VCE Philosophy

Unit 4
Extracts of Prescribed Texts

Eros and Eudaimonia

philosophy.ucsd.edu

The Good Life

Unit 4 Philosophy: VCAA-Prescribed
extracts of texts
All prescribed text selections for Unit 4 provided here (identified in bold),
along with some supporting resources.
SOCRATES AND CALLICLES
Plato (trans. Christopher Extracts from Plato’s Gorgias Page 3
Rowe)
Christopher Rowe Gorgias translation notes Page 28
VSV Summary of Gorgias Page 34
Former VSV student A defence of Callicles Page 39
ARISTOTLE
Aristotle (trans. WD Ross) Extracts from Book 1 of Nicomachean Page 41
Ethics
Book 2 of Nicomachean Ethics Page 48
Dr. Penny Davis Notes on Reading the Nicomachean Ethics Page 56
NIETZSCHE
Friedrich Nietzsche (trans. Extracts from Beyond Good and Evil Page 60
RJ Hollingdale)
SUSAN WOLF
Susan Wolf Chap 1 of Meaning in Life and Why it Page 67
Matters
 GORGIAS
t GORGIAS
e fOi them, ~hereas I was upholding the contrary view.
I was claiming that Archelaus or anyone else who
does wrong without paying the penalty is likely to be
far worse off than others; that doing wrong always
makes people more miserable than suffering wrong
does; and that evading punishment alwavs makes
people more miserable than paying the pen~lty does.
Wasn't that what I was saying?
POLOS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And have I been proved right?
POLUS: Apparently.
Socrates co~cludes his bout with Polus by reintrodu-
cing rhetonc and arguing-not without irony-that it
should not be used to evade punishment for one's crimes
but on the contrary for getting one's family and friend;
pun;shed w_hen the')! have done wrong, and for getting
on_e s enemies acquitted for any crimes they have com-
mttt~d, ~ecause that is worse for them than b ·
if) 1 punished. emg
di
·- l 480a All right, the!?-· If what _we've been saying is
SOCRATES:
O"Jj
).., l
true? Polu~, what particular use 1s rhetoric? What I'm
g_ettmg at 1s this. We've reached a point in the discus-
&1 s10n where we're bound to say that our chief concern
should be to avoid doing wrong, because of all the
bad consequences it'll bring for us. Do you agree'
POLUS: Yes. · POLUS: It sounds extraordinary to me, Sdcrates, but I e
soc~TES: What if a person does do wrong, however
or if someo?-e he cares for does? He should go of hi;
ow~ free will to where he'll find the swiftest possible
pumshment. That is, he should appear before a judge
as he would before a_ doctor, and he should hurry t~
b make sure that the ailment which is immorality does
~ot become entrenched, rot his mind and make it
mcurable. I don'~ see what ~lse we can' say, Polus, ;s
long as our earher conclusions remain unshaken. If
w~ want what we're saying now to be consistent
w1hth what we were saying before, we can't put it anv
ot er way, can we? · to someone else instead, you have to use all your
60
pg. 3
rows: No, of course we can't, Socrates.
socRATES: SQ this rnles out using rhetoric to defend
wrongs, Polus, whether they're being committed by
ourselves, our parents, friends, children, or country.
We could only find a use for rhetoric, in fact, on the
opposite assumption-that our first priority should c
be to denounce ourselves and then, secondly, any of
our family and friends who happen to be doing wrong
at any time, and that we should m~ke ~ny crime they
commit public rather than concealmg 1t, so that they
can pay the penalty for it and get :well again. From
this point of view we should reqmre ourselves and
everyone else not to flinch, but to put a brave face on
it and submit courageously and fearlessly to the cau-
tery and surgery of the doctor, as it were. With our
sights set on goodness and morality, we sh~uld take
no account of the pain. We should submit to the
lash if that's what the crime warrants, or to impris-. d
on~ent if that's what we deserve. If we're fined, we
should ~ay up; if we've earned exile, we must go; if
the penalty is death, we should let ourselves be ex-
ecuted. We should be the first to denounce ourselves
dnd the people close to us, and the use to which we
should out rhetoric is to expose their crimes and save
them £;om the worst of all conditions, immorality.
Shall we commit ourselves to this view, Polus, or not_L_ S
suppose to your mind it fits. in with what we were
saying earlier. · .
SOCRATES: The only choice we've got, then, is between
undermining those earlier conclusions or accepting
this view as their logical consequence. Yes?
POLUS: Yes, that's right.
SOCRATES:• Now, taking the converse situation, and
assuming that in fact one should harm anyone (an ,
enemy, for instance),* then as long as you aren't ·
having wrong done to you by a given enemy-which
is something to watch out for:-and he's doing wrong
61
 T
i
. GORGIAS
481a verbal and practical resources to try to ensure that he
?oes ?ot get punished and does not appear before a
Judge. And if an enemy _of yours does appear there,
you have to_ come _up with a way for him to escape
and so avoid pumshment! If he's stolen a pile of
money, you ha~e to make sure he doesn't give it
~ack, b~t keeps 1t and spends it in godless immoral-
ity on himself and his acquaintances. If death is the
penalty for his crime, you have to keep him alive,
pr_efe:ably for ever, so that he never dies and his
m1qmty ~oes on and on; but if you can't manage
th_at, you d better ens,ure that he lives in his state of
b w1ekedness for as long as possible.
_These are the kinds of circumstances in which I
~~mk rhetor~c has some use,'' Polus. I can't see that
~t s a1:y part1eular use to a person with no criminal
mte~t10ns. Maybe it's no use at all in that situation:
noth1?g c.an:ie up in the previous discussion to make
us thmk 1t 1s.
In _exasperation, Callicles joins the fray. He cannot
b~lreve that Socrates_seri?usly holds these revolutionary
viell!s. Socrates r~P!tes, t~ 7:1etaphorical language, that
he is cer,tain!y voicing his inner convictions-and con-
trasts this with the worldly Callicles' obligation to voice
only what ac~ords with the changing whims of the
f 0Pulace. Callicles locates Polus' mistake as conceding
rhat do_ing wrong is more disgraceful than suffering it.
f!e claims that this view is merely a convention de-
signed _by tke weak to suppress the strong and argues
tkat might ts_ right, by natural law. Socrates' aberrant
views, he ~latms, are due to overindulgence in intellec-
tual pursuits rather than worldly experience. Callicles
ends _his long_ and famous speech with a prophetic
warning_ th~t if Socrates ever finds himself in court, his
zrr:practtcality will leave him incapable of defending
himself.
CA~LICLES: 1:ell me, Chaerephon, is Socrates serious or
1s he havmg us on?
62
GORGIAS pg. 4
CHAEREPHON: I think he's perfectly serious, but there's
nothing like asking the man himself.
CALLICLES: All right, I'd certainly love to do that. Soc-,
rates, may I ask you a question? Are we to take it c
that you're serious in all this, or are you having us.
on? You see, if you're serious, and if what you're,
saying really is the truth, surely human life would be
turned upside down, wouldn't it? Everything we do
is the opposite of what you imply we should be doing.
SOCRATES: Callides, if there weren't areas of overlap
within all the individual variety of human experic
ence-if a person's experiences were private and
couldn't be shared by others-it wouldn't be easy to
communicate one's own experience to anyone else. d
I say this because I have an idea that you and I do
in fact share an experience-that of having two
loves each. I love Alcibiades the son of Cleinias, and
philosophy, and your two loves are the Athenian
populace and Demus the son of Pyrilampes. '' Now,
you're terribly clever, of course, but all the same I've
had occasion to notice that you're incapable of
objecting to anything your loved ones say or believe.
JYou chop and change rather than contradict them. H e
in the Assembly the Athenian people refuse to accept
an idea of yours, you change tack and say what they
want to hear, and your behaviour is pretty much the
same with that good-looking lad of P;1rilampes'. For
instance, you're so incapable" of challenging your loved
ones' decisions and assertions that if anyone were to
express surprise at the extraordinary things they caus~
you to say once in a while, you'd probably respond-
if you were in a truthful mood-by admitting tha.t
it's only when someone stops them voicing these 482a
opinions that you'll stop echoing them. ·
And that's more or less what you're bound to hear
from me as well, you know.So rather than expressing·:
surprise at the things I've been saying, you should
stop my darling philosophy voicing these opinions.
You see, my friend, she's constantly repeating the
63
 GORGIAS
views you've just heard from me, and she's far less
T GORGIAS
fickle than my other love. I mean, Alcibiades says
different things at different times, but philosophy's
views never change, and what you're finding puzzling
b at the moment is typical of what she says. You were
here throughout the discussion, however, so it's up
to you either to prove her wrong by showing, as I
said a short while ago, that wrongdoing-particularly
unpunished wrongdoing-is not absolutely the worst
thing that can happen, or to leave this notion
unrefuted. But if you leave it unrefuted, then I swear
to you by the divine dog of the Egyptians* that it'll
cause friction between you and Callicles, Callicles:
there'll be discord within you your whole life. And
yet, my friend, in my opinion it's preferable for me
to be a musician with an out-of-tune lyre or a choir-
leader with a cacophonous choir, and it's preferable
C for almost everyone in the world to find my beliefs
misguided and wrong, rather than for just one per-
son-me-to contradict and clash with myself.
CALLICLES: Spoken like a true popular orator, I'd say,
Socrates! All that passion! But it's only because what's
happened to Polus is exactly what happened to
Gorgias-and Polus told Gorgias off for letting you
manipulate him into that situation. You asked Gorgias
whe~her he'd teach morality to a hypothetical pupil
of h1s who had come to learn rhetoric and didn't
d already know what was right and what was wrong;
and Gorgias, according to Polus, was embarrassed
int<? saying that he would, because people would
typically be offended if anyone said that he couldn't
teach it. It was as a result of this concession that he
was forced to contradict himself, and Polus went on
to point out that this is exactly the situation you
relish.* He was mocking you then, and I think he
was right to do so, but now it's his turn: exactly the
same thing has happened to him!
To be specific, where I think Polus was at fault
was in agreeing with you that doing wrong is more
64
contemptible than suffering wrong. It _was_ this a?-
pg. 5
mission of his which enabled you to tie him up m e
logical knots and muzzle him; he was just too embar-
rassed to voice his convictions. You pretend that truth
is your goal, Socrates, but in actual fact you steer
discussions towards this kind of ethical idea-ideas
which are unsophisticated enough to have popular
appeal, and which depend entirely on convention,
not on nature."' They're invariably opposed to each
other, you know-nature and convention, I mean-
and consequently if someone is too embarrassed to
go right ahead and voice his convictions, he's bound 483a
to contradict himself. This in fact is the source of the
clever, but unfair, argumentative trick you've devised:
if a person is talking from a conventional standpoint,
you slip in a question which presupposes a natural
point of view, and if he's talking about nature, you
substitute convention. On this matter of doing and
suffering wrong, for instance-to take the case at
hand-Polus was talking about what was more
contemptible from a conventional standpoint, but you
adopted the standpoint of nature in following up
what he said, because in nature everything is more
contemptible if it is also worse (as suffering wrong
is), whereas convention ordains that doing wrong is
more contemptible. In fact, this thing-being wronged
-isn't within a real man's experience; it'j something b
which happens to slaves, who'd be better off dead,
because they're incapable of defending themselves or
anyone else they care for against unjust treatment
and abuse.
In my opinion it's the weaklings who constitute
the majority of the human race* who make the rules.
In making these rules, they look after themselves and
their own interest, and that's also the criterion they
use when they dispense praise and criticism. They try c
to cow the stronger ones-which is to say, the ones
who are capable of increasing their share of things-
and to stop them getting an increased share, by say-
65
 GORGIAS
ing t~at t? _do ~o i~ wrong and contemptible and by
definmg miustice m precisely those terms, as the
attempt to have more than others. In my opinion it's
be_cause they're second-rate that they're happy' for
thmgs t? be distributed equally. Anyway, that's why
convent10n states that ~h~ attempt to have a larger
share than most people 1s immoral and contemptible·
that's why people cal! it doing wrong. But I think w;
?nly have to look at nature to find evidence that it
d 1
s right for better to have a greater share than worse
~or: capable than less capable. The evidence for thi~
1s w1desl?r_ead. Other creature~ show, as do human
c~mmumt1es and nations, that right has been deter-
mm~d a~ follows: the superior person shall dominate
the mfenor person and have more than him. By what
nght_, for instance, did Xerxes make war on Greece
or his father on Scythia,* not to mention countless
e further cases of the same kind of behaviour? These
people act,. surely, in conformity with the natural
essence of ngh_t and, yes, I'd even go so far as to say
that they act m conformity with natural law even
though they presumably contravene our man~made
laws.
What do we do with the best and strongest among
us? We capture them young, like lions mould them
~nd tur? them into slaves by chanti~g spells and
mcantat10ns over them which insist that they have to
484a b_e equal to others and that equality is admirable and
nght. ~ut I'm sure that if a man is born in whom
~ature 1s strong enough, he'll shake off all these limita-
t10,ns, shatter them to pieces, and win his freedom·
he 11 trample all_ our regulations, charms, spells, and
unnatural laws mto the dust; this slave will rise up
a_nd rev_eal himself as our master; and then natural
b nght w1~l blaze forth. I thi_nk Pindar is making the
same pomt as me in the poem where he says * 'Law
lord. of all!- bo~h gods and men .. .' And '1aw, h;
contmues, mst1gates extreme violence with a high
hand and calls it right. Heracles' deeds are proof of
66
GORGIAS
pg. 6
this since without paying for them .. .' Something
like' that-I don't know the actual words, but he says
that Heracles drove off Geryon's cattle without pay-
ing for them and without Geryon giving them to
him, presumably because it was natural just~ce for
him to do so, in the sense that all the belongmgs of
worse, inferior people-not just their cattle--:--are the c
property of a man who is better and supenor.
These are the facts of the matter, and you'd appre-
ciate the truth of what I've been saying if only you'd
forget about philosophy at last and tum to more
important things. The point is, Socrates, it's fine for
a person to dabble in philosophy when he's the right
age for it, but it ruins him if he devotes too much of
his life to it.'' Even a naturally gifted person who
continues to study philosophy far into life is bound
to end up without the experience to have gained the
accomplishments he ought to have if he's to be a d
gentleman with some standing in society. In actual
fact, philosophers don't understand their commun-
ity's legal system, or how to address either political or
private meetings, or what kinds of things people enjoy
and,desire. In short, they're completely out of touch
with human nature. When they do turn to practical
activity, then, in either a private or a political capac-
ity, they make ridiculous fools of themselves-just
as, I imagine, politicians make fools of tp.emselves e
when they're faced with your lot's discussions and
ideas. In other words, Euripides was right when he
said, 'A person shines at, and expends his energy on,
and devotes most of his waking hours to, the activity
at which he happens to excel."' He shuns and reviles
anything he's no good at, and sings the praises of his 485a
own speciality in a self-regarding way, because he
thinks this will increase his own prestige.
It seems to me that the optimum course is to have
a foot in both camps. A certain amount of philoso-
phy helps one to become a cultured person, and it's
fine to take it that far; there's nothing wrong with
67
 GORGIAS
studying philosophy in one's teens. But it's a ridiculous
thing for a person still to be studying philosophy
ev~n later_ in life, Socrates. I feel the same way about
b domg philosophy as I do about stammering and
playfulness. I enjoy seeing a child stammer and play
games when he's still young enough for this kind of
behaviour to be expected from him; it's pleasantly
unaffected, I think, and appropriate to the child's
age. When I hear a young child coming out with
fluent sentences, however, it seems harsh, grates on
my ears, and strikes me as degrading somehow. On
the othe~ hand, the phenomenon of a grown man
C
stammermg or playing childish games seems ridicu-
lous and immature, and you want to give him a good
thrashing.
That's how I feel about people who do philosophy
as .well. I d~m't mind seeing a young lad take up
philosophy: lt seems perfectly appropriate. It shows
!
an oRen mi~d, think, whereas neglect of philosophy
at this age s1gmfies pettiness and condemns a man to
a low estimation of his own worth and potential. On
d the other hand, when I see an older man who hasn't
dropped philosophy, but is still practising it Soc-
rates, I thin~ it is he who deserves a thrashini. You
see, as I said a moment ago, under these circum-
stances e_ven a naturally gifted person isn't going to
develop m_to a real man, because he's avoiding the
heart of h1s community and the thick of the agora
which are the places where, as Homer tells us a ma~
'~ams distinction'.'' Instead he spends the res~ of his
life sunk out of sight, whispering in a corner with
three o~ four _young men, rather than giving open
e affairs instead, and take up the kind of occupat10n
express10n to important and significant ideas.
I'm quite f~nd of you, Socrates, and that's why I
react to you m the same way, as it happens that
Euripides had Zethus (whose words I quoted ~ mo-
ment ago) ~eact to _Amphion. I'm moved to copy
Zethus talkrng to his brother, and say:* 'Socrates,
you're neglecting matters you shouldn't neglect. Look
68
GORGIAS pg. 7
at the noble temperament with which na_ture has
endowed you! Yet what you're famous_ for 1s behav-
ing like a teenager. You couldn't. d~hver_ a proper
soeech to the councils which admm1ster 1ust1ee, or 486a
diake a plausible and persuasive appeal, or put passion
into a proposal designed to help someone else.' And
yet, my dear Socrates-now, please, don't_ get cross:
it's because I'm fond of you that I m gomg to say
this-isn't this state an embarrassment for you and
anyone else who keeps going deeper and deeper into
philosophy? The point is that if you o~ any of. your
sort were seized and taken away to pnson, uniustly
accused of some crime, you'd be incapable-as I'm
sure you're well aware-of doing anything for yo~u-
self. With your head spinning and mouth_ gapmg b
open, you wouldn't know what to say. ~nd 1f, when
you appeared in court, you were faced with a corr_u~t
and unprincipled prosecutor, you'd end up dead, 1f it
was the death penalty he wanted. Oh, Socrates, 'What
a clever discovery this is! It enables you to take a
naturally gifted person and ruin him.',. It make~ a
person incapable of defending h~mself or of rescumg
himself or anyone else from terrible danger; the be~t
he can hope for is that his enemies will stea_l all ~us c
property and let him live on in his commun~ty :,v1th
no status whatsoever, which would make his situa-
tion such that anyone could smash him fo the face (if
you'll pardon the extravagant expression) and not be
punished for it.
No, Socrates, 'please take my advice and stop' your
cross-examinations; 'practise the culture' of worl?ly
which 'will make your wisdom famous, and leave te
others the subtle route' of spouting drivel or rubbish-
these are the right kinds of terms for it-'which leaves
you living in a deserted house'.* Don't model your
behaviour on these quibblers, but on people who
make a living and earn a great many benefits for
themselves, not the least of which is prestige. d
69
 GORGIAS
Socrates professes to be delighted to have found some-
one with the characteristics which will enable him to
te~t the truth of his beliefs. He first begins to under-
mine_ Ca(licles' Nietzschean individualism by arguing
that if it is better to obey the stronger party, then nature
d:crees that it is better to obey the masses, since they
are naturally stronger than any individual. Callicles
frotests, rightly, that by 'stronger' he does not mean
m?re capable of enforcement', and under Socrates'
guidance says that the people he has in mind are the
cleverer (or more astute) ones. Some crude prodding
from Socrates makes him narrow this down further to
those who have applied their intelligence to political
7:1atters and have the courage to ensure that their will
ts carried out. These are the people who should dominate
others and have the lion's share of wealth and so on.
If ~y mind was made of gold, Callicles, don't
SOCRATES:_
yo1: thmk I d be delighted to find one of those stones
whICh are used to test gold, especially if it was a
really go?d one? I could touch my mind to it"' to see
whether 1t confirmed that my mind had been prop-
erly loo~ed after, and then at last I'd know that I
was all nght and that any further testing was super-
fluous.
e CALLICLES: What's the point of this question of yours
Socrates? ' you're not the kind of person to let any sense of
soc~TE~: I'll tell you. I think in meeting you I've met
with Just such a godsend.
CALLICLES: Why?
SOCRATES: If you confirm the beliefs I have in my mind
then I can be surer these beliefs are true , '' because it'
occurs to me t h at ror anyone to be able to test whether
487a or not a person's life is as it should be he has to
have three qualities. These are knowledg~, affection,
and candour, and you have the complete set. I come
across a lot of people, you see, who can't test me
beca~se they don't have your knowledge, and then
there s another lot who are knowledgeable enough,
70
GORGIAS pg. 8
but refuse to tell me the truth because they don't care
for me as you do. Then there are our two visitors
here, Gorgia·s and Polus, who have the knowledge
and are fond of me, but are too easily embarrassed b
to speak their minds. h's indisputable, surely, that
they're riddled with inhibitions. In fact, their sense of
propriety is so acute that they had the gall to contra -
diet themselves in front of a large number of wit-
nesses, and to do so on the most important matters
in the world.
You're the only one with the complete set of quali-
ties, however. You've had what many Athenians
would call an adequate education, and you're fond
of me. What makes me think so? I'll tell you. I'm c
aware, Callides, that the four of you-T eisander of
Aphidnae, Andron the son of Androtion, Nausicydes
of Cholarges, and yourself-tell one another your
ideas, and I once overheard you discussing the ques-
tion of how far intellectual studies should be taken.
I know the conclusion you reached was that detailed
knowledge was undesirable, and you advised one
another to be alive to the danger of being subtly d
corrupted by excessive knowledge. And now you're
giving me the same advice you gave your closest
friends! That's good enough evidence for me: I'm
sure you really are fond of me. Finally, it's clear that
propriety stand in the way of your speaking your
mind; it's not just that you yourself have said you're
not, but also that your earlier words confirm the
truth of this claim.
So it's obvious how things now stand. Any idea of
mine with which you agree during the course of our e
discussion will by that token have been adequately
tested by us and won't require the application of
further tests, because it won't have been lack of
knowledge or an over-developed sense of propriety
that made you agree with it, and since you're fond of
me (as you yourself admit), you won't have done so
71
 GORGIAS
deceitfully .eithe~. In actual fact, then, our agreement
about a pomt will be what conclusively demonstrates
its truth.
T GORGIAS
What sort of person should one be? What should
a person do :With his lif~ and how thoroughly should
he devote h1msdf to his chosen occupation? What
should he. be domg when he's young, and what should
he be domg when he'~ old~r? The attempt to find
488a · answers to .these questions 1s the finest work in the
world, Calhcles. You accused me of being misguided
about ~hese matter.s, but if I'm going wrong any-
where m my own life, the mistake isn't deliberate I
assure you; it's merely the result of stupidity on ~y
part. So please don't stop the kind of criticism you
began, but let me hear a convincing argument about
what I ?ug~lt to do with my life, and how to achieve
that obiectlv~. At:-d if at any time in the future you
ca~ch me act~ng m a way which conflicts with any
pomt on whKh I agre~ with you today, you can
regard me as a total dimwit and as so completely
b hopeless that you needn't criticize me ever again.
Would Y<;m go back to the beginning, though, and
t~ll rr;e agam :wha~ you and Pi~dar mean by natural
nght_. Am I nght m remembermg that according to
you ~t's the forcible seizure of property belonging to
mfer~or people by anyone who is superior, it's the
dommanc~ o~ th~ worse by the better, and it's the
unequal d1stnbut10n of goods, so that the elite have
more than second-rate people?
CALLICLES: That's the view I expressed earlier, and you'd
hear the same from me now.
SO;RATEs.: po you distinguish between 'better' and
c supenor ? I ~a.sn't dear about this before either.
Are. you descnbmg stronger people as superior and
saymg that weaker people should be subject to
someone w~o's st~onger? .I t~ink that was the point
0 .f your ea~her clam~ that it's m keeping with natural
nght for big countnes to attack small ones because
they're superior and stronger. If so, you're 'counting
72
it possible for a better person to be mfenor and com-
paratively weak, and for a supenor pers.on to be
relatively bad? Or do 'better', and 'supenor' mean
pg. 9
'superior', 'stronger', and 'better' as. syn?nyms. Or is
the same? Please can you define your terms more d
precisely and tell me whether or not 'superior',
'better', and 'stronger' are synonyms?
CALLICLES: All right. I state unequivocally that they're
synonymous.
SOCRATES: Well, isn't it natural for the general populace
to be superior to a single individual? After all, as you
yourself said a short while ago, it's the masses who
make the laws under which an individual lives.
cALLICLES: Of course they're superior to a single person.
SOCRATES: Doesn't it follow that any regulation pre-
scribed by the masses is being prescribed by the
superior group?
CALLICLES: Yes.
SOCRATES: It's being prescribed by better people, then, e
isn't it? You said that to be superior is to be better,
didn't you?
CALUCLES: Yes.
socRATIS: From the standpoint of nature, then, their
regulations are good, since the people who prescribe
them are the superior ones. Agreed?
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES: Well, to cite another of your recent state-
ments, the general populace rules that equ:tl d.istribu-
tion of good is right and that doing wrong 1s more
contemptible than suffering wrong, doesn't it? Is that
so or not? Be careful now: we wouldn't want it to be 489a
your turn to fall prey to a sense of propriety at this
point. Do they, or do they not, hold that equal rat~er
than unequal distribution is right, and that domg
wrong is more contemptible than suffering wrong?
Come on, Callides, please answer. Your agreement
would count as confirmation of what I'm saying,
because it would be the agreement of someone with
insight.''
73
 CALUCLES:
GORGIAS
Yes, all right, this is what the general popu-
lace rules.
T GORGIAS
SOCRATES: It isn't only convention, then, which states
that doing wrong is more contemptible than suffer-
b mg wrong, or that equality is right: nature endorses
these vi_ews too.'' So it looks as though you were
wrong m what you were saying before, and also
shouldn't have used the claim that convention and
nature are opposites to cast aspersions at me and
accuse me of arguing unfairly, in the sense that I
know perfectly well that they're opposed and so if
a person is talking from the ,standpoint C:f nature, I
steer the argument towards convention and if he's
talking from a conventional standpoi~t, I steer it
towards nature.
CALLICLES: Won't he ever stop talking rubbish? Tell
me, Socrates, doesn't it embarrass you to pick on
people's mere words at your age'' and to count it a
c g~dsend if someone uses the wrong expression by
mistake.1 Of course I mean that superior people are
~etter., Hav<;n't I . be,en telling you all along that
better and supenor are the same, in my opinion?
What else do you think I've been saying? That law ·
consists of the statements made by an assembly of
slaves and assorted other forms of human debris who
could be completely discounted if it weren't for the
f~ct that they do have physical strength at their
disposal?*
SOCRATES: Oh, I see, Callicles. How very clever of you.
So that's what you mean?
CALLICLES: Yes.
d soc~TES: Actually, my friend, I've had a vague suspi-
CIOn all along myself that this or something like it
was what you meant by 'superior' and the reason
I've been asking you all these que;tions is because
I'm so kee:1 to turn my vague ideas into a proper
u~derstandmg of your meaning. Presumably you don't
thmk that two people are better than one, or that
your slaves are better than you, just because they're
74
pg. 10
stronger than you. Would you start al.I over again,
then ~nd tell me what you mean when you call people
'bet;er' since you don't mean 'stronger'? And please
use a ientler form of instruction, my friend, other-
wise I'll have to leave your school.
CALLICLES: You're not being altogether sincere, e
Socrates.
SOCRATES: Yes I am, Callicles. I swear to you by ... by
Zethus, whom you invoked during your exten~ed
assault on me, when it was you who were keepmg
something back.'' Anyway, please tell me now: who
are the better people, according to you?
CALLICLES: I mean the elite.
SOCRATES: But that doesn't explain anything. Can't you
see that it's you who are stuck at the level of mere
words? Tell me, what is it that makes people better
and superior? Is it greater cleverness, or what? ·
CALLICLES: Yes, that's it, definitely. It's greater clever-
ness, of course.
SOCRATES: Here's your position, then: a single clever 490a
person is almost bound to be superior t? ten thou-
sand fools; political power should be his and they
Jhould be his subjects; and it is appropriate for
someone with political power to have more than his
subjects. Now, I'm not picking on the form of words
you used, but that, I take it, is the implication of
what you're saying-of a single individual being su-
perior to ten thousand others.
CALLICLES: Yes, that's what I mean. In my opinion, that's
what natural right is-for anindividual who is better
(that is, more. clever) to rule over second-rate people
and to have more than them.
SOCRATES: Stop right there! Let's think about this asser- b
tion of yours. Imagine lots of us together in one
place (just as we are now!) with plenty of food and ,
drink available; and imagine that we're a miscellan-
eous bunch, in the sense that we cover the whole
range from strong to weak. Now, among us is a
doctor, let's suppose-in other words, someone who's
75
 GORGIAS
more clever than the rest of us about food and drink-
and it's perfectly plausible to suggest that he'd be
stronger than some of us and weaker than others.
Since he's cleverer than the rest of us, won't he be a
better, superior dietitian?
CALLICLES: I'd say so.
c SOCRATES: Is he to have more of this food than the rest
of us, then, because he's better than us? Wouldn't
it be more appropriate for him to use his position
of authority to distribute all the food, rather than
squandering it on himself? It's true that if he wasted
it on feeding his own body, he'd have the greater
share, but he'd also suffer for it. No, he should have
more than some and less than others, shouldn't he?
Unless he was actually the weakest of us, in which
case he should have the smallest share shouldn't he
Callicles, despite being the best? Isn;t that so, m;
friend?
CALLICLES: You babble on about food and drink and
d doctors and so on, but you're missing the point.
SOCRATES: Isn't your point that a cleverer person is a
better person? Well, is it or isn't it?
CALL!CLES: It is.
SOCRATES: And that a better person ought to have more?
CALLICLES: Yes, but not more food and drink.
SOCRATES: I see. More coats, perhaps? The best weaver
should have a larger coat than anyone else, and should
go arouncl dressed in more and more gorgeous coats
than anyone else. Yes?
CALLICLES: What on earth have coats got to do with it?
SOCRATES: When it comes to shoes, though, it stands to
reason that the larger share has to go to the best
e person-which is to say, the cleverest person in the
field. A shoe-maker presumably has to walk around
wearing larger shoes than anyone else, and mor~ of
them too.
CALLICLES: What ~ave shoe~ got to do with anything?
You keep commg out with this absurd nonsense.
SOCRATES: Well, if that kind of case is irrelevant
'
76
GORGIAS pg. 11
perhaps you're thinking of someone like a farmer,
for instance. He's a fine, clever farmer and good at
his job so I s·uppose he has to have more grain than
anyon~ else and keep as much grain as possible for
his own exclusive use.
CALLICLES: You're just repeating yourself, Socrates-
saying the same things over and over again.
SOCRATES: Yes, and that's not all, Callicles: I keep say-
ing the same things about the same issues as we~l.
CALLICLES: God, yes, I agree. You simply never stop gomg 491a
on and on about cobblers and fullers and cooks and
doctors, as if they had the slightest relevance to our
discussion.
SOCRATES: Why don't you tell us what is relevant? What
is it right for a better, cleverer person to have more
of? In what respect is it fair for him to be up on
others? Are you going to refuse to tell us, as well as
rejecting my suggestions?
CALLICLES: But I can only repeat what I've been saying
all along. The superior people I mean aren't shoe-
makers or cooks: above all, I'm thinking of people
who've applied their cleverness to politics and thought b
about how to run their community well. But clever-
ness is only part of it; they also have courage, wh~ch
enables them to see their policies through to the fimsh
without losing their nerve and giving up. .
SOCRATES: My dear Callicles, there's a very obvious
difference between the charges we're bringing against
each other, isn't there? Your complaint about me is
that, in your opinion, I'm constantly saying the same
things, whereas I find the opposite fault in you-I
think you never say the same things about the same
issues. At one time you claimed that it was extra
strength which determined which people were better c
and superior, then later you said it was extra clever-
ness, and now you've come up with something else
again: your present idea is that the superior and b_etter
ones are the ones with extra courage. Please, Calhcles,
let's get this over with: just tell us what is it that
77

