilodemususesan interestingexpression.He speaks
of this practice as "the salvation by one 2\s1hs7"-"1e /i'
allelon sozesthai" lro ôt' crÀ),',1l.rovo{t(eo0crt].?'gThe word
sozesthai-to saveoneselÊ-in the Epicurean tradition means
to gain accessto a good, beautiful, and happy life. It doesnot
refer to any kind of afterlife or divine ludgment. [n one'sown
salvation,other members of the Epicurean community [The
Garden] have a decisive role to play as necessaryagents
enabling one to discoverthe truth about oneself,and in help-
ing one to gain accessto a happy life. Hence the very impor-
79. Philodemus, flepi ncrpprloicrç, Fragment 36' 17; cf. Foucault,
Le Souci de soi,67.
| | ^HL€ss SPEECH
tant emphasison friendship in the Epicurean groups.
Publiclife
Now I would like to move on to the pracrice of panhesiain
public life through the example of the Cynic philosophers.
In the caseof the Epicureancommunities, we know very little
about their style of life but have some idea of their doctrine as
it is expressedin various texts. tù(riththe Cynics the situation
is exactly reversedl for we know very little about Cynic doc-
trine-even if there everwas such an explicit doctrine. But we
do possessnumerous testimoniesregarding the Cynic way of
life. And there is nothing surprising about this stateof affairs;
for even though Cynic philosophers wrore books just like
other philosophers,they were far more interestedin choosing
and practicing a certain way of life.
A historical problem concerningthe origin ofCynicism is
this. Most of the Cynics from the First Century B.C. and
thereafter refer to either Diogenes or Antisthenes as the
founder ofthe Cynic philosophy; and through thesefounders
of Cynicism they relate rhemselvesback to the teachingsof
Socrates.s0 According to Farrand Sayrersrhowever,the Cynic
Sect appearedonly in the SecondCentury 8.C., or two cen-
turies after Socrates'death.tÙtemight be a bit skepticalabout
a traditional explanation given for the rise of the Cynic
Sects-an explanation which has been given so often to
account for so many other phenomena-but it is that Cyni-
cism is a negative form of aggressiveindividualism which
arosewith the collapseof the political structuresof the ancient
80. Cf. DiogenesLaertius, VI, 2.
8I . Cf. Farrand Sayre,Diogenesof Sinope,A Study of GreekCynicism.

l \ 4 i c h eFl o u c a u l t
world. A more interesting account is given by Sayre, who
explains the appearanceof the Cynics on the Greek philo-
sophicalsceneas a consequence of expandingconquestsof the
Macedonian Empire. More specifically, he notes that with
Alexander'sconquestsvarious Indian philosophies-especial-
ly the monastic and asceticteachingsof Indian Sectslike the
Gymnosophists-becamemore familiar to the Greeks.
Regardlessof what we can determine about the origins of
Cynicism, it is a fact that the Cynics were very numerous and
influential from the end of the First Century B.C. to the
Fourth Century A.D. Thus in A.D. 165 Lucian, who did not
like the Cynics, writes: "The city s\ryarmswith these vermin,
particularly those who profess the tenets of Diogenes,
Antisthenes, and Crates."82It seems,in fact, that the self-
styled"Cynics" were so numerousthat Emperor Julian, in his
attempt to revive classicalGreek culture, wrote a lampoon
againstthem scorning their ignorance,their coarseness, and
portraying them as a danger for the Empire and for Greco-
Roman culture.srOne of the reasonswhy Julian treated the
Cynics so harshly was their general resemblanceto the early
Christians.And some of the similarities may have been more
than mere superficial resemblance.For example,Peregrinus (a
well known Cynic at the end of the SecondCentury A.D.) was
considereda kind of saint by his Cynic followers,especiallyby
those who regarded his death as a heroic emulation of the
deathof Heracles[Hercules].To display his Cynic indifference
[ôôrdQopia] to death, Peregrinuscommitted suicide by cre-
mating himself immediately following the Olympic Gamesof
A.D. 167. Lucian, who witnessedthe event, gives a satirical,
82. Lucian. "The Runawavs." Tians. A. M. Harmon. I16.
83. Cf. Julian, "To the Uneducated Cynics."
I | ^ k L r s sS p E E c H
tlerisive account.s4Julian was also disappointed that the
Oynics were not able to representancient Greco-Romancul_
ture, for he hoped that there would be something like a popu_
lar philosophical movement which would compete with
Christianity.
The high value which the Cynics attributed ro a person's
way of life doesnot mean that they had no interest in theoret_
ical philosophy, but reflecrs their view that the manner in
which a person lived was a touchstone of his relation to
truth-as we saw was also the casein the Socratic tradition,
The conclusion they drew from this Socratic idea, however,
was that in order to proclaim the truths they acceptedin a
manner that would be accessibleto everyone,they thought
that their teachingshad to consisr in a very public, visible,
spectacular,provocative) and sometimes scandalousway of
life. The Cynics thus raught by way of examplesand the expla_
nations associatedwith them. They wanted their own lives to
be a blazon of essentialtruths which would then serve as a
guideline, or as an example for others to follow. But there is
nothing in this Cynic emphasison philosophy as an art of life
which is alien to Greek philosophy. So even if we accept
Sayre'shlpothesis abour the Indian philosophical influence
on Cynic doctrine and practice, we must still recognizethat
the Cynic attirude is, in its basic form, just an extremely radi_
cal version of the very Greek conception of the relationship
between one's way of life and knowledge of the truth. The
Cynic idea rhar a person is nothing else but his relation to
truth, and that this relation to truth takes shape or is given
Ibrm in his own life--that is completely Greek.
s.l. Cf. Lucian, "The Passing of peregrinus."
 MichelFoucault
In the Platonic, Aristotelian, and Stoic traditions,
philosophers referred mainly to a doctrine, text, or at least to
some theoretical principles for their philosophy. In the Epi-
cureantradition, the followersofEpicurus refer both to a doc-
trine and also to the personalexampleset by Epicurus,whom
every Epicurean tried to imitate. Epicurus originated the doc-
trine and wasalso a personilicationof it. But now in the Cynic
tradition, the main referencesfor the philosophy are not to the
texts or doctrines, but to exemplary lives. Personal examples
were also important in other philosophical schools,but in the
Cynic movement-where there were no established texts, no
settled, recognizable doctrine-reference was always made to
certain real or mythical personalities who were taken to be the
sourcesof Cynicism as a mode of life. Such personalitieswere
rhe starting point for Cynic reflection and commentary. The
mythical characters referred to included Heracles [Hercules],
Odysseus[Ulysses],and Diogenes. Diogenes was an actual,
historical figure, but his life became so legendary that he
developedinto a kind of myth as anecdotes,scandals,etc.,
were added to his historical life. About his actual life we do not
know all that much, but it is clear that he becamea kind of
philosophical hero. Plato, Aristorle, Zeno of Citium, et al.,
were philosophical authors and authorities, for example;but
they were not consideredheroes.Epicurus was both a philo-
sophicalauthor and treatedby his followers as a kind ofhero.
But Diogenes was primarily a heroic figure. The idea that
a philosopher'slife should be exemplaryand heroic is impor-
tant in understanding the relationship of Cynicism to
Christianity, as well as for understanding Cynic panhesia as
a public activity.
I r ^Rl ESSSPE€cH
This brings us to Cynicpanhesia.s5 The three main types
of parrhesiasticpractice utilized by the Cynics were: (l) criti-
cal preaching; (2) scandalousbehavior; and (3) what I shall
call the "provocativedialogue."
First, the critical preaching of the Cynics. Preaching is
a form of continuous discourse.And, as you know, most of the
early philosophers-especially the Stoics-would occasionally
deliver speecheswhere they presented their doctrines.
Usually,however,they would lecture in front of a rather small
audience.The Cynics, in contrast,disliked this kind of elitist
exclusionand preferredto addressa largecrowd. For example,
they liked to speakin a theater,or at a placewhere peoplehad
gatheredfor a feast,religious event,athletic contest,etc. They
would somelimesstand up in the middle of a theater audience
and deliver a speech.This public preachingwas not their own
innovation, for we have testimonies of similar practices as
early as the Fifth Century B.C. Someof the Sophistswe seein
the Platonic dialogues,for example,also engagein preaching
to some extent. Cynic preaching,however,had its own specif-
ic characteristics, and is hisrorically significant since it
enabled philosophical themes about one's way of life to
becomepopular, i.e., to come to the attention of people who
stood outside the philosophical elect. From this perspective,
Cynic preaching about freedom, the renunciation of luxury,
Cynic criticisms of political institutions and existing moral
codes, and so on, also opened the way for some Christian
themes.But Christian proselytesnot only spokeabout themes
which were often similar to the Cynics; they also took over the
practiceofpreaching.
85. Cf. Giuseppe Scarpat, Parrlresis, 62-69 lLa panhesia cinical.
 lvlichelFoucault
Preaching is still one of the main forms of truth-telling
practicedin our society,and it involves the ideâ that the truth
must be told and taught not only to the best membersof the
society,or to an exclusivegroup, but to everyone.
There is, however,very little positive doctrine in Cynic
preaching: no direct affirmation of the good or bad. Instead,
the Cynics refer to freedom (eleutheia) and self-sufficiency
(autarkeia)as the basic criteria by which to assessany kind of
behavior or mode of life. For the Cynics, the main condition
for human happinessis autarhein,self-sufficiencyor indepen-
dence,where what you need to have or what you decideto do
is dependenton nothing other than you yourself. As a conse-
quence-since the Cynics had the most radical of attitudes-
they preferreda completelynatural life-style.A natural life was
supposedto eliminate all of the dependenciesintroduced by
culture,society,civilization, opinion, and so on. Consequently,
most of their preaching seems to have been directed against
social institutions, the arbitrarinessof rules of law, and any
sort oflife-style that was dependentupon such institutions or
laws. In short, their preaching was against all social institu-
tions insofar as such institutions hindered one's freedom and
independence.
Cynic panhesla also had recourse to scandalousbehavior
or attitudeswhich called into questioncollectivehabits, opin-
ions, standards of decency, institutional rules, and so on.
Severalprocedureswere used.One of them was the inversion
of roles, as can be seen from Dio Chrysostom's Fourth
Discourse where the famous encounter between Diogenes and
Alexander is depicted. This encounter, which was often
referredto by the Cynics, doesnot take place in the privacy of
Alexander's court but in the street' in the open. The king
stands up while Diogenes sits back in his barrel. Diogenes
I ranrrss Speecx
ordersAlexander to step out ofhis light so that he can bask in
the sun. Ordering Alexander to step aside so that the sun's
light can reach Diogenes is an affirmation of the direct and
natural relation the philosopher has to the sun, in contrast to
the mythical genealogywhereby the king, as descendedfrom
a god, was supposedto personify the sun.
The Cynics also employed the technique of displacing or
transposinga rule from a domain where the rule was accepted
to a domain where it was not in order to show how arbitrary
the rule was. Once, during the athletic contests and horse-
racesof the Isthmian festival, Diogenes-who was bothering
everyonewith his frank remarks-took a crown of pine and
put it on his head as if he had been victorious in an athletic
competition. And the magistrateswere very happy about this
gesturebecausethey thought it was,at last, a good occasionto
punish him, to excludehim, to get rid of him. But he explained
that he placed a crown upon his head becausehe had won
a much more difficult victory against poverty, exile, desire,
and his own vices than athletes who were victorious in
wrestling,running, and hurling a discus.86 And later on during
the games, he saw two horsesfighting and kicking each other
until one of them ran off. So Diogenes went up and put
a crown on the headof the horsewho stood its ground.87These
two symmetrical displacementshave the effect of raising the
question:Iflhat are you really doing when you award someone
with a crown in the Isthmian games?For if the crown is
awardedto someoneas a moral victory then Diogenes deserves
a crown. But if it is only a question of superior physical
86.Cf.Dio Chrystosom,
"TheNinth or IsthmianDiscourse,"
10-13.
87.Ibid..22.