GORGIAS
makes people better and superior, in your opinion,
and what they're better and superior at.
CALLICLES: I've already said that they're clever at pol-
itics and they're brave. Political power within com-
d munities should be in the hands of people with these
characteristics, and right consists in them, the rulers,
having more than the others, who are their subjects.
Socrates raises the question whether Callicles' superior
people are in control of themselves as well as of their
communities. Callicles has rejected conventional moral-
ity, which commends self-control: he thinks that hap-
piness involves self-indulgence. The superior man is
precisely the one who has worked his way into a posi-
tion where he can satisfy any and all of his desires.
Socrates states the opposite view at some length and
with considerable power, but Callicles continues to
maintain his hedonistic position. Socrates therefore
produces two arguments against the equation of pleas-
ure and good.
SOCRATES: But what are they to themselves, Callicles?
CALLICLES: What on earth are you getting at?
SOCRATES: Are they rulers or subjects?
CALLICLES: What do you mean?
SOCRATES: I'm talking about each one of them ruling
himself. Or is there no need for him to rule himself
but only others?*
CALLICLES: What do you mean, 'ruling himself'?
SOCRATES: Nothing complicated, just what people usu-
ally mean by it. That is, being self-disciplined and in
control of oneself, and mastering the pleasures and
e desires which arise within oneself.*
CALLICLES: What a nai:ve thing to say! By 'self-discipline'
you mean 'folly'.
SOCRATES: I can't believe you said that. I don't see how
anyone could fail to appreciate that I mean no such
thing.
CALLICLES: No, Socrates, that's exactly what you mean,
because human happiness is incompatible with
78
GORGIAS
pg. 12
enslavement to anyone.* What nature approves and
sanctions, on the other hand-I'm going to speak
bluntly to you now-is this: the only authentic way
of life is to do nothing to hinder or restrain the
expansion of one's desires, until they can grow no
larger," at which point one should be capable of 492a
putting courage and cleverness at their service and
satisfying every passing whim. Now, I don't think
most people can do this, and that's why they condemn
those who can; they're ashamed, and they try to
disguise their failings by claiming that self-indulgence
is contemptible, which, as I explained earlier,* is an
attempt to enslave those who are naturally better
than them. And why do they praise self-discipline
and justice? Because their own timidity makes them
incapable of winning satisfaction for their pleasures. b
Imagine someone born to inherit a kingdom, or
someone who lacks this initial advantage, but has .
been equipped by nature with the resources for gaining
some position of power-for becoming a dictator,
for example,"' or a political leader. In all honesty,
could anything be more shameful, could anything be
worse for these kinds of people than self-discipline
and justice? They would exchange the freedom to
enjoy the good things of life without interference from
anyone for the voluntary acceptance of a master-
' namely, the conventions, opinions, and strictures of
the majority. Under this wonderful regime of justice c
and self-discipline, how could they possibly be happy,
when even if they did have political power they
wouldn't be able to use it to their friends' advantage
and their enemies' disadvantage? No, Socrates, if you
want to hear the truth (and you do claim that truth
is your goal), it is that if a person has the means to
live a life of sensual, self-indulgent freedom, there's
no better or happier state of existence; all the rest
of it-the pretty words, the unnatural, man-made
conventions-they're all just pointless trumpery.
SOCRATES: Thank you, Callicles, for this generous and d
79
 GORGIAS
frank elaboration of your position. You see, what
yo~'re doing here is giving a clear account of things
whICh other people think, but are reluctant to voice
out loud. Please, I beg you, do all you can to sustain
the momentum, until there's really no chance of our
mistaking the right way to live. I have a question for
yo~. We. shouldn't restrain our desires, you say, if
we re gomg to fulfil our potential, but should let
them grow as large as possible and then do whatever
it takes to ~atisfy them; and this, you claim, is a good
e state of existence. Is that right?
CALLICLES: Yes, that's my position.
SOCRATES: So the idea that people who need nothing are
happy is wrong?
CALLICLES: Yes, because otherwise there'd be nothing
happier than a stone or a corpse.
SOCRA'.ES: Bu~ the people you are calling happy have a
ternfymg life as well. The point is, you see, that it
wouldn't surprise me if Euripides' words were true:
'Who's to say whether life might not be death and
d~ath Iife?"f Perhaps we really are corpses! In fact, I
493a did once also hear a wise man claim that we are dead
and t~at the body is a tomb,'' and that the part of
the mmd which contains the desires is in fact char-
acteriz~d by its susceptibility and its instability. It
was this part of the mind, it seems, which a clever
~-to~y-teller (from Sicily, perhaps, or Italy) called a
Jar , although he derived the name from the fact that
it is plausible and persuasive;* he also identified fools
with non-initiates and said about the part of the mind
b where the desires are located that in fools (which is
to say, when this part is in an unrestrained and "
unc~pp~d st~tet_ it is~ leak)'. j_ar-this is his analogy
for its ms~t1ab1hty. His posltlon is the opposite of
your~, Calhdes: he produces evidence to suggest that
~here s no one m Hades (by which he means all that
1s unseen) 'f worse off than these non-initiates who
go_ about _trfing to fill one leaky jar with wate; they
brmg to 1t m another equally leaky vessel, a sieve.
80
GORGIAS
pg. 13
According to my source, the stor~-teller'~ 'sieve' i:
the mind: he used the image of a sieve to imply that c
the minds 'of fools are leaky, in the sense _that th_e)'.'re
too unreliable and forgetful to prevent thmgs sp11lmg
out. ff I b t .t
This is pretty extraordinary stu , suppose, u 1
does clarify the evidence which I'd like to u~e to
persuade you, if I possibly can, to change Y?ur mmd-:-
to prefer an orderly li~e, in which one 1s . perfectly
content with whatever 1s to hand, to a self-mdulgent
life of insatiable desire. Am I getting through to you
at all? Instead of your previous view, do r:ou accept d
that self-discipline makes for greater ~appmess than
self-indulgence? Or will it make no difference at all
to what you think even if I tell you story after story
with the same moral?
CALLICLES: Now you're nearer the mark, Socrates.
SOCRATES: All right, here's another analogy from the
same school as the one I've just reported. Woul? you
accept something along the following lines as an image
for the different ways our self-controlled person and
our self-indulgent person live? Imagine that both of
them have a number of jars. The jars b~longing _to
one of them are intact and are filled variously with e
wine honey, milk, and so on and so forth. And sup-
pose' that each of these liquids is rare and hard to
come by and that it takes a great deal ;of strenuous
work to get them. Now, once _our first_m~n h~s fille_d
up his jars, he stops channellmg the hqmds mto h1s
jars and gives them no further thought; as far as
they're concerned, he can rest easy. The o_ther cha~-
acter however is just as capable of gettmg the h-
quid:-albeit ~ith the same degree of dif~culty-but
his vessels are cracked and flawed, and he s forced to
work day and night at keeping them _full, or ~lse ~94a
suffer terribly. If this is what the two l~ves are hk~, -
then, would you say that a life of self-mdul~ence 1s
happier than one of self~restrai~t? Does this argu;
ment of mine make any 1mpress10n on you or not.
81
 GORGIAS
Do you begin to agree that that a life of restraint is
better than a life of indulgence?
CALUCLES: No, I'm not convinced, Socrates because the
one with the foll jars can no longer fe~l pleasure *
and that, as I said a moment ago, is the life of' a
stone-for a person to be fully satisfied and so to
s.top feeling either pleasure or distress. An enjoyable
b hfe, .on ~he contrary, consists in keeping as much
pouring m as possible.
SOCRATES: But if there's a lot of stuff pouring in, there
has to be a lot of stuff leaving as well, doesn't there?
So the jars must be very leaky to let it all out, mustn't
they?
CALLICLES: Yes.
SOCRATES:. N~w you are talking about living like a
gully-bir~, ~ ra!her than a stone or a corpse. T eU me,
though: 1s bemg hungry, and eating when one's
hungry, an example of the kind of thing you're
thinking of?
CALLICLES: Yes.
c SOC~TEs: And being thirsty and drinking when one's
thirsty?
CALLICLES: Yes, and experiencing desire in all its other
forms too, and being able to feel pleasure as a result
of satisfying it and so to live happily.
SOCRATES: Thank you very much. This is an exceUent
be~inni~g, and I hope you can carry on in the same
vem without embarrassment. Actually, I'd better
su.1=:press my sense of propriety too, it seems. The
mam question I want to ask is whether a lifetime
spent s~rat~hing, itching and scratching, no end of
scratchmg, 1s also a life of happiness.
d CALLICLEs:. It's incredible, Socrates, how your arguments
are designed purely for popular appeal.
SO~RATEs: '?v7el1, Callides, that may explain my success
m shockmg Polus and Gorgias and making them feel
embarrassed, but there's no way to shock or embar-
rass you-you're. too brave for that. So please just
answer my quest10n.
82
GORGIAS pg. 14
Well, I'd say that a life spent scratching is a
CALLICLES:
pleasant life. . .,
SOCRATES: And a happy life too, then, smce 1t s
pleasant?
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES: Is that the case only if his scratching is re- e
stricted to his head or ... ? Shall I continue this line
of questioning? What would you say, Callicles, if
you were faced with the whole sequen~e <?f relat~d
questions? At the head of the relevan~ list 1s the .life
of a male prostitute-isn't this a terrible, shockmg,
miserable life? I can't believe you'd go so far as to
claim that the endless satisfaction of his needs will
make him happy.
CALLICLES: Doesn't it embarrass you to steer the argu-
ment in this distasteful direction, Socrates?
SOCRATES: Is it me who steers it there, Callicles, or is
this direction prompted by the reckless assertion that
people are happy if they're feeling pleasure? no mat-
ter what the source of the pleasure-that 1s, by the
failure to distinguish between good and bad pleas- 495a
ures?* Could you tell me once and for all whether
in 'your opinion the pleasant and the good are ~he
same, or whether there's even one pleasure which
isn't good? .
CALLICLES: I can't say they're different and s~1ll be con-
sistent so I'll say they're the same. ·
SOCRATES; You're breaking your original promise,*
Callicles. If what you say contradicts what you really
think, your value as my partner in searching for the
truth will be at an end.
CALLICLES: You don't always say what you think either, b
Socrates.
SOCRATES: Well, if that's true, it only makes me just as
wrong as you. But are you really sure, Callicles, that
unrestricted pleasure is good? If it is, all those shoc~-
ing consequences I hinted at a mor:nent ago will
obviously follow, and a lot more besides.
CALLICLES: So you say, Socrates.
83

GORGIAS
SOCRA7:ES: But you're committed to this view, are you
Calhdes?
CALLICLES: yes.
'
c SOCRATES: ?o we can set about our discussion on the
assumpt10n that you're serious?
CALLICLES: We certainly can.
SOCRATES: All right, then. Since that's how you feel
he_re's something for you to sort out. There's some~
thmg you call knowledge, presumably?
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES: An_d w~ren't you talking a short while ago*
about a s1tuat10n in which both knowledge and
courage were involved at once?
CALLICLES: yes, I was.
soc~TES: It's because you think of courage as being
different from knowledge that you spoke of them as
two separate qualities, surely?*
CALLICLES: Certainly.
SOCRATES: Now, do you think pleasure is the same as
knowledge or different?
d CALLICLES: What an intelligent question! It's different
of course. '
SOCRATES: And is courage different from pleasure as well?
CALLICLES: Of course.
SOCRATES: All right, let's have it on record that Callides
?f A~harnae* claims that 'pleasant' and 'good' are
1dent1cal, but that knowledge and courage are differ-
ent from each other and from goodness.
CALLICLES: And what shall we say about Socrates of
Alopece? Does he or does he not agree with Callides?
e SOCRATES: He d~es not. What's more, I think that after
p~oper reflection about his own state, Callides will
disagree too. Here's a question for you. Wouldn't
0
Y_ u s~y that people who live well are in the opposite
situat10n from those who live badly?
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES: Now, if these two states are opposed to each
othe~, then _the same principle which applies to health
and illness 1s bound to apply to them as well, isn't it?
84
pg. 15
GORGIAS
I mean, it isn't possible for a pers~n to be healthy
and illat the same time, or to get nd of health and
sickness at the same time.
CALLICLES: What do you mean?
SOCRATES: Well, any part of the body you want to take
should illustrate my point, if you think about it. _For
instance, you know that a person's eyes ca_n be _m ~ 496a
diseased state, and we say he's got an eye mfect1on.
CALLICLES: Of course.
SOCRATES: He hasn't also got healthy eyes at the same
time, has he?
CALLICLES: Of course not.
SOCRATES: What about when he gets rid of his eye infec-
tion? Is he also at that point getting rid of his eyes'
health too? Does he end up losing both at once?
CALLICLES: Certainly not.
SOCRATES: Because that's too incredible and preposter-
ous a thing to happen, isn't it? b
CALLICLES: Exactly.
SOCRATES: What he does, surely, is gain and lose each
of them alternately, doesn't he?
CALLICLES: Agreed.
SOCRATES: And doesn't the same principle apply to
strength and weakness as well?
CALLICLES: Yes.
SOCRATES: And to speed and slowness? t
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES: Here are some other opposites-things which
are good and things which are bad, the state of hap-
piness and the state of unhappiness. What about
them? Does one alternately gain and lose each of
these pairs?
CALLICLES: No doubt about it.
SOCRATES: Whenever we find a person losing and keep: c
ing things at the same time, then, we'll know that
we're not faced with the good and the bad. Do you
agree with me about this? Please think carefully be-
fore answering.
CALLICLES: Yes, I agree without any reservation at all
85
 GORGIAS
Now let's return to a point that came up
SOCRATES:
earlier. ~Then you mentioned hunger, were you
thinking of it as a pleasant or an unpleasant experi-
ence? I mean the actual hunger.
CALLICLES: I'd say it was unpleasant. When a hungry
person eats, however, that's pleasant.
d SOCRATES: I agree. I see what you mean, but the actual
hunger is unpleasant, isn't it?
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES: Thirst too?
CALLICLES: Definitely.
SOCRATES: Shall I go on with these questions; or do you
agree that need and desire are unpleasant in all their
manifestations?
CALLICLES: Yes, I do. Don't bother with the questions.
SOCRATES: All right. Now, your position is that a thirsty
person finds drinking pleasant, isn't it?
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES:When you say 'thirsty' in this situation, you
mean 'feeling distress', I imagine, don't you?
CALLICLES: yes.
e SOCRATES: Whereas drinking, which is satisfying a need
is also a pleasure? ' cAlLICLES: I don't understand you.
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES:Now, your position is that the pleasant com-
ponent of this situation is due to the drinking, isn't
1t?
CALLICLES: Absolutely.
SOCRATES: It's pleasant for a thirsty person, anyway.
CALLICLES: Agreed.
SOCRATES: Which is to say, for someone who's feeling
distress?
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES: Do you realize what the consequence is? When
you say that a thirsty person is drinking, you're say-
mg that someone who's feeling distress is feeling
pleasure at the same time.* Don't we find that it's
t~e same aspect of oneself (I don't think it makes any
difference whether one thinks of this as the mind or
86
GORGIAS pg. 16
the body)* that is being affected simultaneously by
these two feelings? Am I right or not?
CALLICLES: y OU are.
SOCRATES: Well now, according to you it's impossible
to live well and at the same time to live badly. ·
CALLICLES: Yes. 497a
SOCRATES: You've agreed with me, however, that pleas-
ure and distress can coincide.
CALLICLES: Yes, I suppose they do. .
SOCRATES: It follows that to feel pleasure is not the same
as to live well, and that to feel distress is not the
same as to live badly either. And therefore the pleas-
ant and the good are different.
CALLICLES: I don't know what to make of these clever
arguments of yours, Socrates.
SOCRATES: You do, Callicles; you're only pretending not
to. Now, press on. There's further to go.
CALLICLES: Why do you persist in this nonsense?
SOCRATES: So that when you scold me you can tell how b
clever you're being. Isn't it the case that one's thirst
and the pleasure derived from drinking stop at the
same time?
GORGIAS: Don't do that, Callides. Please answer him.
We'd appreciate it too, because without your reply
the discussion will be incomplete.
CALLICLES: But all these futile little questions are typical
of the way Socrates tries to prove people wrong,
Gorgias.
GORGIAS: Why should that matter to you? In any case,
it's not up to you to assess their value like that,
Callides. Just let Socrates test your views any way he
wants.
cALLICLES: Go on, then. If that's what Gorgias wants, c
ask your lowly little questions.
SOCRATES: It's all right for you, Callides, you happy'
man. You've been initiated into the higher mysteries
before the lower ones.* I didn't think it was allowed.
· Anyway, could you resume from where we left off
87
 T
GORGIAS
GORGIAS pg. 17

and tell me whether one's thirst and one's pleasure
stop at the same time?
CALLICLES: Yes, they do.
SOCRATES: And don't hunger and other forms of desire
stop at the same time as the pleasure stops too?
CALLICLES: That's right.
SOCRATES: So we lose feelings of distress and feelings of
pleasure simultaneously, don't we?
d CALLICLES: Yes.
SOCRATES: You've agreed, however, that we don't lose
t~ings which are good and things which are bad
simultaneously. Have you changed your mind about
this?
CALLICLES: No, I haven't. Why?
SOCRATES: Because the upshot is that good things aren't
the same as pleasant things, and bad things aren't the
same as unpleasant things either. You see, we can
lose one pair simult~neously, but not the other, and
that means they're different. How could things which
are good be the same as things which are pleasant,
then? How could bad things and unpleasant things
be the same? But I don't think this argument of mine
has won your agreement, so here's an alternative
ap_proach you might prefer. What do you think about
this? You describe people as good-looking if they
e have good looks, and by the same token isn't it the
possession of good qualities that enables you to refer
to certain people as 'good'?
CALLICLES: yes.
CALLICLES: I suppose so, but what difference does that
make?
SOCRATES: Oh, no difference. Just answer the question.
CALLICLES: All right, yes, I've seen that. 498a
SOCRATES: And do intelligent people find things pleasing
and distressing, in your experience?
CALL!CLES: Yes.
SOCRATES: Do clever people or thoughtless people ex-
perience more pleasure and distress?
CALLICLES: I don't think there's much to tell between
them.
SOCRATES: Well, that'll do for me. Now, have you ever
come across cowards during a military campaign?
CALLICLES: Of course.
SOCRATES: And which lot struck you as being more
pleased when the enemy forces were falling back, the
cowards or the brave men?
CALLICLES: I think they were both pleased-the cowards
marginally more so, perhaps. b
SOCRATES: That doesn't matter. But cowards feel pleas-
ure too, do they?
CALLICLES: Certainly.
SOCRATES: As do thoughtless people, apparently.
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES: And when the enemy was advancing, was it
only the cowards who were upset, or were the brave
ones too?
CALLICLES: Both lots were.
SOCRATES: To the same degree?

SOCRATES: Now, do you call fools and cowards 'good'? CALLICLES: The cowards suffered more intensely, I

No, I don't suppose you do, because not long ago suppose.
you were reserving the term for brave, clever people. SOCRATES: And when the enemy was falling back, they

Aren't they the ones you call 'good'? were more pleased?
CALLICLES: yes. CALLICLES: Maybe.
SOCRATES: Well, do foolish children enjoy themselves, SOCRATES: So what you're saymg is that although

in your experience? thoughtless people and clever people, and cowards

CALLICLES: yes. and heroes, feel pleasure and distress to almost the
SOCRATES: And what about foolish adults? Have you same degree, cowards experience these feelings more
ever seen them enjoying themselves? intensely than heroes. Yes? C

88 89

GORGIAS
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES: But it's the clever ones and the heroes who
are good, whereas the cowards and the fools are bad.
Isn't that so?
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES: Doesn't it follow that there's little to tell
between good people and bad people in terms of
how much pleasure and distress they experience?
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES: Are good people and bad people almost
equally good and bad, then-or is it even the case
that bad people are more good, in fact?
d CALLICLES: I haven't the faintest idea what you mean.
SOCRATES: Haven't you? Didn't you agree that good
people are good because they possess good qualities,
and bad people are bad because they possess bad
qualities? And aren't you also claiming that there's
no difference between good and pleasure, or between
bad and distress?
CALLICLES: yes, I am.
SOCRATES: So any pleasant experience is by that token
the possession of good (that is, pleasure), isn't it?
CALLICLES: Of course.
SOCRATES: Their possession of this good quality, then,
makes people who are feeling pleasure good, doesn't
it?*
CALLICLES: Yes.
SOCRATES: And unpleasant experiences are the posses-
sion of bad qualities, or feelings of distress. Yes?
CALLICLES: Yes.
e SOCRATES: And it's the possession of bad qualities which
makes bad people bad, isn't it? Or have you changed
your mind about this?
CALLICLES: No, I haven't.
SOCRATES: So anyone who feels pleasure is good, and
anyone who feels distress is bad?
CALLICLES: That's right.
SOCRATES: And aren't people good and bad to a greater
or lesser or roughly equal degree depending on
90
r
I
i
GORGIAS pg. 18
whether they experience these feelings to a greater or
lesser or roughly equal degree?
CALLICLES: yes:
SOCRATES: And didn't you say that fools and cowards
experience roughly the same intensity of pleasure and
distress as clever people and heroes, or even that
cowards feel more, in fact?
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES: Could you help me work out the conse-
quences of our position? I mean, it's worth repeating
and reconsidering valuable points 'two and even three
times', as the proverb puts it. We're saying that 499a
people with intelligence and courage are good, aren't
we?
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES: And that fools and cowards are bad?
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES: Aren't we also claiming that people who feel
pleasure are good?
CALLICLES: Yes.
SOCRATES: And that people suffering distress are bad?
CALLICLES: They're bound to be.
SOCRATES: And that while there's little to tell between
good people and bad people in terms of how much
pleasure and distress they experience, bad people
might experience more?
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES: This means that there's little to tell between
good people and bad people in terms of how good
and bad they are, doesn't it? And that, if anything,
bad people are better than good people? Apart from
what we've already said, doesn't the idea that pleasure b
and good are the same have these additional conse-
quences? I don't see how we can avoid this conclusion,
Callides, do you?
Callicles shifts from commending mere quantity of
pleasure to admitting that there are qualitative dif-
ferences between pleasures. This allows Socrates to
91
 GORGIAS
reintroduce the distinction between means and ends.
He argues that better pleasures are those whose longer-
term effects are good (which in turn confirms that
pleasure is not the good, since the good is something
pleasure can aim for). The good life then becomes a
matter of foresight, not immediate feeling response, and
therefore arguably requires expertise. Socrates reminds
Callie/es of his earlier distinction between empirical
knacks (whose goal is pleasure) and true branches of
expertise (whose goal is the good). He counts rhetoric
as a knack and criticizes all the great figures of Athen-
ian history as mere flatterers of the populace, before
sketching an outline of what true rhetoric would aim to
do for its audience. In short, the expertise required to
enable someone to live the good life is not the rhetoric
Gorgias practises and teaches.
CALLICLES: I've been listening to you for quite a while
now, Socrates. I've been saying yes on cue, but what
I've been thinking about is the adolescent delight you
take in seizing on any concession someone makes to
you, even if he means it as a joke. Do you really
think that I or anyone else would deny that there are
better and worse pleasures?*
SOCRATES: Oh no! You're behaving terribly, Callides.
c First you claim that such-and-such is the case, and
then that it isn't the case. This is the way you'd treat
a child, and it's so dishonest!* I set out on this
discussion in the belief that you were my friend and
so wouldn't deliberately deceive me; but as it turns
out, I was wrong, and now I've got to make the best
of my situation (as the old saying goes) and accept
this offering of yours. It seems that what you're say-
ing now is that there are better and worse pleasures.
Is that right?
CALL!CLES: yes.
d SOCRATES: Well, beneficial pleasures are good and harm-
ful ones are bad, aren't they?
CALL!CLES: yes.
92
GORGIAS pg. 19
SOCRATES: Aren't they beneficial if they have a good
effect .and harmful if they have a bad effect?
CALLICLES: yes, I agree.
SOCRATES: Are you thinking, for example, of the phys-
ical pleasures of eating and drinking that we were
talking about not long ago-of how some of them
make the body healthy or strong or good in some
other way? Would you call pleasures of this kind
'good', and those which produce the opposite results
'bad'?
CALLICLES: Yes, that's it. e
SOCRATES: Does the same go for unpleasant experiences?
Are some good and some bad?
CALLICLES: Of course.
SOCRATES: Good experiences are the ones we should be
going for, shouldn't we, whether they're pleasant or
unpleasant? They're what we should be concerned
with, aren't they?
CALL!CLES: yes.
SOCRATES: And hadn't we better avoid bad ones?
CALLICLES: Obviously.
SOCRATES: Yes, because Polus and I decided, as you may
~ remember,* that the good in some form or other
should be the reason for doing anything. Do you
agree? Do you think, as Polus and I do, that all
activity aims at the good, and that the good should
not be a means towards anything else~ but should be
the goal of every action? Are you going to support us 500a
and make it three?
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES: It follows that the good in some form should
be the goal of pleasant activities (as much as of any
other kind of activity), rather than pleasure being the
goal of good activities.
CALLICLES: That's right.
SOCRATES: Now, is just anyone competent to separate
good pleasures from bad ones, or does it always take
an expert?*
CALLICLES: It takes an expert.
93
 GORGIAS
SOCRATES: I think we'd better remind ourselves of an-
other view I happened to express while talking to
Polus and Gorgias. As you may remember,* I held
b that there are some procedures which are restricted
to pleasure-that's all they have to offer-and which
fail to distinguish between better and worse, but
I also held that there are other procedures which
do know what's good and what's bad. I proposed
cookery as a typical example of a procedure which
is concerned with pleasure (and I called it a knack,
rather than an area of expertise), and medicine as a
typical example of an area of expertise which is
concerned with what is good. Now, for God's sake,
Callicles, and for the sake of our friendship, please
don't think it's all right for you to play games with
me_ and answer my questions any old how, without
canng whether you contradict what you really think-
and at the same time please don't treat what you
c hear from me as if I were playing games with you.
Are you somehow unaware that there's nothing which
even a relatively unintelligent person would take more
seriously than the issue we're discussing-the issue of
how t~ live one's life? The life you're recommending
to me mvolves the manly activities of addressing the
assembled people, rhetorical training, and the kind
of political involvement you and your sort are en-
ga~ed in. ~ut is that the right way to live, or is this
philosophical life of mine better? And if so what
makes it better? So perhaps it would be best' for us
d to distinguish these two ways of life along the lines
I tried out just now, and then, once we've agreed
that they're different, we should try-if there really
are two ways of life-to see how they differ and
which of them is the one to follow. Anyway, you
may not yet have understood my point.
CALLICLES: No, I haven't.
SOCRATES: All right, I'll try to explain myself better. You
and I have already agreed that there's good and there's
pleasure, and that the good and the pleasant are not
94
GORGIAS pg. 20
identical; we've also agreed that there are certain
processes and procedures for obtaining each of these
two-ways of pursuing respectively pleasure and the
good. But before I go any further, I'd better find out
whether or not you accept even this. Do you? e
CALLJCLES: Yes, I do.
SOCRATES: All right, then. I wonder whether you'll also
go along with the idea I suggested to our friends
here-that is, I wonder if you thought at the time
that I was right. I told them that to my mind cookery
was a knack rather than a branch of expertise as
medicine is, and I went on to say that one of these
processes-medicine, in fact-had considered both the 501a
nature of the object it looks after and the reasons for
its actions, and could therefore explain its results.
Pleasure, however, is the sole point of the other one's
attentions. There's absolutely no expertise involved
in the way it pursues pleasure; it hasn't considered
either the nature of pleasure or the reason why it
occurs. It's a completely irrational process-it hasn't
itemized things at all, so to speak. All it can do is
remember a routine which has become ingrained by
~ habituation and past experience, and that's also what
it relies on to provide us with pleasant ·experiences. b
Do you think this is a satisfactory account? That's
the main question, but then I also want to ask whether
you think there are practices whose :province is the
mind rather than the body, and which are analogous
in the sense that while some of them involve expertise
and work out in advance what will be best for the
mind, others don't care about that and (as was the
case with cookery) have restricted their thinking to
how the mind gets pleasure; not only have they not
given any consideration to whether there might be .
qualitative differences between pleasures, they're
simply not interested in anything except gratifying
the mind, whether that is to its advantage or dis- c
advantage.
The point is, Callicles, that I do think these practices
95

GORGIAS
exist, and I maintain that pandering like this to the
pleasures of the body or the mind or whatever,
without taking into consideration the question of
better and worse, is flattery. What about you? Do
you endorse this view of mine or disagree?
CALLICLES: Oh, I agree-as a favour to Gorgias, and so
that the discussion isn't left incomplete.*
d SOCRATES: Now, can this only happen to one mind at a
time, rather than to two or more?
CALLICLES: No, it can happen to two or more.
socRA~s: So if there's a whole crowd of people, it's
possible to gratify all their minds at once without
considering what's best for them. Is that right?
CALLICLES: I'd say so.
SOCRATES: Can you tell me which activities have this
effect? Perhaps it would be better for me to ask you
specific questions and for you to tell me whether or
not you think the activity--I've mentioned does have
this effect. Is that all right with you? Let's start with
e playing the reed-pipe. Do you think it belongs to this
catego~y, Callides? Is its sole purpose to give us pleas-
ure, without worrying about anything else?
CALLICLES: I think so.
so~RATES: A~d so on for all related activities, like play-
mg the kithara in competitions?*
CALLICLES: yes.
soc~ATES: A1;1d what about training choirs to sing
d1~hyr~mb1e poetry you've composed?* Don't you
thmk 1t belongs here? I mean, do you think Cinesias
t~e son of :1"feles is the slightest bit interested in having
h1s words improve his audience, rather than in finding
502a a way to gratify a packed theatre?
CALLICLES: Well, it's clear-at least in the case of Cinesias
-that he's only interested in giving pleasure, Socrates.
SO~RATES: _What about his father Meles? Do you get the
1mpress10n that when he's composing music for the
kithara, his objective is to maximize his audience's
In:oral welfare? Actually, it might be truer to say, in
his case, that he doesn't even aim at maximizing their
96
GORGIAS pg. 21
pleasure, since they find his singing offensiv~! Bu~
anyway, what do you think about kithara m~slC ana
dithyrambic poetry in general? Don't you thmk they
were invented to give pleasure?
CALLICLES: Yes, I do.
SOCRATES: What about that grand and awesome pur- b
suit, the composition of tragedies? What is _the object
of its efforts? Do you think the point of its earnest
endeavours is merely to please the audience, or does
it also struggle to avoid expressing sentiments which
for all their delightful charm are morally wrong, and
to include in its speeches and songs sentiments which
are actually harsh and beneficial, whether or not
people enjoy hearing them? Which of these two pur-
poses do you think tragedy is designed for?*
CALLICLES: Well, there can be no doubt about that,
Socrates. It's more interested in pleasure and in gratify- c
ing an audience. .
SOCRATES: And isn't that more or less how we described
flattery a short while ago, Callicles?
CALLICLES: yes.
sOCRt,.TES: Next,suppose poetry were stripped of its
music, its rhythm, and its metre. We'd be left with
words, wouldn't we?
CALLICLES: Of course.
SOCRATES: Words spoken, in fact, before a large crowd-
before the assembled people? t
CALLICLES: Agreed.
SOCRATES: Poetry is a kind of popular oratory, then.
CALLICLES: I suppose it is. d
SOCRATES: And 'popular oratory' is just another way of
saying 'rhetoric'. I mean, don't you think poets are
the rhetoricians of the theatre?
CALLICLES: I do.
SOCRATES: So we're faced here with a kind of rhetoric _,
which is addressed to the assembled population of
men, women, and children all at once-slaves as well
as free people-and it's a kind of rhetoric we find we
can't approve of. I mean, we did describe it as flattery.
97

GORGIAS
CALLICLES: That's right.
SOCRATES: All right. What are we to make of the kind
e of rhetoric which is addressed to the Athenian As-
sembly and the assemblies of other states, which are
attended by free male citizens? Do you think that
when rhetoricians speak, they want what's best for
their audience? Do you think they intend their
speeches to have the effect of perfecting their fellow
citizens? Or do you think they're really no different
from poets-in other words, that their objective is
the gratification of their fellow citizens and that the
common good means less to them than their own
private concerns? Isn't there, to your mind, some-
thing patronizing about the way they restrict their
dealings with the members of these assemblies to
trying to gratify them, and don't take the slightest
interest in whether or not they're made better or
503a worse people in the process?
CALLICLES: There's no simple answer to this question, as
there was to the other one. There are speakers who
are motivated by concern for their fellow citizens,
but there are also others who answer to your
description.
SOCRATES: That's all I need. If the activity is twofold
like that, then one of its two aspects is presumably
flattery and popular oratory of the contemptible sort,
while the other is the admirable procedure of trying
to perfect the minds of one's fellow citizens, and of
struggling to ensure that the speeches one delivers
have the highest moral content, whether or not it
makes people enjoy listening to them. But you've
b never come across this latter kind of rhetoric. If you
can think of any rhetorician who fits this description,
why don't you tell me his name?
CALLICLES: I certainly can't think of any contemporary
rhetoricians, anyway.
SOCRATES: Well, can you name a single rhetorician from
the past who's supposed to have been instrumental,
98
pg. 22
GORGIAS
from his very first public speech onwards, in changing
the Athenian· people from the terrible state they'd
been in before to a better one? If you can, please do
so, because I don't know who it is.
CALLICLES: But what about Themistocles? People say he c
was a good man, don't they? And then there are
Cimon and Miltiades and Pericles, who's only re-
cently died, and you actually heard him speak.~ .
socRA TES: Yes, Calli des, they were good men all nght
-that is, if your earlier description of goodness
was true and it consists in satisfying your own and
others' desires. But if that's not the case, if there's
some truth in the conclusions the subsequent dis-
cussion led us inexorably towards, and we should
satisfy only those desires whose fulfilment makes us
better people, not those whose fulfilment makes us d
worse-and we decided that this whole area was a
matter for expertise ... well, can you say that any of
the men you mentioned were good in that sense?
CALLICLES: I don't know what to say.
SOCRATES: You'll come up with something, if you search
in the~ right way. Let's take an unhurried look, then,
and see whether any of them were good in that sense.
Now, speeches delivered by a good man-some<;>ne
who wants what's best for his audience-aren't aim-
less, but have a purpose, don't they? It's the san_ie e
with all other craftsmen too: each of them bears m
mind his particular task and so doesn't select and
apply his materials aimlessly, but with the purpo~e
of getting the object he's making to acquire a certam
form. If you need examples, look at painters, build-
ers, shipwrights-any craftsmen you like, in fact. Each
of them organizes the various components he works
with into a particular structure and makes them ac-
commodate and fit one another until he's formed the 504a ·
whole into an organized and ordered object. That's
what all craftsmen do, including the ones we were
talking about not long ago* who deal with the
99
 GORGIAS
human body-trainers and doctors, I mean. They
order and organize the body, in a way. Are we in
agreement on this or not?
CALLICLES: I dare say you're right.
SOCRATES: So it takes organization and order to make a
house good, does it? And without these qualities any
house is worthless?
CALLICLES: Yes.
SOCRATES: And the same goes for ships?
b CALLICLES: Yes.
SOCRATES: And for our bodies too, we're saying?
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES: What about the mind? Can a disorganized
mind be a good mind, or does it take organization
and order to make the mind good as well?
CALLICLES: We have to think so: the preceding argument
leaves us no choice.*
SOCRATES: Now, what do we call the effect of organiza-
tion and order on the body?
CALLICLES: I suppose you mean health and fitness.
c SOCRATES: Yes. Next, then, what do we call the effect of
organization and order on the mind? What's the
equivalent term to 'health' in this case? Can you come
up with one?
CALLICLES: Why don't you tell us yourself, Socrates?
SOCRATES: All right, I will, if that's what you'd prefer.
If you think I'm right, please tell me; but if you think
I'm wrong, don't let me get away with it-show me
why I'm wrong. In my opinion, we describe the pro-
cesses which organize the body as 'healthy' because
they cause health and whatever else constitutes a good
physical state. Is that right or not?
CALLICLES: It is.
d so~RATES: And we describe the processes which organ-
ize and order the mind as 'law' or 'convention' be-
cause they make the mind law-abiding and orderly
-which is to say, they imbue the mind with justice
and self-control. Agreed?
CALLICLES: I dare say you're right.
100
GORGIAS pg. 23
SOCRATES: So these are the qualities which that excel-
lent rhetorical expert of ours* will be aiming for in
all his dea1ings with people's minds, whether he's
talking or acting, giving or taking.* He'll constantly
be applying his intelligence to find ways for justice,
self-control, and goodness in all its manifestations to
enter his fellow citizens' minds, and for injustice, self- e
indulgence, and badness in all its manifestations to
leave. Do you agree or not?
CALLICLES: I agree.
SOCRATES: You see, Callides, what's the point of giving
someone whose body is ravaged by disease lots of
wonderfully pleasant food or drink or whatever, if
that's not going to increase his chances of getting
better in the slightest, or on the contrary is even-as
an impartial view suggests-going to decrease them?
Am I right?
CALLICLES: I dare say you are. 505a
SOCRATES: Yes, I can't see that life is worth living if a
person's body is in a terrible state. He's bound to
have a terrible life, isn't he?
CALLICLES: Yes.
SOCRATES: Now isn't it normal medical practice to
allow a healthy person to satisfy his desires-by eating
or drinking as much as he wants when he's hungry
or thirsty, for instance-but almost never to let a
sick person have his fill of what he desires? Do you
agree with me about this?
CALLICLES: yes.
SOCRATES: The same goes for the mind, doesn't it, b
Callicles? As long as it's in a bad state (which is to
say ignorant, self-indulgent, immoral, and irreligious),
we must prevent it from doing what it desires and
have it keep strictly to a regimen which will make it
better. Do you agree or not?
CALLICLES: I do.
SOCRATES: Because that's actually better for the mind,
isn't it?
CALLICLES: yes.
101

GORGIAS
SOCRATES: Now, to prevent it from doing what it de-
sires is to discipline it, wouldn't you say?
CALLICLES: Yes.
SOCRATES: So discipline is better for the mind than
the indulgence you were recommending not long
ago.
Faced with defeat, Callicles resorts once more to sullen
abuse. Socrates continues the argument alone. The good
life and human happiness depend crucially, he argues,
on self-discipline. In fact, the whole universe can only
function well as an orderly whole. The arguments he
has been putting forward, and this cosmic perspective,
provide the justification for the revolutionary view which
provoked Callicles' entry into the discussion, that do-
ing wrong is worse then suffering it.
c CALLICLES:I don't know what you're going on about,
Socrates. You'd better find someone else to answer
your questions.
SOCRATES: Our friend here can't stand people doing him
good. In fact, he can't stand what we've been talking
about-being disciplined.
CALLICLES: Actually, these arguments of yours don't
interest me in the slightest, and I've only been answer-
ing your questions for Gorgias' sake.
SOCRATES: Well, what shall we do, then? Are we going
to break off in mid-discussion?
CALLICLES: That's up to you.
SOCRATES: People say it's wrong to leave even stories
d unfinished, though: a story needs a head on it, they
say, otherwise it goes around headless.'' So please
help our discussion get a head by answering the rest
of my questions.
CALLICLES: You're a bully, Socrates. My advice to you
would be to forget about the discussion, or at least
find someone else to talk to.
SOCRATES: Any volunteers? No? Let's not leave the
argument unfinished.
CALLICLES: Couldn't you complete the argument by
102
GORGIAS
pg. 24
yourself? Couldn't you just talk to yourself and
answer your own questions?
SOCRATES: Theh I'd really have to be, as Epicharmus e
puts it, 'capable of saying all alone what it took two
men to say before'.* By the looks of it, though, I
don't have any choice in the matter. All right, let's
do it that way. Once knowledge of what is and isn't
true in these matters is out in the open, we'll all
benefit equally, so I think we should all try to be the
first to get there. I'll tell you how I think the argu-
ment goes on, then, but it's up to you to challenge 506a
me and show me where I'm going wrong, if any of
you get the impression that I'm failing to recognize
mistakes in my own thinking. The point is, you see,
that I certainly don't speak as an expert with know-
ledge: I look into things with your help. And this
means that if someone disputes something I've been
saying and seems to me to be making a good point,
I'm the first to admit it. But there's no point in me
saying all this unless you think we ought to finish the
argument; if you don't want to carry on, let's leave
it there and go home.
GORGiAS: Well, I at any rate don't think we ought to go
home yet, Socrates. I'd like you to complete the argu- b
ment, and I get the impression everyone else wants
you to as well. In fact, for my part, I'd like to hear
you round the argument off by yourself.: .
SOCRATES: My own personal preference, though, Gorgias,
would have been for our friend Callicles to have
gone on talking to me, until I'd repaid him for Zethus'
speech with Amphion's. * Anyway, even if you're not
prepared to help me finish our discussion, Callides,
you must at least take me up on anything you hear
from me which strikes you as incorrect. And if you
do prove me wrong, I won't get cross with you as c
you did with me. No, I'll make sure the public reg-
ister lists you as my greatest benefactor.
CALLICLES: Just get the discussion over with, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Here goes, then. I'll review the whole
103
 GORGIAS GORGIAS pg. 25
argument so far. Is the pleas t , h
No, they're different. Callie!~ :n~s;me as tegood?
_Should the good be the reason agree on that.
words, an undisciplined and self-indulgent mind is
bad. Yes. .
Now, a disciplined person must act in an appro-
thmgs, or the pleasant be th we do pleasant
things? The good should be
ant things.
th reason we do good
e reason we do pleas-
priate manner towards both gods and his fellow
human beings, because inappropriate behaviour in-
dicates lack of self-discipline. Yes, that's bound to be b
Isn't it the quality of bein 1 . so.
d rff
us eknjoy things, and the qualf i;~ae~~tgh~~~ :ha~ehs Well, when 'appropriate' is used of the way we
ma es us good? Yes. IC relate to our fellow human beings, it means 'just';
Now, what does it tak t b
ing? What does it take t:o e a good hum_an be-
fact? It always takes a s /~ a good anythmg, in
and when it's applied to the way we relate to the
gods, it means 'religious'. And, of course, anyone
who acts justly and religiously is a just and religious
doesn't it' Id , h P cific state of goodness
And wheth~; ::~e ow ~e can deny that, Callicles'. person.* True.
a good body, a go0Je~~~11g about a good artefact, He's also bound to have courage, because a disci-
plined person doesn't choose inappropriate objects
creature, what it takes fo t or that matter, or a good
occur in an ideal form . r hese states of goodness to to seek out or avoid. No, he turns towards or away
and perfection and th is n~t cf ao~, but organization from events, people, pleasures, and irritations as and
whose province the i:ar;1~u ar ra_nch _of expertise when he should, and steadily endures what he should
agree. Jee m question is. Right? I endure. It follows, Callicles, that because a self- c
disciplined person is just, brave, and religious, as we've
e In every case, then, a good state is a . explained, he's a paradigm of goodness.* Now, a
and orderly state isn't 1·t;i I'd n orgamzed good person is bound to do whatever he does well
S h' ' • say so.
o a t mg has to be informed b . and \uccessfully, * and success brings fulfilment and
structure-the struct . Y a part1eular orderly
doesn't 1·t:i I h. k ure appropriate to it-to be good happiness, whereas a bad man does badly and is
· t m so. , therefore unhappy. Unhappiness, then, is the lot of
Doesn't it follow that a mi d someone who's the opposite of self-disciplined-in
structure is better than a d. n dposdsess~d of its proper
to be. isor ere mmd? It's bound other words, the kind of self-indulgent person you
were championing.
But a 'mind poss d f d That's my position, and I believe it to be true. If
orderly mind, isn't 7rs/~a~ur~f1 erly structure' is an
it really is true, it looks as though anyone who wants
And an orderly · d · y. . . to be happy must seek out and practise self-discipline, d
507a Absolutely. mm is a self-d1sc1plined mind?
and beat as hasty a retreat as possible away from
. From which it follow h . . .
IS a good mind N slt at a se1f-d1sc1plmed mind self-indulgence. The best course would be for him to
. h h' . ow, can't see anyth. see- to it that he never has to be restrained, but if he
wit t is argument, Callicles b . mg wrong or anyone close to him (whether that's an individual
tell me what it is. , ut if you can, please
person or a whole community) does ever need it,
CALLICLES: Just get on with it S then he must let justice and restraint be imposed, or
SOCRATES: AU • h , . ~crates.
ng t. If a self-d1sc1plined · d · else forfeit happiness.
t h en a mind · h mm 1s good
m t e opposite state is bad. In othe; I'll tell you what the ideal is that we should set

104 105

GORGIAS
ourselves to live by, in my opinion. We should de-
vote all our <?wn and our community's energies
t<:>w~r~s ensunng the presence of justice and self-
e d1sc1plme, ~nd so guaranteeing happiness. That's what
should gmde our actions. We shouldn't refuse to
r_estrain our desires, because that condemns us to a
l~fe of endlessly trying to satisfy them. And this is the
life o~ a pr_edatory 01;1tlaw, in the sense that anyone
who lives hke that will never be on good terms with
anyone_ else-any other human being, let alone a
god-~mce_ he's incapable of co-operation, and co-
ope~at10n 1s a prerequisite for friendship. In fact,
Calhcles, the ~xpe~ts' opinion is that co-operation,
508a love, order, d1sc1plme, and justice bind heaven and
earth, gods and men. That's why they call the uni-
v~rse an ordered whole, my friend, rather than a
disorderly mess or an unruly shambles.* It seems to
me that,. for a_ll yo~r expertise in the field, you're
overlookmg this pomt. You've failed to notice how
much power geometrical equality* has among gods
an1 men, and this neglect of geometry has led you to
believe that one should try to gain a disproportionate
share of things.
_There you are, then. Now, either we have to prove
b this argument wrong, by showing that happiness does
not depen~ o~ ~ person having the attributes of justice
and self-d1sc1plme, and unhappiness on immorality
or we have to _accept that it's true and try to see wha;
foll~ws from 1t. All those earlier conclusions follow,
Calhcles-the ones you asked me if I was serious
about, when I claimed that we should denounce any
wrongs committed not only by ourselves but even
by ou~ family and friends, and that this is what
rhetonc should be used for.* Moreover, the point
Polus conceded out of embarrassment (according to
you) has turned_ out to be true-that doing wrong is
more co_n:empt1ble than suftering wrong, precisely
because 1t s worse than suffermg wrong. And it's also
C true that for someone to be a genuine rhetorician he
'
106
GORGIAS pg. 26
does in fact have to be a moral person and to under-
stand morality, and this in its turn was the point
Polus said Gorgias conceded out of embarrassment.
Against this background, let's consider whether or
not you were right to fault me* for my inability to
defend myself or any of my family and friends or
rescue them from terrible danger. You say th.at I'm
as vulnerable as a person with no status at all to
anybody's passing inclination to smash me in the
face (to use your forceful expression), confiscate my d
property, send me into exile, or even, if worse comes
to worst, kill me. And according to you, there is
nothing more contemptible than being at the mercy
of people like this.
Well, I've already stated my view more than once,
but there's no harm in repeating it. I deny that being
wrongly smashed in the face or stabbed or robbed
by a cutpurse is the most contemptible thing that can
happen to a person, Callicles; I claim that it's more e
contemptible, and worse as well, to hit and cut me and
my property without just cause, and I also claim that
to steal, enslave, burgle, and in short to do any kind
, of wrong against me and my property, is not only
worse for the wrongdoer than it is for me, the target
of his wrongdoing, but is also more contemptible.
As I say, these are the conclusions we reached
before, in an earlier phase of the ,discussion, and
they're securely tied down (if you'll pardon the rather
extravagant expression) by arguments of iron and 509a
adamant.* That's how it, seems to me, in any case.
And unless you untie these bonds-actually, it might
call for someone younger and more forceful than
you-anyone whose opinion differs from the one I'm
proposing at the moment cannot fail to be wrong.*
All I'm saying is what I always say: I myself don't
know the facts of these matters, but I've never met
anyone, including the people here today, who could
disagree with what I'm saying and still avoid making
himself ridiculous.
107
 GORGIAS
b A~yway, I suggest that the facts are as I've said. If
so:-1f the worst thing for a criminal is to commit
cnmes (except that, if you could have a worse than
worst, it would be worse for him not to be punished
for the wrong he does)-then what kind of defence
would it really be ridiculous of a person to be in-
capable of providing for himself? It would have to be
the inability to avert what does us the most harm
would~'t it? It has to be a person's failure to provid~
t~at kmd ~f d~fence for himself, his family, and his
friends which 1s most contemptible, hasn't it? And
then the second most contemptible failure is failure
to defend oneself against what does us the second
c most harm, the third most contemptible is failure in
respect of what does us the third most harm, and so
on and so forth, on the same principle that it's the
amo~nt of harm a thing does which determines how
admirable the ability to defend oneself against it is
and how contemptible the inability is. Am I right
Callicles, or not? ' get on and finish the argument.
£ __2-LLICLES: You're right.
O~vi~usly, the best course is to avoid both doing and
surfermg wrong. But how do we achieve this? It seems
that tn a poli~ical context one _can only avoid suffering
z:.;rong by d~mg wr~mg. Practical politics, as it stands,
1!fn_ores qua/tty of life (which is what true expertise at
living wou~d produce) m favour of simply staying alive
by p~ndermg t? the whims of the powers that be.
Polt~iczans consistently fail to exhibit the slightest ex-
pertise at improving people. In fact, there have never
been any true statesmen in Athens; the only candidates
turn out to be practitioners of flattery-and rhetoric is
a type of ~attery which is actually more contemptible
than sophistry.
SOCRATES: So_ we're saying that of the two----doing wrong
and suffen_ng wrong-doing wrong is the greater evil
and suffermg wrong is the lesser evil. How can we
manage to protect ourselves, then, in such a way that
108
GORGIAS pg. 27
we gain both advantages-that of not doing wrong, d
and that of not suffering wrong? Does it take ability
or will? Wliat I mean is, will someone avoid suffer-
ing wrong if he doesn't want to suffer wrong, or if
he's equipped with the ability to avoid suffering
wrong?
CALLICLES: Obviously the latter, the ability to avoid
suffering wrong.
SOCRATES: And what about doing wrong? Is the wish not
to do wrong all it takes for him not to do wrong, or for
this to happen does he also need to be equipped with
a certain ability and branch of expertise, which he e
has to study and practise if he's to avoid doing wrong?
No answer, Callicles? Well, here's another one for
you. At an earlier stage of the discussion,* Polus and
I felt we had no choice but to conclude that no one
wants to do wrong, and that every wrong act is done
unwillingly. Do you think we were right or wrong?
CALLICLES: I'll grant you this, Socrates, so that you can 510a
SOCRATES: So it looks as though we need to be equipped
with ability and expertise to avoid doing wrong as
weH.
CALLICLES: Yes.
SOCRATES: Well, what is the expertise that equips us
with the means to avoid having any wrong done to
us, or as little as possible? I wonder if you,agree with
my view, which is that either you have to actually be
the ruler yourself (even the dictator) of the commun-
ity where you live, or you have to be on good terms
with the existing government.
CALLICLES: That's an excellent point, Socrates, in my
opinion. Do you see how I'm perfectly prepared to b
congratulate you on your good ideas?
SOCRATES: Well, here's another idea. I wonder whether
you'll think it's a good one too. Friendly relations
seem to me to exist particularly between people who
conform to the wise old saw, 'Like to like.' Do you
agree?
109

EXPLANATORY NOTES
function of punishment is to cure the imperfections in
people's minds are discussed by M. M. Mackenzie, Plato
on Punishment (Berkeley: University of California Press,
1981) and T. J. Saunders, Plato's Penal Code (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 1991), as well as by Irwin (Plato:
Gorgtas, 162-5, 245) and Santas (286-303). The view
resurfaces during the 'myth' at the end of the book
(525b ff.).
479b is like: this should not be taken to imply that his fault is
not knowing that physical health involves having a strong
heart and so on, but that he doesn't appreciate the benefits
of _health, and in particular that its benefits outweigh the
pam of surgery. In general, Plato consistently portrays
Socrates as believing that if people knew what was good
for them, then they would act on it (and would also not
be swayed by other, apparent goods).
480e an enemy, for instance: it was a standard tenet of Greek
pre-Christian ethics that you should do good to your frie~d;
and harm to your enemies. However, Socrates expresses
this view here with some hesitation, and there is evidence
from other dialogues that he rejected it and actually antici-
pated Christianity in maintaining that it is never right to
harm anyone. See especially ch. 7 of Vlastos, Socrates.
481b has some use: in order to make his paradoxical point that
· rhetoric should only be used ro denounce one's own and
one's friends' crimes, Socrates ignores perfectly moral uses
such as defending an innocent person who has been wrongly
accused of a crime.
481d Demus the son of Pyrilampes: Socrates' 'affair' with
Alcibiades was notorious. It is mentioned incidentally from
time to time in Plato's dialogues, and some episodes from
it are given famous and extended treatment at Symposium
212d-222c. Homoerotic love was not regarded as abnor-
mal in upper-class circles of ancient Athens; the canonical
study of the topic is K. J. Dover's Greek Homosexuality
(London: Duckworth, 1978). Callicles' two loves involve
an untranslatable pun: Demus' name in Greek is exactly
the word for 'populace'.
4826 divine dog of the Egyptians: Anubis, the dog-headed god.
The euphemistic oath 'By the dog' was a favourite of
Socrates {though not unique to him) and occurs quite a
148
pg. 28
EXPLANATORY NOTES
few times in Plato's dialogues. Indeed, it has already oc-
curred tv.rice in Gorgias (at 461b and 466c), but the literal
translation of Greek oaths (like a great many of their
vocatives, for instance) makes for awkward English. They
are best translated, usually, simply by adding emphasis to
the sentence. Here, however, Socrates' mock solemnity is
worth preserving.
482d you relish: Callicles has accurately summarized what Polus
was saying at 461b-c, and has accurately claimed that both
Gorgias and Polus made the mistake of lacking the cour-
age of their convictions. On Plato's portrayal of the inter-
locutors as suffering embarrassment, see p. xxxiv.
482e not on nature: the history of the debate, which flourished
in the intellectual ferment of the fifth century, about the
advantages and disadvantages of man-made rules as op-
posed to natural law is ably summarized in Guthrie (ch. 4)
and Kerferd (ch. 10). The debate took many forms, but
Callicles, main complaint about convention (nomos) is
simply that it distorts nature (phusis): the sup.erior man
has a natural right to power, extra:wealth and so on. Plato
too rejected the egalitarianism of democratic philosophy
(see especially Republic 5556-558c); the main difference
between him and Callicles will turn out to be a difference
of opinion over what it is to fulfil one's potential as a
human being, which for Callicles clearly means lording it
over others. Compare Thrasymachus' position in the first
book of Republic.
When Callicles analyses Socrates' defeat of Polus as due
to an illegitimate changing of the terms from those_ of
convention to those of nature, it is not clear whether Plato
means us to take this as a serious analysis of the preceding
argument, ~hich seems far more complex than Callicles
allows, rather than a convenient way for Callicles to intro-
duce his pet theme. Johnson, however (see note on 475d),
interprets the argument in such a way that Callicles' analysis
of it ~n terms of nature and convention makes good sense.
4836 the majority of the human race: Callicles' description of
the majority as weak seems to me to tell conclusively against
the thesis (argued by G. B. Kerferd, 'Plato's Treatment of
Callicles in the Gorgias', Proceedings of the Cambridge
Philological Society 200 (1974), 48-52) that Callicles is
portrayed by Plato simply as a democrat. It is true, however,
149
 EXPLANATORY NOTES
that he is a 'lover of the Athenian people' (481d, 513b).
I think that historically he very probably was a democrat.
Plato, however, is portraying him as a cynical democrat-
as one who wants to manipulate the people in order to
gain personal power, and who thinks that if he is a 'super-
ior' person, he has every right to do this.
483d on Scythia: Xerxes' father Darius had expansionist ambi-
tions for Persia. Among other expeditions, in about 510 BC
he attacked the neighbouring Scythian territory (as de-
scribed by the Greek historian Herodotus, in book 4 of his
history) and in the 490s he turned his attention to Greece.
Greek victory at the battle of Marathon ended this in-
vasion, but after Darius' death in 485, Xerxes inherited
his European ambitions. However) his massive invasion
of Greece in 480 was equally unsuccessful) owing to an
almost miraculous sequence of Greek victories against
overwhelming odds. On the right of strong countries
to dominate weaker ones) see Thucydides' fictional 'Melian
Dialogue' (5. 85-113).
4846 where he says: the following lines form about three-
quarters of Pindar, fr. 169 Snell. It is highly likely that
Pindar did not mean by 'law) the 'law of nature) which
Callicles wants him to mean, but ordinary man-made law.
484c life to it: it will be helpful for the reader to bear in mind
that the Greek term philosophia included not only what
we might recognize as philo,sophy, or as an ancestor of it,
but also science, mathematics, and higher education in
general. (In English, the term 'philosophy' had much the
same range, until 'science was invented in the middle of
the nineteenth century.) In a celebrated passage of the
later dialogue Theaetetus (172b-177c), Plato takes up the
themes of this paragraph and revels in the philosopher's
lack of worldly wisdom. Callicles) attitude towards phi-
losophy was not uncommon: the rich preferred politics
and estate-management, the poor were too busy to appre-
ciate it. It is far from clear how Callicles might have pre-
sented his overall position, which involves not only a
rejection of conventional morality, but also approval of
engagement in the practical and political activities of one's
community. For most people, such engagement would go
hand in hand with accepting, not rejecting, conventional
morality; and Callicles too repeatedly expresses approval
150
EXPLANATORY NOTES pg. 29
of the conventional accolade of being highly regarded within
one)s community.
484e happens to excel: Euripides, fr. 183 Nauck2, from the lost
play Antiope. At 485e we are told that the character Zethus
spoke the lines to Amphion. There are constant echoes
and quotations of this play in the next few paragraphs (see
following notes): the extent of Plato's debt to the play has
been discussed by A. W. Nightingale, 'Plato's Gorgias and
Euripides' Antiope: A Study in Generic Transformation',
Classical Antiquity 11 (1992), 121-41.
485d earns distinction: Iliad 9.441. The agora was the political
and commercial heart of the city.
485e and say: Plato adapts in prose a few lines from the play
(see note on 484e). He borrows quite a few words from
the play, but any reconstruc~ion of the original lin~s must
be to some extent speculative. Another source gives us
another line, and the fragment (fr. 185 Nauck2, but see also
Dodds)s notes ad loc.) may originally have read as fol-
lows: 'Amphion, you're neglecting matters you should pay
attention to. Look at the noble temperament with which
nature has endowed you! Yet what you)re famous for is
behaving like a woman. You couldn)t deliver a speech to
the councils which adrninster justice, or m9-ke a plausible
and persuasive appeal ... or join battle with an opponent
bearing a hollow shield) or put passion into a propos_al
designed to help others.' Zethus makes an excellent
spokesman for Callides: the chief connection between
Callicles' disparate recommendations (not to follow con-
ventional morality, not to take philosophy seriously, and
to engage in public life) is that he denigrates taking what
he sees as a passive role in anything.
4866 and ruin him: although unannounced, the words scan and
there is no doubt that Callicles is continuing to quote from
Euripides' Antiope. The two lines form fr. 186 Nauck2 •
486c in a deserted house: the words and phrases in quotation
marks come again come from Euripides' Antiope (fr. 188
Nauck2 ), but in the original-of which we have from other
sources considerably more than Plato quotes here-Zethus
is telling Amphion off for his effeminate musical interests.
486d touch my mind to it: in ancient times gold was rubbed
against a 'touchstone'-a type of .black quartz on which
151