MichelFoucault
strength,then there is no reasonwhy the horse should not be
given a crown.
Cynic panhesia in its scandalousaspectsalso utilized the
practiceofbringing togethertwo rules ofbehavior which seem
contradictory and remote from one another. For example,
regarding the problem of bodily needs.You eat. There is no
scandalin eating, so you can eat in public (although, for the
Greeks, this is not obvious and Diogenes was sometimes
reproached for eating in the agora). Since Diogenes ate in the
agma,he thought that there was no reasonwhy he should not
also masturbate in the agora; for in both caseshe was satisfy-
ing a bodily need (adding that "he wished it were as easy
to banish hunger by rubbing the belly").88\(/ell, I will not try
to conceal the shamelessness(anaideia) of the Cynics as a
scandalouspractice or technique.
As you may know, the word "cynic" comes from the
Greek word meaning "dog-like" (kynikoi); and Diogeneswas
called "The Dog." In fact, the first and only contemporary ref-
erence to Diogenes is found in Aristotle's Rhetoric,sewhere
Aristotle does not even mention the name Diogenesbut iust
calls him "The Dog." The noble philosophersof Greece,who
usually comprised an elite group, almost always disregarded
the Cynics.
-: The Cynics also used another parrhesiastictechnique,
viz., the "provocative dialogue." To give you a more precise
example of this type of dialogue-which derives from Socratic
panhesin-I have chosen a passagefrom the Fourth Discourse
88. Cf. Diogenes Laertius, VI, 46, 69; Plutarch, "Stoic Self-Contradic-
tions," 1044b.
89. Aristotle,Rhetoric l),10, l4lla24l: "The Dog called taverns'the mess-
rooms of Attica."'
I r ^Rr ESSSPEECH
on Kingship of Dio Chrysostomof Prusa [c.A.D.4O-ll0].
Do you all know who Dio Chrysostom is? \ù7ell,he is a very
interesting guy from the last half of the First Century and the
beginning of the SecondCentury of our era. He was born at
I'rusa in Asia Minor of a wealthy Roman family who played
a prominent role in the city-life. Dio's family was typical of the
affluent provincial notables that produced so many writers,
officers, generals, sometimes even emperors, for the Roman
Empire. He came to Rome possibly as a professionalrhetori-
cian, but there are some disputes about this. An American
scholar, C.P Jones, has written a very interesting book about
Dio Chrysostom which depicts the social life of an intellectu-
al in the Roman Empire of Dio's time.m In Rome Dio Chrysos-
tom became acquainted with Musonius Rufus, the Stoic
philosopher, and possibly through him he became involved
with some liberal circles generally opposed to personal tyran-
nic power. He was subsequently exiled by Domitian, who dis-
liked his views, and thus he began a wandering life where he
adopted the costume and the attitudes of the Cynics for sever-
al years.tù(/henhe was finally authorized to return to Rome fol-
lowing Domitian's assassination,he started a new career.His
former fortune was returned to him, and he becamea wealthy
and famous teacher.For a while, however,he had the life-style,
the attitude, the habits,and the philosophicalviews of a Cynic
philosopher. But we must keep in mind the fact that Dio
Chrysostom was not a "pure" cynic; and perhaps with his
intellectual backgroundhis depiction ofthe Cynic parrhesias-
tic game puts it closer to the Socratic tradition than most of
the actual Cynic practices.
90.Cf.Christopher
P Jones,TheRonanll/orldofDio Chrysostom.
 À / i c h e lF o u c a u l t
In the Fourth Discourse of Dio Chrysostom I think you
can find all three forms of Cynic panhesia. The end of the
Discourseis a kinci of preaching,and throughout there are ref-
erencesto Diogenes'scandalousbehavior and examplesillus-
trating the provocativedialogue of Diogeneswith Alexander.
The topic of the Discourse is the famous encounter between
Diogenesand Alexander the Great which actually took place
at Corinth. The Discourse begins with Dio's thoughts con-
cerning this meeting [-14]; then a fictional dialoguefollows
portraying the nature of Diogenes'and Alexander'sconversa-
tion [5-81]; and the Discourseends with a long, continuous
discussion-fictionally narrated by Diogenes-regarding
three typesoffaulty and self-deludingstylesoflife [82-139].
At the very beginning of the Discourse, Dio criticizes
those who presentthe meeting of Diogenesand Alexander as
an encounterbetweenequals:one man famous for his leader-
ship and military victories, the other famous for his free and
self-suffrcientlife-style and his austereand naturalistic moral
virtue. Dio does not want people to praise Alexander just
becausehe, as a powerful king, did not disregard a poor guy
like Diogenes.He insists that Alexanderactually feltinferiorto
Diogenes,and was also a bit envious of his reputation; for
unlike Alexander,who wantedto conquer the world, Diogenes
did not need anything to do what he wanted to do:
[Alexander]himself neededhis Macedonianphalanx,his
Thessalian cavalry Thracians, Paeonians,and many
othersif he was to go where he wished and get what he
desired;but Diogeneswent forth unatlendedin perfect
safetyby night as well as by day wherever he cared to go.
Again, he himself requiredhuge sums of gold and silver
to carry out any of his proiects;and what is more, if he
I L A R L E S sS P E Ê c H
expectedto keep the Macedoniansand the other Greeks
submissive, must time and again curry favor of their
rulers and the general populace by words and gifts;
whereasDiogenescaloled no man by flattery but told
everybodythe truth and, even though he possessednot a
singledrachma,succeededin doing as he pleased,failed
in nothing he set before himself,was the only man who
lived the life he considered the best and happiest, and
would not haveacceptedAlexander'sthrone or the wealth
of the Medesand Persiansin exchansefor his own Doverw.el
So it is clear that Diogenesappeârshere as the master of
truth; and from this point of view, Alexander is both inferior
to him and is awareof this inferiority. But although Alexander
hassomevicesand faults ofcharacter,he is not a bad king, and
he choosesto play Diogenes'parrhesiasticgame:
So the king came up to Diogenesas he sat there and
greetedhim, whereasthe other looked up at him with
a terrible glarelike that of a lion and orderedhim to step
asidea little, for Diogeneshappenedto be warming him-
selfin the sun.Now Alexanderwas at oncedelightedwith
the man's boldness and composure in not being
awestruckin his presence.For it is somehownatural for
the courageousto love the courageous,while cowardseye
them with misgivingand hate them as enemies,but wel-
comethe baseand like them. And so to the one classtruth
and franknessft;anhesia)are the most agreeablethings in
91. Dio Chrysostom,
"Fourth Discourseon Kingship," Tians.f. V.
Cohoon,8-10.
 M i c h e lF o u c a u l t
the world,e2to the other, flattery and deceit. The latter
lend a willing ear to thosewho in their intercourseseekto
please,the former,to thosewho haveregardfor the truth.e3
The Cynic parrhesiastic game which begins is, in some
respects, not unlike the Socratic dialogue since there is an
exchangeofquestions and answers.But there are at leastttvo
significant differences. First, in the Cynic parrhesiasticgame
it is Alexanderwho tends to ask the questionsand Diogenes,
the philosopher, who answers-which is the reverse of the
Socratic dialogue. Secondly, whereas Socraresplays with his
interlocutor's ignorance, Diogenes wants to hurt Alexander's
pide. For example,at the beginning of the exchange,Diogenes
calls Alexandera bastard[8] and tells him rhat someonewho
claims to be a king is not so very different from a child who,
after winning a game) puts a crown on his head and declares
that he is king [4749]. Of course,all that is not very pleasant
for Alexander to hear. But that's Diogenes'game: hitting his
interlocutor's pride, forcing him to recognizethat he is not
what he claims to be-which is something quite different from
the Socraticattempt to show someonethat he is ignorant of
what he claims to know. In the Socraticdialogues,you some-
times seethat someone'spride has been hurt when he is com-
pelled to recognizethat he does not know what he claims to
know. For example,when Calliclesis led to an awareness of his
ignorance,he renouncesall discussionbecausehis pride has
been hurt. But this is onlv a side effect.as ir were. of the main
92. Diogenes Laenius notes: "Being asked what was the most beautiful
thing in the world, [Diogenes] replied 'Freedom of speech lganhesia)'"
lvr,69l.
93. Dio Chrysostom,
"Fourth Discourseon Kingship," l4-15.
F E A R L E S sS P E E C H
target of Socraticirony, which is: to show someonethat he is
ignorant of his own ignorance.In the caseof Diogenes,how-
ever, pride is the main target, and the ignorance/knowledge
game is a side effect.
From theseattackson an interlocutor's pride, you seethat
the interlocutor is brought to the limit of the first parrhesias-
tic contract,viz., to agreeto play the game,to chooseto engage
in discussion.Alexander is willing to engageDiogenesin dis-
cussion,to accepthis insolenceand insults, but there is a limit.
And every time that Alexander feelsinsulted by Diogenes,he
becomesangry and is closeto quitting ofl even to brutalizing
Diogenes. So you see that the Cynic parrhesiasticgame is
played at the very limits of the parrhesiasticcontract. It bor-
ders on transgressionbecausethe panhesiastesmay have made
too many insulting remarks.Here is an exampleof this play at
the limit of the parrhesiasticagreementto engagein discus-
sion:
... [Diogcnes]went on to tell the king that he did not even
p o s s e stsh e b a d g eo f r o y a l t y . . . ' A n dw h a t b a d g ei s t h a t ? "
said Alexander."It is the badgeof the bees,"he replied,
"that the king wears.Have you not heard that there is
a king among the bees,made so by nature,who doesnot
hold office by virtue of what you peoplewho trace your
descentfrom Heraclescall inheritance?""Vhat is this
badge?"inquired Alexander."Have you not heard farm-
erssay,"askedthe other,"that this is the only beethat has
no sting,sincehe requiresno weaponagainstanyone?For
no other bee will challengehis right to be king or fight
him when he has this badge.I havean idea,however,that
you not only go about fully armed but evensleepthat way.
Do you not know," he continued,"that it is a sign of fear
 M i c h e lF o u c a u l t
in a man for him to carry arms?And no man who is afraid
would ever have a chanceto becomeking any more than
a slavewould."e4
Diogenesreasons:if you beararms,you are afraid. No one
who is afraid can be a king. So, sinceAlexander bearsarms he
cannot be a real king. And, of course, Alexander is not very
pleased by this logic, and Dio continues: 'At these words
Alexander came near hurling his spear." That gesture, of
course)would have been the rupture, the transgression,of the
parrhesiastic game. When the dialogue arrives at this point,
there are two possibilities availableto Diogenes for bringing
Alexander back into the game. One way is the following.
Diogenes says, in effect, "\ù7ell, alright. I know that you are
outraged and you are also free. You have both the ability and
the legal sanction to kill me. But will you be courageous
enough to hear the truth from me, or are you such a coward
that you must kill me?" And, for example, after Diogenes
insults Alexanderat one point in the dialogue,he tells him:
" . . . I n v i e w o f w h a t I s a y ,r a g ea n d p r a n c ea b o u t . . .a n d
think me the greatestblackguardand slanderme to the
world and, if it be your pleasure,run me through with
your spear;for I am the only man from whom you will get
the truth, and you will learn it from no one else.For all
are lesshonestthan I am and more servile."es
*à, uruo.
95.Ibià.,58-59
96.Ibin., 18-20.
r nrr tss Spttct
Diogenes thus voluntarily angers Alexander, and then
says,"Vell, you can kill me; but if you do so, nobody elsewill
tcll you the truth." And there is an exchange,a new parrhesi-
astic contract is drawn up with a new limit imposed by
l)iogenes: either you kill me, or you'll know the truth. This
kind of courageous"blackmailing" of the interlocutor in the
name of truth makes a positive impression upon Alexander:
"Then was Alexander amazed at the courage and fearlessness
of the man" [76]. So Alexander decidesto stây in the game,
and a new agreementis thereby achieved.
Another meansDiogenesemploysfor bringing Alexander
back into the gameis more subtle than the previouschallenge:
Diogenes also uses trickery. This trickery is different from
Socratic ironyl for, as you all know, in Socratic irony, Socrates
feigns to be as ignorant as his interlocutor so that his inter-
locutor will not be ashamedof disclosing his own ignorance,
and thus not reply to Socrates'questions.That, at least, was
the principle of Socratic irony. Diogenes' trick is somewhat
different; for at the moment when his interlocutor is about to
terminate the exchange,Diogenes sayssomething which his
interlocutor believes is complimentary. For example, after
Diogenescalls Alexander a bastard-which was not very well-
receivedby Alexander-Diogenes tells him:
"...is it not Olympias who said that Philip is not your
father,as it happens,but a dragon or Ammon or somegod
or other or demigodor wild animal?And yet in that case
you would certainly be a bastard." Thereupon Alexander
smiled and was pleasedas never before, thinking that
Diogenes,so far from being rude, was the most tactful of
men and the only one who really knew how to pay a com-
pliment.e6
 l\ilichelFoucault
\ùflhereasthe Socratic dialogue traces an intricate and
winding path from an ignorant understanding to an awareness
of ignorance, the Cynic dialogue is much more like a fight,
a battle, or a war, with peaksof great aggressivityand moments
of peaceful calm-peaceful exchanges which, of course, are
additional traps for the interlocutor. In the Fourth Discourse
Dio Chrysostomexplainsthe rationale behind this strategyof
mixing aggressivityand sweetness;DiogenesasksAlexander:
"Have you not heard the Libyan myrh?"e7And the king
replied that he had not. Then Diogenestold it to him
with zest and charm, becausehe wanted to put him in
a good humor, just as nurses,after giving the children a
whipping, tell them a story to comfort and pleasethem.e8
And a bit further on. Dio adds:
When Diogenes perceived that [Alexander] was greatly
excited and quite keyed up in mind with expectancy,he
toyed with him and pulled him about in the hope that
somehowhe might be moved from his pride and thirst for
glory and be able to soberup a little. For he noticedthat
at one moment he was delighted,and at anothergrieved,
at the samething, and that his soulwasasunsettledasthe
weather at the solsticeswhen both rain and sunshine
come from the very samecloud.ee
Diogenes' charm, however,is only a meansof advancing
97.Cf.Dio Chrysostom,
"The Fifth Discourse:
A LibyanMyth."
98.Dio Chrysostom,
"The FourthDiscourseon Kingship,"73-74.
99.Ibid.,77-78.
F E A R L E S SS P E E c H
the game and of preparing the way for additional aggressive
exchanges.Thus, after Diogenes pleasesAlexander with his
remarks about his "bastard" genealogy,and considers the pos-
sibility that Alexander might be the son of Zeus, he goeseven
further: he tells Alexander that when Zeus has a son, he gives
his son marks of his divine birth. Of course,Alexander thinks
that he has such marks. Alexander then asks Diogenes how
one can be a good king. And Diogenes' reply is a purely moral
portrayal ofkingship:
"No one can be a bad king any more than he can be a bad
good man; for the king is the bestone among men, since
he is most brave and righteousand humane,and cannot
be overcomeby any toil or by any appetite. Or do you
think a man is a charioteerif he cannotdrive. or that one
is a pilot if he is ignorant of steering,or is a physician if