EXPLANATORY NOTES
different qualities of gold left sufficiently different marks
for an expert to assay the gold.
486e these beliefs are true: this claim, which is repeated at 487e,
is on the face of it extraordinary. Why should Socrates
claim that if he and Callicles agree to an idea, that idea is
true? For further discussion see pp. xxvi-xxxii, and for a
reading list see section H of the Select Bibliography.
489a someone with insight: this paragraph has been cited as
evidence that Socrates (as opposed to Plato-see note on
482e) approved of democratic egalitarianism. However,
Socrates is engaged in the dialectical refutation of Callicles:
he is turning his own premisses and admissions against
him, rather than importing his own views.
489b nature endorses these views too: unfortunately, the argu-
ment is invalid as a response to Callicles, since Callicles
had never claimed that natural justice consists in the
legislations or assertions of the stronger party, only that it
consists in the stronger party having more than, and rul-
ing over, the weaker party. Plato seeds Socrates' counter-
argument by having Callicles agree at 488d (presumably
as an extension of the idea of 'ruling') that in a democracy
the stronger majority are the lawmakers. In his original
statement, however, at 4836", Callicles had claimed that
lawmaking was a tool of the weaker party, and that natural
justice and man~made law never coincide. Nevertheless,
Plato does need to rule out the notion of physical strength
or mere ability to enforce one's whims, and despite its
invalidity as a counter-argument to Callicles' original po-
sition, the argument does successfully rule out this notion.
489b at your age: ~uperficial verbal argument was thought in
ancient Greek tin1es, as now, to be above all a teenage
phenomenon.
489c physical strength at their disposal: actually, not only did
Callicles assert that 'superior' meant 'stronger' just a
moment ago at 488d, but his examples of natural right at
483d-e all involved dominance by brute strength. Socrates
is not here forcing him to clarify his position, then, so
much as to alter it. Callicles denies that the democratic
mob's views can constitute law in the sense of 'natural
law'; he has already accepted at 4836-c that they do
constitute man-made law. One of the common charges
152
;;:
•ii.-T•,--.~-.. -••••----------------- - - - --
pg. 30
EXPLANATORY NOTES
brought against man-made law by supporters of nature in
the fifth century was that man-made rules were made and
repealed at the whim of fickle and fallible humans; from
this point of view the search for natural law is idealistic.
Notice, then, how Callicles' position is, shifting from real-
ism to idealism- from 'natural right is what happens in
spite of people's attempts to stop it happening' to 'natural
right is what ought to happen'. This is particularly ·notice-
able in the claim that it is natural right for a single intel-
ligent person to rule over unintelligent people.
489e keeping something back: Socrates ironically means that
Callicles was keeping back what he really meant (see pre-
vious note). Zethus was not a god, but his name is close
enough to Zeus' for Socrates to bring in the joke about
Callicles invoking Zethus as if he were a god.
491d only others?: is the issue of self-control a complete change
of direction? Not quite, because since self-control was
conventionally recognized as a virtue, Callicles' rejection
of conventional morality raises the question. It is also fair
to ask whether Callicles' superior men might not have to
exercise some self-control either on their way to the top,
or in order to maintain their position there. Moreover,
Callicles clearly thinks that his superior man is some kind
of ideal, so it is fair for Socrates to ask whether total self-
indulgence can play any part in an ideal life. And finally,
'The shift from political rule to self-rule reminds us that
the fundamental issue of the dialogue is moral rather than
political' (Kahn, 103).
491e arise within oneself: Socrates' talk of controlling desires
has been taken to anticipate Plato's maturer teaching in
Republic that there are, so to speak, different parts of the
mind which can conflict, and that the irrational, desiring
part does not appreciate what is good for the agent, but
can still override the rational part which does have such
understanding. But if Plato is here pre-empting Republic,
there is a serious clash with other passages in Gorgias (e.g.
468a-b, 509d-e) where in the background is the standard
Socratic intellectualist doctrine that no one ever acts con-
trary to what he thinks it is best for him to do. In fact,
however, there is no real .clash. We can understand that
Socrates accepts that ·every desire is desire for an assumed
good, but also believes that no desire should be allowed to
153
 EXPLANATORY NOTES
grow so strong that it threatens the agent's perception of
where his overall good lies. This idea of control is all
Socrates needs to argue against Callides; we do not need
to import the notion of a rational part of the mind con-
trolling an irrational part. See J. Cooper, 'The Gorgias and
Irwin's Socrates', Review of Metaphysics 35 (1981-2), 577-
87.
49 le enslavement to anyone: Callicles thinks of self-control as
enslavement to oneself; Socrates will argue, on the other
hand, that to give free rein to desire is to make it one's
master.
492a can grow no larger: why, under Socrates' prodding, does
Callicles allow his initially more moderate position to be
escalated until he refuses to accept the value of any re-
straint at all on a person's desire and identifies himself in
various ways as an out-and-out hedonist. Initially, for
instance, he claims only that pleasure is good, not that all
pleasure is good. The reasons for Plato's escalation of
Callicles' position are discussed by G. Klosko, 'The Refu-
tation of Callicles in Plato's Gorgias>, Greece & Rome 31
(1984), 126-39. He concludes that it was germane to
Plato's strategy to have Socrates take on the kind of he-
donist who was devoted to short-term physical satisfac-
tion. The claim of this kind of hedonism to constitute the
good life had to be ruled out. The precise kind of hedon-
ism Callicles espouses is discussed by G. Rudebusch,
'Callicles' Hedonism', Ancient Philosophy 12 (1992), 53-
71; however, his analysis is perhaps too sophisticated for
the simpler categories of our dialogue. The paper by N. P.
White is better _in this respect. The best work on the strat-
egy of Socrates' argument with Callicles is that of Berman.
492a earlier: 4836 ff.
4926 a dictator, for example: the word translated •dictator' here
and elsewhere in the dialogue is turannos. Turannoi were
certainly autocrats, but in Greek history a number of them
ruled with popular acclaim and perfectly moderately; they
were not necessarily vicious despots. Therefore it is clear
that Plato is having Callicles espouse a type of person-a
type who uses his autocratic power to satisfy his personal
whims. This is the dictatorial type of Republic 571a-576b.
154
EXPLANATORY NOTES pg. 31
492e death life: these notorious lines from Euripides' lost play
Phrixus (fr. 639 Nauck2 ) were often quoted and parodied
in antiquity.
493a the body is a tomb: this famous notion is far more neatly
expressed in Greek: soma sema. The pun, as well as the
idea, may well have originated in the Pythagorean school,
and Pythagoreans were also probably instrumental in tak-
ing the myth of the Danaids, who were condemned (for
the crime of killing their husbands on their wedding night)
endlessly to carry water in sieves in Hades, and converting
it to allegorical use. The Greeks in general, and the eso-
teric schools in particular, were fond of puns and etymolo-
gies, on which they placed a lot of significance. See also
the next note. On the provenance of the mythical elements
in Plato's account here, see Dodds, 296-8; on the inter-
pretation of the passage, see D. Blank, 'The Fate of the
Ignorant in Plato's Gorgias', Hermes 119 (1991), 22-36.
493a plausible and persuasive: that is, hard to resist. The Pytha-
gorean story-teller (the main centres of Pythagoreanism in
the fifth and fourth centuries DC were Sicily and southern
Italy) is punning, but the puns cannot be translated
smoothly. 'Jar' translates pithos, while 'plausible' is pith-
anos. The next words are a double pun: there is pot only
a loose pun between 'fools' (anoetoi) and 'non-initiates'
(amuetoi), but amuetoi could also mean 'unstoppered', as
if initiation into the Pythagorean mysteries put a stopper
on your jar. Finally, the pun that follows a couple of lines
later between 'Hades' and 'unseen' (aides) was a standard,
less esoteric piece of Greek etymology.
493b imcapped state: for the image, see the previous note about
'unstoppered'. The Greek is difficult, but I see no reason
to change the transmitted text, so here I prefer the reading
of editors such as Burnet and Croiset to that of Dodds.
4936 unseen: for the pun in the Greek here, see the second note
on 493a. By interpreting 'Hades' as 'the unseen world',
Plato-or his source-transfers its inhabitants to our fa-
miliar world. Pleasures and desires are invisible; in so far
as we are subject to these and other unseen influences, we
are members of that unseen world. But Plato also believes,
as the myth at the end of our dialogue shows, that the way
of life Callicles is recommending would lead to a miser-
able afterlife too.
155

EXPLANATORY NOTES
494a feel pleasure: Callicles is surely right to shift the emphasis
of the discussion on to pleasure, since a self-indulgent
person does not, or does not just, seek the state of satis-
faction (the state of full jars), which Socrates is suggesting
is the ideal, but also, and perhaps primarily, the pleasure
of the process of satisfying a need. Plato's assumptions
and arguments about pleasure in Gorgias are well ana-
lysed in Gosling and Taylor's book. In particular, they
point out that even if the anti-hedonist arguments of
Gorgias were effective against a thesis that the good life
consists of a life of unending immediate (bodily) pleasures,
they do little to damage the hedonistic thesis that a life of
overall and long-term pleasure is the good life.
494b gully-bird: the identification of the Greek bird charadrios
is not entirely certain. In any case, the point is clear: it was
famous either for excreting while it eats, or perhaps for
straining water through its beak.
495a good and bad pleasures?: in accusing Callicles of failing
to distinguish between good and bad pleasures, Socrates is
tacitly importing some external criterion of goodness; other-
wise Callicles could easily grade pleasures according to
how much pleasure they give, and call those which give
more enjoyment 'better' than those which give less.
495a original promise: his promise of candour, presumably.
495c a short while ago: 491b.
495c separate qualities, surely?: whereas Socrates thinks that they
are fundamentally identical: see note on 507c.
495d Callie/es of Achamae: Socrates is clearly trying to sound
like an official decree. Acharnae and (a couple of lines
later) Alopece were Athenian demes; demes were districts
of Athens and the surrounding territory of Attica. Every
citizen was enrolled into a particular deme for life, whether
or not he actually lived there: it depended on where his
ancestor had lived when the system was formalized under
Cleisthenes in about 505 BC.
496e at the same time: this contentious analysis of pleasure as
including a component of pain or distress was adhered to
by Plato throughout his life, and underlies his description
of most pleasures as 'mixed', 'impure', and 'unreal'. in
Republic and Philebus. It is impossible to tell from Gorg,as,
156
pg. 32
EXPLANATORY NOTES
however, whether Plato thinks that all pleasures or merely
most pleasures have a perceivable unpleasant component.
In order to refute Callicles' identification of 'pleasant' and
'good', he only needs to show that some pleasures involve
distress (which Callicles must describe as 'bad') in this
way; nevertheless, the argument reads like a generaliza-
tion, as if Plato wanted us to understand that pleasure
always involves distress in this way.
What is important about the analysis of pleasure in
Gorgias is the deficiency model. Pleasure is the satisfaction
or replenishment (plerosis) of a need or lack. This is the
first clear exposition of the idea, and it is precisely this
idea which enables him later to distinguish between good
and bad pleasures. Even if all pleasures remedy some dis-
tress, nevertheless in the case of a few refined (largely non-
bodily) pleasures, the distress might for some reason be so
slight as to be imperceptible, and therefore these pleasures
are pure and acceptable. Moreover, the idea that most
p:.::asures are remedial of distress lies at the core of the
way Plato refutes hedonism time and again in the dia-
· 1ogues: in order to maximize his pleasure, a hedonist has
to maximize the distress which the pleasure is to remedy;
but distress is for a hedonist bad; therefore hedonism is
inane and self-contradictory.
There are grounds for dispute. First, has Plato estab-
lished that a thirsty person who is drinking is really feeling
simultaneous. distress and pleasure in a strong enough sense?
Perhaps he is only feeling distress in one respect and pleas-
ure in another. Second, the assumption that all desires are
unpleasant is unconvincing (think of the pleasurable anti-
cipation of dinner, or of sexual arousal). ·
496e the mind or the body: it doesn't make any difference to
this particular argument, perhaps, but elsewhere (e.g.
Phaedo 65a, Philebus 35c) Plato is sure that the body is
in itself a lump of insensate matter, and that all sensations
and feelings (as well as thoughts etc.) are to be attributed
to the mind.
497c lower ones: the major festival of the Eleusinian mysteries
could not be attended ·unless one had also celebrated at
the minor festival a few months earlier. The analogy is of
great philosophical interest: Socrates is not just sayin.g w~at
he has said before-that lus method of cross-exammatton
157
 EXPLANATORY NOTES
is the best method he knows for getting to the truth-but
is adding that the 'truth' it arrives at may in some sense
fall short of the full truth. On Socrates' elenchus-his
method of questioning-see pp. xxvi-xxxii; on the par-
tkt1lar issue of the two grades of truth see pp. x.xx-xx.xi.
498d doesn't it?: The problem with this argument lies in Plato's
substitution of 'pleasant' for 'good>. Even if a hedonist
were to accept such a simplistic substitution, he need not
foHow Plato into equating the 'good1 of good personai
qualities with the 'good' of pleasure. See further Tenkku,
77-87.
499b better and worse pleasures?: but whatever criterion Callides
uses to make this distinction, he is going to have to admit
the vaJue1 at least to some extent, of at least some of con-
ventional morality. For instance, he may have to practise
self~controi in order to secure ~better~ pleasures rather than
'worse• ones.
499c it's so dishonest!: actually it is not clear that CaUides needs
the absolute identity of {good~ and 'pleasant\ such that aH
and only pleasures are good: Socrates may have foisted
this view on him. See the first note on 492a.
499e you may remember: Socrates is referring to 467e-468c.
500a take an expert?: the introduction of this expert is rather
abrupt. We are surely competent to jud,ge the 'good' p]eas-
ure of a cliff walk, or rhe 'bad' pleasure of Schadenfreude
without any particular expertise. But j>fato is th.inking more
of the fact that if good pleasures are a means to the good,
then the good is not always immediately :apparent, but lies
in the fo.ture~ so that it might take expertise to discern the
route to it.
S00a you may remember: the reference this time is to 462b-
465<l.
501c left incomplete: Callicles is referring to 497b.
501e in c0tnpetitions: the kitham was a large ty.rel favoured by
prof-essjona! musicians rather than for domestic enjoyment.
The z:oention of public competitions is only intended to
remind us that Plato is talking about charming huge num~
bers of people at once> I think, rather rhan suggesting that
there is anything particularly bad a.bout taking part in
such competitions.
158
EXPLANATORY NOTES pg. 33
501e you,ve composed?; dithyrambic poetry was a type of lyric
poetry which was popular in the fifth ce11tury. Choirs were
trained to sing the poet's compositions at public festivals
of Dionysus.
502b designed for?: Plato's contempt for the low moral tone of
tragedy might strike us as surprising, since we nowadays
find many of the surviving Greek tragedies morally edify-
ing. But we should counterbalance this by remembering
that we read the tragedies in isolation. In ancient Athens,
however they were intended to be performed only once,
in a comPetirion; they therefore had to please the audience
(or at least the judges) if they were to win the competition.
This section of Gorgias anticipates rhe more developed and
sophisticated condemnation of poetry in Republic.
503c heard him spea,~: Socrates claimed to have done so at 455e.
See as usual the Index of Names for brief biographical
notes on the four men named. They were the four most
revered statesmen of the fifth centrn:y, and to cdtidze them
as Plato is about to (and then see also 515b ff.) would
have been as shocking a piece of iconoclasm as for a
British writer today to criticize Winston Churchill.
504a not long ago: 452a-b, 464b ff.
504b no choice: acruaUy, there is plenty of choke~ of course.
The argument has relied on cases of things which are both
material and composite; we need an a.rgnmenr to convince
us that the mind is composite, at least, or is composite in
the requisite sense.
504d expert of ours: such a person represents an ideal stares-
. man. Since his work involves resrralning people"s desires,
presumably against their wil~ or at least against where
they think their own good Hes, then this line of thought
leads directly ro the political proposals of Republic. The
medical metaphor of 505a and elsewhere also encouraged
Plato's authoritarian side, since it does make some sense
to suggest that a medical expert can overrrule his patients"
desires, on the grounds that he knows best what is good
for them, At 517b there is an overt mention. of •forcing',
504d giving or taking, a politician in the Athenian mould would
be expected to impose some form of taxation on the rich,
and pay citizens for thf:r attendance in one of the lawcourts.
159
 pg. 34

Plato
Map of Gorgias
(Oxford World Classics 1998)

(Our extract from Gorgias is long. This ‘map’ should help you find sections you are
looking for. It should also assist with revision.)

480a-d  Socrates: Our chief concern should be to avoid doing wrong, as it will
bring harm to us
 We must make sure that the ailment of immorality does not become
entrenched
 Paying the penalty leads to ‘getting well again’
 If this is so, then rhetoric cannot be used to evade punishment (as you
have argued), but instead to expose crimes in order to save the
perpetrator from ‘the worst of all conditions, immorality’
480e  In order to avoid inconsistency we must reject our earlier conclusions (
eg that ‘paying the penalty’ cures immorality), or accept that rhetoric
cannot be used to evade punishment
481a  Conversely, if you want to do harm to someone who is doing wrong to
someone else, do not use rhetoric to expose his crimes, but instead use it
to ensure that he escapes punishment
481c  Callicles cannot believe Socrates truly holds such revolutionary beliefs.
 Socrates says he is voicing his true inner convictions, and contrasts this
d with Callicles incapability of challenging the views of his loved ones.
482b  Socrates challenges Callicles to prove that wrongdoing is not absolutely
the worst thing that can happen. If he doesn’t try, it will cause him to
conflict with himself, a fate far worse than conflicting with the entire
world.
482e  Callicles says Socrates steers discussions towards ethical ideas with
popular appeal that depend on convention rather than nature. If a person
is talking from a conventional standpoint, Socrates slips in a question
about nature, and vice versa – for example, Polus was speaking from a
conventional standpoint (being wrong is more contemptible) but Socrates
followed up from nature, where if something is worse it is more
contemptible (suffering wrong).
483b  Callicles: Being wronged is something which happens to the weak, who
constitute the majority of society, and so who make the rules that cow
the strong.
 Natural law, however, dictates that it is right for the strong to have more.
485  Callicles negative feelings about the study of philosophy and his
prediction of Socrates appearance in court.
487a  Socrates professes his gladness at finding a person with knowledge,
affection and candour – this means that ideas agreed on by both of them
need no further testing.

(Table continued next page.)

 pg. 35

488b  ‘Natural right’ is the forcible seizure of property belonging to inferior

488d people by the superior, the dominance of the worse by the better, and the
unequal distribution of goods in favour of the élite.
 ‘Superior’, ‘better’, and ‘stronger’ are all synonymous.
 The masses are superior to a single person.
 The masses make the regulations.
e  Regulations prescribed by the masses are being prescribed by a superior
489a group.
 So: from the standpoint of nature, their regulations are good, since
the ones who prescribe them are superior.
 The general populace rules that equality is right, and doing wrong
is more contemptible than suffering wrong.
 So: Nature endorses these views too.
489c  Callicles says the masses are deemed second-rate and would be
discounted if it weren’t for their physical strength.
490a  Superior is clever.
490b  Socrates utilizes allegories of the dietician, coat-maker, cobbler and
farmer to illustrate that whilst one may be the cleverest in a certain field,
it doesn’t translate to need or even what’s best for them to get the
greatest share.
491b  Callicles changes definition: Superior people have applied their
cleverness to politics, and have courage that enables them to see their
policies through without losing their nerve and giving up.
491e  Socrates asks whether superior people are in control of themselves and
their desires, as well as their communities?
 Callicles: Human desire is incompatible with enslavement to anyone.
492a  The superior man has worked his way into the position where he can
satisfy all his whims and desires. It is shameful for such a man to
exchange the freedom to enjoy the good things in life without
interference, for the acceptance of a master – convention, opinion and
492d strictures of the majority.
 If we’re to fulfill our potential, we should let our desires grow as large as
possible and then do whatever it takes to satisfy them: this is a good
state of existence.
 The idea that people who need nothing are happy is wrong; otherwise
nothing would be happier than a corpse or a stone.
493b  Socrates: the part of the mind containing desire is characterized by its
susceptibility and its instability – Hades and the filling of leaky jars with
water from a sieve: these people are fools with unreliable, forgetful
494d minds.
 Analogy of the two people with a set of jars each, one of which is
cracked and flawed.
494d  Callicles says the one with the full jars can feel neither pleasure nor
distress. An enjoyable life consists in keeping as much pouring in as
possible.
494d  A life spent metaphorically ‘scratching itches’ is a pleasant one.
 Pleasant, happy and good are synonymous.
 So: a life spent scratching an itch is pleasant and good.
494e  Socrates asks whether the life of a catamite, who endlessly satisfies his
needs, is a happy and good one.
495a  There is no difference between good and bad pleasures.
 pg. 36

495d  The pleasant and good are identical, but knowledge and courage are
different from each other and from goodness.
495e  People who live well are in the opposite situation from those who live
badly.
 These states are opposed to one another.
 Health and illness are also opposed to one another
 Opposing things cannot coexist simultaneously, but rather
are gained and lost alternately.
496e  When a thirsty person is drinking, they are simultaneously
feeling pleasure and distress.
 It follows that to feel pleasure is not the same as to live
well, and that to feel distress is not the same as to live
badly either. Therefore, the pleasant and the good are
different.
497e  Brave, clever people are good, superior and better; cowards and fools are
inferior.
498c  There is little to tell between clever and thoughtless people in terms of
experiencing pleasure or distress – the cowards and fools may experience
these feelings more intensely than heroes.
 So, there is little to tell between good and bad people in
terms of feelings of pleasure and distress.
 Pleasure and good are the same.
 Any pleasant experience is, by that token, a possession of
499a good.
 So, people who feel pleasure are good, people who feel
distress are bad.
499b  This means there’s little to tell between good people and
bad people in terms of how good and bad they are – if
anything, bad people are better than good people.
Such are the consequences of arguing that the good and the pleasurable are
the same.
499e  Some pleasures are good and some are bad. Beneficial ones are good
 The good is not a means but an end
500a  So, the good should be the aim of pleasant activities, not pleasure the
aim of good activities
 It takes expertise to distinguish good from bad, whereas knowing to
please others is only a “knack” (e.g. cookery, rhetoric)
 Pleasure of body or mind is a matter of gratification
501c  The good of body or mind is a matter of improvement, of seeking what
is best for body or mind
502d  Improvement is better than gratification
503c  Good men satisfy only those desires whose fulfillment will make them
better people; this is a matter for expertise
504a  No craftsmen (people with expertise) are aimless in their work; they
strive to ‘form the whole into an organized and ordered object’
 It takes organization to make a house, ship or body good; minds also
504d  In a mind, law and convention make the mind just and self-controlled
 A good rhetorician seeks ways to make fellow citizens’ minds more
organized and orderly, that is, more just, self-controlled and good
 pg. 37

505b Sick body / sick mind analogy (a sick mind is an ignorant self-indulgent one)
 We must keep a sick body / mind from doing what it desires and keep
it to a regimen that will make it better
 So, ‘discipline is better for the mind than the indulgence you
[Callicles] were recommending not long ago’
505c Callicles sullenly refuses to take part any further in the discussion; suggests
Socrates completes the discussion by himself. Socrates agrees, at Gorgias’s
prompting
505e Socrates’ project: ‘Once knowledge of what is and isn’t true in these matters
is out in the open, we’ll all benefit equally, so I think we should all strive to
be the first to get there.’
506a Socrates’ methods: Socrates claims not to speak as an expert with knowledge,
but to ‘look into things with your help’
 If you prove me wrong, I will ensure that ‘the public register lists you
as my greatest benefactor’ [since inconsistency leads to ignorance and
disorderliness]
506c Socrates begins his ‘review of the whole argument so far’
 The pleasant is not the same as the good
 The good should be the reason we do pleasant things
 The quality of being pleasant makes us enjoy things [pleasant things
give us enjoyment]
506d  The quality of being good makes us good [good things make us good]
 States of goodness (in anything) occur due to organization, perfection
and the particular branch of expertise [seems to mean ‘organization
and perfection in line with expert knowledge of the thing’]
 So, ‘a good state is an orderly and organized state’
 A thing needs to be informed by the orderly structure appropriate to it
 An orderly mind is a disciplined mind
 So, a self-disciplined mind is a good mind
 An undisciplined and self-indulgent mind is a bad mind

507b  A disciplined person acts appropriately towards god and men

 Appropriate behaviour towards men = justice; appropriate behaviour
towards gods = religion
 A disciplined person has the courage not to choose inappropriate
objects
 So, a disciplined person is just, brave and religious – a paradigm of
goodness
507c  ‘A good person is bound to do whatever he does well and
successfully.’ Success brings happiness and fulfillment
 Anyone who wants to be happy must seek out and practice self-
discipline. If necessary, he must let justice and restraint be imposed, or
507e forfeit happiness
 Our own and our community’s energies should be devoted to ensuring
the presence of justice and self-discipline, so guaranteeing happiness
 We shouldn’t refuse to retrain our desires because that condemns us to
a life of endlessly trying to satisfy them – the life of a predatory
outlaw, never on good terms with others, since co-operation is a
prerequisite for friendship
508a  Similarly, the universe is an ordered whole, not a disorderly mess
 pg. 38

508b [Socrates returns to his initial claim that it is worse to do wrong than to suffer
wrong]
What conclusions follow from the view that happiness depends on a person
being just and self-disciplined?
 We should denounce wrongs committed by self, family and friends
508d  This is the only usefulness of rhetoric
 Being wrongly harmed is not the most contemptible thing that can
happen to a person; it is more contemptible to be the wrong-doer, and
509c worse [more harmful] for him than for me
 If the worst thing is for crimes to go unpunished, then why is it
ridiculous for me to be incapable of providing a good defence?
 The most important defence is the ability to avert what does us most
harm.
 The more harm something does, the more admirable is one’s ability to
defend oneself, one’s family and one’s friends from that harm.
 The most harmful things are iniquity and not being punished for
iniquity.
 pg. 39

Callicles' ‘happy person’

This discussion is from a past student. It provides a sympathetic account of Callicles’ views
on pleasure, self-control and the good life.

Callicles' view of the happy person has much in common with the classical view of the good
life. He endorses a heroic life with the modifications necessary to thrive in a democratic
environment. His appetite for the tastes of pleasure and experience would not be out of place
in Homeric legend, but he gains and holds power through the influence of rhetoric.

According to Callicles, it is the hero, the great, who can live well precisely because he alone
is strong enough to reject the confining strictures of convention.

When Callicles appears to reject self control, he is in fact not [doing so]. He wants to be in
control. Rather he is rejecting the control we exercise over ourselves to adhere to social
standards per se. I am sure that he would accept the necessity to offer to the Gods, support
war widows etc in the same way that he accepts the desirability of some training in
philosophy. He would accept that it is part of social 'finish'.

Self control would be most important for a figure like Callicles. I dare say he would be ready
to undertake extreme privation in what he held to be his long term good. He doesn't reject self
control. He rejects what Socrates' would have him do with this control.

After all, he does not declare self discipline to be folly, but rather says that "by self discipline
you mean folly...that's exactly what you mean, because human happiness is incompatible
with slavery to anyone" (491e). That is, self discipline lies not in holding your true nature in
check to conform to societal values (which is folly, and cannot lead to happiness), but in
having the courage and cleverness to find your own path. The self discipline of social,
conventional morality is just hypocrisy and fear of ostracism.

"Imagine someone born to inherit a kingdom, or someone who lacks this initial advantage,
but has been equipped by nature with the resources needed for gaining some position of
power...could anything be worse for these kinds of people than self-discipline and justice?
They would exchange the freedom to enjoy the good things of life without interference from
anyone for the voluntary acceptance of a master – namely, the conventions, opinions, and
strictures of the majority" (492b).

Callicles compares a person with no needs to a corpse. Indeed, people who over-suppress
their desires are dead to themselves. Often depression and alienation lead to loss of desire.
Callicles holds that a thirsty person enjoys drinking, and would agree that it is good to have a
thirst for life.

People feel hunger, thirst, sexual desire for entirely natural and good reasons. To talk of these
longings as painful, except in their most extreme manifestations, is ludicrous, as Callicles
knows. When he agrees with Socrates that thirsty means "feeling distress" (496d) he is being
conned. Desires motivate us to carry out activities that are good for us, and the pleasure that
results is itself a physical indication that we have fulfilled a biological need.
 pg. 40

While Callicles is made to appear (and could be) an amoral hedonist, some of his arguments
could equally be used to support a Martin Luther King or Mahatma Gandhi, who reject
conventional morality and use persuasion to achieve personal aims related to their view of
natural morality. Callicles' thirst for power is not just sensual; he speaks of helping some
groups and acting against others.

Callicles considers a happy person to be one that has achieved sufficient social power and
self-awareness to act to meet their natural needs, rejecting if need be any social constraints on
these actions.

I wonder what Callicles would have thought of our society, the first to produce enough
wealth to allow the (Western) poor to become obese, to offer enough freedom to enable
anyone to be as promiscuous as they wish. I like to think that he would see our
pathologically, unnaturally over-stimulated desires as just another conventional morality, one
driven by an ethic of plenty rather than scarcity.

"The position held by Callicles is not immoralist - it involves the rejection of conventional
right in favour of natural right as something claimed to be higher, better and morally
superior". In fact Callicles is supporting not just the way things are, but what nature
prescribes. As Kerferd argues, it is to be doubted that the doctrine of sensual indulgence is the
real direction of Callicles' thinking.
 pg. 41

Aristotle
BOOK.I · THE HUMAN GOOD
·~e r-2, c.qma.c.17ea..'<? £ thtc..s
- - - - - - ~ - - ~--~-----.,,.,,~---~, ~~-~--~·=--=-~~---q--•s,•~,-~- ___,....,~--~-,--,··---~-------~ ----··---·---

SUBJECT OF OUR INQUIRY

;& ·All human activities aim at some good: some goods subordinate to
others
1. EVERY art and every inquiry, and similarly every action and 109 4a

choice, is thought to aim at some good; and for this reason the good
has rightly been declared to be that at which all things aim.* But a
certain difference is found among ends; some are activities, others
are products apart from the activities that produce them. Where 5
there are ends apart from the actions, it is the nature of the prod-
ucts to be better than the activities. Now, as there are many actions,
arts, and sciences, their ends also are many; the end of the medical
art is health, that of shipbuilding a vessel, that of strategy victory,
th;tt of economics wealth. But where such arts fall under a single ro
capacity-as bridle-making and the other arts concerned with the
equipment of horses fall under the art of riding, and this and every
military'action under strategy, in the same way other arts fall under
yet others-in all of these the ends of the master arts are to be pre-
ferred to all the subordinate ends; for it is for the sake of the former 1s
that the latter are pursued. It makes no difference whether the activ-
ities themselves are the ends of the actions, or somhhing else apart
from the activities, as in the case of the sciences just mentioned.

The science of the human good is politics

2. If, then, there is some end of the things we do, which we desire
for its own sake (everything else being desired for the sake of this), zo
and if we do not choose everything for the sake of something else
(for at that rate the process would go on to infinity, so that our
desire would be empty and vain), clearly this must be the good and
the chief good.* Will not the knowledge of it, then, have a great
influence on life? Shall we not, like archers who have a mark to aim at,
be more likely to hit upon what is right? If so, we must try, in outline 25
at least, to determine what it is, and of which of the sciences or capaci-
ties it is the object. It would seem to belong to the most authorita-
tive art and that which is most truly the master art. And politics
 4 THE NICOMACHEAN ETHICS LJ pg. 42
THE NICOMACHEAN ETHICS !.4 5
appears to be of this nature;* for it is this that ordains which of the
is a good judge of that subject, and the man who has received an ro95a
ro94b sciences should be studied in a state, and which each class of citi-
all-round education is a good judge in general. Hence a young man
zens should learn and up to what point they should learn them; and
is not a proper hearer of lectures on political science;*_ for h_e is
we see even the most highly esteemed of capacities to fall under this,
inexperienced in the actions that occur in life, but its d1scuss10ns
e.g. strategy, economics, rhetoric; now, since politics uses the rest of
start from these and are about these; and, further, since he tends to
s the sciences, and since, again, it legislates as to what we are to do and follow his passions, his study will be vain and unprofitable, because 5
what we are to abstain from, the end of this science must include
the end aimed at is not knowledge but action. And it makes no
those of the others, so that this end must be the human good. For
difference whether he is young in years or youthful in character; the
even if the end is the same for a single man and for a state, that of the
defect does not depend on time, but on his living, and pursuing
state seems at all events something greater and more complete
each successive object, as passion directs. For to such persons, as
whether to attain or to preserve; though it is worth while to attain the
to the incontinent, knowledge brings no profit; but to those who ro
ro end merely for one man, it is finer and more godlike to attain it for
desire and act in accordance with reason, knowledge about such
a nation or for city-states. These, then, are the ends at which our
matters will be of great benefit.
inquiry aims, since it is political science, in one sense of that term.
These remarks about the student, the sort of treatment to be
expected, and the purpose of the inquiry, may be taken as our preface.
NATURE OF THE SCIENCE

We must not expect more precision than the subject-matter admits WHAT IS THE HUMAN GOOD?
of The student should have reached years ofdiscretion
It is generally agreed to be happiness, but there are _various views as to
3. Our discussion will be adequate if it has as much dearness as the what happiness is. What is required at the start zs an unreasoned_
subject-matter admits of, for precision is not to be sought for alike }onviction about the facts, such as is produced by a good upbringing
in all discussions, any more than in all the products of the crafts.
4. Let us resume our inquiry and state, in view of the _fa~t that all
rs Now noble and just actions, which political science investigates
knowledge and every pursuit aims at some good, what it 1s that we 15
exhibit much variety and fluctuation, so that they may be though~
say political science aims at and what is th~ highest of all goods
to exist only by convention, and not by nature.* But goods exhibit
achievable by action. Verbally there is very general agreement; for
a similar fluctuation because they bring harm to many people; for
both the general run of men and people of superior r~finement ~ay
before now men have been undone by reason of their wealth, and
that it is happiness,* and identify living well and fanng well with
others by reason of their courage. We must be content then in
being happy; but with regard to what happiness is they differ, and 20
20 speaking of such subjects and with such premisses to indicate 'the
the many do not give the same account as the wise. For the former
truth roughly and in outline, and in speaking about things which
think it is some plain and obvious thing, like pleasure, wealth, or
are only for the most part true, and with premisses of the same kind,
honour; they differ, however, from one another-and often even
to reach conclusions that are no better. In the same spirit therefore
the same man identifies it with different things, with health-when
should each type of statement be received; for it is the :nark of a~
he is ill with wealth when he is poor; but, conscious of their ignor- 25
educated man to look for precision in each class of things just so far
ance, they admire those who proclaim some great thing that is
2
5 as the nature of the subject admits; it is evidently equally foolish to
above their comprehension. Now some thought that apart from
accept probable reasoning from a mathematician and to demand
from a rhetorician demonstrative proofs. these many goods there is another which is good in itself* and
causes the goodness of all these as well. To examine all the opinions
Now each man judges well the things he knows and of these he
that have been held were perhaps somewhat fruitless; enough to
is a good judge. And so the man who has been edu~ated in a subject
examine those that are most prevalent or that seem to be arguable.
 6 pg. 43
THE NICOMACHEAN ETHICS I. 5
30
Let us not fail to notice, however, that there is a difference between
a:gu!T.lents_ f:om a~d those to the first principles. For Plato, too, was
nght m ra1smg this question and asking, as he used to do, 'Are we
on the way from or to the first principles?' There is a difference
as there. is in ~ racecourse between the course from the judges t~
the t~rnm~-pomt and the way back. For, while we must begin with
w?at 1s evident, things are evident in two ways-some to us some
w1~hout qualification. Presumably, then, we must begin with ~hings
evident to u~. He~ce anyone who is to listen intelligently to lectures
abo_u_t wha~ 1s noole and just and, generally, about the subjects of
5 poh~1cal sc1e~ce must have been brought up in good habits. For the
fact 1s a startmg-point, * and if this is sufficiently plain to him, he will
not need the reas?n as well; and the man who has been well brought
up has or can easily get starting-points. And as for him who neither
has nor can get them, let him hear the words of Hesiod:
IO
Far best is he who knows all things himself;
Good, he that ~earkens when men counsel right;
But he who neither knows, nor lays to heart
Another's wisdom, is a useless wight.
Discussion of the popular viervs that the good is pleasure honour
wealth,· a fourth kind of life, that of contemplation, deferred '
fer future discussion
5- L~t us, however, resume our discussion from the point at which
rs we d1gressed. 1 To judge from the lives that men lead most men
and me~ of the most vulgar type, seem (not without s;me ground)
to 1dent1fy the good, or happiness, with pleasure; which is the rea-
son why th~y love the life o~ enjoyment. For there are, we may say,
three ~romment types of life-that just mentioned, the political,
an~ thirdly t?e contemplative life.* Now the mass of mankind are
20 evidently qmte slavish in their tastes, preferring a life suitable to
beasts, but they get some ground for their view from the fact that
many ?f tho~e in high places share the tastes of Sardanapallus. *
A con_s1derat10n of the prominent types of life shows that people of
s~penor refinemen: a_nd of active disposition identify happiness
' :1th ho~our; for this 1s, roughly speaking, the end of the political
life. But 1t seems too superficial to be what we are looking for, since
I a30.
THE NICOMA CHEAN ETHICS I. 6 7
it is thought to depend on those who bestow honour rather than on 25
him who re~eives it, but the good we divine to be something of
one's own and not easily taken from one. Further, men seem to
pursue honour in order that they may be assured of their merit; at
least it is by men of practical wisdom that they seek to be honoured,
and among those who know them, and on the ground of their vir-
tue· clearly then according to them, at any rate, virtue is better.
And perha;s one' might even suppose this to be, rather than hon- 30
our, the end of the political life. But even this appears somewhat
incomplete;* for possession of virtue seems actually compatible
with being asleep, or with lifelong inactivity, and, further, with the
greatest sufferings and misfortunes; but a man who was living so ro96a
no one would call happy, unless he were maintaining a thesis at all
costs. But enough of this; for the subject has been sufficiently
treated even in the popular discussions. Third comes the contem-
plative life, which we shall consider later. 1
The life of money-making is one undertaken under compuision, 5
and wealth is evidently not the good we are seeking; for it is merely
useful and for the sake of something else. And so one might rather
take the aforenamed objects to be ends; for they are loved for them-
selves. But it is evident that not even these are the end; yet many
arguments have been wasted on the support of them. Let us leave IO
this subject, then.
'
Discussion of the philosophical view that thei;e is a Form ofgood
6. We had perhaps better consider the universal good and discuss
thoroughly what is meant by it, although such an inquiry is made
an uphill one by the fact that the Forms have been introduced by
friends of our own.* Yet it would perhaps be thought to be better,
indeed to be our duty, for the sake of maintaining the truth even to 15
destroy what touches us closely, especially as we are philosophers
or lovers of wisdom; for, while both are dear, piety requires'us to
honour truth above our friends.
The men who introduced this doctrine did not posit Ideas of
classes within which they recognized priority and posteriority (which
is the reason why they did not maintain the existence of an Idea
embracing all numbers); but the term 'good' is used both in the 20
category of substance and in that of quality and in that of relation,
1 rr77a12-r178a8, rr78a22-rr79a32.

IO THE NICOMACHEAN ETHICS I.7
The good must be something.final and self-sufficient. Definition of
happiness reached by considering the characteristic function ofman
rs 7. Let us again return to the good we are seeking, and ask what it
can be. It seems different in different actions and arts; it is different
in medicine, in strategy, and in the other arts likewise. What then
is the good of each? Surely that for whose sake everything else is
done. In medicine this is health, in strategy victory, in architecture
20 a house, in any other sphere something else, and in every action and
pursuit the end; for it is for the sake of this that all men do whatever
else they do. Therefore, if there is an end for all that we do, this will
be the good achievable by action, and if there are more than one,
these will be the goods achievable by action.
So the argument has by a different course reached the same
25 point; but we must try to state this even more clearly. Since there
are evidently more than one end, and we choose some of these (e.g.
wealth, flutes, and in general instruments) for the sake of something
else, clearly not all ends are final ends; but the chief good is evi-
dently something final.* Therefore, if there is only one final end,
this will be what we are seeking, and if there are more than one, the
30 most final of these will be what we are seeking. Now we call that
which is in itself worthy of pursuit more final than that which is
worthy of pursuit for the sake of something else, and that which is
never desirable for the sake of something else more final than the
things that are desirable both in themselves and for the sake of that
other thing, and therefore we call final without qualification that
which is always desirable in itself and never for the sake of some-
thing else.
ro97b Now such a thing happiness, above all else, is held to be; for this
we choose always for itself and never for the sake of something else,
but honour, pleasure, reason, and every virtue we choose indeed for
themselves (for if nothing resulted from them we should still choose
each of them), but we choose them also for the sake of happiness,
5 judging that through them we shall be happy. Happiness, on the
other hand, no one chooses for the sake of these, nor, in general, for
anything other than itself.
From the point of view of self-sufficiency the same result seems
to follow; for the final good is thought to be self-sufficient. Now by
self-sufficient we do not mean that which is sufficient for a man by
pg. 44
THE NICOMACHEAN ETHICS l. 7 II
• lf for one who lives a solitary life, but also for parents, children, ro
hnnse , .. . .
•c nd in gerieral for his friends and fellow citizens, smce man 1s
w11e,a . . . •. c ·c
for citizenship.* But some limit must be set to this, 1or 11 we
born - d f. d '
. d our requirement to ancestors and descendants
exten . an
. nen. s
friends we are in for an infinite series. Let us e_xamme this quest10n,
however, on another occasion; 1 the self-sufficient we n?w ~efine as rs
h t which when isolated makes life desirable and lackmg mh.noth-
t a k.
· . and such we think happiness to be;* and further we t m 1t
mg, · d h.
rno st desirable of all things, not a thmg . counted as one goo, t mg
ong others*-if it were so counted 1t would clearly be maae more
am c h ,.h
desirable by the addition of even the least of goods; 1or t at wmc
is added becomes an excess of goods, and of goods the greater is
always more desirable. Happiness, then, is something final and self- 20
sufficient and is the end of action.
Presu~ably, however, to say that happiness is the chief good
seems a platitude, and a clearer account of what it is is still desired.
This might perhaps be given, if we could first ascertain the function
of man. For just as for a flute-player, a sculptor, or any artist, and, 25
in general, for all things that have a function or activity, th_e good
and the 'well' is thought to reside in the function, so would 1t seem
to b~ for man, if he has a function. Have the carpenter, then, and
the tanner certain functions or activities, and has man none? Is he
born without a function? Or as eye, hand, foot, and in general each 30
of the parts evidently has a function, may one l_ry it down that man
similarly has a function apart from all these?* What then can this
be? Life seems to belong even to plants, but we are seeking what is
peculiar to man. Let us exclude, therefore, the life of nutrition and
growth. Next there would be a life of perception, but it also seems 1098a
to be shared even by the horse, the ox, and every animal. There
remains then an active life of the element that has reason; of this,
one par: has i~ in the sense of being obedient to reason, the other in
the sense of possessing reason and exercising thought.* And, as 'life
of the rational element' also has two meanings,* we must state that s
life in the sense of activity is what we mean; for this seems to be the
more proper sense of the term. Now if the function of man is an
activity of soul which follows or implies reason, and if we say 'a so-
and-so' and 'a good so-and-so' have a function which is the same in
kind, e.g. a lyre-player and a good lyre-player, and so without
1 i. 10, 11 1 ix. ro.
 IZ THE NlCOMACHEAN ETHICS I. 7
IO qualification in all cases, eminence in respect of goodness being
~dded to t~e name of the function (for the function of a lyre-player
1s :o_play the lyre, and that of a good lyre-player is to do so well): if
this is the case [and we state the function of man to be a certain kind
of !ife, an~ th_is to be an activity or actions of the soul implying a
rat10nal prmc1ple, and the function of a good man to be the good
and noble performance of these, and if any action is well performed
rs when it is performed in accordance with the appropriate virtue: if
this is the case], human good turns out to be activity of soul exhib-
iting virtue,* and if there are more than one virtue in accordance
with the best and most complete.* ' this view which is an old one and agreed on by philosophers. It 1s
But we must add 'in a complete life'. For one swallow does not
~ake a summer, nor does one day; and so too one day, or a short
time, does not make a man blessed and happy.
20
Let this ~erve as an outline of the good; for we must presumably
first sketch it roughly, and then later fill in the details. But it would
seem that any one is capable of carrying on and articulating what
has once been well outlined, and that time is a good discoverer or
partner in such a work; to which facts the advances of the arts are
2 5 due; for any one can add what is lacking. And we must also remem-
be: wha~ has been said before, 1 and not look for precision in all
thmgs alike, but in each class of things such precision as accords
:,vith_ the subject-matter, and so much as is appropriate to the
'.nq~iry. For a carpenter and a geometer investigate the right angle
3° m different ways; the former does so in so far as the right angle is
useful for his work, while the latter inquires what it is or what sort
of thing it is; for he is a spectator of the truth. We must act in the
same way, then, in all other matters as well, that our main task may
not be subordinated to minor questions. Nor must we demand the
ro98b cause in all matters alike; it is enough in some cases that the fact be
w~ll establ~shed, as in the case of the first principles; the fact is a
pn1:1ary t~mg and first principle. Now of first principles we see some
by mduct10n, some by perception, some by a certain habituation
an~ othe~s too_ in other ways. But each set of principles we must tr;
5 to_mvest1gate m the natural way, and we must take pains to deter-
mme them correctly, since they have a great influence on what
follows. For the beginning is thought to be more than half of the
whole, and many of the questions we ask are cleared up by it.
THE NICOMACHEAN ETHICS I.8 pg. 45 13
Our d~finition is confirmed by current beliefs about happiness
8. But we must consider happiness in the ligh~ not only of O:ff
conclusion and our premisses, but also of what_ 1s comm~nly said IO
b ut it· for with a true view all the data harmomze, but with a false
:n: the' facts soon clash. Now goods have been divided into_ three
classes,* and some are described as external, others as relatmg to
soul or to body; we call those that relate to soul most properly ~nd
truly goods, and psychical actions and activities we class as re~atmg 15
to soul. Therefore our account must be sound, at least accordmg ~o
correct also in that we identify the end with certain actions and
activities; for thus it falls among goods of the soul and not amon_g
external goods. Another belief which harmonizes with our acco~nt 1s 20
that the happy man lives well and fares well; for we have practically
defined happiness as a sort of living and faring well. The character-
istics that are looked for in happiness seem also, all of them, to
belong to what we have defined happiness as being. For some id~n-
tify happiness with virtue, some with practical wisdom, others with
a kind of philosophic wisdom, others with these, or one of these,
ac~ompanied by pleasure or not without pleasure; wh_ile others 25
include also external prosperity. Now some of these views have
been held by many men and men of old, others by a few emi~ent
persons; and it is not probable that either of tqese should be entirely
mistaken, but rather that they should be right in at least some one
respect, or even in most respects.
With those who identify happiness with virtue or some one 30
virtue our account is in harmony;* for to virtue belongs virtuous
activity. But it makes, perhaps, no small difference :,vheth~r we ?l~ce
the chief good in possession or in use, in state of mmd or m act1v1ty.
For the state of mind may exist without producing any good result, ro99a
as in a man who is asleep or in some other way quite inactive, but
the activity cannot; for one who has the activity will of necessity be
acting, and acting well. And as in the Olympic Games it is not the
most beautiful and the strongest that are crowned but those who
compete (for it is some of these that are victor!ous): so_ those who 5
act win, and rightly win, the noble and good thmgs m hfe.
Their life is also in itself pleasant. For pleasure is a state of soul,
and to each man that which he is said to be a lover of is pleasant;
 14 THE NICOMACHEAN ETHICS I. 8
e.g. not only is a horse pleasant to the lover of horses, and a spec-
ro tacle to the lover of sights, but also in the same way just acts are
pleasant to the lover of justice and in general virtuous acts to the
lover of virtue. Now for most men their pleasures are in conflict
with one another because these are not by nature pleasant, but
the lovers of what is noble find pleasant the things that are by
nature pleasant; and virtuous actions are such, so that these are
rs pleasant for such men as well as in their own nature. Their life
therefore, has no further need of pleasure as a sort of adventitiou~
charm, but has its pleasure in itself. For, besides what we have said,
the man who does not rejoice in noble actions is not even good;
since no one would call a man just who did not enjoy acting justly,
20 nor any man liberal who did not enjoy liberal actions; and similarly
in all other cases.* If this is so, virtuous actions must be in them-
selves pleasant. But they are also good and noble, and have each of
these attributes in the highest degree, since the good man judges
well about these attributes; his judgement is such as we have
described. Happiness then is the best, noblest, and most pleasant
25 thing in the world, and these attributes are not severed as in the
inscription at Delos-
Most noble is that which is justest, and best is health; But most
pleasant it is to win what we love.
For all these properties belong to the best activities; and these, or
3° one-the best-of these, we identify with happiness.
Yet evidently, as we said, 1 it needs the external goods as well; for
it is impossible, or not easy, to do noble acts without the proper
ro99b equipment. In many actions we use friends and riches and political
power as instruments; and there are some things the lack of which
takes the lustre from happiness-good birth, goodly children,
beauty;* for the man who is very ugly in appearance or ill-born or
solitary and childless is not very likely to be happy, and perhaps a
s man would be still less likely if he had thoroughly bad children or
friends or had lost good children or friends by death. As we said, 2
then, happiness seems to need this sort of prosperity in addition;
for which reason some identify happiness with good fortune,
though others identify it with virtue.
2 ibid.
THE NICOMACHEAN ETHICS l.9 pg. 46 15
z p,,z·nes,
T ,ia
"s 1' · •
acauired
1
bv
•
learning or habituation, or sent by god or
by chance?•
For this reason also the question is asked, whether happiness is
~~ be ~cquired by learning or by habit~~tion or ~ome other s~rt of
· · g, or comes
rramm - in virtue of some d1vme providence .. or agam by 10
Now if there is any gift of the gods to men, 1t 1s reasonable
chance. • f
that happiness should be god-given* and most surely go~-g1ven o
all human things inasmuch as it is the bes~. Bu_t this qu~stwn would
perhaps be more appropriate to another mqmry; happme~s seems:
however, even if it is not god-sent but comes as a result of virtue and r 5
some process of learning or training, to be among the most godlike
things; for that which is the prize and end o~ virtue seems to be the
best thing in the world, and something godlike and blessed.
It will also on this view be very generally shared; for all who are
not maimed as regards their potentiality for virtue may win it by a
certain kind of study and care. But if it is better to be happy thus 20
than by chance, it is reasonable that the facts should be so, since
everything that depends on the action of nature is by nature as good
as it can be, and similarly everything that depends on art or any
ratiqnal cause, and especially if it depends on the best of all causes.
To ·entrust to chance what is greatest and most noble would be a
very defective arrangement.
The answer to the question we are asking is plain also from the 2 5
definition of happiness;* for it has been said to ±be a virtuous activity
of soul of a certain kind. Of the remaining goods, some must neces-
sarily ;re-exist as conditions of happiness, and others are naturally
co~operative and useful as instruments. And this will be found to
agree with what we said at the outset;1 for ~~ state~ the end of
political science to be the best end, and political sc1~nce spends 30
most of its pains on making the citizens to be of a certam character,
namely, good and capable of noble acts.
It is natural, then, that we call neither ox nor horse nor any,other
of the animals happy; for none of them is capable of sharing in such
activity. For this reason also a boy is not happy; for he is not yet IIOOa
capable of such acts, owing to his age; and boys who are called
happy are being congratulated by reason of the hopes we hav~ for
them. For there is required, as we said,2 not only complete virtue
2 1098ar8-20.
 16 THE NICOMACHEAN ETHICS I. I 0
but also a complete life, since many changes occur in life, and all
manner of chances, and the most prosperous may fall into great
misfortunes in old age, as is told of Priam in the Trojan Cycle;* and
one who has experienced such chances and has ended wretchedly
no one calls happy.
Should no man be called happy while he lives?
IO HJ. Must no one at all, then, be called happy while he lives; must
we, as Solon* says, see the end? Even if we are to lay down this
doctrine, is it also the case that a man is happy when he is dead? Or
is not this quite absurd, especially for us who say that happiness is
an activity? But if we do not call the dead man happy, and if Solon
rs does not mean this, but that one can then safely call a man blessed,
as being at last beyond evils and misfortunes, this also affords matter
for discussion; for both evil and good are thought to exist for a dead
man, as much as for one who is alive but not aware of them;* e.g.
20 honours and dishonours and the good or bad fortunes of children,
and in general of descendants. And this also presents a problem; for
though a man has lived blessedly until old age and has had a death
worthy of his life, many reverses may befall his descendants-some
of them may be good and attain the life they deserve, while with
25 others the opposite may be the case; and clearly too the degrees of
relationship between them and their ancestors may vary indefin-
itely. It would be odd, then, if the dead man were to share in these
changes and become at one time happy, at another wretched; while
it would also be odd if the fortunes of the descendants did not for
30 some time have some effect on the happiness of their ancestors.
But we must return to our first difficulty;* for perhaps by a con-
sideration of it our present problem might be solved. Now if we
must see the end and only then call a man blessed, not as being
blessed but as having been so before, surely this is a paradox, that
when he is happy the attribute that belongs to him is not to be truly
35 predicated of him because we do not wish to call living men happy,
noob on account of the changes that may befall them, and because we
have assumed happiness to be something permanent and by no
means easily changed, while a single man may suffer many turns of
fortune's wheel. For clearly if we were to follow his fortunes, we
s should often call the same man happy and again wretched, making
the happy man out to be 'a chameleon, and insecurely based'. Or is
THE NICOMACHEAN ETHICS l. IO pg. 47 I7
, - c !lowing
tn!S 10 •
his fortunes quite wrong? Success or failure in life
does not depend on these, but human life, as we said, 1 needs these
as We ll
, , while virtuous activities or their opposites
- are what deter- IO
mine happiness or the reverse._ , __ .
The question we have now discussed confirms our aefimt10n. For
110 function of man has so much permanence as virtuous_ activities
(these are thought to be more durable even than knowledge of the
sciences), and of these themselves the most valuable are more dur- rs
able because those who are blessed spend their life most readily and
most continuously in these; for this seems to be the reason why we
do not forget them. The attribute in question, then, will belong to
the happy man, and he will be happy throughout his life; for always,
or by preference to everything else, he will do and contemplate what
is excellent, and he will bear the chances of life most nobly and 20
altogether decorously, if he is 'truly good' and 'foursquare beyond
reproach'. _ _ _
Now many events happen by chance, and events d1ffermg m
importance; small pieces of good fortune or of its opposite clearly
do not weigh down the scales of life one way or the other, but a 25
multitude of great events if they turn out well will make life more
blessJd (for not only are they themselves such as to add beauty to
life, but the way a man deals with them may be noble and good),
while if they turn out ill they crush and maim blessedness; for they
both bring pain with them and hinder many ac~ivities. Yet even in 30
these nobility shines through, when a man bears with resignation
many great misfortunes, not through insensibility to pain but
through nobility and greatness of soul.
If activities are, as we said, what determines the character of life,
no blessed man can become miserable; for he will never do the acts
that are hateful and mean. For the man who is truly good and wise, 35
we think bears all the chances of life becomingly and always makes r IOra
the best ~f circumstances, as a good general makes the best military
use of the army at his command, and a good shoemaker makes the
best shoes out of the hides that are given him; and so with all other
craftsmen. And if this is the case, the happy man can never become 5
miserable-though he will not reach blessedness, if he meet with
fortunes like those of Priam.*
 22 THE N ICOM AC HEA N ETHI CS I. 13
r
.

pg. 48

speaking about _a man's character* we do not say that he is wise or

has un~erstandi~g, but that he_ is good-tempered or temperate; Yet
we ~raise the. wise man also with respect to his state of mind; and
BOOK II · MORAL VI RTUE
ro of SLates of mmd we call those which merit praise virtues .
MORAL VIRTUE , H OW IT IS ACQUIRED