he knows not how to cure?It is impossible,nay,though all
the Greeksand barbariansacclaimhim as such and load
him with diademsand sceptresand tiaras like so many
necklacesthat are put on castawaychildren lest they fail
of recognition.Therefore,just as one cannot pilot except
after the manner of pilots, so no one can be king exceptin
a kingly way."roo
\ù7eseehere the analogy of statesmanshipwith navigation
and medicine that we have already noted. As the "son of
Zeus," Alexander thinks that he has marks or signs to show
that he is a king with a divine birth. But Diogenes shows
Alexander that the truly royal character is not linked to special
t00.Ibid..24-25.
 l \ 4 i c h eFl o u c a u l t
status, birth, power, and so on. Rather, the only way of being
a true king is to behave like one. And when Alexander asks
how he might learn this art of kingship, Diogenes tells him
that it cannot be learned,for one is noble by nature
t26_311.
Here the game reachesa point where Alexander does not
becomeconsciousof his lack of knowledge, as in a Socratic
dialogue.He discovers,instead,that he is not in any way what
he thought he was-viz., a king by royal birth, with marks of
his divine status,or king becauseofhis superior power, and so
on. He is brought to a point where Diogenestells him that the
only way to be a real king is to adopt rhe same type of ethosas
the Cynic philosopher.And at this point in the exchangerhere
is nothing more for Alexander to say.
In the caseof Socraticdialogue,it alsosometimeshappens
that when the person Socrateshas been questioning no longer
knows what to say,Socratesresumesthe discourse by present_
ing a positive thesis, and then the dialogue ends. In this text
by Dio Chrysostom,Diogenesbegins a continuous discourse;
however,his discussiondoesnot presentthe truth ofa positive
thesis, but is content to give a precise description of three
faulty modes of life linked ro the royal characrer.The first one
is devoted to wealth, the second to physical pleasure,and the
third to glory and political power. And these three life_styles
are personified by three daimonesor spirits.
The concept of the daimon was popular in Greek culture,
and also became a philosophical concept-in plutarch, for
example. The fight against evil daimonesin Christian asceti_
cism has precursors in the Cynic tradition. Incidentally, the
concept of the denon has been elaborated in an excellent arti_
cle in the Dr'ctiannairede Spiitual;16.ror
l0l. Cf. Francois Vandenbroucke, ..Démon," Dictionnaire de Spiitualité.
I r a R L E S SS p E E c H
Diogenes gives an indication of the three daimoneswhich
Alexander must fight throughout his life, and which consti-
tute the target of a permanent "spiritual srrtggle"-"combat
spiituel." Of course,this phrase does not occur in Dio's textl
for here it is not so much a content which is specific and
important, but the idea of a parrhesiastic practice which
enablessomeoneto fight a spiritual war within himself.
And I think we can also seein the aggressiveencounter
between Alexander and Diogenes a struggle occurring
betweentwo kinds of power: political power and the power of
truth. In this struggle, the parrhesia.ster
acceptsand confronts
a permanentdanger:Diogenesexposeshimself to Alexander's
power from the beginning to the end of the Discourse.And
the main effect of this parrhesiasticstrugglewith power is not
to bring the interlocutor to a new truth) or to a new level of
self-awareness;it is to lead the interlocutor to internalize this
parrhesiasticstruggle-to frght within himself against his own
faults, and to be with himself in the sameway that Diogenes
was with him.
Personalrelationships r02
I would now like to analyze the parrhesiasticgame in the
framework of personal relationships, selecting some examples
from Plutarch and Galen which I think illustrate some of the
technicalproblems which can arise.
In Plutarch there is a text which is explicitly devoted to
the problem of ponhesia.Addressing certain aspectsof the par-
rhesiasticproblem, Plutarch tries to answerthe question: How
is it possible to recognize a tr:ueparrhesiastes ot truth-teller?
And similarly: How is it possible to distinguish a panhesiasus
102. Sixth and Final Lecture: 30 November 1983.
134 i/ichel Foucault
from a flatterer? The title of this text, which cames from
Plutarch's Moralia, is "How to Tell a Flatterer from a
Friend.'r03
I think we need to underline several points from this
essay.First, why do we need, in our personal lives, to have
some friend who plays the role of a panhes.ia.s/es, of a truth-
teller? The reasonPlutarch gives is found in the predominant
kind of relationship we often have to ourselves,viz., a relation
of philautia [Qrloudcr] or "self-love." This relation of self-love
is, for us, the ground of a persistent illusion about what we
really are:
It is becauseof this self-lovethat everybodyis himself his
own foremost and greatestflatterer, and hence finds no
difficulty in admitting rhe oursider ro wirness with him
and to confirm his own conceitsand desires.For the man
who is spoken of with opprobrium as a lover of flatterers
is in high degreea lover of self, and, becauseof his kind-
ly feeling towards himself, he desiresand conceiveshim-
self to be endowedwith all manner of good qualities; but
although the desirefor theseis not unnatural, yet the con-
ceit that one possessesthem is dangerousand must be
carefully avoided.Now if luth is a thing divine, and, as
Plato puts it, the origin "ofall good for gods and all good
for men" fLaws,730cl,then the flatterer is in all likeli-
hood an enemy to rhe gods and parricularly to the
Pythian god. For the flatterer alwaystakes a position over
against the maxim "Know Thyself," by creating in every
man deception towards himself and ignorance both of
103.Plutarch,"How to Tèll a Flattererfrom a Friend,,'Tians.E C.
Babbitt.
Mmalia,Vol.l,261-395.
F E A R L E s sS P E E c H
himself and of the good and evil that concernshimself;
the good he renders defectiveand incomplete, and the
evil wholly impossibleto amend.rM
IVeare our own flatterers,and it is in order to disconnect
this spontaneousrelation we have to ourselves,to rid ourselves
of our philautia, rhar we need a panhesiastes.
But it is difficult ro recognizeand to accepta panhesiastes.
For not only is it difficult to distinguish a true panhesiastes
from a flatterer; becauseof our philautia we are also not inter-
estedin recognizing a parrhesiastes. So at stake in this text is the
problem of determining the indubitable criteria which enable
us to distinguish the genuine panhesiasteswe need so badly to
rid ourselvesof our ownpfrilautia from the flatterer who "plays
the part of friend with the gravity of a tragedian" [50s1.tos
And this implies that we are in posessionof a kind of "semi-
r04.Ibid..49a-b.
105. Regarding the strategies the flatterer employs to camouflage his true
nature, Plutarch writes: "The most unprincipled trick ofall that he has is
this: perceiving that frankness of speech fttarhesiaf, by common report
and belief, is the language of friendship especially (as an animal has its
peculiar cry), and, on the other hand, that lack offrankness is unfriendly
and ignoble, he does not allow even this to escape imitation, Lut, iust as
clever cooks employ bitter extracts and astringent flavorings to remove
the cloying effect of sweet things, so flatterers apply a frankness which is
not genuine or beneficial, but which, as it were, winks while it frowns, and
does nothing but tickle. For these reasons, then, the man is hard to detect,
as in the case with some animals to which Nature has given the faculty of
changing their hue, so that they exactly conform to the colors and objects
beneath them. And since the flatterer uses resemblances to deceive and to
wrap about him, it is our task to use the differences in order to unwrap
'adorning himself with
him and lay him bare, in the act, as Plato puts it, of
alien colors and forms for want of any of his own'lPhaeilns,239d]" (51c-d).
 MichelFouôault
ology" of the realparhesiastes.
Plutarch proposestwo maior criteria to answer the ques_
tion, How can we recognizea ûue paffhesiasres? First, there is a
conformity betweenwhat the real truth-teller sayswith how he
behaves-and here you recognize the Socratic harmony of the
Laches,where Laches explains that he could trust Socratesas a
truth-teller about couragesince he saw that Socratesrcally was
courageousat Delium, and thus, that he exhibited a harmo_
nious accordberweenwhat he said and what he did.
There is also a second criterion, which is: the perma_
nence,the continuity, the stability and steadinessof the true
panhesiastes, the true friend, regarding his choices, his opin_
ions, and his thoughts:
...it is necessaryto observethe uniformity and perma_
nenceof his tasres,wherherhe alwaystakesdelight in the
samethings,and commendsalwaysthe samethings, and
whetherhe directsand ordainshis own life accordingto
one pattern, as becomesa freeborn man and a lover of
congenialfriendship and intimacy; for such is the con_
duct ofa friend. But the flatterer, since he has no abiding
placeofcharacterto dwell in, and sincehe leadsa life not
of his own choosingbut another's,molding and adapting
himself to suit anothet is not simple, not one, but vari_
able and many in one,and, like water that is poured into
one receptacleafter another,he is constantlyon the move
from place ro place, and changes his shape to fit his
receiver.r6
106. Plutarch, "How to Tell a Flatterer from a Friend." 52a_b
I r aRLEss SpÊEcH
Of course there are a lot of other very interesting things
about this essay.But I would like to underscore two major
themes. First, the theme of self-delusion,and its link with phi-
lautia-which is not something completely new. But in
Plutarch's text you can seethat his notion of self-delusionas
a consequenceof self-love is clearly different from being in a
state of ignorance about one's own lack of self-knowledge-
â state which Socrates attempted to overcome. plutarch,s
conceptionemphasizesthe fact that not only are we unable to
know that we know nothing, but we are also unable to know
exactly what we are. And I think that this theme of self-delu-
sion becomesincreasingly important in Hellenistic culture. In
Plutarch'speriod it is something really signihcant.
A secondtheme which I would like to stressis steadiness
of mind. This is also nor somerhing neq but for late Stoicism
the notion of steadinesstakes on great importance.And there
is an obvious relation between these two themes-the theme
of selÊdelusion and the theme of constancy or persistency
[èvôe],é1ercl of mind. For desrroying self-delusion and
acquiring and maintaining continuity of mind are two ethico-
moral activities which are linked ro one another. The self-
delusion which prevents you from knowing who or what you
are, and all the shifts in your rhoughts,feelings,and opinions
which force you to move from one thought to another, one
feeling to another, or one opinion to another,demonstratethis
linkage. For if you are able to discern exactly whar you are,
then you will stick to rhe same point, and you will nor be
moved by anything. If you are moved by any sort of stimula-
tion, feeling, passion,etc., then you are not able to stay close
to yourselt you are dependent upon something else,you are
driven to different concerns, and consequently you are not
able to maintain complete self-possession.
 MichelFoucault
These two elements-being deluded about yourself and
being moved by changesin the world and in your thoughts-
both developedand gained significance in the Christian tradi-
tion. In early Christian spirituality, Satanis often represented
as the agentboth ofself-delusion (as opposedto the renuncia-
tion of self) and of the mobility of mind-the instability or
unsteadinessof the soul as opposedto firmitas in the contem-
plation of God. Fasteningone's mind to God was a way, first,
of renouncing one's self so as to eliminate any kind of self-
delusion.r0T And it was also a way to acquire an ethical and an
ontologicalsteadiness.So I think that we can seein Plutarch's
text-in the analysis of the relation betweenpanhesia ar'd.flat-
tery-some elements which also became significant for the
Christian tradition.
I would like to refer now, very briefly, to a text by Galen
[4.D. 130-200]-the famous physician at the end of the
SecondCentury-where you can see the same problem: How
is it possible to recognize a real panhesiastes? Galen raises this
question in his essay"The Diagnosis and Cure of the Soul's
Passionsr"where he explains that in order for a man to free
himself from his passions,he needs a panhesiastes;for just as
in Plutarch a century previously,philazlia, self-love, is the root
of self-delusion:
...we see the faults of others but remain blind to those
which concernourselves. All men admit the truth of this
and, furthermore, Plato gives the reason for it fLaws,
73le]. He saysthat the lover is blind in the caseof the
object of his love. If, therefore,each of us loves himself
most of all. he must be blind in his own case...
There are passions of the soul which everybody
knows: anger,wrath, fear,grief, enlry',and violent lust. In
F E A R L E S SS P E E C H
my opinion, excessivevehemencein loving or hating any-
thing is also a passion;I think the saying "moderation is
best" is correct,sinceno immoderateaction is good. Hoq
then, could a man cut out thesepassionsif he did not first
know that he had them? But as we said, it is impossibleto
107. Foucault discusses the Christian "renunciation ofself" in the context
of Christian truth obligations in the following: "S7hat about truth as
a duty in our Christian societies? As everybody knows, Christianity is
a confession. This means that Christianity belongs to a very special type
of religion-those which impose obligations of truth on those who practice
them. Such obligations in Christianity are numerous. For instance, there
is the obligation to hold as truth a set of propositions which constitute
dogma, the obligation to hold certain books as â permanent source of
truth, and obligations to accept the decisions ofcertain authorities in mat-
ters of truth. But Christianity requires another form of truth obligation.
Everyone in Christianity has the duty to explore who he is, what is hap-
pening within himselt the faults he may have committed, the temptations
to which he is exposed. Moreover everyone is obliged to tell these things
to other people, and hence to bear witness against himself.
"These two ensembles of obligation-those regarding the faith, the
book, the dogma, and those regarding the self, the soul, and the heart-
are linked together. A Christian needs the light of faith when he wants to
explore himself. Conversely, his access to the truth can't be conceived of
without the purification ofthe soul... I would like to underline that the
Christian discovery of the self does not reveal the self as an illusion.
It gives place to a task which can't be anything else but undefined. This
task has two obiectives. First, there is the task of clearing up all the illu-
sions, temptations, and seductions which can occur in the mind, and dis-
covering the reality of what is going on within ourselves. Secondly one
has to get free from any attachment to this self, not because the self is an
illusion, but because the self is much too real. The more we discover the
truth about ourselves, the more we have to renounce ourselves; and the
more \ryewant to renounce ourselves, the more we need to bring to light
the reality ofourselves. That is what we could call the spiral oftruth for-
mulation and reality renouncement which is at the heart of Christian
techniques ofthe self" ["Sexuality and Solitude," lozdon Reoicw of Books,
2l May-3 June 1981, 51.
 /ichel Foucault I raRLESsSPEEcH

know them, sincewe love ourselvesto excess.Even if this

Socrates,the panhesiastes always needsto be a friend. And this
sayingwill not permit you to iudge yourself,it doesallow
friendship relation was alwaysat the root of the parrhesiastic
thât you can judge others whom you neither love nor game. As far as I know, for the first time with Galen, the par-
hate. Whenever you hear anyone in town being praised
rhesiastesno longer needsto be a friend. Indeed, it is much bet-
becausehe flattersno man, associate with that man and ter, Galen tells us, that the panhesiastes
be someonewhom you
judge from your own experiencewhether he is the sort of
do not know in order for him to be completely neutal. A good
m a n t h e y s a yh e i s . . .
truth-teller who gives you honest counselabout yourselfdoes
S7hena man doesnot greet the powerful and wealthy
not hate you, but he does not love you either. A. goodpanhesi-
by name,when he does not visit them, when he doesnot
astesis someonewith whom you have previously had no par-
dine with them, when he lives a disciplinedlife, expect
ticular relationship.
that man to speakthe truth; try too, to come to a deeper
But of courseyou cannot choosehim at random. You must
knowledge of what kind of man he is (and this comes
check some criteria in order to know whether he really is capa-
about through long association). Ifyou find such a man, ble of revealingyour faults. And for this you must have heard
summon him and talk with him one day in private;ask
of him. Does he have a good reputation?Is he old enough?Is
him to reveal straightaway whatever of the abovemen-
he rich enough?It is very important that the one who plays
tioned passionshe may seein you. Tell him you will be
the role of.the panhesiastes be at least as rich as,or richer than,
most grateful for this service and that you will look on you are. For if he is poor and you are rich, then the chances
him as your deliverer more than if he had savedyou from
will be greaterthat he will be a flatterer,since it is now in his
an illness of the body. Have him promise to reveal it
interest to do so.roe
whenever he seesyou affected by any of the passions
The Cynics,of course,would havesaid that someonewho
I havementioned.rog
is rich, who has a positive relation to wealth, cannot really be
wise; so it is not worthwhile selecting him as a panhesiastes.
It is interesting to note that in this text, thepanhesiastes_
Galen'sidea of selectingsomeonewho is richer than you to act
which everyoneneedsin order to get rid of his own self-delu_
as your truth-teller would seem ridiculous to a Cynic.
sion-does not need to be a friend, someoneyou know, some-
But it is also interesting to note that in this essay,the truth-
one with whom you are acquainted. And this, I think, consti_
teller doesnot need to be a physician or doctor. For in spite of
tutes a very important difference between Galen and plutarch.
the fact that Galen himself was a physician, was often obliged
In Plutarch, Seneca, and the tradition which derives from
to "cure" the excessivepassionsof others, and often succeeded