_Moral virtue, like the arts, is acquired by repetition of the

AY'is+zrK.e corresponding acts

rrhe
--- - -·-(2icoMa..c.J
___., "
( +h,c.~
1eo.Y1 - -·-- ----- ~-.. .
------···••"'•--- ..
r. V IRTU E , then, being of two kinds, intellectual and moral, intel-
lectual virtue in the main owes both its birth and its growth to
teaching (for which reason it requires experience and time), while
15

moral virtue comes about as a result of habit, whence also its name
(ethike) is one that is formed by a slight variation from the word
ethos (habit). From this it is also plain that none of the moral virtues
arises in us by nature; for nothing that exists by nature can form a zo
habit contrary to its nature. For instance the stone which by nature
moves downwards cannot be habituated to move upwards, not even
if one tries to trai n it by throwing it up ten thousand times; nor can
fire be habituated to move downwards, nor can anything else that
by nature behaves in one way be trained to behave in another.
Neithdr by nature, then, nor contrary to nature do the virtues arise
in us; rather we are adapted by nature to receive them, and ·are zs
made perfect by habit.*
Again, of all the things that come to us by nature we first acquire
the potentiality and later exhibit the activity (thisfis plain in the case
of the senses;* for it was not by often seeing or often hearing that we
got these senses, but on the contrary we had them before we used 30
them, and did not come to have them by using them); but the virtues
we get by first exercising them, as also happens in the case of the arts
as well. For the things we have to learn before we can do them, we
learn by doing them, e.g. men become builders by building and lyre-
players by playing the lyre; so too we become just by doing just acts, 1 ro3b
temperate by doing temperate acts, brave by doing brave acts. ,
T his is confirmed by what happens in states; for legislators make
the citizens good by forming habits in them, and this is the wish of
every legislator, and those who do not effect it miss their mark, and 5
it is in this that a good constitution differs from a bad one.
Again, it is from the same causes and by the same means that every
virtue is both produced and destroyed, and similarly every art; for
 24 THE N I COMACHEAN ETHI CS II .2
NICOMACHEAN ETHICS II . 3 pg. 49 25
it is from playing the lyre that both good and bad lyre-players are
THE . . et more lacking in exact-
ro produced. And the corresponding statement is true of builders and ' account of particular cases is y but the agents
of all the rest; men will be good or bad builders as a result of build- nature, tn~ do not fall under any art or pr~cept, . te to the
uess; for t ey . ach case consider what is appropn~ . *
ing well or badly. For if this were not so, there would have been no
themselves must m e lso in the art of medicine or of nav1gatwn: '
need of a teacher, but all men would have been born good or bad at
asion, as happens a is of this nature we must gn e ro
their craft. This, then, is the case with the virtues also; by doing the oc~ut though our pr~sent haccoul:tt us consider this, that it is the
rs acts that we do in our transactions with other men we become just h n FJrst t en, we
or unjust, and by doing the acts that we do in the presence of dan- w at help weh cal ·ngs . to ' be d estroye. d by defect and excess, as h. s
nature of sue t 11 d of health (for to gain light on t 11'.g
ger, and by being habituated to feel fear or confidence, we becorne
see m the case of strengt:e :~e evidence of sensible things); ex~rc1se
brave or cowardly.* The same is true of appetites and feelings of . perceptible we must u . d the strength and similarly rs
anger; some men become temperate and good-tempered, others J~her excessive or defect1vebestlr:: certain amo~nt destroys the
20 self-indulgent and irascible, by behaving in one way or the other in e1 d h. his above or e o d.
drink or foo w ic . proport10na . te both produces an mcreases
the appropriate circumstances. Thus, in one word, states of charac- ·1 h t which is d
h alth whi et a . . h . the case of temperance an
ter arise out of like activities. This is why the activities we exhibit e ' · S too 1s 1t t en, ID , r
d preserves lt. 0 ' h who flies from ana 1ears
an d h ther virtues Fort e man b zo
must be of a certain kind; it is because the states of character cor-
respond to the differences between these. It makes no small differ-
courage an t _e o d his ground against anything ecomes
everything and does not st~n fears nothing at all but goes to meet
ence, then, whether we form habits of one kind or of another frorn
a coward, and the man wh·o d similarly the man who indulges in
25 our very youth; it makes a very great difference, or rather all the
difference. every danger becomes ras.' anf one becomes self-indulgent,
nd abstams rom n ·
every pleasure a I as boors do becomes m a
h h s every p easure, ' b
These acts cannot be prescribed exactly, but must avoid excess and while the man w o s un d age then are destroyed y 25
defect . 'ble·* temperance an cour ' '
way msens1 ' d b the mean.*
d d f, ct and preserve Y . . . •• d
excess an el e ' d of their ongmaLJOn an
2. Since, then, the present inquiry does not aim at theoretical the sources an causes f
But not h on y are those of th ell' . d t uction but also the sphere o
knowledge like the others (for we are inquiring not in order to know es r ' h.
growth t e same as . . D this is also true of the t mgs
what virtue is, but in order to become good,* since otherwise our their actualization ':111 be the sar:e, eo~ of strefigth; it is pro~uced 30
inquiry would have been of no use), we must examine the nature of which are more evident to sens ' . g ch exertion and it is the
30 actions, namely how we ought to do them; for these determine also h D od and undergomg mu ' . . .h
by taking muc h o bl
;II be most a e to o ct· these things. So too is it wit
*
the nature of the states of character that are produced, as we have
1 strong man t at w1 . . m leasures we become temperate:
said. Now, that we must act in accordance with correct reason is a the virtues; by abstammg fro p th t we are most able to abstam 35
common principle and must be assumed-it will be discussed later,2 . . h have become so a b . b
and It is w en dwe · ·] ]y too m . t h e case of courage·' for by emg r ro4
i.e. both what correct reason is, and how it is related to the other
from them; and simi ar
· things th at are 1ear,. fiul and to stand our ground
rro4a virtues. But this must be agreed upon beforehand, that the whole ~

habituated to espise d : • when we have become so

account of matters of conduct must be given in outline and not pre- . h become brave, an ,t is
agamst
that we tshall em be wemost ab Ie to stan d our ground against them .
cisely, as we said at the very beginning3 that the accounts we demand
must be in accordance with the subject-matter; matters concerned
with cond uct and questions of what is good for us have no fixity, any . d · · t ous acts zs. a sign
. th at the virtuous disposition
. l
Pleasure zn ozng vzr u . .I' 'derations show the essentza
s more than matters of health.* The general account being of this h b n acquired: a variety O; consz .
as eet. of moral virtue with pleasure and pain .
1 a3r-b25. 2
connec zon . res of character the pleasure or pam
Book VI.
3. We must take as a sign of sta h ho abstains from bodily 5
that supervenes upon acts·' for t e man w
 pg. 27
50
THE NICOMACHEAN ETHIC S Il -4
26 T~E N I COMAC HEA N ETH IC S 11.3
_A.o-ain, it has grown up with us all from our infancy; this is why
pleas_ures and delights in this very fact is tern erat . it is difficult to rub off this passion, engrained as it is in our life. And
who· is annoyed
· at it is self-ind u1gent, an d he who
p stand
e, whileh" the man we measure even our actions, some of us more and others less, by
ag~mst thmgs that are terrible and delight . h" s is ground
pamed is brave while th h . s _m t is or at least is not the rule of pleasure and pain. For this reason, then, our whole inquiry s
. . , e man w o is pamed is a c d* must be about these; for to feel deiight and pain rightly or wrongly
mora 1virtue is concerned with 1 .
f h P easures and pams· it ·owar . For
ro o t e pleasure that we do b d h. ' is on account has no small effect on our actions.
we abstain from noble onesa Ht mgs, and on account of the pain that Again, it is harder to fight against pleasure than anger , to use
. . ence we ought to h b Beraditus' phrase,* but both art and virtue are always concerned
up ma particular way from our ver ave een brought
to delight in and to be pained b ~hyo~?, as Plato says, I so as both with what is harder; for even the good is better when it is harder. ro
the right education. y e t mgs that we ought; this is Therefore for this reason also the whole concern both of virtue and
of political science is with pleasures and pains; for the man who
A gam,
. i"f the virtues are concerned wi h .
and every passion and eve . . t actions and passions * uses these well will be good , he who uses them badly bad.
. ry act10n 1s accomp · db ' That virtue, then, is concerned with pleasures and pains, and that
r5 pam, for this reason also virtue will be ame y _pleasure and
and pains. This is indicated al b concerned with pleasures by the acts from which it arises it is both increased and, if they are rs
inflicted by these means· •or .t . so k_Y dthe fact that punishment is done differently, destroyed, and that the acts from which it arose
, l' I is a m of cure d. . h
of cures to be effected b . , an It is t e nature are those in which it actualizes itself-let this be taken as said .
. Y contranes.*
Agam, as we said but lately ever
tive to and concerned with th' k" J
s~ate _of soul has a nature rela-
An ofjection to the view that one acquires virtues by doing
virtuous acts; and a reply: the conditions needed to possess
20 be made worse or better b t ~ . mb o thmgs by which it tends to
, u It is Y reason ofpl d virJue and act from it
t h at men become bad b . easures an pains
' y pursumg and avoid . h . 4. The question might be asked, what we mean by saying1 that we
P1easures and pains the h mg t ese-e1ther the
y oug t not or when th h rnust become just by doing just acts, and temperate by doing tem-
t h ey ought not or by go· . ey oug t not or as
' mg wrong m one ofth h · · perate acts; for if men do just and temperate acts, they are already 20
t h at may be distinguish d H e ot er s1m1lar ways
e - ence men ev d fi just and temperate, exactly as, if they do wha\ is grammatical or
25 certain states of impassi "t d . _en e ne the virtues as
b v1 y an tranqmlhty·* t 11 h musical, they are grammarians and musicians. ·
ecause they speak absolute! and d ', no we ' owever, Or is this not true even of the arts?* It is possible to do something
one ought not' and ' h Y, o not say as one ought' and 'as
. w en one ought or ought ' grammatical, either by chance or under the guidance of another. A
th mgs that may be added W not ' and the other
tends to do what is best ,;-the ass:me, then, that this kind of virtue man will be a grammarian, then, only when he has both done some-
does the contrary. I regar to pleasures and pains, and vice thing grammatical and done it grammatically; and this means doing 25
it in accordance with the grammatical knowledge in himself.
The following facts also ma show . . Again, the case of the arts and that of the virtues are not similar;
30 concerned with these same th. y Th us _that v1rtue and vice are
and three of avoidance the mgbsl. here bemg three objects of choice for the products of the arts have their goodness in themselve_s, so
d h . , no e, t e advantageo h 1 that it is enough that they should have a certain character, but if
an t e1r contraries the base th . . . us, t e p easant,
these the good man,tend t ' ~ inhiunous, the painful, about all of the acts that are in accordance with the virtues have themselves a
s O go ng t and the b d certain character it does not follow that they are done justly or
an d especially
• about pleasure·, fo r th"1s 1s
. common
a mant toth go wrong,
· temperately.* The agent also must be in a certain condition when 30
35 an d a1so it accompanies all ob·ects f . o e ammals, he does them; in the first place he must have knowledge, secondly
rro5a the advantageous appear plea:ant. o chmce; for even the noble and
he must choose the acts, and choose them for their own sakes, and

i Laws, 653 A ff., Rep . 4or E- 402 A .

 28 THE NICOMACHEAN ETHICS II .5 pg. 51

tl,icdly bis action must pcocccd from , fi,m and unch,ngeahle cha. HEA N ETHICS II.6 29
THE N I COMAC . nd because we
II05b acre.. These "'e not •eckoned in as condition, of the posse.s,i of . d our vices, a
00 ound of our virtues an . (for the man who
the m,, except the bace knowledge; hut " , amdition of <he Pos. .. ,]led on the g; d noC blamed foe oue p,ssmos ho simply feels
se,;sion of the victue,; knowledge ha.s little o; no weight,' while the ,, . ha pnuse d ' is the man w no6,
are ne1t . ger is not praise ' no. . t in way), but for our
otl,ee conditions count not foe , little but foe everything, i.e. th, feels fear OI danb t the man who feels 1t ma cerda
very conditions which result from often doing just and temperate blame , u · d or blame • .
acts. anger d vices we are praise . h . e but the virtues
5 an our r ithout c o1c ' h
virtues
A ain we feel anger• andI iearhoice w * F ther in respect of t e
Action,, then, a,e called iusr and tempernte when they aec su,c · ur ' • d -
g odes' of choice or mvo ve dc but ·.m respec t of the virtues an :,
as the just or the temperate man would do;* but it is not the nian
who does these that is just and temperate, but the man who also
are
p i:i1 we are said.d tonotbetomove
assrons ' d but to be disposed in a par-
be move
. we are sai
doe, them a, inst and tempc,,te·men do them. It is well said, th,n,
rhe vices . . for we are neither
that it is by doing inst acts that the inst m,n is P•odueed, md by Iar way. h e not capacztzes, .t
ncu h e rDasons also t ey ar d for the simple capac1 y
ro doing temperate acts the temperate man; without doing these no
Foe t,,,'.~ o; b,d, no; p,o;,ed oe bl":':e ;.p,cities by natiffe, but
one would have even a prospect of becoming good.
But most people do not do these, but take refuge in theory and
';';::li;g the passions; ,gai;,
o t made good or a
dw~:~,:uce; we hm spoken of th,s rn

think they are being philosophers and will become good in this we are 1no • · all that
15 way, behaving somewhat like patients who listen attentively to their before. . are neither pass10ns
• n or capac1t1es,
doctors, but do none of the things they are ordered to do. As the If then, the virtues tates of character.*
latter will not be made well in body by such a course of treatment, the rem~ins is that they shdoul:a~::rtue is in respect of its genus.
fo,me; will not be made well il, soul by such , courne of philosophy Thus we have state w . . . disposition to choose the
r1ie differe,ntia OJ,rm01'alk.virtue. zt zs a
d ,;z.ntermediate . . hed
distznguzs
I, , . ' Two zn s OJ f h c
DEFINITION OF MORAL VIRTUE 'intermediate . .b virtue as a state o c ara -
The g,nu, ofm,raf mrtue, ,ii, a state of eha,acte,, nat a pa,"'"• e must however, no t only descn. . eWe may remark, t h en, that 15
nor a capacity 6. W , whot sort of ,tote " "· .
ter but also say * both brings mto good 'cond;tion
h h' g
the
' virtue or excellence kes the work of t at t m
5. Next we must consider what virtue is. Since things that are
;;;~: of which it is the excellence ;~~ei:;e makes both the eye anlld
20 found in the soul are of three kinds-passions, capacities, states of the excellence o h t we see we .
character-virtue must be one of these.* By passions I mean appe- be done well; e.g . .. by the melleoee of the eye t \ th good in
its woek good; forn " b ho,~ mokes a hocse o .. '"
tite, ange,, fe,,, confidence, en,y, joy, friendly feeling, lut,·ed, long.
Simihuly the excellene.e of t de ot em)"ng ;,, eidec and ot awa,t;~:
ing, emulation, pity, and in genera] the feelings that are accompanied
by pleasure or pain; by capacities the things in virtue of which we itself and good ot rnnom.;.~:cefo.e, ;f this is trne in me'ic~:':;,,,o
the attack of the ene~y. h t te of character which ma
2
are said to be capable of feeling these, e.g. of becoming angry or I o will be t e s a II .
5 being pained or feeling pity; by states of character the things in
vietue of maa " . d J,' own woek we . . d
d and which makes him o is d already z but it will be ma e
rinoe of which we stond well o; badly with ecfr.enc~ to the passions, gooHow this is to happen we have .state ion of the ' spec1.fi c na t u re. of 25
e.g. with reference to anger we stand badly if we feel it violently or
pfain also by the following cons:!:::, sod divisible it.is poss,bl;
too weakly, and well if we feel it in an intermediate way;* and
similarly with reference to the other passions. . tue In everythmg that is con t and that either m terms o
virtake· more, less, or ~n equal amoun
to , equal is an mterm
. and the · ediate
Now neither the virtues nor the vices are passions, because we are . itse
the thmg . If or relatively to us,
30 not called good or bad on the ground of our passions, but are so
, rro 3a18-b2.
 3I
EAN ET Hl CS 11.6
T HE N ! COMAC H (for evil belongs topg. 52
30 THE NICOMACHEAN ETHICS II.6
. ·1 is possible to fail in man~aw:::ans con jectured, and 30
between excess and defect. By the intermediate in the object ! llleai :, ·. Again, If the unlimited, as ~he Pyt ged is possible only in one
n ,.
30 that which is equidistant from each of the extremes, which is on .:"" rhe classhot of the limited), while.to succe d the other difficult-
and the same for all; by the intermediate relatively to us that whic~ ;t rot a . · h -eason al so One is easy an
good f . whJC 1 \ c these reasons a s ,
. · d"fficu1tf tor
l o
f
is neither too much nor too little*-and this is not one, nor the . -~~~: w_ay ~ oi -h mark easy' to hit it 1 .· . ~f vice and the mean o
same for all.* For instance, if ten is many and two is few, six is the l to flllSS L e d defect are charactenst1c '
intermediate, taken in terms of the object; for it exceeds and is \1.1 excess an
rheil, 35
exceeded by an equal amount; this is intermediate according 10 ' . virtue; ay but bad in many.
. d in but one w ' .
35 arithmetical proportion. But the intermediate relatively to us is not for rnen are goo erned with choice,
to be taken so; if ten pounds is too m uch for a particular person to is a state of character cone h. being deter- i io7a
106b eat and two too little, it does not follow that the trainer will order Virtue, then, . the mean relative to us, t is f practi-
b which the man °
I
. • a mean, 1.e.
six pounds; for this also is perhaps too much for the person who is \y!Ilg lil and by that reason y. . n between two
to take it, or too little-too little for Milo, too much for the beginner . d by reason, . . * Now it is a mea
rn1ne Id determme it. h. h depends on
in athletic exercises.* The same is true of running and wrestling. 1 ·sdom wou and that w JC
c~ w1 that which depends on excess the vices respectivel~ fall
5 Thus a master of any art avoids excess and defect, but seeks the vices, . and again it is a mean_ bec~use ih assions and actions,
intermediate and chooses this-the intermediate not in the object defe~t, f xceed what is nght m bo Ph. h is intermediate. 5
but relatively to us.* h ·t o or e h es that w ic .
s o_r .rtue both finds and c ~os d finition which states its
If it is thus, then, that every art does its work well- by looking

I'
;;:!:ev;n respect of what it_ i~, 1~:~:1~0 :hat is best and right an
to the intermediate and judging its works by this standard (so e virtue is a mean, wit r
rn that we often say of good works of art that it is not possible either essenc, · for
. dmits of a mean,
to take away or to add anything, implying that excess and defect ex~~:ot every action nor e:ery p;:~~;s:, e.g. spite, shameless- ro
destroy the goodness of works of art, while the mean preserves e have names that already i~ply dultery theft, murder; for all
it;* and good artists, as we say, look to this in their work), and if, som and in the case of actions a . ' names that they are
further, virtue is more exact and better than any art, as nature also n;s;h::ev~~d suchlike things imply by :~:~ciencies of them. It is
rs is, then virtue must have the quality of aiming at the intermediate. o d * d not the excesses o h . ne must rs
I mean moral virtue; for it is this that is concerned with passions themselves ba ' an . ht with regard to t em, o
not possible, then, ever to be ri ess or badness with regard to sut
and actions, and in these there is excess, defect, and the intermedi-
always be wrong. Nor d~es_ goo d:ltery with the right woman, a~ t e
ate. For instance, both fear and confidence and appetite and anger
things depend on com~1ttmg a but simply to do any of them is ~o
and pity and in general pleasure and pain may be felt both too . ht time and in the nght way, b d then to expect that m
20 much and too little, and in both cases not well; but to feel them at
;~ wrong'. It would be e~u;~{g:U/::ti~n the;e should be a mean, 20
the right times, with reference to the right objects, towards the
unjust, cowardly, and .self-1~ t t that rate there would be_a meanf
right people, with the right motive, and in the right way, is what is
an excess, and a defic~ency' or a ess of excess, and a deficiency o
both intermediate and best, and this is characteristic of virtue.*
f excess and of deficiency, an exc d deficiency of temperance
Similarly with regard to actions also there is excess, defect, and the o h . no excess an me
deficiency. But as t ere ~s .. termediate is in a sense an extre '
25 intermediate. Now virtue is concerned with passions and actions,
and courage* because w at is m ~ioned there is no mean nor any
in which excess is a form of failure, and so is defect, while the
so too of the actions we have mem they are done they are wrong;
intermediate is praised and is a form of success; and being praised
excess and deficiency, b~t howeveran of excess and deficiency, nor 25
and being successful are both characteristics of virtue. Therefore . 1 there is neither a me
virtue is a kind of mean, since, as we have seen, it aims at what is form genera
. d deficiency of a mean. '
intermediate. excess an
 32 THE NICO MACHEAN ETHIC S II. 7
The above proposition illustrated by reference to particular virtues
7- We must, however, not only make this general statement b
also apply it to the individual facts. For among statements a'bo Ut
30 conduct those which are general apply more widely but those wh· uht
· 1 ' lC
are part1cu ar are more true, since conduct has to do with individual
cases, and our statements must harmonize with the facts in these
~ases. We may take these cases from our table.* With regard to feel-
rro7b mgs of fear and confidence courage is the mean; of the people who
exceed, he who exceeds in fearlessness has no name (many of the
states have no name), while the man who exceeds in confidence is
rash, and he who exceeds'in fear and falls short in confidence is
coward. With regard to pleasures and pains-not all of them a da
s not so much wit . h regard to the pains-the mean is temperance' th n
excess self-indulgence. Persons deficient with regard to the pleas~
ures are not often found; hence such persons also have received no
name. But let us call them 'insensible'.*
With regard to giving and taking of money the mean is liberality
IO the excess and the defect prodigality and meanness. In these action;
?eople e~ceed and fall short in contrary ways; the prodigal exceeds
~n spe~dmg and falls short in taking, while the mean man exceeds
m takmg ~nd falls short in spending. (At present we are giving a
mere ou_tlme or summary, and are satisfied with this; later these
rs states will be more e~actly_ ?etermined.) 1 With regard to money
there _are also oth~r d1spos1t10ns-a mean, magnificence (for the
magmficent man differs from the liberal man; the former deals with
large s_ums, the latter with small ones), an excess, tastelessness and
20 vulganty, and a deficiency, niggardliness; these differ from the states
opposed to liberality, and the mode of their difference will be stated
later. 2
With re~ard to honour and dishonour the mean is proper pride,
~he excess 1s ~~own as a sort of 'empty vanity', and the deficiency
is undue_ hui:11hty; an~ as we said liberality was related to magnifi-
25 cence,. di_ffermg from It by dealing with small sums, so there is a
state similarly related to proper pride, being concerned with small
ho~ours while that is concerned with great. For it is possible to
desll"e honour as one ought, and more than one ought, and less and
the man who exceeds in his desires is called ambitious, the 'man
l IV. I. 2
r r22a20-29, bro-18.
pg. 53
THE NICOMACHEA N ETHICS II. 7 33
who falls short unambitious, while the intermediate_ person has ~o
name. The dispositions also . are
. nameless, except that that of the 30
ambitious man is called amb1t10n . Hence the people who are at the
extremes lay claim to the middle place; and we ou_rselves som~t'.mes
]] the intermediate person ambitious and sometimes unamb1t10us,
~ . h
d sometimes praise the ambitious man and sometimes t e unam-
~~tious. The reason of our doing this will be stated in wh~t follows; 1 rIOSa
but now let us speak of the remaining states accordmg to the
method which has been indicated.
With regard to anger also there is an excess, a deficiency, and a
mean. Although they can scarcely be said to have names, yet since s
we call the intermediate person good-tempered let us call the mean
good temper; of the persons at the extremes let the one who exceeds
be called irascible, and his vice irascibility, and the man who falls
short an unirascible sort of person, and the deficiency unirascibility.
There are also three other means, which have a certain likeness to IO
one another, but differ from one another: for they are all concerned
with intercourse in words and actions, but differ in that one is con,..
cerned with truth in this sphere, the other two with pleasantness;
and of this one kind is exhibited in giving amusement, the other in
all the ci;cumstances of life. We must therefore speak of these too,
that we may the better see that in all things the mean is praise- rs
worthy, and the extremes neither praiseworthy nor right, but worthy
of blame. Now most of these states also have no names, but we must
try, as in the other cases, to invent names ourselvei so that we may
be clear and easy to follow. With regard to truth, then, the inter-
mediate is a truthful sort of person and the mean may be called truth- 20
fulness, while the pretence which exaggerates is boastfulness and the
person characterized by it a boaster, and that which understates is
mock modesty and the person characterized by it mock-modest.*
With regard to pleasantness in the giving of amusement the inter-
mediate person is ready-witted and the disposition ready wit, the
excess is buffoonery and the person characterized by it a buffoon, 25
while the man who falls short is a sort of boor and his state is boor-
ishness. With regard to the remaining kind of pleasantness, that which
is exhibited in life in general, the man who is pleasant in the right
way is friendly and the mean is friendliness, while the man who
exceeds is an obsequious person if he has no end in view, a flatterer
1 brr-26, II25br4-18.
 34 THE NICOMACHEAN ETHIC S II. 8
if he is aiming at his own advantage, and the man who faJJs short
30 and is unpleasant in all circumstances is a quarrelsome and surly
sort of person.
There are also means in the passions and concerned with the
passions; since shame is not a vir tue, and yet praise is extended to
the modest man. For even in these matters one man is said to be
intermediate, and another to exceed, as for instance the bashful
man who is ashamed of everything; while he who falls short or is
35 not ashamed of anything at all is shameless, and the intermediate
person_ is modest. Righteous indignation is a mean between envy
1 ro8b and spite, and these states arc concerned with the pain and pleasure
that are felt at the fortunes of our neighbours; the man who is char-
acterized by righteous indignation is pained at undeserved good
fortune, the envious man, going beyond him, is pained at all good
5 fortune, and the spiteful man falls so far short of being pained that
he even rejoices.* But these states there will be an opportunity of
describing elsewhere; with regard to justice, since it has not one
simple meaning, we shall, after describing the other states, distin-
guish its two kinds and say how each of them is a mean;1 and similarly
ro we shall treat also of the rational virtues. 2
CHARA CTERI STI CS O F THE EXTREME AND MEA N
STATE S: PRA CTICAL CO ROLLARIE S
The extremes are opposed to each other and to the mean
8. T here are three kinds of disposition then two of them vices
involving excess and deficiency respe;tively: and one a virtue:
namely, the mean, and all are in a sense opposed to all; for the
extreme states are contrary both to the intermediate state and to
1
5 each other, and the intermediate to the extremes; as the equal is
gr~ater relatively to the less, less relatively to the greater, so the
middle states are excessive relatively to the deficiencies, deficient
relatively to the excesses, both in passions and in actions. For the
brave man appears rash relatively to the coward, and cowardly rela-
20 tively to the rash man; and similarly the temperate man appears
self-indulgent relatively to the insensible man, insensible relatively
to the self-indulgent, and the liberal man prodigal relatively to the
: II 29a26--b1, r r3oar4-b5, IIJ r bg--r 5, r 132a24-30, rr33b30--rr34ar
- Bk. VI.
pg. 54
THE NICOMACHEAN ETHIC S II.9 35
n mean relatively to the prodigal. Hence also the people
me: m;r~~es push.the intermediate man each over to the other,
at~ ;h: brave man is called rash by the coward, cowardly by the 2 5
an h man, and correspondingly in the other cases.
rasT hese states being thus opposed to one another, the greatest
. ·ety is that of the extremes to each other, rather than to the
contian h h f th
·ntermediate; for these are further from each ot er t an rom e
1
interme• di"ate , as the great is further from the small· and the
h ·small
.
f· the great than both are from the equal. Agam, to t e mte1- 30
10
; te some extremes show a certain likeness, as that of rashness
me iaurage and that of prodigality to liberality; but the extremes
wro · .
h w the greatest unlikeness to each other; now contranes are
~e~ned as the things that are furthest from each other, so that
h . s that are further apart are more contrary.
t mgTo the intermediate in some cases the d efi cien~y,· · som e the r roga
'.n
excess, is more opposed;* e.g. it is not r~shness, which is an excess,
but cowardice, which is a deficiency, that is more o~posed to coura~e,
and not insensibility, which is a deficiency, but self-m~ulgence, which
· an excess that is more opposed to temperance. This happens from
~~o reason;, one being drawn from the thin_g itself; for because o~e 5
extreme is nearer and liker to the intermediate, we oppos_e not this
but rather its contrary to the intermediate. For example, smce ra~h-
ness is thought more like and nearer to courage, and c~wardice
more unlike, we oppose rather the latter to courage; £;or thmgs th_at ro
e fur ther from the intermediate are thought more contrary to 1~.
~his, then, is one cause, drawn from the ~hing itself; another 1s
drawn from ourselves; for the things to which we oursel~es more
naturally tend seem more contrary to the intermediate. For mstance,
we ourselves tend more naturally to pleasures, and hence are ~ore 1 5
easily carried away towards self-indulgence than towards p:opn_ety .
We describe as contrary to the mean, then, rather the direct10ns
in which we more often go to great lengths; and therefore self-
indulgence, which is an excess, is the more contrary to temperance.
The mean is hard to attain, and is grasped by perception, not by
reasoning
9. That moral virtue is a mean, then, and in w_hat se~se it is so, and 20
that it is a mean between two vices, the one mvolvmg ex~ess, t_h e
other deficiency, and that it is such because its character 1s to aim
 T HE NI C OMA C H EA N ET HICS II. 9 37 pg. 55
36 T H E NI C OMACHEAN ETH I CS II.9
at what is in termediate in passions and in actions, has been suffi_ . asoning any more than anything else that is perceived by the
by1e , d ..
ciently stated. H ence also it is no easy task to be good. F or in every- . such things depend on particular fac ts, and the ecisIOn
sense S, . . • · . ct·
"'I.th perception.* So much then, IS plam, thaL the mte1me I-
25 thing it is no easy task to find the middle, e.g. to find the middle of rests " ' . . r
a circle is not for everyone but for him who knows; so, too, anyone ate state is in all things to be praised, but that we must 1?c me
imes towards the excess sometimes towards the deficiency; 2 5
can get angry-that is easy-or give or spend money; but to do this sorne t ' . . . . h
to the right person, to the right extent, at the right time, with the for so shall we most easily hit the intermediate and what IS ng t._ £
right motive, and in the right way, that is not for everyone, nor is it
easy; wherefore goodness is both rare and laudable and noble .
30 H ence he who aims at the intermediate must first depart from
what is the more contrary to it, as Calypso advises-
Hold the ship out beyond that surf and spray*
F or of the extremes one is more erroneous, one less so; therefore,
since to hit the intermediate is hard in the extreme, we must as a
35 second best, as people say, take the least of the evils; and this will
1109b be done best in the way we describe.
But we must consider the things towards which we ourselves also
are easily carried away; for some of us tend to one thing, some to
another;* and this will be recognizable from the pleasure and the
pain we feel. We must drag ourselves away to the contrary extreme;
5 for we shall get into the intermediate state by drawing well away
from error, as people do in straightening sticks that are bent.
Now in everything the pleasant or pleasure is most to be guarded
against; for we do not judge it impartially. We ought, then, to feel
towards pleasure as the elders of the people felt towards H elen, and
ro in all circumstances repeat their saying; 1 for if we dismiss pleasure
thus we are less likely to go astray. It is by doing this, then, (to sum
the matter up) that we shall best be able to hit the intermediate.
But this is no doubt difficult, and especially in individual cases;
15 for it is not easy to determine both how and with whom and on what
provocation and how long one should be angry; for we too some-
times praise those who fall short and call them good-tempered, but
sometimes we praise those who get angry and call them manly.
The man, however, who deviates little from goodness is not
blamed, whether he do so in the direction of the more or of the less,
but only the man who deviates more widely; for he does not fail to
20 be noticed. But up to what point and to what extent a man must

deviate before he becomes blameworthy it is not easy to determine

1 Iliad iii. r 56-60.
 pg. 56

Notes on Reading the Nicomachean Ethics:

Aristotle’s Theory of a Good Life
Dr. Penelope Davies 1

1. Life.

Born in Stagira, (now northern Greece) about 384 B.C.E. His father was a physician in the
royal court. When 17 he went to Athens and joined Plato’s academy. (Plato, a student and
follower of Socrates.)

Aristotle was tutor to Alexander the Great when Alexander was 13-19. Aristotle returned to
Athens and founded his own school around 335 B.C.E. There were political troubles so he
fled to his birthplace and died there 322 B.C.E.

Wrote widely on many subjects including astronomy, biology, ethics, logic, mathematics,
physics, politics, poetry and rhetoric.

2. The Nicomachean Ethics

Text: The Works of Aristotle vol. 9. W. D. Ross (editor)

References: Book number, chapter number. Also standard referencing including line number.

Aristotle’s purpose: to uncover the truth concerning how man should live his life so that he
could achieve lasting happiness.

• Practical guide
• Teach us to be virtuous
• Not meant to be an exploration of what virtue is

3. His Terminology and Approach

Terms
Virtue (arete) similar to excellence
-not limited to people.
-tied up to the idea of function.

If a person, animal or object performs its function properly “with excellence” then it shows
virtue.
• A disposition to behave in the right way.
• A habitual way of acting
• Not an emotion or a capacity.