108.Galen,"The Diagnosis
andCureof the Soul'spassions," paul
Ti"ans.
!0.Harkins;3l-33.
|0g.Ibid , 32-i6; cf.Michel Foucaurt,Le souci ite soi, 65-69,72.
 MichelFoucaull
in doing so, he does not require of a panhesiastesthat he be
a doctor,or that he possessthe ability to cure you ofyour pas-
sions.All that is required is that he be able ro tell you the rruth
about yourself.
But it is still nor enough ro know thar the truth-teller is
old enough,rich enough,and has a good reputation. He must
also be resæd.And Galen gives a program for testing rhe poten-
tral panhesiastes.For example, you must ask him questions
about himself and seehow he respondsto determinewhether
he will be severeenough for the role. You have to be suspicious
when the would-beparràesiastes congratulates you, when he is
not severeenough,and so on.
Galen doesnot elaborateupon the preciserole ofthepar-
rhesiastes in " The Diagnosis and Cure of the Soul's Passions"l
he only gives a few examples of the son of advice he himself
gave while assuming this role for others. But, to summarize
the foregoing, in this text rhe relationship betweenparrhesia
and friendship no longer seemsto obtain, and there is a kind
of trial or examinationrequired of the potentialpathesiastesby
his "patron" or "client."
I apologize for being so brief about these rexts from
Plutarch and Galen; but they are nor very difficult to read,
only diffrcult to find.
In Techniquesof Examination
Preliminaryremarks
I would now like to turn to the various techniques of the par-
rhesiasticgameswhich can be found in the philosophicaland
moral literature of the first two centuries of our era. Of course,
I do not plan to enumerateor discussall of the important prac-
tices that can be found in the writings of this period. To begin
with, I would like to make three preliminary remarks.
I T a R L E S SS P E E c H
First, I think that thesetechniquesmanifest a very inter-
estingand important shift from that truth gamewhich-in the
classicalGreek conception of panhesia-was constituted by
the fact that someonewas courageousenough to tell the truth
to otherpeople.For there is a shift from that kind of parrhesias-
tic game to another truth game which now consistsin being
courageousenough to disclose the truth aboutoneself.
Secondly,this new kind of parrhesiasticgame-where
the problem is to confront the truth about yourself-requires
what the Greeks calle{ asÈesis[rioreotç]. Although our word
qscetictsmderives from ihe Greek word asËesis (since the mean-
ing of the word changesas it becomesassociatedwith various
Christian practices),for the Greeks the word does not mean
"âscetic," but has a very broad sense denoting any krnd of
practical training or exercise.For example,it was a common-
placeto saythat any kind ofart or techniquehad to be learned
by mathesis and asÈesls-by theoreticalknowledgeand practi-
cal training. And, for instance, when Musonius Rufus says
that the art of living, technetou biou, islike the other arts' i'e.)
an art which one could not learn only through theoretical
teachings,he is repeatinga traditional doctrine. This technetou
biou, rhis art of living, demands practice and training: asÈe-
sls.r10But the Greek conception of ashesisdiffers from
Christian asceticpracticesin at least two ways: (l) Christian
asceticismhas as its ultimate aim or targetthe renunciation of
the self, whereas the moral asËesisof the Greco-Roman
ll0. Cf. MusoniusRufus,"On Tiaining" [flepi croloeroç]'51-57;
Epictetus, "On Tiaining," in The Discoursesas Reponed b3tAùm (III, l2);
'fhe
Michel Foucauln,The Care of the Sef (Chapter II: Culture of the SelQ;
Foucault interview, "On the Genealogy of Ethics," passim; P. Hadot,
Exercisesspiituek et philosophieantique.
 lvlichelFoucault
philosophieshasas its goal the establishmentof a specificrela-
tionship to oneself-a relationship of self-possession and self-
sovereignty; (2) Christian asceticism takes as its principal
theme detachmentfrom the world, whereasthe asceticprac-
tices of the Greco-Roman philosophies are generally con-
cernedwith endowing the individual with the preparationand
the moral equipment that will permit him to fully confront the
world in an ethical and rational manner.
Thirdly, theseasceticpracticesimplied numerous differ-
ent kinds ofspecific exercises;but they were never specifical-
ly catalogued, analyzed,or described. Some of them were dis-
cussed and criticized, but most of them were well-known.
Since most people recognizedthem, they were usually used
without any precise theory about the exercise.And indeed,
when one now reads these Greek and Latin authors as they
discusssuch exercisesin the context of specific theoretical
topics (such as time, death, the world, life, necessity,etc.),one
often getsa mistaken conceptionabout them. For thesetopics
usually function only as a schemaor matrix for the spiritual
exercise.In fact, most of these texts written in late antiquity
about ethics are not at all concernedwith advancinga theory
about the foundations of ethics, but are practical books con-
taining specific recipes and exercisesone had to read, to
reread,to meditate upon) to learn, in order to constructa last-
ing matrix for one's own behavior.
I now turn to the kinds of exerciseswhere someonehad to
examine the truth about himself. and tell this truth to some-
one else.
Most of the time when we refer to such exercises, we speak
of practicesinvolving the "examination of conscience."But
I think that the expression"examination of conscience"as
a blanket term meant to characterize all these different
F E À R L E s sS P E E Ô H
exercisesmisleadsand oversimplifies. For we have to define
very preciselythe different truth gameswhich have been put
into work and applied in thesepracticesof the Greco-Roman
tradition. I would like to analyzefive of these truth games
commonly describedas "examinationsof conscience"in order
to show you (l) how some of the exercisesdiffer from one
another; (2) what aspectsof the mind, feelings'behavior,etc',
were consideredin thesedifferent exercisesland (3) that these
exercises,despitetheir differences,implied a relation between
truth and the self which is very different from what we {ind in
the Christian tradition.
Solitary self-examination
The first lext I would like to analyze comes from Seneca's
De ira l"On Anger"]:
All our sensesought to be trained to endurance.They are
naturally long-suffering,if only the mind desistsfrom
weakeningthem. This should be summonedto give an
accountof itself every day. Sextiushad this habit' and
when the day was over and he had retired to his nightly
rest,he would put thesequestionsto his soul:"What bad
habit have you cured today?What fault haveyou resist-
ed?In what respectsareyou better?"Angerwill ceaseand
becomecontrollableif it finds that it must appearbefore
a iudge every day.Can anything be more excellentthat
this practice of thoroughly sifting the whole day? And
how delightful the sleepthat follows this self-examina-
tion-how tranquil it is, how deepand untroubled,when
the soul has either praised or admonisheditself, and
when this secretexaminer and critic of self has given
reportof its own character!I avail myselfof this privilege'
 [ , 4 i c h eFl o u c a u l t
and every day I plead my cause before the bar of self.
\7hen the light has been removed from sight, and my
wife, long awareof my habit, hasbecomesilent,I scanthe
whole of my day and retraceall my deedsand words.
I concealnorhing from myself,I omit nothing. For
why shouldI shrink from any of my mistakes,when I may
communethus with my selP "Seethat you neverdo that
again; I will pardon you this time. In that dispute you
spoke too offensively; after this don,t have encounrers
with ignorant people;those who have never learneddo
not want to learn. You reprovedthat man more frankly
than you ought, and consequentlyyou havenot so much
mendedhim as offendedhim. In the future,considernot
only the truth of what you say,but alsowhetherthe man
to whom you are speakingcan endure the truth. A good
man acceptsreproofgladly; the worsea man is the more
bitterly hs lsssnlsi1."rtt
rVe know from severalsourcesthat
this kind of exercise
wasa daily requirement,or at leasta habit, in the pythagorean
tradition.r12Beforethey went ro sleep,the pythagoreanshad to
perform this kind of examination,recollectingthe faults they
had committed during the day. Such faults consisredin those
sortsof behaviorwhich transgressedrhe very strict rules of the
PythagoreanSchools.And the purposeof this examination)at
leastin the Pythagoreantradirion, was ro purify the soul. Such
purification was believed necessarysince the pythagoreans
consideredsleepto be a stareofbeing whereby the soul could
1ll. Seneca,"On Anger," Tians. John W. Basore; 33g-341.
I 12. Cf. Michel Foucault, Ie Souci de soi.77.
Frlnress Speecs
get in contact with the divinity through dreams. And, of
course,one had to keep one's soul as pure as possibleboth to
have beautiful dreams, and also to come into contact with
benevolentdeities. In this text of Seneca'swe can clearly see
that this Pythagorean tradition survives in the exercise he
describes(as it also doeslater on in similar practicesutilized
by the Christians).The idea of employing sleepand dreamsas
a possiblemeansof apprehendingthe divine can alsobe found
in Plato's Republic [Book IX, 57le-572b]. Senecatells us that
by means of this exercisewe are able to procure good and
delightful sleep: "How delightful the sleep that follows this
examination-how tranquil it is, how deep and untroubled."
And we know from Senecahimself that under his teacher,
Sotio, his first training was partly Pythagorean. Senecarelates
this practice, however, not to Pythagorean custom, but to
Quintus Sextius,who was one of the advocatesof Stoicism in
Rome at rhe end of the First Century B.C. And it seemsthat
this exercise, despite its purely Pythagorean origin, wâs uti-
lized and praised by severalphilosophical sectsand schools:
the Epicureans,Stoics, Cynics, and others. There are refer-
encesin Epictetus,for example,to this kind of exercise.And
it would be uselessto deny that Seneca'sself-examinationis
similar to the kinds of asceticpracticesused for centuries in
the Christian tradition. But if we look at the text more closely,
I think we can seesome interesting differences.rrs
First, there is the question of Seneca'sattitude towards
himself. Vhat kind of operation is Senecaactually performing
in this exercise?\ùVhatis the practical matrix he uses and
applies in relation to himself.) At first glance,it seemsto be
'tr3.Ibtd..77ff.
 i/ichel Foucault
a judiciary pracricewhich is closeto the Christian confession-
al: there are thoughts, these thoughts are confessed,there is an
accused (namely, Seneca),there is an accuser or prosecutor
(who is also Seneca),there is a iudge (also Seneca),and it
seemsthat there is a verdict. The entire sceneseemsto be
iudi_
ciary; and Seneca employs typical fudiciary expressions
("appear before a judger" "plead my causebefore the bar of
selfr" etc.).Closer scrutiny shows,however,that it is a question
of something different from the court) or from iudicial proce_
dure. For instance, Senecasays that he is an ,.examiner,'of
himself fspeculntorsnil. The word specubrûrmeans an ..exam_
iner" or "inspectol"-typically someone who inspects the
freight on a ship, or the work being done by builders con_
structing a house, etc. Senecaalso says ,,totumdiem meum scru_
167"-'(l examine, inspect, the whole of my day.,,Here the
verb scrutor belongs, not to iudicial vocabulary but to the
vocabularyof administration. Senecastatesfurther ont,,fac_
taque ac dicta mea 7s1nsg.js7"-<.2nd I retrace, recount, all my
deedsand words." The verb renetii is a technical term used in
bookkeepingand has rhe senseof checking whether there is
any kind ofmiscalculation or error in the accounts.So Seneca
is not exactly a iudge passing sentenceupon himself. He is
much more of an administratorwho, once the work is finished,
or when the year's business is completed, draws up the
accounts, takes stock of things, and seeswhether everything
has been done correctly. It is more of an administrative scene
than a iudiciary one.
And if we turn to the faults that Seneca retraces, and
which he gives as examplesin this examination, we can see
that they are not the sort of faults we would call ,.sins." He
doesnot confess,for example, that he drinks too much. or has
t E A R L E S sS P Ê E c H
committed financial fraud, or has bad feelings for someone
else-faults Senecawas very familiar with as one of Nero's
ring. He reproacheshimself for very different things. He has
criticized someone,but instead of his criticism helping the
man, it has hurt him. Or he criticizes himself for being dis-
gusted by people who were, in any case,incapableof under-
standing him. Behaving in such fashion, he commits "mis-
takes" lenorcs]; but these mistakes are only ineffrcient actions
requiring adjustmentsbetweenends and means.He criticizes
himself for not keepingthe aim of his actionsin mind, for not
seeingthat it is uselessto blame someoneif the criticism given
will not improve things, and so on. The point of the fault con-
cerns a practicalerror in his behavior since he was unable to
establishan effectiverational relation betweenthe principles
ofconduct he knows and the behavior he actually engagedin.
Seneca'sfaults are not transgressionsof a code or law. They
express,rather,occasionswhen his attempt to coordinaterules
of behavior (rules he already accepts,recognizes,and knows)
with his own actualbehavior in a specificsituation has proven
to be unsuccessfulor inefficient.
Senecaalso does not reactto his own errors as if they were
sins. He does not punish himself; there is nothing like pen-
ance.The retracing of his mistakeshas as its obiect the reacti-
vation of practical rules of behavior which, now reinforced, may
be useful for future occasions.He thus tells himself: "See that
you never do that againr""Don't have encounterswith igno-
rant peopler" "In the future, consider not only the truth of
what you say, but also whether the man to whom you are
speakingcan endure the truth," and so on. Senecadoes not
analyzehis responsibility or feelings of guilt; it is not, for him,
a question of purifuing himself of these faults. Rather, he
engagesin a kind of administrative scrutiny which enables
 l\,lichelFoucault
him to reactivate various rules and maxims in order to make
them more vivid, permanent) and effective for future behavior.
Self-diagnosis
The secondtext I would like to discusscomesfrom Seneca,s
De tranquillinteanimi ["On the Tianquillity of Mind"]. TheDe
tranquillitate animi is one of a number of texts written about
a theme we have already encountered, viz., constancy or
steadinessof mind. To put it very briefly, the Latin word tran-
quillitas, which is supposed ro rranslate the Greek word
eùOop'rcr, denotesstability of soul or mind. Ir is a statewhere
the mind is independentof any kind of external evenr,and is
free as well from any internal excitation or agitation that could
induce an involuntary movement of mind. Thus it denotes
stability, self-sovereignty,and independence. But tranquillitas
alsorefersto a certain feeling ofpleasurablecalm which hasits
source, its principle, in this self-sovereignty or self-
possessionofthe self.
At the beginning of the De tanquillitate animi, Annaeus
Serenusasks Senecafor a consultation. Serenusis a young
friend of Seneca'swho belongedto the samefamily, and who
started his political career under Nero as Nero's nightwatch-
man. For both Senecaand Serenusthere is no incompatibility
betweenphilosophy and a political careersince a philosophi-
cal life is not merely an ahernarive to a political life. Rather,
philosophy must accompanya political life in order to provide
a moral framework for public activity. Serenus,who was ini-
tially an Epicurean,later turned towards Stoicism. But even
after he becamea Stoic, he felt uncomfortable; for he had the
impression that he was nor able to improve himself, that he
had reacheda deadend, and was unable to make any progress.
F E A R L E s sS P E Ê c H
I should note that for the Old Stoa-for Zeno of Citium, for
example--when a person knew the doctrinesof the Stoic phi-
losophyhe did not really need to Progressanymore,for he has
thereby succeededin becoming a Stoic. What is interesting
here is the idea ofprogressoccurring as a new developmentin
the evolution of Stoicism. Serenusknows the Stoic doctrine
and its practical rules, but still lacks tanquillitas' And it is in
this state of unrest that he turns to Senecaand asks him for
help. Of course, we cannot be sure that this depiction of
Serenus'statereflectshis real historical situation; we can only
be reasonablysure that Senecawrote this text. But the text is
supposedto be a letter written to Serenusincorporating the
latter's requestfor moral advice. And it exhibits a model or
pattern for a type of self-examination.
Serenusexamineswhat he is or what he hasaccomplished
at the moment when he requeststhis consultation:
SERENUS: \fhen I made examination of myself it
, e n e c at 'h a t s o m eo f m y v i c e sa r e u n c o v -
b e c a m ee v i d e n t S
eredand displayedso openlythat I can put my hand upon
them, someare more hidden and lurk in a corner'some
are not alwayspresentbut recur at intervals;and I should
say that the last are by far the most troublesome,being
like rovingenemiesthat springupon onewhen the oppor-
tunity offers, and allow one neither to be ready as in war,
nor to be offguard as in Peace.
Neverthelessthe statein which I find myselfmost of
all-for why should I not admit the truth to you as to
a physician?-is that I have neither been honestlyset free
from the things I hated and feared, nor' on the other
hand, am I in bondageto them; while the condition in
152 MichelFoucault
which I am placedis not the worst,yet I am complaining
and fretful-I am neither sick nor well.r14
As you can see,Serenus'requesttakesthe form ofa "med-
ical" consultationof his own spiritual state.For he says,"why
should I not admit the truth to you as to a physician?"; "I am
neither sick nor well"l and so on. Theseexpressionsare clear-
ly related to the well-known metaphorical identification of
moral discomfort with physical illness. And what is also
important 1o underline here is that in order for Serenusto be
cured of his illness, he hrst needs to "admit the truth" [oerum
fatearf to Seneca.But what are the truths that Serenus must
"confess"?
\fle shall seethat he disclosesno secretfaults, no shame-
ful desires,nothing like that. It is somethingentirely different
from a Christian confession.And this "confession" can be
divided into two parts. First, there is Serenus'very general
exposéabout himself; and secondly,there is an exposéof his
attitude in different fields ofactivity in his life.
The generalexposéabout his condition is the following:
There is no needfor you to saythat all the virtues areweak-
ly at the beginning,that firmnessand strengthare added
by time. I am well awarealso that the virtues that strug-
gle for outward show,I mean for position and the fame of
eloquenceand all that comesunder the verdict ofothers,
do grow strongeras time passes-both those that provide
real strengthand thosethat trick us out with a sort ofdye
with a view to pleasing,must wait long yearsuntil gradu-
ally length of time developscolor-but I greatly fear that
l14. Seneca,"On Tianquillity of Mind," Tians. John \ùf.Basore, I. l-3.
F E A R L E S SS P É E C H
habit, which brings stability to most things, may cause
this fault of mine to becomemore deeply implanted' Of
things evil as well as good long intercourseinduces love.
The nature of this weaknessof mind that halts
between two things and inclines strongly neither to the
right nor to the wrong, I cannot show you so well all at
onceas a part at a time; I shall tell you what befallsme-
you will find a name for my malady.rrs
Serenustells us that the truth about himself that he will
now exposeis descriptiveof the malady he suffersfrom. And
from these general remarks and other indications he gives
later on, we can seethat this malady is comparedthroughout
to the seasicknesscausedby being aboard a boat which no
longer advances,but rolls and pitches at sea.Serenusis afraid
of remaining at seain this condition, in full view of the dry
land which remains inaccessibleto him. The organizationof
the themesSerenusdescribes,with its implicit and, aswe shall
see,its explicit metaphoricalreferenceto being at sea,involves
the traditional associationin moral-political philosophy of
medicine and piloting a boat or navigation-which we have
already seen. Here we also have the same three elements:
a moral-philosophical problem, reference to medicine, and
referenceto piloting. Serenusis on the way towards acquiring
the truth like a ship at seain sight of dry land' But becausehe
lacks complete self-possessionor selÊmastery he has the feel-
ing that he cannol advance.Perhapsbecausehe is too weak'
perhapshis courseis not a good one. He doesnot know exact-
ly what is the reasonfor his waverings, but he characterizeshis
malaiseas a kind of perpetual vacillating motion which has no
I 15. Seneca,"On the Thanquillity of Mind," I. 3-4.
 l\4ichelFoucault
other movement than "rocking." The boat cannot advance
becauseit is rocking. So Serenus'problem is: how can he
replacethis wavering motion of rocking-which is due to the
instability, the unsteadinessof his mind-with a steadylinear
movement that will take him to the coast and to the firm
earth?It is a problem of dynamics,but very different from the
Freudian dynamics of an unconsciousconflict between two
psychicforces.Here we have an oscillaring motion of rocking
which prevents the movement of the mind from advancing
towards the truth, towards steadiness,towards the ground.
And now we have to seehow this metaphoricaldynamic grid
organizesSerenus'descriptionof himself in the following long
quotation:
(l) I am possessedby the very greatestlove of frugality,
I must confess;I do not like a couch made up for display,
nor clothing brought forth from a chesr or pressedby
weightsand a thousandmanglesto make it glossy,but
homelyand cheap,that is neitherpreservednor to be put
on with anxiouscare;the food that I like is neither pre-
pared nor watchedby a householdof slaves,it does not
need to be ordered many days before nor to be servedby
many hands, but is easy to get and abundant;there is
nothing far-fetchedor costly about it, nowherewill there
be any lack of it, it is burdensomeneitherto the pursenor
to the body, nor will it rerurn by the way it entered; the
servant that I like is a young home-born slave without
training or skill; the silver is my country-bredfather's
heavyplate bearing no stamp of the maker'sname,and
the table is not notablefor the variety of its markingsor
known to the town from the many fashionable owners
through whosehands it has passed,but one that stands
F E A R L E S sS P E E C H
for use, and will neither cause the eyes of any guest to
linger upon it with pleasure nor fire them with enly.
Then, after all thesethings havehad my full approval,my
mind lanimu.d is dazzled by the magnificence of some
training schoolsfor pages,by the sight ofslavesbedecked
with gold and more carefully arrayed than the leadersof
a public procession,and a whole regiment of glittering
attendants;by the sight ofa housewhere one even treads
on preciousstonesand riches are scatteredabout in every
corner, where the very roofs glitter, and the whole town
pays court and escortsan inheritance on the road to ruin.
And what shall I sayof the waters,transparentto the bot-
tom, that flow around the guests even as they banquet,
what of the feaststhat are worthy of their setting?Coming
from a long abandonment to thrift, luxury has poured
around me the wealth of its splendor,and echoedaround
me on every side.My sight falters a little, for I can lift up
my heart towards it more easily than my eyes.And so I
come back, not worse, but sadder, and I do not walk
among my paltry possessionswith head erect as before,
and there enters a secretsting and the doubt whether the
other life is not better. None of these things changesme,
yet none of them fails to disturb me.
(2) I resolve to obey the commands of my teachersand
plunge into the midst of public life; I resolveto try to gain
office and the consulship, attracted of course,not by the
purple or by the lictor's rods, but by the desireto be more
serviceableand useful to my friends and relativesand all
my countrymen and then to all mankind. Ready and
determined, I follow Zeno, Cleanthes,and Chrysippus,of
whom none the lessnot one failed to urge others to do so.
 t v i i c h eFl o u c a u l t
And then,wheneversomethingupsetsmy mind, which is
unusedto meetingshocks,wheneversomethinghappens
that is either unworthyof me, and many suchoccurin the
lives of all human beings,or that does not proceedvery
easily,or when things that are not to be accountedofgreat
valuedemandmuch of my time, I turn backto my leisure,
and fust as wearied flocks too do, I quicken my pace
towardshome. I resolveto confine my life within its own
walls: "Let no one," I say,"who will make me no worthy
return for such a loss rob me of a single day; let my mind
be fixed upon itself, let it cultivate itself, let it busy itself
with nothing outside, nothing that looks towards an
umpire; let it love the tranquillity that is remore from
public and privateconcern."But when my mind fanimus)
has been arousedby reading of great bravery,and noble
exampleshave applied the spur, I want to rush into the
forum, to lend my voice to one man; to offer such assis-
tance to another as, even if it will not help, will be an
effort to help; or to check the pride of someonein the
forum who has been unfortunately puffed up by his
successes.
(3) And in my literary studiesI think that it is surelybet-
ter to fix my eyeson the theme itself, and, keeping this
uppermostwhen I speak,to trust meanwhileto the theme
to supply the words so that unstudiedlanguagemay fol-
low it whereverit leads.I say:"rVhat needis thereto com-
posesomethingthat will last for centuries?Will you not
give up striving to keep posterity silent about you? You
were born for death; a silent funeral is less troublesome!
And so to passthe time, write something in simple style,
for your own use, not for publication; they that study for
FEARLESS
SPEECH
the day have less need to labor." Then again, when my
mind fanimu.s]has been uplifted by the greatnessof its
thoughts,it becomesambitiousof words,and with high-
er aspirationsit desireshigher expression'and language
issuesforth to match the dignity of the theme; forgetful
then of my rule and of my more restrainediudgment'
I am swept to loftier heights by an utterance that is no
longer my own.
Not to indulge longer in details,I am all things attended
by this weaknessofgood intention.In fact I fear that I am
gradually losing ground, or, what causesme even more
worry, that I am hanging like one who is alwayson the
vergeof falling, and that perhapsI am in a more serious
condition than I myself perceive;for we take a favorable
view of our private matters, and partiality always ham-
pers our judgment. I fancy that many men would have
arrived at wisdom if they had not fancied that they had
alreadyarrived,if they had not dissembledabout certain
traits in their characterand passedby otherswith their
eyesshut. For there is no reasonfor you to supposethat
the adulationof other peopleis more ruinous to us than
our own. Who dares to tell himself the truth? \fho'
though he is surrounded by a horde of applauding syco-
phants, is not for all that his own greatestflatterer?I beg
you, therefore, if you have any remedy by which you
could stopthis fluctuationof mine, to deemme worthy of
being indebted to you for tranquillity. I know that these
mental disturbancesof mine are not dangerousand give
no promiseof a storm; to expresswhat I complain of in
apt metaphor, I am distressed,not by a tempest, but by
sea-sickness.Do you, then, take from me this trouble'
 MichelFoucault r I ^l?t I sS SPEÊCH