1
Dr Penelope Davies teaches in the Philosophy Program, School of Communication, Arts & Critical Enquiry,
La Trobe University. These notes are re-formatted from her lecture notes presented at the VAPS Philosophy
Forum 2006, and made available at the VAPS website: http://vaps.vic.edu.au/vceresource/vceresources.htm
 pg. 57

Activity -This is in contrast to a disposition.

Eudaimonia (Happiness) “living well” with success and fulfilment.

Methodology
An empiricist: looked at the way things are in the world. Contrast with Plato: a rationalist.
• Consider a number of possible answers
• Discard those he finds unsatisfactory

4. Aristotle’s view of The Good

What is the goal that people usually pursue?

Answer: the good

Goals that have intrinsic value:

Those that we value and desire for their own sake.

Goals that have instrumental value:

Those that we desire and value as a means to achieving something else.

Assumptions

• All our actions aim at some end or good,

• That our ends form a hierarchy,
• There is one ultimate end: chief good.

“What is the highest good achievable by action?” [Bk. 1. Ch 4. 1095a 14]

All people want eudemonia.

But…..
sometimes they get it wrong

Views depend on whom you ask. People’s circumstances make a difference

Some answers:

Health and wealth? No because they are desired not for themselves
Honour? No because it is subject to the whims of others.
The ultimate good should be self-sufficient.

What type of life do people think would be good?

i) A life of pleasure?
No, because it is a life suitable for beasts and does not always lead to happiness.

ii) A life of politics and honours?

No, because too superficial, and dependent on the whim of others.
 pg. 58

iii) A life of contemplation?

Yes.

Positive view of the good

What is eudaimonia?

P1. It must be an end in itself.

P2. It must be self-sufficient.
P3. It must be attainable.
P4. Happiness alone satisfies these conditions

C. Happiness alone is our highest good.

5. How do you achieve this happiness?

The good is intimately connected with function.

To live well as a human being means….
to fulfil your human functions well.

What is a human’s function? i.e.

What is it that is distinctly human?

1. The life of nutrition and growth?

NO: Because we share that with plants and animals.

2. The life of perception?

NO: Because we share that with animals.

The one thing that is distinctively human is:

The life of reason.

To be a good human we must do it well.

People’s function is to use reason and to use it well.
Thus our highest good (happiness) must involve reason.
Our happiness consists in the excellent use of reason -- in virtue.
And it takes time.

6. Theory checked against experience:

(How does experience support the theory that ‘our highest good involves reason’?)
• The goods pertaining to the soul are the finest of goods.
• “A happy man lives well and does well”
• Agrees with those who identify happiness with virtue.
But: a man needs external goods as well to perform virtuous and noble acts. Other goods are
necessary for a happy life.
E.g. good birth, fine children prosperity.
 pg. 59

Happiness comes as a result of learning or training

Happiness is not a state—but is an activity
Happiness is self-sufficient activity, chosen for itself.
Happiness doesn’t lie in mere amusement

[A section on Theoria (contemplation) being the best life because it produces the most
complete happiness has been deleted, as it is not part of the prescribed reading.]

Objections to the claims in Book I:

1. “The good is the goal that people generally pursue.”

A. Many do not pursue the good.

B. There may not be a single goal that is good, but several.

(He judges some superior to others.)

2. “The good must be self-sufficient, i.e. something we can maintain, so happiness not based
on honour, but on virtue”

Virtue does not guarantee happiness: luck is also needed.

3. “The good is eudaimonia and people seek it for their whole life.”

How much happiness do we seek?

Don’t we sometimes seek other goals for their own sake, e.g. Wisdom?

4. Naturalistic fallacy;
What is desired [the good] is not necessarily desirable (because people desire the bad)

Aristotle’s final word:

Humans, unlike Gods, need virtues and other goods to enjoy life, as well as the experience of
contemplation. But you do not need many such goods to be happy.
 pg. 60

Friedrich Nietzsche
Beyond Good and Evil
Trans. R.J. Hollingdale

Part Five: On the Natural History of Morals

199

Inasmuch as ever since there have been human beings there have also been human herds (family
groups, communities, tribes, nations, states, churches), and always very many who obey compared
with the very small number of those who command - considering, that is to say, that hitherto nothing
has been practised and cultivated among men better or longer than obedience, it is fair to suppose that
as a rule a need for it is by now innate as a kind of formal conscience which commands: 'thou shalt
unconditionally do this, unconditionally not do that, in short 'thou shalt'. This need seeks to be
satisfied and to fill out its form with a content; in doing so it grasps about wildly, according to the
degree of its strength, impatience and tension, with little discrimination, as a crude appetite, and
accepts whatever any commander - parent, teacher, law, class, prejudice, public opinion - shouts in its
ears.

The strange narrowness of human evolution, its hesitations, its delays, its frequent retrogressions and
rotations, are due to the fact that the herd instinct of obedience has been inherited best and at the
expense of the art of commanding. If we think of this instinct taken to its ultimate extravagance there
would be no commanders or independent men at all; or, if they existed, they would suffer from a bad
conscience and in order to be able to command would have to practise a deceit upon themselves: the
deceit, that is, that they too were only obeying.

This state of things actually exists in Europe today: I call it the moral hypocrisy of the commanders.
They know no way of defending themselves against their bad conscience other than to pose as
executors of more ancient or higher commands (commands of ancestors, of the constitution, of justice,
of the law or even of God), or even to borrow herd maxims from the herd's way of thinking and
appear as 'the first servant of the people' for example, or as 'instruments of the common
good'. On the other hand, the herd-man in Europe today makes himself out to be the only permissible
kind of man and glorifies the qualities through which he is tame, peaceable and useful to the herd as
the real human virtues: namely public spirit, benevolence, consideration, industriousness, moderation,
modesty, forbearance, pity. In those cases, however, in which leaders and bell-wethers are thought to
be indispensable, there is attempt after attempt to substitute for them an adding-together of clever
herd-men: this, for example, is the origin of all parliamentary constitutions.

All this notwithstanding, what a blessing, what a release from a burden becoming intolerable, the
appearance of an unconditional commander is for this herd-animal European, the effect produced by
the appearance of Napoleon is the latest great witness – the history of the effect of Napoleon is almost
the history of the higher happiness this entire century has attained in its most valuable men and
moments.

201

So long as the utility which dominates moral value-judgements is solely that which is useful to the
herd, so long as the object is solely the preservation of the community and the immoral is sought
precisely and exclusively in that which seems to imperil the existence of the community: so long as
 pg. 61

that is the case there can be no 'morality of love of one's neighbour'.

Supposing that even there a constant little exercise of consideration, pity, fairness, mildness, mutual
aid was practised, supposing that even at that stage of society all those drives are active which are
later honourably designated 'virtues' and are finally practically equated with the concept 'morality': in
that era they do not yet by any means belong to the domain of moral valuations - they are still extra-
moral. An act of pity, for example, was during the finest age of Rome considered neither good nor
bad, neither moral nor immoral; and even if it was commended, this commendation was entirely
compatible with a kind of involuntary disdain, as soon, that is, as it was set beside any action which
served the welfare of the whole, of the res publica 1.

Ultimately 'love of one's neighbour' is always something secondary, in part conventional and
arbitrarily illusory, when compared with fear of one’s neighbour. Once the structure of society seems
to have been in general fixed and made safe from external dangers, it is this fear of one's neighbour
which again creates new perspectives of moral valuation. There are certain strong and dangerous
drives, such as enterprisingness, foolhardiness, revengefulness, craft, rapacity, ambition, which
hitherto had not only to be honoured from the point of view of their social utility – under different
names, naturally, from those chosen here - but also mightily developed and cultivated (because they
were constantly needed to protect the community as a whole against the enemies of the community as
a whole); these drives are now felt to be doubly dangerous - now that the diversionary outlets for them
are lacking - and are gradually branded as immoral and given over to calumny. The antithetical drives
and inclinations now come into moral honour; step by step the herd instinct draws its conclusions.
How much or how little that is dangerous to the community, dangerous to equality, resides in an
opinion, in a condition or emotion, in a will, in a talent, that is now the moral perspective: here again
fear is the mother of morality.

When the highest and strongest drives, breaking passionately out, carry the individual far above and
beyond the average and lowlands of the herd conscience, the self-confidence of the community goes
to pieces, its faith in itself, its spine as it were, is broken: consequently it is precisely these drives
which are most branded and calumniated. Lofty spiritual independence, the will to stand alone, great
intelligence even, are felt to be dangerous; everything that raises the individual above the herd and
makes his neighbour quail is henceforth called evil; the fair, modest, obedient, self-effacing
disposition, the mean and average in desires, acquires moral names and honours. Eventually, under
very peaceful conditions, there is less and less occasion or need to educate one's feelings in severity
and sternness; and now every kind of severity, even severity in justice, begins to trouble the
conscience; a stern and lofty nobility and self-responsibility is received almost as an offence and
awakens mistrust, 'the lamb', even more 'the sheep', is held in higher and higher respect.

There comes a point of morbid mellowing and over-tenderness in the history of society at which it
takes the side even of him who harms it, the criminal, and does so honestly and wholeheartedly.
Punishment: that seems to it somehow unfair - certainly the idea of 'being punished' and 'having to
punish' is unpleasant to it, makes it afraid. 'Is it not enough to render him harmless? why punish him
as well? To administer punishment is itself dreadful!' - with this question herd morality, the morality
of timidity, draws its ultimate conclusion. Supposing all danger, the cause of fear, could be abolished,
this morality would therewith also be abolished: it would no longer be necessary, it would no longer
regard itself as necessary! - He who examines the conscience of the present-day European will have
to extract from a thousand moral recesses and hiding-places always the same imperative, the
imperative of herd timidity: 'we wish that there will one day no longer be anything to fear!' One day -
everywhere in Europe the will and way to that day is now called 'progress'.

1 Latin, ‘public affair’

 pg. 62

203

We, who have a different faith - we, to whom the democratic movement is not merely a form assumed
by political organization in decay but also a form assumed by man. in decay, that is to say in
diminishment, in process of becoming mediocre and losing his value: whither must we direct our
hopes? – Towards new philosophers, we have no other choice; towards spirits strong and original
enough to make a start on antithetical evaluations and to revalue and reverse 'eternal values'; towards
heralds and forerunners, towards men of the future who in the present knot together the constraint
which compels the will of millennia on to new paths. To teach man the future of man as his will, as
dependent on a human will, and to prepare for great enterprises and collective experiments in
discipline and breeding so as to make an end of that gruesome dominion of chance and nonsense that
has hitherto been called 'history' - the nonsense of the 'greatest number' is only its latest form -: for
that a new kind of philosopher and commander will some time be needed, in face of whom whatever
has existed on earth of hidden, dreadful and benevolent spirits may well look pale and dwarfed. It is
the image of such leaders which hovers before our eyes - may I say that aloud, you free spirits?

The circumstances one would have in part to create, in part to employ, to bring them into existence;
the conjectural paths and tests by virtue of which a soul could grow to such height and power it would
feel compelled to these tasks; a revaluation of values under whose novel pressure and hammer a
conscience would be steeled, a heart transformed to brass, so that it might endure the weight of such a
responsibility; on the other hand, the need for such leaders, the terrible danger they might not appear
or might fail or might degenerate – these are our proper cares and concerns, do you know that, you
free spirits? These are the heavy, remote thoughts and thunder clouds that pass across our life's sky.

There are few more grievous pains than once to have beheld, divined, sensed, how an extraordinary
man missed his way and degenerated: but he who has the rare eye for the collective danger that 'man'
himself may degenerate, he who, like us, has recognized the tremendous fortuitousness which has
hitherto played its game with the future of man - a game in which no hand, not even a 'finger of God'
took any part! - he who has divined the fatality that lies concealed in the idiotic guilelessness and
blind confidence of 'modern ideas', even more in the whole of Christian-European morality: he suffers
from a feeling of anxiety with which no other can be compared - for he comprehends in a single
glance all that which, given a favourable accumulation and intensification of forces and tasks, could
be cultivated out of man, he knows with all the knowledge of his conscience how the greatest
possibilities in man are still unexhausted and how often before the type man has been faced with
strange decisions and new paths - he knows even better from his most painful memories against what
wretched things an evolving being of the highest rank has hitherto usually been shattered and has
broken off, sunk and has itself become wretched.

The collective degeneration of man down to that which the socialist dolts and blockheads today see as
their 'man of the future' - as their ideal! - this degeneration and diminution of man to the perfect herd
animal (or, as they say, to the man of the 'free society'), this animalization of man to the pygmy
animal of equal rights and equal pretensions is possible, there is no doubt about that! He who has once
thought this possibility through to the end knows one more kind of disgust than other men do - and
perhaps also a new task ...

Part Six: We Scholars

225

Whether it be hedonism or pessimism or utilitarianism or eudaemonism: all these modes of thought

which assess the value of things according to pleasure and pain, that is to say according to attendant
 pg. 63

and secondary phenomena, are foreground modes of thought and naiveties which anyone conscious of
creative powers and an artist's conscience will look down on with derision, though not without pity.

Pity for you! That, to be sure, is not pity for social 'distress', for 'society' and its sick and unfortunate,
for the vicious and broken from the start who lie all around us; even less is it pity for the grumbling,
oppressed, rebellious slave classes who aspire after domination - they call it 'freedom'. Our pity is a
more elevated, more farsighted pity - we see how man is diminishing himself, how you are
diminishing him! - and there are times when we behold your pity with an indescribable anxiety, when
we defend ourselves against this pity - when we find your seriousness more dangerous than any kind
of frivolity. You want if possible - and there is no madder 'if possible' – to abolish suffering; and we?
- it really does seem that we would rather increase it and make it worse than it has ever been!
Wellbeing as you understand it - that is no goal, that seems to us an end! A state which soon renders
man ludicrous and contemptible - which makes it desirable that he should perish!

The discipline of suffering, of great suffering - do you not know that it is this discipline alone which
has created every elevation of mankind hitherto? That tension of the soul in misfortune which
cultivates its strength, its terror at the sight of great destruction, its inventiveness and bravery in
undergoing, enduring, interpreting, exploiting misfortune, and whatever of depth, mystery, mask,
spirit, cunning and greatness has been bestowed upon it - has it not been bestowed through suffering,
through the discipline of great suffering?

In man, creature and creator are united: in man there is matter, fragment, excess, clay, mud, madness,
chaos; but in man there is also creator, sculptor, the hardness of the hammer, the divine spectator and
the seventh day - do you understand this antithesis? And that your pity is for the 'creature in man', for
that which has to be formed, broken, forged, torn, burned, annealed, refined - that which has to suffer
and should suffer?

And our pity - do you not grasp whom our opposite pity is for when it defends itself against your pity
as the worst of all pampering and weakening? - Pity against pity, then! - But, to repeat, there are
higher problems than the problems of pleasure and pain and pity; and every philosophy that treats
only of them is a piece of naivety. –

228

May I be forgiven the discovery that all moral philosophy hitherto has been boring and a soporific -
and that 'virtue' has in my eyes been harmed by nothing more than it has been by this boringness of its
advocates; in saying which, however, I should not want to overlook their general utility. It is
important that as few people as possible should think about morality - consequently it is very
important that morality should not one day become interesting! But do not worry! It is still now as it
has always been: I see no one in Europe who has (or propagates) any idea that thinking about
morality could be dangerous, insidious, seductive - that fatality could be involved!

Consider, for example, the indefatigable, inevitable English utilitarians and with what clumsy and
worthy feet they walk, stalk (a Homeric metaphor says it more plainly) along in the footsteps of
Bentham, just as he himself had walked in the footsteps of the worthy Helvetius (no, he was not a
dangerous man, this Helvetius, ce senateur Pococurante 2 as Galiani called him - ). No new idea, no
subtle expression or turn of an old idea, not even a real history of what had been thought before: an
impossible literature altogether, unless one knows how to leaven it with a little malice. For into these
moralists too (whom one has to read with mental reservations if one has to read them at all - ) there
has crept that old English vice called cant, which is moral tartuffery, this time concealed in the new

2 French, ‘the apathetic senator’

 pg. 64

form of scientificality; there are also signs of a secret struggle with pangs of conscience, from which a
race of former Puritans will naturally suffer. (Is a moralist not the opposite of a Puritan? That is to
say, as a thinker who regards morality as something questionable, as worthy of question-marks, in
short as a problem? Is moralizing not - immoral?) Ultimately they all want English morality to
prevail: inasmuch as mankind, or the 'general utility', or 'the happiness of the greatest number', no! the
happiness of England would best be served; they would like with all their might to prove to
themselves that to strive after English happiness, I mean after comfort and fashion (and, as the
supreme goal, a seat in Parliament), is at the same time the true path of virtue, indeed that all virtue
there has ever been on earth has consisted in just such a striving.

Not one of all these ponderous herd animals with their uneasy conscience (who undertake to advocate
the cause of egoism as the cause of the general welfare - ) wants to know or scent that the 'general
welfare' is not an ideal, or a goal, or a concept that can be grasped at all, but only an emetic – that
what is right for one cannot by any means therefore be right for another, that the demand for one
morality for all is detrimental to precisely the higher men, in short that there exists an order of rank
between man and man, consequently also between morality and morality. They are a modest and
thoroughly mediocre species of man, these English utilitarians, and, as aforesaid, in so far as they are
boring one cannot think sufficiently highly of their utility. One ought even to encourage them: which
is in part the objective of the following rhymes.

Hail, continual plodders, hail!

'Lengthen out the tedious tale',
Pedant still in head and knee,
Dull, of humour not a trace,
Permanently commonplace,
Sans genie et sans esprit! 3

Part Nine: What is Noble?

260

In a tour of the many finer and coarser moralities which have ruled or still rule on earth I found
certain traits regularly recurring together and bound up with one another; until at length two basic
types were revealed and a basic distinction emerged. There is master morality and slave morality - I
add at once that in all higher and mixed cultures attempts at mediation between the two are apparent
and more frequently confusion and mutual misunderstanding between them, indeed sometimes their
harsh juxtaposition - even within the same man, within one soul.

The moral value-distinctions have arisen either among a ruling order which was pleasurably conscious
of its distinction from the ruled - or among the ruled, the slaves and dependants of every degree. In the
former case, when it is the rulers who determine the concept 'good', it is the exalted, proud states of
soul which are considered distinguishing and determine the order of rank. The noble human being
separates from himself those natures in which the opposite of such exalted proud states find
expression: he despises them. It should be noted at once that in this first type of morality the antithesis
'good' and 'bad' means the same thing as 'noble' and 'despicable' - the antithesis 'good' and 'evil'
originates elsewhere.

The cowardly, the timid, the petty, and those who think only of narrow utility are despised; as are the

3 Latin, ‘Without genius and without wit’

 pg. 65

mistrustful with their constricted glance, those who abase themselves, the dog-like type of man who
lets himself be mistreated, the fawning flatterer, above all the liar - it is a fundamental belief of all
aristocrats that the common people are liars. 'We who are truthful' - thus did the nobility of ancient
Greece designate themselves.

It is immediately obvious that designations of moral value were everywhere first applied to human
beings, and only later and derivatively to actions: which is why it is a grave error when moral
historians start from such questions as 'why has the compassionate action been praised?' The noble
type of man feels himself to be the determiner of values, he does not need to be approved of, he judges
'what harms me is harmful in itself', he knows himself to be that which in general first accords honour
to things, he creates values. Everything he knows to be part of himself, he honours: such a morality is
self-glorification.

In the foreground stands the feeling of plenitude, of power which seeks to overflow, the happiness of
high tension, the consciousness of a wealth which would like to give away and bestow – the noble
human being too aids the unfortunate but not, or almost not, from pity, but more from an urge
begotten by superfluity of power. The noble human being honours in himself the man of power, also
the man who has power over himself, who understands how to speak and how to keep silent, who
enjoys practising severity and harshness upon himself and feels reverence for all that is severe and
harsh. 'A hard heart has Wotan 4 set in my breast', it says in an old Scandinavian saga: a just
expression coming from the soul of a proud Viking.

A man of this type is actually proud that he is not made for pity: which is why the hero of the saga
adds as a warning: 'he whose heart is not hard in youth will never have a hard heart'. Brave and noble
men who think that are at the farthest remove from that morality which sees the mark of the moral
precisely in pity or in acting for others or in désintéressement 5; belief in oneself, pride in oneself, a
fundamental hostility and irony for 'selflessness' belong just as definitely to noble morality as does a
mild contempt for and caution against sympathy and the 'warm heart'.

- It is the powerful who understand how to honour, that is their art, their realm of invention. Deep
reverence for age and the traditional - all law rests on this twofold reverence - belief in and prejudice
in favour of ancestors and against descendants, is typical of the morality of the powerful; and when,
conversely, men of 'modern ideas' believe almost instinctively in ‘progress' and 'the future' and show
an increasing lack of respect for age, this reveals clearly enough the ignoble origin of these 'ideas'.

A morality of the rulers is, however, most alien and painful to contemporary taste in the severity of its
principle that one has duties only towards one's equals; that towards beings of a lower rank, towards
everything alien, one may act as one wishes or 'as the heart dictates' and in any case 'beyond good
and evil' - : it is here that pity and the like can have a place.

The capacity for and the duty of protracted gratitude and protracted revenge - both only among one's
equals – subtlety in requittal, a refined conception of friendship, a certain need to have enemies (as
conduit systems, as it were, for the emotions of envy, quarrelsomeness, arrogance – fundamentally so
as to be able to be a good friend): all these are typical marks of noble morality which, as previously
indicated, is not the morality of 'modern ideas' and is therefore hard to enter into today, also hard to
unearth and uncover.

- It is otherwise with the second type of morality, slave morality. Suppose the abused, oppressed,
suffering, unfree, those uncertain of themselves and weary should moralize: what would their moral
evaluations have in common? Probably a pessimistic mistrust of the entire situation of man will find

4 Relating to the Norse god Odin, father of all gods. See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/W%C5%8Dden

5 French, meaning ‘disinterested, paying somebody off’

 pg. 66

expression, perhaps a condemnation of man together with his situation.

The slave is suspicious of the virtues of the powerful: he is sceptical and mistrustful, keenly
mistrustful, of everything 'good' that is honoured among them - he would like to convince himself that
happiness itself is not genuine among them. On the other hand, those qualities which serve to make
easier the existence of the suffering will be brought into prominence and flooded with light: here it is
that pity, the kind and helping hand, the warm heart, patience, industriousness, humility, friendliness
come into honour - for here these are the most useful qualities and virtually the only means of
enduring the burden of existence. Slave morality is essentially the morality of - utility.

Here is the source of the famous antithesis 'good' and 'evil' - power and danger were felt to exist in
evil, a certain dreadfulness, subtlety and strength which could not admit of contempt. Thus, according
to slave morality the 'evil' inspire fear; according to master morality it is precisely the 'good' who
inspire fear and want to inspire it, while the 'bad' man is judged contemptible.

The antithesis reaches its height when, consistently with slave morality, a breath of disdain finally
also comes to be attached to the 'good' of this morality – it may be a slight and benevolent disdain -
because within the slaves' way of thinking the good man has in any event to be a harmless man: he is
good-natured, easy to deceive, perhaps a bit stupid, un bonhomme 6. Wherever slave morality comes
to predominate, language exhibits a tendency to bring the words 'good' and 'stupid' closer to each
other.

-A final fundamental distinction: the longing for freedom, the instinct for the happiness and the
refinements of the feeling of freedom, belong just as necessarily to slave morality and morals as the
art of reverence and devotion and the enthusiasm for them are the regular symptom of an aristocratic
mode of thinking and valuating. - This makes it clear without further ado why love as passion - it is
our European speciality - absolutely must be of aristocratic origin: it was, as is well known, invented
by the poet-knights of Provence, those splendid, inventive men of the 'gai saber 7' to whom Europe
owes so much and, indeed, almost itself. –

284

To live with a tremendous and proud self-possession; always beyond -. To have and not have one's
emotions, one's for and against, at will, to condescend to have them for a few hours; to seat oneself on
them as on horses, often as on asses - for one has to know how to employ their stupidity as well as
their fire. To keep one's three hundred foregrounds; also one's dark glasses: for there are instances
where no one may look into our eyes, still less into our 'grounds'. And to choose for company that
cheerful and roguish vice, politeness. And to remain master of one's four virtues, courage, insight,
sympathy, solitude. For solitude is with us a virtue: it is a sublime urge and inclination for cleanliness
which divines that all contact between man and man - 'in society' - must inevitably be unclean. All
community makes somehow, somewhere, sometime - 'common'.

6 French, connotations of ‘good natured little man’

7 A Provençal expression, very roughly translated to ‘gay science’: referring to a form of poetry created by travelling

Troubadours. Nietzsche uses the expression to refer to forms of passionate knowing that allow life-affirmation.
 pg. 67

Meaning in Life
Susan Wolf

A False Dichotomy (pp. 1 – 7; paragraphs 1 – 12)

1. [1]Philosophical models of human psychology – or, more specifically, of human motivation –

tend to fall into one of two categories. Perhaps the oldest and most popular model
conceives of human beings as egoists, moved and guided exclusively by what they take to be
in their own self-interest. However, there have long been defenders of a dualistic model of
motivation as well, according to which people are capable of being moved not only by self-
interest, but also by something "higher." Kant, for example, famously thought that in
addition to being subject to inclinations, people are capable of being moved and directed by
reason alone.

2. Closely linked to these two descriptive models of human motivation are prescriptive or
normative models of practical reason. The descriptive thesis of psychological egoism, which
holds that people exclusively seek their own good, is closely connected to (and frequently
confused with) the normative thesis of rational egoism, which holds that people are only
rational insofar as they seek to maximize their welfare. Corresponding to the dual
conception of human motivation we find a dual conception of practical reason as well. This is
perhaps most explicit in the writings of Henry Sidgwick, who held [2] that two perspectives
offer people equally valid reasons to act: the egoistic perspective, which issues
recommendations of what is most in an agent's self-interest; and the impersonal
perspective, which urges one to do what is best "from the point of view of the universe."

3. In ordinary discourse as well as philosophy we seem to have one of these two models in the
backs of our minds when we offer justifications for our actions or our policies. Most often,
when asked to explain or justify our choices, we offer reasons that seem to fall under the
category of self-interest. When we are trying to persuade someone else to do something, we
may appeal to self-interest-in this case, to the other person's self-interest- even more. Still,
there are some occasions when invoking self-interest would simply be unconvincing, and
others when such appeals would be unseemly, or at least beside the point. In these cases,
we are likely to speak the language of duty: justice, compassion, or, simply, morality
demands that we act in such and such a way, whether it contributes to our own good or not.

4. These models of motivation and practical reason, however, seem to me to leave out many of
the motives and reasons that shape our lives. Moreover, the reasons left out are neither
peripheral nor eccentric. Indeed, we might say that the reasons and motives omitted by
these models are some of the most important and central ones in our lives. They are the
reasons and motives that engage us in the activities that make our lives worth living; they
give us a reason to go on; they make our worlds go round. They, and the activities they
engender, give meaning to our lives.

5. My aim in this lecture is to bring out the distinctive character of these sorts of reasons and
the special role they play in the quality of our lives. Specifically, I shall suggest that our
susceptibility to these sorts of reasons is connected to [3] the possibility that we live
meaningful lives, understanding meaningfulness as an attribute lives can have that is not
reducible to or subsumable under either happiness, as it is ordinarily understood, or
morality. I shall be mainly concerned to explain the feature I call meaningfulness in life and
 pg. 68

to present it in such a way as to make it seem worth wanting, both for ourselves and for
those about whom we care. As will be seen, however, what I have to say will be of little or
no practical use. Though I shall offer a view of what it means for a life to be meaningful, I can
offer only the most abstract advice about how to go about getting or living such a life. In my
second lecture therefore, after defending my view against one particularly important set of
objections, I shall turn to the question of why it matters that we notice that there is such a
category as meaningfulness, distinct from the categories of happiness and morality that we
are more used to invoking in thinking about what to do and how to live. As I shall argue,
awareness that meaning is a third sort of value a life can possess should affect our
understanding of the first two sorts: that is, adopting models of human motivation and
reason that are attentive to meaningfulness should affect the way we think about happiness
and morality – and about self-interest as well. Moreover, if the view I present in these
lectures is right, we cannot so much as conceive of meaning without attributing a certain
sort of objectivity to value judgments. It follows that if we want to continue to talk about,
attend to, and encourage the acquisition of meaning in people's lives, we need to be willing
to admit this sort of objectivity into our discussion of values.

6. Let me begin with some examples of the sorts of reasons and motives I have in mind –
reasons and motives that are not best understood in terms of their contributions to either
our happiness or our sense of what impersonal reason or morality [4] demands. The most
obvious examples of what I have in mind occur when we act out of love for individuals about
whom we deeply and especially care. When I visit my brother in the hospital, or help my
friend move, or stay up all night sewing my daughter a Halloween costume, I act neither for
egoistic reasons nor for moral ones. I do not believe that it is better for me that I spend a
depressing hour in a drab, cramped room, seeing my brother irritable and in pain, that I risk
back injury trying to get my friend's sofa safely down two flights of stairs, or that I forego
hours of much-wanted sleep to make sure that the wings will stand out at a good angle from
the butterfly costume my daughter wants to wear in the next day's parade. But neither do I
believe myself duty-bound to perform these acts, or fool myself into thinking that by doing
them I do what will be best for the world. I act neither out of self-interest nor out of duty or
any other sort of impersonal or impartial reason. Rather, I act out of love.

7. As the egoistic and dualist models of practical reason leave out what we might call these
"reasons of love," 1 so they seem to me also to leave out many of the reasons that move us
to pursue nonpersonal interests about which we are especially passionate. Writing
philosophy, practicing the cello, keeping one's garden free of weeds, may demand more of
one's time and attention than would be optimal from the point of view of one's own well-
being. Yet in these cases, even more than in the cases involving beloved human beings, it is
obvious that no impersonal perspective requires us to act. Just as, in [5] the case of acting
for a loved one, it is the good of that other person that provides us with a reason for our
action, what draws us on in the nonpersonal pursuits I have in mind is a perceived or
imagined value that lies outside of oneself. I agonize over the article I am trying to write
because I want to get it right-that is, because I want the argument to be sound, the view to
be correct, the writing to be clear and graceful. It is not for my sake – at least not only for my
sake – that I struggle so with my work. I do not know or care whether it is best for me – that
is, whether it is best from the point of view of my self-interest – that I try to improve my
work beyond a certain point, any more than I care whether it is best for me that I put so

1The phrase is used by Harry Frankfurt in much the same way as I use it and for purposes that largely overlap with mine in
Harry Frankfurt, The Reasons of Love (Princeton; Princeton University Press, 2004). Like me, Frankfurt sees our
susceptibility to reasons of love as essential to the possibility that we live meaningful lives. He forcefully rejects the
conditions on which reasons for love can ground claims of meaning that I defend in what follows, however.
 pg. 69

much energy into making my daughter happy. We might say that I struggle "for philosophy's
sake" rather than for my own, but that would be misleading and obscure as well as
pretentious. Still, it seems to me that it is the value of good philosophy that is driving and
guiding my behavior in this instance, as it might be the beauty of the music or of the
potential garden that moves the cellist or gardener to sacrifice ease and exercise discipline
in pursuing her goal.