whateverit be, and rush to the rescueof one who is strue_

ical career,but to be of serviceto others.And in the third para-
gling in full sight of land.r16
graph he statesthat he is not seducedby high-flown rhetoric)
trut prefersinsteadto adhereto useful speech.You can seethat
At first glance, Serenus'long description appearsto be an
in this way Serenusdraws up a balancesheetofhis choices,of
accumularion of relatively unimportant details about his likes
his freedom,and the result is not bad at all. Indeed, it is quite
and dislikes, descriptions of trifles such as his father,s heavy positive. Serenusis attachedto what is natural, to what is nec-
plates,how he likes his food, and so on. And it also seemsto
essary,to what is useful (either for himself or his friends), and
be in great disorder, a mess of details. But behind this appar_
is usually indifferent to the rest. Regarding these three fields
ent disorderyou can easilydiscernthe real organizationofthe (private life, public life, and afterlife),well, all rold' Serenusis
text. There are three basic parts to the discourse. The first
rather a good fellow. And his accountalsoshowsus the precise
part, the beginning of the quote, is devoted to Serenus,rela_
- topic of his examination,which is: what are the things that are
tion to wealth, possessions, his domestic and private life. The important to me, and what are the things to which I am indif-
- secondpart-which begins',I resolveto obey the commands
ferent? And he considers important things which really are
of my teache1s..."-1his paragraphdeals with Serenus,rela_
important.
tion to public life and his political character.And in the third
But each of the three paragraphsis also divided into two
part-which starts at "And in my literary studies..."_
parts. After Serenus explains the importance or indifference
- Serenusspeaks
ofhis literary activiry, rhe rype oflanguage he he attributesto things, there is a transitional moment when he
prefers to emplog and so on. But \ryecan also recognize here
beginsto make an obiection to himself, when his mind begins
the relation between death and immortality, or the question of
to waver.These transitional moments are marked by his useof
an enduring life in people's memories after death. So the three
the word animus.Regarding the three topics already noted,
themes treated in these paragraphsare (l) private or domestic
Serenusexplains that despite the fact that he makes good
life; (2) public life; and (3) immortality or afterlife.
choices,that he disregardsunimportant things, he nonethe-
In the first part Serenusexplainswhat he is willing to do,
less feels that his mind, his animus,is involuntarily moved.
and what he likes to do. He thereby also shows what he con_
And as a result, although he is not exactly inclined to behave
siders unimportanr and to which he is indifferent. And all
in an opposite fashion, he is still dazzledor arousedby the
thesedescriptions show Serenus,positive image and character.
things he previously thought unimportant. These involuntary
He doesnor have great material needsin his domestic life, for
feelings are indications, he believes, that his animus is not
he is not attached to luxury. In the second paragraph he says
completely tranquil or stable,and this motivates his request
he is not enslavedby ambition. He doesnot wanr a greatpolit_
for a consultation. Serenusknows the theoretical principles
and practicalrules of Stoicism,is usually able to put them into
operation,yet he still feelsthat theserules are not a permanent
iO io..", "On the Tianquillity of Mind,', L ,l-17. matrix for his behavior, his feelings, and his thoughts'
 M i c h e lF o u c a u l t F r a a r E s sS p r E c x

whateverit be, and rush to the rescueofone who is strug_

ical career,but to be ofservice to others.And in the third para-
gling in full sight of land.r16
graph he statesthat he is not seducedby high-flown rhetoric,
but prefersinsteadto adhereto useful speech.You can seethat
At first glance, Serenus,long description appearsto be an
in this way Serenusdraws up a balancesheetofhis choices,of
accumulationof relatively unimportant details about his likes
his freedom,and the result is not bad at all. Indeed, it is quite
and dislikes, descriptions of trifles such as his father's heavy
positive. Serenusis attachedto what is natural, to what is nec-
plates,how he likes his food, and so on. And ir also seems
ro essary,to what is useful (either for himself or his friends), and
be in great disorder, a mess of details. But behind this appar_
is usually indifferent to the rest. Regarding these three fields
ent disorder you can easily discern the real organization of the
(private life, public life, and afterlife),well, all told, Serenusis
text. There are three basic parts to the discourse. The first
rather a good fellow And his accountalsoshowsus the precise
part, the beginning of the quote, is devoted to Serenus' rela_
- topic of his examination,which is: what are the things that are
tion to wealth, possessions, his domesticand private life. The important to me, and what are the things to which I am indif-
- second part-which begins .,I resolve to obey
the commands ferent? And he considersimportant things which really are
of my teachers..."-this paragraphdeals with Serenus'rela_
important.
tion to public life and his political character.And in the third
But each of the three paragraphsis also divided into two
part-which starts at ,ând in my literary studies..."_
- Serenusspeaks parts. After Serenusexplains the importance or indifference
ofhis literary acrivity,the type oflanguage he
he attributes to things, there is a transitional moment when he
prefers to employ, and so on. But we can also recognize here
beginsto make an oblection to himself, when his mind begins
the relation between death and immortality, or the question of
to waver.Thesetransitional momentsare marked by his useof
an enduring life in people's memories after death. So the three
the word animus.Regarding the three topics already noted,
themes treated in these paragraphsare (l) private or domestic
Serenusexplains that despite the fact that he makes good
life; (2) public life; and (3) immortality or afterlife.
choices,that he disregardsuûimportant things, he nonethe-
In the first parr Serenusexplains what he is willing to do,
less feels that his mind, his animus,is involuntarily moved.
and what he likes to do. He thereby also showswhat he con_
And as a result, although he is not exactly inclined to behave
siders unimportanr and to which he is indifferent. And all
in an opposite fashion, he is still dazzledor arousedby the
thesedescriptionsshow Serenus'positiveimageand character.
things he previously thought unimportant. These involuntary
He doesnot have great material needsin his domestic life, for
feelings are indications, he believes,that his animus is not
he is not attached to luxury. In the second paragraph he says
completely tranquil or stable,and this motivates his request
he is not enslavedby ambition. He doesnot wanr a greatpolit_
for a consultation. Serenusknows the theoretical principles
and practicalrules of Stoicism,is usually able to put them into
operation,yet he still feelsthat theserules are not a permanent
tU. ,.n..", "On the Tranquillity of Mind,,, I. ,t-17.
matrix for his behavior, his feelings, and his thoughts.
 MichelFoucault
Serenus'instability does not derive from his ,,sins,,'or from
the fact that he exists as a temporal being-as in Augustine,
for example.It stems from the fact that he has nor yer suc-
ceededin harmonizing his actions and thoughts with the eth-
ical structure he haschosenfor himself. It is asif Serenuswere
a good pilot, he knows how to sail, there is no storm on the
horizon, yet he is stuck at seaand cannot reachthe solid earth
becausehe doesnot possessthetranquillitas, thefirmitas,which
comesfrom complete self-sovereignty.And Seneca'sreply to
this self-examinationand moral request is an exploration of
the nature of this stability of mind.
Self-testing
A third text, which also shows some of the differencesin the
truth games involved in these self-examination exercises,
comes from the Discourses of Epictetus-where I think you
can find a third rype ofexercise quite different from the pre-
vious ones. There are numerous types of self-examination
techniquesand practicesin Epictetus, some of them resem-
bling both the evening examinationsof Sextiusand the gener-
al self-scrutinyof Serenus.But there is one form of examina-
tion which, I think, is very characteristicof Epictetus, and
which takes the form of a constant putting on trial of all our
representations.This technique is also related to the demand
for stability; for given the constant stream ofrepresentations
which flow into the mind, Epictetus' problem consists in
knowing how to distinguish those represenrationsthat he can
control from those that he cannot control, that incite involun-
tary emotions,feelings,behavior,etc.,and that must therefore
be excludedfrom his mind. Epictetus'solution is that we must
adopt an attitude of permanentsurveillancewith regard to all
our representations,and he explains this attitude by employ-
I r ARLÊssSPEEcH
ing two metaphors: the metaphor of the nightwatchman or
doorkeeper who does not admit anyone into his house or
palacewithout first checkinghis identity; and the metaphorof
the "money-changer"-1ryhat the Greeks called the ctp1lpo-
porpôç-who, when a coin is very difficult to read' verihes the
authenticity of the currency, examines it, weighs it, verifres the
metal and effigy,and so on:
The third topic has to do with casesof assenqit is con-
cernedwith the things that are plausibleand attractive.
For, iust as Socratesusedto tell us not to live a life unsub-
jectedto examination,so we ought not to accepta sense-
impressionunsubiectedto examination,but should say'
"Wait, allow me to see who you are and whence you
come" (iust as the night-watch say, "Show me your
tokens")."Do you haveyour tokensfrom nature,the ones
which every sense-impression which is to be accepted
must have)"rr7
These two metaphors are also found in early Christian
texts.JohannesCassian[4.D. 360-435],for example'askedhis
monks to scrutinize and test their own representationslike
a doorkeeperor a money-changer.rrs In the caseof Christian
self-examination,the monitoring of representationshas the
specific intention of determining whether, under an apparently
innocent guise, the devil himself is not hiding. For in order
not to be trapped by what only seemsto be innocent, in order to
avoid the devil's counterfeit coins, the Christian must deter-
I 17. Epictetus, The Discoursesas Reported by Artiaz, Tians. !01 A. Oldfather,
nI, 12.
l l8. Cf. Michel Foucault, "Sexuality and Solitude"'6.
 MichelFoucaull I r aRLÊss SPEEcH

mine where his thoughts and senseimpressionscome from,

moral purpose,it is not an evil." Caesarhas condemned
and what relation actually exists between a representation's
him. "That lies outsidethe sphereof the moral purpose,
apparent and real value. For Epictetus, however, the problem
it is not an evil." He was grievedat all this. "That lies
is not to determine the source of the impression (God or
within the sphereof the moral purpose,it is an evil." He
Satan)so as to judge whether ir concealssomerhingor nor; his
has borne up under it manfully. "That lies within the
problem is rather to determine whether the impressionrepre_
sphere of the moral purpose, it is a good." Now if we
sentssomethingwhich dependsupon him or not) i.e.,whether
acquire this habit, we shall make progress;for we shall
it is accessibleor nor to his will. Its purposeis not to dispel the
never give our assentto anything but that ofwhich we gel
devil's illusions, but to guarantee self-mastery.
a convincingsense-impression.rre
To foster mistrust of our representations,Epictetus pro_
poses two kinds of exercises.One form is borrowed directly
There is another exercise Epictetus describes which has
from the Sophists.And in this classicalgameof the sophistic
the sameobiect, but the form is closer to those employed later
schools,one ofthe studentsaskeda question,and another stu_
in the Christian tradition. It consistsin walking through the
dent had ro answer it without falling into the sophistic trap.
streetsof the city and asking yourself whether any representa-
An elemenrary example of this sophistic game is this one:
tion that happens to come to your mind depends upon your
Question: "Can a chariot go through a mouth?',Answer: .,yes. will or not. If it doesnot lie within the province of moral pur-
You yourself said the word, chaiot, and it went through your
poseand will, then it must be rejected:
mouth." Epictetus criticized such exercisesas unhelpful, and
proposed another for the purpose of moral training. In this
Go out of the house at early dawn, and no matter whom
game there are also ttvo partners. One of the parrners states
you seeor whom you hear,examine him and then answer
a fact, an event, and the other has to answer,as quickly aspos_
as you would to a question. \7hat did you see?A hand-
sible, whether this fact or event is good or evil, i.e., is within
someman or a handsomewoman?Apply your rule. Is it
or beyond our control. W'ecan seethis exercise,for example,
outside the province of the moral purpose, or inside?
in the following texr:
Outside. Away with it. \7hat did you see?A man in grief
over the death of his child? Apply your rule. Death lies
As we exerciseourselvesto meet the sophisticalinterro_
outside the province of the moral purpose.Out of the way
gations,so we ought also to exerciseourselvesdaily to
with it. Did a Consul meet you? Apply your rule. \7hat
meet the impressionof our senses, becausethesetoo put sort of thing is a consulship?Outside the province of the
interrogationsto us. So-and-so'sson is dead. Answer.
moral purpose, or inside? Outside. Away with it, too, it
"That lies outsidethe sphereof the moral purpose,it is
not an evil." His father has disinheritedSo_and_so:
what
do you think of it? "'Ihat lies outsidethe sphereof the
I 19. Epictetus, Thc Discoursesas Reported b1 Atrinn,lll,8.
 M i c h e lF o u c a u l t
doesnot meet the test; throw it away,it does not concern
you. If we had kept doing this and had exercisedour-
selvesfrom dawn till dark with this principle in mind-
by the gods,somethingwould have b..n u.hi.u.d"ro
As you can see,Epictetuswants us to constitutea world of
representationswhere nothing can intrude which is not sub-
ject to the sovereigntyofour will. So,again,self-sovereigntyis
the organizing principle of this form of self-examination.
I would have liked to have analyzed two more texts from
Marcus Aurelius, but given the hour, I have no time left for
this. So I would now like to turn to my conclusions.
In reading these texts about selÊexamination and under-
lining the differences between them, I wanted ro show you,
first, that there is a noticeable shift in the parrhesiastic prac-
tices between the "master" and the .disciple." previously,
when pathesia appeared in the context of spiritual guidance,
the master was the one who disclosed the truth about the dis-
ciple. In these exercises, the master still uses frankness of
speechwith the disciple in order to help him become aware
of the faults he cannot see (Seneca uses panhesin towards
Serenus, Epictetus vsespaffhesia rowards his disciples); but
now the use of parrhesrais put increasingly upon the disciple
as his own duty towardshimself. At this point the truth about
the disciple is not disclosedsolely through the parrhesiastic
discourse of the master, or only in the dialogue between the
master and the disciple or interlocutor. The truth about the
disciple emergesfrom a personalrelation which he establish-
120.Ibid.,3.Cf.MichelFoucault,
Le Souci
de soi,79-Bl;Foucault
inter-
view: "On the Genealogy of Ethics," 249.
F E A R L E s sS P E E c H
es with himself: and this truth can now be disclosed either to
himself (as in the first example from Seneca)or to someone
else(as in the secondexamplefrom Seneca).And the disciple
must also test himself, and check to seewhether he is able to
achieveself-mastery (as in the examplesfrom Epictetus).
Secondly,it is not sufficient to analyze this personal rela-
tion of self-understanding as merely deriving from the gener-
al principle "gnothi sssv16n"-"l4now thyself." Of course, in a
certain generalsenseit can be derived from this principle, but
we cannot stop at this point. For the various relationships
which one has to oneselfare embeddedin very precisetech-
niques which take the form of spiritual exercises-some of
them dealing with deeds,others with statesof equilibrium of
the soul, others with the flow ofrepresentations,and so on.
Third point. In all these different exercises,what is at
stake is not the disclosureofa secretwhich has to excavated
from out of the depths of the soul. What is at stake is the rela-
tion of the self to truth or to some rational principles. Recall
that the question which motivated Seneca'sevening self-
examination was: Did I bring into play those principles of
behavior I know very well, but, as it sometimeshappens,I do
not alwaysconform to or alwaysapply?Another questionwas:
Am I able to adhere to the principles I am familiar with' I
agreewith, and which I practicemost of the time? For that was
Serenus'question. Or the question Epictetus raised in the
exercisesI was just discussing:Am I able to react to any kind
of representationwhich showsitself to me in conformity with
my adopted rational rules? \fhat we have to underline here is
this: ifthe truth ofthe selfin theseexercisesis nothing other
than the relationof the self to truth, then this truth is not pure-
ly theoretical.The truth of the self involves,on the one hand,
a set of rational principles which are grounded in general
 MichelFoucault

statementsabout the world, human life, necessity,happiness,

freedom, and so on, and, on the other hand, practical rules for
behavior. And the question which is raised in these different
exercisesis oriented towards the following problem: Are we
familiar enough with these rational principles? Are they suIfi-
ciently well-established in our minds to becomepractical rules
for our everyday behavior? And the problem of memory is at
the heart ofthese techniques,but in the form ofan attempt to
remind ourselvesof what we have done, thought, or felt so that
we may reactivate our rational principles, thus making them
as permanent and as effective as possible in our life. These
exercisesare part of what we could call an "aesthetics of the
self." For one does not have to take up a position or role
towards oneself as that of a judge pronouncing a verdict. One
can comport oneself towards oneself in the role of a techni- Concluding I{crrrrtl'l<s
cian, of a craftsman, of an artist, who from time to time stops
working, examines what he is doing, reminds himself of the
rules of his art, and compares these rules with what he has
achievedthus far. This metaphor of the artist who stops work-
ing, stepsback, gains a distant perspective, and examineswhat
he is actually doing with the principles of his art can be found in
Plutarcrr*sessay,"On the Control of Anger" [Ilep't copyqoio4].t"

l2l. Plutarch writes: "A good plan, as it seems to me...is that which
painters follow: tley scrutinize their productions from time to time before
they finish them. They do this because, by withdrawing their gaze and by
inspecting their work often, they are able to form a fresh judgment, and
one which is more likely to seize upon any slight discrepancy, such as
the familiarity of unintemrpted contemplation will conceal." ['lJn the
Control of Anger," Tians. W. C. Helmbold, 452f453a)
I | Â R L E S SS p E E c H

And now a few words about this seminar.

The point of departure.My intention was not to deal with
the problem of truth, but with the problem of the truth-teller,
or of truth-telling as an activity. By this I mean that, for me, it
wâs not a question of analyzing the internal or external crite-
ria that would enablethe Greeksand Romans,or anyone else,
to recognizewhether a statementor proposition is true or not.
At issuefor me was rather the attempt to considertruth-telling
as a specific activity, or as a role. But even in the framework of
this generalquestion of the role of the truth-teller in a society,
there were severalpossibleways to conduct the analysis.For
instance,I could have compared the role and status of truth-
tellers in Greek society, Christian societies, non-Christian
societies-the role of the prophet as a truth-teller, the role
of the oracle as a truth-teller, the role of the poet, of the expert,
of the preacher,and so on. But, in fact, my intention was not
to conduct a sociologicaldescription of the different possible
roles for truth-tellers in different societies.\ûhat I wanted to
analyze was how the truth-teller's role was variously prob-
lematized in Greek philosophy. And what I wanted to show
you was that if Greek philosophy has raised the problem of
truth from the point of view of the criteria for true statements
and sound reasoning,this same Greek philosophy has also
raised the question of truth from the point of view of truth-
telling as an activity. It has raised questionslike: \ù7hois able
to tell the truth? rù(hatare the moral, the ethical, and the spir-
itual conditions which entitle someoneto present himself as,
and to be consideredas,a truth-teller? About what topics is it
important to tell the truth? (About the world? About nature?
About the city? About behavior? About man?) !ùflhatare the
consequencesof telling the truth? \7hat are its anticipated
positive effects for the city, for the city's rulers, for the
 M i c h e l F o u c au l l
individual?, etc. And finally: rù(hatis the relation betweenthe
j activity of truth-telling and rhe exerciseof power? Should
truth-telling be brought into coincidencewith the exerciseof
i'
power, or should these activities be completely independent
and kept separate?Are they separable,or do they require one
another?Thesefour questionsabout truth-telling as an activ-
ity-who is able to tell the truth, about what, with what con-
sequences,and with what relation to power-seem to have
emerged as philosophical problems rowards the end of the
Fifth Century around Socrates,especiallythrough his con-
frontations with the Sophists about politics, rhetorics, and
ethics.
And I would sayrhat the problematizationof truth which
characterizesboth the end of Presocraricphilosophy and the
beginning of the kind of philosophy which is still ours today,
this problematization of truth has two sides, two major
aspects.One side is concernedwith ensuring that the process
of reasoningis correct in determining whether a statementis
true (or concernsitself with our ability to gain accessto the
truth). And the other side is concernedwith the question:
I7hat is the importancefor the individual and for the society
of telling the truth, of knowing rhe truth, of having people
who tell the truth, as well as knowing how to recognizethem?
tù(/iththat side which is concernedwith determining how to
ensure that a statementis true we have the roots of the great
tradition in \ùTestern philosophy which I would like to call the
"analyticsof truth." And on the other side,concernedwith the
question of the importance of telling the truth, knowing who
is able to tell the rruth, and knowing why we should tell the
truth, we havethe roots of what we could call the "critical" tra-
dition in the rJ(Iest.
And here you will recognize one of my tar-
gets in this seminar, namely to construct a genealogy of the
F E A R L E s sS P E E c H
critical attitude in \Testern philosophy. That constituted the
general objective target of this seminar.
From the methodological point of view, I would like to
underscore the following theme. As you may have noticed,
I utilized the word problcmatizatbnfrequently in this seminar
without providing you with an explanation of its meaning. I
told you very briefly that what I intended to analyze in most
of my work was neither past people'sbehavior (which is some-
thing that belongs to the field of social history), nor ideas in
their representativevalues.\Ù7hatI tried to do from the begin-
ning was to analyze the processof "problematization"- which
means: how and why certain things (behavior, phenomena,
processes)became a problem.t22 \7hy, for example, certain
forms of behavior were characterized and classified as "mad-
ness"while other similar forms were completely neglectedat a
given historical momentl the samething for crime and delin-
quency,the same question of problematization for sexuality.
Some people have interpreted this type of analysis as
a form of "historical idealism," but I think that such an analy-
sis is completelydifferent. For when I say that I am studying
the "problematization" of madness,crime, or sexuality' it is
not a way of denying the reality of such phenomena.On the
contrary, I have tried to show that it was precisely some real
existent in the world which was the target of social regulation
at a given moment. The question I raise is this one: How and
why were very different things in the world gathered together,
characterized, analyzed,and treated as, for example, "mental
illness"? \ù[hat are the elements which are relevant for a given
"problematization"?And even if I won't say that what is char-
/jUscgedesplaisirs,
122.Cf.MichelFoucault, 16-19.
 MichelFoucault F E A R L E S sS P E E c H

acterizedas "schizophrenia"correspondsto somethingreal in tion, you cannot infer that this kind of problematizationwill
the world, this has nothing to do with idealism. For I think follow. Given a certain problematization, you can only under-
there is a relation between the thing which is problematized stand why this kind of answer appearsas a reply to some con-
and the processof problematization.The problematizationis crete and specific aspectof the world. There is the relation of
an "answer" to a concretesituation which is real. thought and reality in the processof problematization. And
There is also a mistaken interpretation according to that is the reason why I think that it is possible to give an
which my analysisof a given problematizationis without any analysis of a specific problematization as the history of an
historical context, as if it were a spontaneousprocesscoming answer-the original, specific, and singular answer of
from anywhere. In fact, however, I have tried to show, for thoughr-to a certain situation. And it is this kind of specific
instance,that the new problematizationof illness or physical relation betweentruth and reality which I have tried to ana-
diseaseat the end ofthe l8th Century was very directly linked lyze in the various problematizations of panhesn.
to a modification in various practices, or to the development
of a new social reaction to diseases,or to the challengeposed
by certain processes,and so on. But we have to understand
very clearly,I think, that a given problematizationis not an
effect or consequenceof a historical context or situation, but is
an answer given by definite individuals (although you may
find this sameanswer given in a seriesof texts, and at a certain
point the ânswermay becomeso generalthat it also becomes
anonymous).
For example, with regard to the way that panhesia was
problematizedat a given moment, we can see that there are
specilic Socratic-Platonicanswersto the questions:How can
we recognize someone as a panhesiastes? \7hat is the impor-
tance of havin g a parrhesiastesfor the city? \7hat is the training
of a good panhesiastes?-answers which were given by
Socratesor Plato. These answersare not collectiveones from
any sort ofcollective unconscious.And the fact that an answer
is neither a representation nor an effect of a situation doesnot
mean that it answersto nothing, that it is a pure dream, or an
"anti-creation." A problematization is always a kind of cre-
ation; but a creation in the sensethat, given a certain situa-
h

À
Cd
f-{
b0

Êa
Sruorgsox Pnnnnesta

Ancient Authors

PHILODEMUS. flepi nappqoro,ç. Ed. Alexander Olivleri; Leipzig: B. G.

Tèubneri. 19I4.

PLUTARCH. "How to Tèll a Flatterer fiom a Friend." Tians. Frank Cole

Babbitt in Plunrch\ Moralia, Vol. l; Cambridge and London: Harvard &
Heinemann, 1969 (Loeb Classical Library); 26t-t95.

Modern Authors

BARTELINK, Gerhardus Johannes Marinus. "Quelques observations sur

napploto dans la littérature paléo-chrétienne," in Graecitas et Latinitds
Christianorumpimaeoa, Supp. III; Nifmegen: Dekker & Van de Vegt, 1970;

COQUIN, R. G. "Le thème de la ncrppqotcr et ses expressions symbol-

iques dans les rites d'initiation à Antioche," in Proche-Orient chrétien 20
( 1 9 7 0 ) :3 - 1 9 .

DEIù(/ITT' Norman \f. "Parrhesiastic Poems of Horace," Classicul

Philolos 30 (1935): 312-319.

ENGELS, L. "Fiducia dans la Vulgate, Le problème de la traduction ntrlr

prloio-fiducia," in C,raecitaset Latinitas Christianorum primaeva, Supp. Ir
Nijmegen: Dekker & Van de Vegt, 1964; 97-141.

GIGANTE, Marcello. "Filodemo sulla libertà di parola," in his Riccrr*,

Filodemee;Napoli: Gaetano Macchiaroli Editore, 1969; 4l-61.

-. "Philodème: Sur la liberté de parole." inActes du VIII'Congrés (l'urt:.

5-10 aoril 1968), Association Guillaume Budé; Paris: Société d'Edirr,,rr
"Les Belles Lettres," 1969;196-217 [French translation ofabove].

-. '
"Motivi paideutici nell' opera filodemea sulla libertà di parolrr
CronacheErcolanesi 4 (1974): 38-)9.

HOLSTEIN, H. "La ncrppqoiû, dans le Nouveau Testament," in lil,/,

si-echrétienne53 ( 1963): 45-54.
178
IAEGER, Hasso. "flcrpprloicr et fiducia. Étude spirituelle des mots,"
in StudiaPatristicaI (Berlin, 1957):221-239.
JOUÔ\ Paul. "Divers sensde nctppqota dansle NouveauTèstament,"
de Science
Rechuches 30 (1940):239-242.
religieuse
Lexieon;Oxford, 1968;
LAMPE, C.V/.H."flcrppqau" inA Patistic Ctteeh
cols.10,14-1046.
LIDDELL, Henry G. & SCOTI Robert."flopprlotcr" inl Cneek-English
LexiconOxford; ClarendonPress,1968[Ninth Edition]; 13'14.
MIQUEL, Pierre. "flcrppqoicr" in Dittionnaire tle Spiritualité,Vol. 12;
Paris: Beauchesne,1984;cols.260-267.
MOMIGLIANO, Arnaldo. "Freedomof Speechin Antiquity" in Philip P
\ù(iener, ed. Dictionary of the History of ldeas, Vol. 2; New York:
CharlesScribner'sSons,1973;252-261.
PETERSON, Erik. "Zur Bedeutungsgeschichtevon flapplotct," in
rùûilhelmKoepp, ed.,ReinholdSeebergFestschift,Vol. I: Zur Theorie des
Christentums;Leipzig: A. DeichertscheVerlagsbuchhandlung D. Werner
Scholl, 1929;283-297.
PHILIPPSON, Robert. Rezension von Philodemi, flep't roppr1oroç;
BerlinerPhilologische 36 (1916): 677488.
lVochenschift
RADIN, Max. "Freedomof Speechin Ancient Athens,"AmericanJournal
of Philolost 48 (1927):215-230.
RAHNER, Karl. "flcrpprloto von der Apostolatstugenddes Christen,"
GeistundLeben31 (1958):l-6.
RODRIGUEZ, J. V "flcppqotcr teresiana,"Reùsta de Espiituahdad 40
(1981):527-573.
SCARPAI Giuseppe.Panhesia.Storia del rerminee delle sue traduzioni
in LatinotBrescia:PaideiaEditrice,1964.
179
SCHLIER, Heinrich. "flopplotcr, roppnordçopûr" in Gerhard Kittel,
ed.,Theological Dictionary of the New Tèstament,Vol. 5; Grand Rapids: I7m.
B. Eerdmans, 1967; 87I-886.
SMOLDERS, D. "Ijaudace de I'apôtre selon saint Paul, Le thème de la
nopprloro," Collecwnea Mechliniensia 43 (Louvain, 1958): l-30; ll7-113.
STÀHLI\ Ifilhelm. "Parousia und Parrhesia,' in Leo Scheffczyk,
lVerner Deffloff, und Richard Heinzmann, eds., lYahrheit und Verkùnd-
ignzg; Paderborn: Schoningh, 1967; 229-235.
STEIDLE, B. "Ila,ppqoio-praesumptio in der Klosterregel St.
Benedikts," in Zeugnis des Geistes; Beuron: Beuroner Kunstverlag, 1947;
4Mr.
TOMADAKES, N. B. Ilcppqorcr-rtrppnorcrortrôç" in Epèteris Hetaireias
Byzantinôn Spoudôn 33 (1964): fasc. l.
VAN UNNIK, \ùfl C. De Semitische Achtergrond oan llapprlcia In Het
Nieutpe Testamezt;Amsterdam: Noord-Hollandsche Uitg. Mii., 1962.
-. "The Christian's Freedom of Speech in the New ïbstament," Bulletin
of theJohn Rylnnds Libraty 44 (1962):46988.
-. "tlopprloio in the 'Catechetical Homilies' of Theodore of
Mopsuestia," in Mélanges ffiræ à Mademoiselle Christine Mohrmann;
Utrecht-Anvers, 1963; 12-22.
VOSTER, lÙf. S., "The Meaning of lloppqora in the Epistle to the
Hebrews," Neotestamenica5 (I971): 5l-59.
AxcrexrAurxoRsCrreo
ARISTOTLE. ConstiutionofAthens,ïians. E G. Kenyon inThe Complete
lVorksofAristotle.Ed. J. Barnes;Princeton: Princeton U. Press,1984,Vol.
-. Nionwchean Ethics,Tians. Wi D. Ross,revised by J. O. Urmson in
TheCompletelVmhsof Aristotle,op.eit.,Yol. 2.
r80
DEMOSTHENES. "ThiTd Philippic," Tians. J. H. Vince in DemosthenesI:
Olynthiacs, Philippics and Minor Orations; Cambridge and London:
Harvard & Heinemann, 1930 (Loeb Classical Library).
DIO CHRYSOSTOM. "The Fourth Discourse on Kingship," "The Fifth
Discourse: A Libyan Myth," and "The Ninth, or Isthmian, Discourse" in
Dio Chrysostom,Vol. l; Tians. J. \ù(/ . Cohoon; Cambridge and London:
Harvard & Heinemann, l97l (Loeb Classical Library).
DIOGENES LAERTIUS. Lioes of Eminent Philosophers. Tians. R. D.
Hicks; 2 Vols.; Cambridge and London: Harvard & Heinemann, 1980
(Loeb Classical Library).
EPICTETUS. The Discoursesas Reportedby Arian. Tians. tù(. A. Oldfather;
2 Vols.; Cambridge and London: Harvard & Heinemann, 192ÇL928
(Loeb Classical Library).
EURIPIDES. The Bacchae; Ion; Thc Vomen of Tioy; in The Bacehae and
Other Plays. Tians. Philip Vellacott; New York: Penguin Books,1980.
-. Electra in Medea and Other Plays, Tians. Philip Vellacott; New York:
Penguin Books, 1982.
-.
Hippolytus, in Three Plays. Tians. Philip Vellacott; New York: Penguin
Books, 1979.
-. The Suppliant lVomen; The Phoenician lVomen; Orestesin (hestes and
Other Plays. Tians. Philip Vellacott; New York: Penguin Books, 1983.
-. Ion. Tians. Ronald Frederick Villetts in Eunpides 11l; Chicago:
U. ofChicago Press, 1974.
GALEN. "The Diagnosis and Cure ol thc Soul's Passions" in On the
Passions and Erors of the Soul. Tians. I'aul W. Harkin; Ohio State
U. Press,1963;25-69.
ISOCMTES. "To Nicocles." Tians. Georgc Norlin in Isocrates, Vol. l;
Cambridge and London: Harvard & Hcincmann, 1968 (Loeb Classical
Library).
-. 'lians.
"Areopagitus," "On the Peace." George Norlin in Isocrates,
181
Vol. 2; Cambridge and London: Harvard & Heinemann, 1968.
tùTright in 77re
JULIAN. "To the Uneducated Cynics." Trans. Ifilmer Cave
lYorks of Emperor Julian, Yol.2; London and New York: Heinemann &
'Ihe
Macmillan Co., l9l3 (Loeb Classical Library).
LUCIAN. "The Dead Come to Life, or The Fisherman." Trans. A. M.
Harman in The Vorhs of Lucian, Yol.3; Cambridge and London: Harvard
& Heinemann, 1962 (Loeb Classical Library).
-. "The Passing of Peregrinus," "The Runaways." Tians. A. M. Harman
in The l[/orks of Lucian, Vol. 5; op. cit
MUSONIUS RUFUS. "On taining," in Cora E. Lutz, Musonius Rufus:
New Haven: Yale U. Press, 1947;51-57.
PLATO. Gorgial Tians. R. E. Allen in his Tfre Dialogues ol l'luro, \'ol L
New Haven: Yale U. Press, 1984.
-. L a c h e s .T i a n s . W R . M . L a m b i n P l a t o : L ù h t \ , l ' t t , t , t ' ' , ' t ' t \ r
Euthydemus;Cambridge and London : H:rrvrrrl & I I c rrr, rrr.rrr r, I "
Classical Library).
-. R e p u b l i cT, i a n s .I r À { . ( l t r r r r l , ' r , l I , , r , 1 ,, II I ! I
-. T h eL a w s . ' l i a r r s I l t , ' t t r . r I" l ' . r , 1 ,
- . L e n e r V I I . T r a n s . l . . r \ l \ ' r r r r ,l l I
eds.,Plato. The Collectedl)ulrryu, '. \, ,. ,
P L U T A R C H . " T h e E d u c a t i o no l ( . l r r l , l r , '
P l u t a r c h ' s M o r a l i a , V o l . l ; ( l a r r r l ' rr , l r , ,, 1 L
Heinemann, 1969 (Loeb Classical I-il'r rrrr
-. "On the Control of Angerr" "Crtnectrtttrl' Lit ,
T ( 1C . H e l m b o l d i n P l u n r c h ' s M o r a l i a , V r l . ( ' . t . . t t r r l , t rl r
Harvard & Heinemann, 1962 (Loeb Classierl Lrl'r rrrr
-. " S t o i c S e l f - C o n t r a d i c t i o n s . "l a n s . H a r o l d ( - h c r r r r s r t t r /
M o r a l i a , V o l . 1 3 ,p a t 2 ; C a m b r i d g ea n d L o n d o n : I l a r v r r r , l \ l l , , , ,
1976 (Loeb Classical Library).
182 183

QUINTILLIAN. TheInstitutioOramriaof Quintillian.Tians. H. E. Butler;
London & New York: Heinemann& G. P Putnam'sSons,192l-1933
(Loeb ClassicalLibrary).
SENECA."On Anger," "On Tianquillity of Mind." Tians.John W. Basore
3 vols.;Cambridge& London: Harvard & Heinemann,
in Moral Essays,
I928 (Loeb ClassicalLibrary).
THEOGNIS. Elegirs.Trans. Dorothea \?'ender in Hesiodand Theognis;
New York: PenguinBooks, 1982.
FOUCAULT, Michel. "Sexuality and Solitude" [with Richard Sennett].
London Reoiew of Books, 2l May-} June 1982; 3-7.
-. "On the Genealogy of Ethics: An Overview of Work in Progress."
Interview with Hubert L. Drefus and Paul Rabinow in their Michel
Foucault: Beyond Structuralism and Hermeneutics [Second Edition];
Chicago: U. of Chicago Press, 1983; 229-252. An abridged version of this
interview appeared in VanityFtair(Yol.46, November 1983): 6l-69.
-. The Use of Pleasure. New York: Random House, 1995.

XENOPHON. Oeconomicus. Tlans. Carnes Lordin in Leo Strauss's -. The Care of the Self. New York: Random House, 1986.
Ithaca: Cornell U. Press,1970;l-80.
SocraticDiscoursas;
Xenophon's
GIGANTE, Marcello. "'Philosophia Medicans' in Filodemo," Cronache
PSEUDO-XENOPHON [The Old Oligarch]. The Constitutionof the Ercolanesi5 (1975): 53-61.
Atheni,ans.Tians. Hanvig Frisch in his The Constitutinnof theAthenians:
A Philological-HismicalAnalysisof pseudo-Xenophon\TieatiseDe Re Publica HADOT, Pierre. Exercisesspiituels et philosophte ûntiquz. Paris: Etudes
Athenicnsium;Copenhagen: GlydedalskeBoghandel-NordiskForlag,1942. augustiennes, 198l.

Mooenx Aurxons Ctreo HIJMANS, Beniamin L. Ashesis:Noteson Epictetus'Educational System.

(\ûijsgerige teksten en studies, 2) Assem, Van Gorcum, 1959.

BONNE& RobertJ.lspaclsof AthenianDemocracy. Berkeley:U. of Califor- r J ? e r n c r l.' t r d e t u : ' l ' l u ' I d t u l s o l O r L L k ( . r / t r r r ' . ' l i a n s . ( i i l b c r t
nia Press,1933[ChapterIV: Freedomof Speech]. JAEGER,
Highet; New York: ()xfortl U. I'rtss. l().15

DEWITI Norman !ù[. "Organization and Procedure in Epicurean

J O N E S , A . H . M - " ' l h c A t h c r t r u tl ) t t t r , ' , t , t , .\ u r ( lr t . ( r r l r ( , . r n l ! r '
Groups." ClassiralPhilolog 3l (1936):205-211.
A t h e n i a nD e m o c r a e yO. x f o r d : l . l : t s r l l l l t k s t l l . l ( r \ i . l l , . '
-. "EpicureanContubernium," and Proceedings
Tiansactions of theAmerican
67 (1936):55-63. J O N E S , C h r i s t o p h e r P T h e R o n u t n l l ' i r l d , t l l ) t , ' ( l t r t \ , r \ / , , , , (/ . r t r r l ' n , l r ' ,
PhilologkalAssociation
Harvard U. Press, 1978.
-. Epicurusand HisPhilosop,hy.
Minneapolis: U. of Minnesota Press,1954
LUTZ,CoraE.Musonius Ralzs. New Havcn: Yrlc U I'rtsr. l'rl.'
[ChapterV: The New Schoolin Athens].
O\VEN, A.S. Euipides, Ion. Oxford: Clarendon l)ress, | ()\ /
DIELS, Hermann.Die Fragmente Ed. W. Kranz; Berlin,
der Vorsohratiher.
t951.
SAYRE, Ferrand,. Dugenes of Sinope: A Study of Greek (,vr rcnnr l J.rl t r rrr,,r,
J.H. Furst Co., 1938.
DOVER, K. I. "ClassicalGreek Attitudes to SexualBehavior."Arethusa6
(1973\:59-73.
VANDENBROUCKE, François. "Démon," Dictionnuirc tlt .\ptrrurltt,
V o l . 3 . 1 9 5 7 rc o l s . l 4 l - 2 3 8 .