8. It does not seem unnatural or forced to speak of the subjects of these examples as loving
philosophy or music or flowers, and their love for these things may not only explain but may
also justify (or, more strictly, may contribute to the justification of) their choices and
behavior more than their love for themselves or for morality or for some other impersonal
and general good. Because of the similarities in the motivational and deliberative stance of
these subjects to that of people who act out of love for individuals, I shall use the phrase
"reasons of love" to cover both types of cases. My claim then is that reasons of love –
whether of human individuals, other living creatures, or activities, ideals or objects [6] of
other sorts – have a distinctive and important role in our lives. They are not to be
assimilated to reasons of self-interest or reasons of morality. Insofar as we fail to recognize
and appreciate the legitimacy and value of these reasons, we misunderstand our values and
ourselves and distort our concerns.

9. Not all actions that are motivated and guided by reasons of love are justified, however. Not
all reasons of love are good reasons. For one thing, your love for something or someone is
no guarantee that you know what is actually good for them. You may mean to help the
object of your love, but your action may not benefit it. You might spoil your child, overwater
your plants, cramp your philosophical style.

10. More interestingly, love can be misplaced or misguided; the energy or attention that you
give to an object of love may be disproportionate to what that object merits 2. A wonderful
woman might give up her career, her home, her friendships to follow and serve a man the
rest of us see does not "deserve her." An impressionable teenager might sign over his trust
fund to a cult with which he has become enamored, thereby losing both his financial security
and the opportunity to benefit worthier and needier groups.

11. What I wish to defend, then, is the justifiability and importance of a subset of those actions
and decisions that are guided by reasons of love. Roughly, I want to defend the claim that
acting in a way that positively engages with a worthy object of love can be perfectly justified
even if it does not [7] maximally promote either the agent's welfare or the good of the
world, impartially assessed.

12. Actions and decisions based on the good of the beloved are part and parcel of love and its
expression quite generally. When, in addition, the object of love is specified to be worthy of
love, the justification of action on behalf of that object may be straightforward. Why
shouldn't it be as justifiable for a person to act on behalf of a friend, for example, as it is for
her to act on her own behalf? And why shouldn't it be as justifiable to act on behalf of one's
friend as it is to do something of greater benefit to the world at large? Unless rational
egoism or a particularly extreme form of consequentialism is presupposed, there is no

2
The first way in which reasons of love may be mistaken parallels mistakes to which what we might call "reasons of self-
interest" and "reasons of morality" are subject. I may think that something is in my self-interest when it is actually harmful;
I may think morality requires or allows me to do what in fact is morally wrong. It is not obvious that the second way in
which an apparent reason of love can be wrong has parallels in these other categories. There may be no such thing as
caring too much about one's own good or about morality.
 pg. 70

reason to doubt the rational permissibility of acting on such reasons of love. Still, I want to
say something stronger, something more favorable and more supportive of reasons of this
sort. More precisely, I want to say something more favorable about a life that is prone to
being moved and guided by such reasons. Proneness to being moved and guided by such
reasons, I believe, is at the core of our ability to live meaningful lives. But it is far from clear
what saying this amounts to.

A Conception of Meaningfulness in Life (pp. 7 – 13; paragraphs 13 – 25)

13. Academic philosophers do not talk much about meaningfulness in life. The term is more
likely to be used by theologians or therapists, and by people who are in some way
dissatisfied with their lives but are unable to pin down why. People sometimes complain
that their lives lack meaning; they yearn for meaning; they seek meaning. People sometimes
judge others to be leading exceptionally meaningful lives, looking upon them with envy or
admiration. Meaning is commonly associated with a kind of depth. Often the need for
meaning is connected to the sense that one's life is [8] empty or shallow. An interest in
meaning is also frequently associated with thoughts one might have on one's deathbed, or
in contemplation of one's eventual death. When the word "meaningful" is used in
characterizing a life (or in characterizing what is missing from a life), it calls something to
mind, but it is not clear what, nor is it clear that it calls or is meant to call the same thing to
mind in all contexts.

14. In offering a conception of meaningfulness, I do not wish to insist that the term is always
used in the same way, or that what I have to offer as an analysis of meaningfulness can be
substituted for that term in every context. On the other hand, I do believe that much talk of
meaning is aimed at capturing the same abstract idea, and that my proposal of what that
idea is fits well with many of the uses to which the word is put. Whether or not my idea of
meaningfulness captures what others mean when they use the term, it is an idea of
philosophical interest, for it is an idea of a significant way in which a life can be good, a
category or dimension of value, if you will, which we have a serious reason to want for
ourselves and for those we care about, and which is neither subsumable under nor reducible
to either happiness or morality.

15. According to the conception of meaningfulness I wish to propose, meaning arises from
loving objects worthy of love and engaging with them in a positive way. The words "love"
and "objects," however, are in some ways misleadingly specific, "engaging [with objects) in a
positive way” regrettably vague, and the description of some objects but not others as being
"worthy of love" may be thought to be contentious. Rather than try to clarify the view by
taking up one word or phrase at a time, let me try to describe the view in other terms,
bringing out what I take to be salient.

16. [9] What is perhaps most distinctive about my conception of meaning, or about the category
of value I have in mind, is that it involves subjective and objective elements, suitably and
inextricably linked. "Love" is at least partly subjective, involving attitudes and feelings. In
insisting that the requisite object must be "worthy of love," however, this conception of
meaning invokes an objective standard. It is implicit in insisting that an object be worthy of
love (in order to contribute meaning to the lover's life) that not any object will do. Nor is it
guaranteed that the subject's own assessment of worthiness is privileged. One might
paraphrase this by saying that, according to my conception, meaning arises when subjective
attraction meets objective attractiveness.
 pg. 71

17. Essentially, the idea is that a person's life can be meaningful only if she cares fairly deeply
about some thing or things, only if she is gripped, excited, interested, engaged, or as I earlier
put it, if she loves something – as opposed to being bored by or alienated from most or all
that she does. Even a person who is so engaged, however, will not live a meaningful life if
the objects or activities with which she is so occupied are worthless. A person who loves
smoking pot all day long, or doing endless crossword puzzles, and has the luxury of being
able to indulge in this without restraint does not thereby make her life meaningful. Finally,
this conception of meaning specifies that the relationship between the subject and the
object of her attraction must be an active one. The condition that says that meaning involves
engaging with the (worthy) object of love in a positive way is meant to make clear that mere
passive recognition and a positive attitude toward an object's or activity's value is not
sufficient for a meaningful life. One must be able to be in some sort of relationship with the
valuable object of one's attention – to [10] create it, protect it, promote it, honor it, or more
generally, to actively affirm it in some way or other.

18. Aristotle is well known for his use of the endoxic method in defending moral and conceptual
claims. That is, he takes the endoxa, 3 "the things which are accepted by everyone, or by
most people or by the wise" as a starting point in his inquiries. If a view can explain and
support these common beliefs, or, even better, if it can bring them into harmony with each
other, that counts as an argument in its favor. In that spirit, I suggest that my view might be
seen as a combination, or a welding together, of two other, more popular views that one
often hears offered, if not as analyses of meaning in life, then at least as ingredients –
sometimes the key ingredients – in a life well lived.

19. The first view tells us that it doesn't matter what you do with your life as long as it is
something you love. Do not get stuck, or settle into doing something just because it is
expected of you, or because it is conventionally recognized as good, or because nothing
better occurs to you. Find your passion. Figure out what turns you on, and go for it. 4

20. The second view says that in order to live a truly satisfying life one needs to get involved in
something "larger than oneself." 5 The reference to the size of the group or the object [11]
one wants to benefit or be involved with is perhaps misleading and unfortunate, but it is not
unreasonable to understand such language metaphorically, as a way of gesturing toward the
aim of participating in or contributing to something whose value is independent of oneself
Understood this way, the first view, (“find your passion”) may be understood as a way of
advocating something similar to the subjective element contained in my proposed analysis
of meaningfulness while the second view, (“be part of something larger than yourself”)
urges us to satisfy the objective condition.

21. Each of these more popular views is sometimes couched in the vocabulary of meaning, and
in each case there is a basis for that choice in our ordinary uses of the term. When thinking
about one's own life, for example, a person's worry or complaint that his life lacks meaning

3
Aristotle, Topics I.I 1006 21-3. For an excellent discussion of the endoxic method, see Richard Kraut, "How to Justify
Ethical Propositions: Aristotle's Method," in The Blackwell Guide to Aristotle's "Nicomachean Ethics" (Oxford: Blackwell,
2006) 76-95.
4
One of those silly books that were on sale at the cashiers' desks at Barnes & Noble a few years ago advanced that view.
The book, by Bradley Trevor Greive (Kansas City: Andrews McMeel Publishing, 2002) was called The Meaning of Life.
Richard Taylor offers a more serious and provocative defense of the view in Richard Taylor, Good and Evil (New York:
Macmillan, 1970), Chapter 18.
5
Not surprisingly, it is common to hear religious leaders speak in these terms, but many others do as well. For example,
Peter Singer draws on this conception of the good life in his book, How Are We To Live? Ethics in an Age of Self-interest
(Melbourne: The Text Publishing Company, 1993).
 pg. 72

is apt to be an expression of dissatisfaction with the subjective quality of that life. Some
subjective good is felt to be missing. One's life feels empty. One longs to find something to
do that will fill this gap and make one feel, as it were, fulfilled.

22. On the other hand, when we consider the lives of others our tendency to characterize some
as especially meaningful and others as less so is apt to reflect differences in our assessments
of the objective value of what these lives are about. When we look for paradigms of
meaningful lives, who comes to mind? Gandhi, perhaps, or Mother Theresa, or Einstein, or
Cézanne. Sisyphus, condemned to an endless cycle of rolling a huge stone up a hill, only to
have it roll down again, is a standard exemplar of a meaningless existence. Our choice of
these examples seems to be based on the value (or lack of value) we take these people's
activities to have, rather than on the subjective quality of their inner lives.

23. Insofar as the conception of meaningfulness I propose welds these two popular views
together, it may be seen as a [12] partial affirmation of both. From my perspective, both
these views have something right about them, but each also leaves out something crucial.

24. Why believe any of these views? The question is ambiguous. Understood as the question,
"Why believe that any one of these views offers a correct analysis of meaningfulness in life?"
the inquiry seems to focus on whether any of the views under consideration captures a
property or feature or set of conditions that answers to most of the instances in which the
term "meaningful" is used in ordinary discourse, in contexts in which the topic in question is
meaningfulness in life (as opposed, say, to meaningfulness in language). In answering this
question, we would want to look at how the term is used in ordinary discourse: In what sorts
of situations do questions of meaning arise? What sorts of concerns is the presence of
meaning in a person's life supposed to put to rest? What types of lives would be generally
accepted as paradigms of meaning? What types would be accepted as paradigms of
meaninglessness? I have already expressed some doubt about whether there is a single
cleanly definable concept that is being invoked in all the contexts in which talk of meaningful
(and meaningless) lives may naturally take place. More important than the question of how
to use the term “meaning”, in any event, is the question of what a good life should contain.
Above all, when therapists, ministers, and motivational speakers tell you either to "find your
passion'' or to "contribute to something larger than yourself," they are offering advice about
how to live. More important than asking which, if any, of these views offers a plausible
conception of "meaningfulness," is asking which, if any of them, identifies key and distinctive
ingredients of a fully flourishing, successful, good life.

25. Still, it is difficult to keep the conceptual and the normative questions apart. Those who urge
us to find our passions or to [13] contribute to something larger than ourselves typically
mean to be responding to a more particular set of concerns than is expressed by the general
question, "How should one live?" We cannot properly interpret their advice, much less
assess it, without having some idea of what those concerns are, and it would be difficult to
call up the intuitions, to capture the images and feelings on which it is relevant to reflect,
without occasionally using the word "meaningful" in our description. My own proposal, that
we recognize a category of value that is not reducible to happiness or morality, and that is
realized by loving objects worthy of love and engaging with them in a positive way, is offered
as a refinement or as an alternative to this more popular forms of advice, and it is easiest to
express this in terms that identify the category of value in question with meaningfulness. No
harm, I hope, will be done by this. As long as we are alert to the possibility of filtering out
questions about how to understand and apply the term “meaningful” from questions about
what to aspire to in life, we can be careful to ensure that no questions will be begged.
 pg. 73

The Fulfillment View (pp. 13 – 18; paragraphs 26 – 37)

26. Let us turn our attention, then, to the first of the popular views I mentioned, the one that
stresses the subjective element, urging each person to find his or her passion and pursue it.
It is easy to see why someone would support this advice, and find plausible the claim that
being able to pursue a passion adds something distinctive and deeply good to life. For the
advice, at least as I understand it, rests on the plausible empirical supposition that doing
what one loves doing, being involved with things one really cares about, gives one a kind of
joy in life that one would otherwise be without. The reason one should find one’s passion
and go for it, then, is because doing so will give one’s life a particular type of good feeling.
Moreover, the [14] distinctiveness of the type of good feeling in question makes it possible
to see how the kind of life that engenders such feelings would be associated with
meaningfulness, and how therefore one might be led to identify a meaningful life as a life
lived pursuing one's passions.

27. Let us refer to the feelings one has when one is doing what one loves, or when one is
engaging in activities by which one is gripped or excited, as feelings of fulfillment. Such
feelings are the opposite of the very bad feelings of boredom and alienation. Although
feelings of fulfillment are unquestionably good feelings, there are many other good feelings,
perhaps more comfortably classified as pleasures, that have nothing to do with fulfillment.
Riding a roller coaster, meeting a movie star, eating a hot fudge sundae, finding a great dress
on sale, can all give one pleasure, even intense pleasure. They are unlikely to contribute to a
sense of fulfillment, however, and it would not be difficult to imagine a person who has an
abundance of opportunities for such pleasures still finding something (subjectively) lacking
in her life.

28. Further, someone whose life is fulfilling has no guarantee of being happy in the conventional
sense of that term. Many of the things that grip or engage us make us vulnerable to pain,
disappointment, and stress. Consider, for example, writing a book, training for a triathlon,
campaigning for a political candidate, caring for an ailing friend.

29. It may later be useful to bring to mind the fact that feelings of fulfillment are but one kind of
positive feeling and potentially compete with other kinds: spending one's time, energy,
money, and so on, on the projects that fulfill you necessarily reduces the resources you have
for engaging in activities that are "merely" fun. Moreover, to the extent that one's sources of
fulfillment are also sources of anxiety and suffering, the pleasure one gets from pursuing
these things may be thought, [15] at least from a hedonistic perspective, to be qualified or
balanced by the negative feelings that accompany it. Still, the fact that most of us would
willingly put up with a great deal of stress, anxiety, and vulnerability to pain in order to
pursue our passions can be seen as providing support for the idea that fulfillment is indeed a
great and distinctive good in life. Insofar as the view that urges us “to find our passion and
go for it” expresses that idea, there is a lot to be said for it. From here on, I shall refer to that
view as the "Fulfillment View."

30. Because feelings of fulfillment are different from and sometimes compete with other types
of good feeling, types that are more paradigmatically associated with terms like "happiness"
and "pleasure," it is plausible to interpret the Fulfillment View as a proposal for what gives
meaning to life. To someone who finds himself puzzled by why, despite having a good job, a
loving family, and a healthy body, he feels that something is missing from his life, it provides
an answer. To someone trying to decide what career to pursue, or more generally, how to
 pg. 74

structure his life, it advises against focusing too narrowly on the superficial goals of ease,
prestige, and material wealth. Nonetheless, the Fulfillment View, as I have interpreted it, is a
form of hedonism, in that its prescription for the best possible life (in which is included the
possession of meaning) rests exclusively on the question of how a life can attain the best
qualitative character. Positive experience is, on this view, the only thing that matters. 6

31. For this very reason, it seems to me, the view is inadequate as it stands. If, as the Fulfillment
View suggests, the only thing that matters is the subjective quality of one's life, then [16] it
shouldn't matter, in our assessments of possible lives, which activities give rise to that
quality. If the point of finding one's passion and pursuing it is simply to be fulfilled – that is,
to get and keep the feelings of fulfillment, then it shouldn't matter what activities or objects
one has a passion for. Considering a variety of lives, all equally fulfilling, but differing
radically in the sorts of things that give rise to that fulfillment, however, may make us
wonder whether we can really accept that view.

32. Imagine, in particular, a person whose life is dominated by activities that most of us would
be tempted to call worthless, but which nonetheless give fulfillment to that person. I earlier
gave the example of a person who simply loves smoking pot all day, and another (or maybe
the same person) who is fulfilled doing crossword puzzles, or worse (as personal experience
will attest), Sudokus. We might also consider more bizarre cases: a man who lives to make
handwritten copies of the text of War and Peace; or a woman whose world revolves around
her love for her pet goldfish. Do we think that, from the point of view of self-interest, these
lives are as good as can be – provided, perhaps, that their affections and values are stable,
and that the goldfish doesn't die?

33. Initially, perhaps, not everyone will answer these questions in the same way; some will not
know what to think. In part, I believe this is because we are uncomfortable making negative
judgments about other people's lives, even about imaginary other people who are conceived
realistically enough to be stand-ins for real people. We are especially uncomfortable making
negative judgments that diverge from the judgments the characters would make about their
own lives. To avoid this problem, let me approach these questions by way of reflection on a
more stylized philosophical example – namely, the case of Sisyphus Fulfilled.

34. [17] Sisyphus, in the ancient myth, is condemned to an existence that is generally
acknowledged to be awful. He is condemned eternally to a task that is boring, difficult, and
futile. Because of this, Sisyphus's life, or more precisely, his afterlife, has been commonly
treated as a paradigm of a meaningless existence. 7

35. The philosopher Richard Taylor, however, in a discussion of life's absurdity, suggests a
thought experiment according to which the gods take pity on Sisyphus and inject a
substance in his veins that transforms him from someone for whom stone-rolling is nothing
but a painful, arduous, and unwelcome chore to someone who loves stone-rolling more than
anything else in the (after-)world.8 There is nothing the transformed Sisyphus would rather
do than roll that stone. Stone-rolling, in other words, fulfills him. Sisyphus has found his
passion (or perhaps his passion has found him), and he is pursuing it to his life's content. The

6
The Fulfillment View might be considered a plausible extension of J. S. Mill's view that an enlightened hedonist must take
into account the differences in quality as well as quantity of pleasure in conceiving of the best possible life. See John Stuart
Mill, Utilitarianism (1861), Chapter 2.
7
See especially Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays (New York:
Alfred A. Knopf, 1955).
8
See Taylor, Good and Evil (n. 4, above).
 pg. 75

question is, what should we think of him? Has his life been transformed from horribly
unfortunate to exceptionally good? Taylor thinks so, but some of us might disagree.

36. As I have already noted, the reason Sisyphus has traditionally been taken as a paradigm of a
meaningless existence is that he is condemned to the perpetual performance of a task that
is boring, difficult, and futile. In Taylor's variation, Sisyphus's task is no longer boring – no
longer boring to Sisyphus, that is. But it remains futile. There is no value to his efforts;
nothing ever comes of them. Even if due to divine intervention, Sisyphus comes to enjoy and
even to feel fulfilled by his activity, the pointlessness of what he is doing doesn't change.

37. [18] In light of this, many will feel that Sisyphus's situation remains far from enviable.
Something desirable seems missing from his life despite his experience of fulfillment. Since
what is missing is not a subjective matter – from the inside, we may assume that Sisyphus's
life is as good as can be – we must look for an objective feature that characterizes what is
lacking. The second popular view I brought up earlier names, or at least gestures toward, a
feature that might fit the bill.

The Larger-than-Oneself View and the Bipartite View (pp. 18 – 25; paragraphs 38 – 50)

38. That second view tells us that the best sort of life is one that is involved in, or contributes to
something “larger than oneself.” Contemplation of the case of Sisyphus should, however, be
enough to show that this "larger" must be understood metaphorically. We may, after all,
imagine the rock Sisyphus is endlessly pushing uphill to be very large. We might rather
understand the view as one that recommends involvement in something more important
than ourselves – something, in other words, that is larger than ourselves not in size but in
value. If the recommendation is to be taken as a criterion for a meaningful life, however, I
would be inclined to argue against this interpretation, too. For one thing, if we assume that
the value of one person's life is as great as the value of another's, it would seem to rule out
the possibility that a life devoted to the care of a single other individual – a disabled partner,
for example, or a frail, aging parent, or a child with special needs – could be a meaningful
life, for the value of the one cared for is presumably just equal to and not larger than the
value of the person who does the caring. When we try to assess projects and activities that
are not principally aimed at the benefit of one or more human beings, the difficulties with
such a view appear even more serious. Presumably, [19] a dog is not more important than
oneself – but what about two dogs, or six? And what about projects and activities that are
not directed toward promoting anyone's welfare at all? Is philosophy or poetry or basketball
something “larger than oneself” in value? It is difficult to know exactly what the question is
asking.

39. A more promising interpretation of the view that links meaningfulness to involvement with
something larger than oneself takes the metaphor of size less seriously. According to this
interpretation, the point is to recommend that one get involved not with something larger
than oneself, but rather with something other than oneself – that is, with something the
value of which is independent of and has its source outside of oneself. Presumably,
Sisyphean stone-rolling has no such value – nor, it seems, does pot-smoking or Sudoku-
solving. But devotion to a single, needy individual does satisfy this condition as much as
devotion to a crowd. Philosophy and basketball appear to meet this criterion, too, since the
value of these activities, whatever it is, does not depend on one's own contingent interest in
them.
 pg. 76

40. If we interpret the advice that one get involved with something "larger than oneself" in this
way, it might be thought to represent a second and independent criterion for a fully
successful and flourishing life. Combining this advice with the Fulfillment View, one might
think, yields a better, bipartite conception of meaningfulness than either view taken on its
own. The Fulfillment View directs our attention to a subjective component that a meaningful
life must contain. But, as the case of Sisyphus Fulfilled led us to see, even a life that fully
satisfies the subjective condition may be one we would be hesitant to describe as
meaningful, if objectively that life were unconnected to anything or anyone whose value lay
outside of the person whose life it was. By conjoining the [20] Fulfillment View with the
injunction to get involved with something "larger than oneself," we get a proposal that
appears to remedy the problem. On this bipartite view, in order for a life to be meaningful
both an objective and a subjective condition must be met: A meaningful life is a life that a.)
the subject finds fulfilling, and b.) contributes to or connects positively with something the
value of which has its source outside the subject.

41. If, however, meaningfulness is understood to refer to a coherent dimension of value, more
specific than the general category of self-interest, or the even more general category of "all
that is desirable in a life," it would be puzzling if it turned out to depend on the satisfaction
of two unrelated conditions. The proposal I favor, which identifies meaning with a condition
in which subjective and objective components are suitably linked, conceives of
meaningfulness in a more unified way. My conception of meaningfulness sees subjective and
objective elements fitting together to constitute a coherent feature a life might or might not
possess. Besides, if we really consider the two conditions of meaningfulness proposed by the
Bipartite View as criteria to be taken separately, it is not clear that they contribute to the
goodness of a person's life at all. 9

42. Consider again the suggestion that a life in which a person contributes to something larger
than himself (suitably interpreted) is more meaningful than a life that serves only the needs
and desires of the person whose life it is. I introduced this idea in answer to the question of
what (desirable feature) might be missing from a life like that of Sisyphus Fulfilled [21] (or
the pot-smoker, or Sudoku-player), that prevents it from representing a life we would want
for ourselves or for those we love. We could add stipulations to these examples that
guaranteed that the protagonists' lives and activities did contribute to some independent
value. If they had no interest in the external or objective or independent value with which
their lives were involved, however, it is not clear that that involvement would make their
lives any better or more desirable to them. Imagine, for example, that unbeknownst to
Sisyphus, his stone-rolling scares away vultures who would otherwise attack a nearby
community and spread terror and disease. Or imagine that the pot-smoker's secondary
marijuana smoke is alleviating the pain of the AIDS victim next door. If Sisyphus and the pot-
smoker do not care about the benefits their lives are producing, it is hard to see why the fact
that their lives yield those benefits – that they contribute, in other words, to something
larger or other than themselves – should make us any more inclined to describe their lives as
meaningful (or to find their lives desirable) than we were before we learned of these
consequences.

43. Even when we consider people whose involvement with something "larger" is less
accidental, the contribution this makes to the quality of their own lives is limited at best if
they are not emotionally engaged with the people or things or activities that make what
they are doing valuable. People who do valuable work but who cannot identify or take pride

9
I thank Cheshire Calhoun for pressing me to think about why the relation between the subjective and objective conditions
of my conception of meaningfulness is important.
 pg. 77

in what they are doing – the alienated housewife, the conscripted soldier, the assembly line
worker, for example – may know that what they are doing is valuable, yet reasonably feel
that their lives lack something that might be referred to as meaning.

44. In any case, it seems to me that when the recommendation to get involved with something
larger than oneself is offered, it is offered in the hope, if not the expectation, that [22] if one
does get so involved, it will make one feel good. The thought is that if one tries it, one will
like it, and one will like it in part because of one's recognition that one is engaged with a
person or an object or an activity that is independently valuable. 10 The suggestion, then, that
one gets meaning in life through involvement with something larger than oneself may be
most charitably interpreted as a suggestion that is not meant to be taken in isolation. It is
not to be regarded as a criterion of meaningfulness separable from any assumptions about
the attitudes the subject will have toward the project or activity in question. If one gets
involved in something larger than oneself – or, as I have interpreted it, in something the
value of which is (in part) independent of oneself – then, if one is lucky, one will find that
involvement fulfilling, and if that happens, then one's life will both be and seem meaningful.
If one's involvement brings no such reward, however, it is unclear that it contributes to
meaning in one's life at all.

45. Just as the objective condition sometimes associated with meaning – namely, that one's life
be involved in something larger than oneself – is much more plausible when it is understood
to function in conjunction with a positive subjective attitude to one's involvement, so it
seems to me that the subjective condition – that one live in a way that one finds fulfilling – is
more plausible when understood in conjunction with objective constraints. I suggested a
moment ago that when someone recommends that you get involved in something larger
than oneself, the hope, if not the expectation, [23] that is lurking in the background is that
you will find that involvement subjectively rewarding. Similarly, when someone
recommends that you find your passion and go for it, there seems also to be a hope, if not
an expectation, lurking in the background; namely, that the passion you find, the pursuit of
which will be fulfilling, will be an intelligible one, within certain bounds. You will not be
passionate – at least not for very long – about stone-rolling, or Sudokus, or caring for your
goldfish, or making handwritten copies of War and Peace.

46. In my earlier discussion of Sisyphus Fulfilled, I expressed sympathy with those who, unlike
Richard Taylor, found something desirable missing from Sisyphus's life, despite his being
subjectively quite content. There is room for an even stronger disagreement with Taylor,
however, that I want to consider now. Specifically, one might wonder whether the
transformation that Sisyphus undergoes from being unhappy, bored, and frustrated to being
blissfully fulfilled makes Sisyphus better off at all. One might think that it actually makes his
situation worse.

47. From a hedonistic perspective, of course, Sisyphus's transformation must make his life
better, for the only changes in Sisyphus are subjective. Negative feelings and attitudes are
replaced by positive ones. From a nonhedonistic perspective, however, these changes come
at a cost. When I try to understand the new Sisyphus's state of mind, when I try to imagine
how someone might find stone-rolling fulfilling, I can only conceive of two possibilities: On
the one hand, I can think of the substance in Sisyphus's veins as inducing delusions that

10
This does not always work. It is a standard part of the requirements for a child who is training for a Bar or Bat Mitzvah, as
it is for many middle and high school programs, that the child spend a specified number of hours engaged in community
service. Not surprisingly, the degree to which this results in a gratifying experience, an enhanced social consciousness, or a
lasting commitment varies widely.
 pg. 78

make Sisyphus see something in stone-rolling that isn't really there. On the other hand, the
drug in his veins may have lowered his intelligence and reduced his imaginative capacity,
thus eliminating his ability to perceive the dullness [24] and futility of his labors or to
compare them to other more challenging or worthwhile things that, had the gods not
condemned him, he might have been doing instead. In either case, Sisyphus is in at least one
respect worse off than he was before his transformation. He is either afflicted by mental
illness or delusions or diminished in his intellectual powers.

48. Opinion may divide over whether, all things considered, the transformation makes Sisyphus
worse or better off. Those in strongest sympathy with Mill's claim that it is better to be a
human unsatisfied than a pig satisfied may think that however bad the fate of the classical
Sisyphus, the fate of the transformed Sisyphus is worse. Others may conclude that since
Sisyphus is condemned to roll stones in any case, it is better for him to be happy with, or
more precisely, fulfilled by his lot than otherwise. Even those who hold the view that it is
better to be Sisyphus happy than Sisyphus unhappy, however, may agree that it is better still
not to be Sisyphus at all.

49. To me, the first scenario, in which the transformed Sisyphus is deluded, seems a more
plausible way to understand what it would be for Sisyphus to be or to feel fulfilled by stone-
rolling, for “fulfilment” seems to me to include a cognitive component that requires seeing
the source or object of fulfillment as being, in some independent way, good or worthwhile.
Even deep and intense pleasures, like lying on the beach on a beautiful day, or eating a
perfectly ripe peach, would not naturally be described as fulfilling. To find something
fulfilling is rather to find it such as to be characterizable in terms that would portray it as
(objectively) good. 11

50. [25] Imagining Sisyphus in terms of either scenario, however, can explain why we might
hesitate to describe the life of Sisyphus Fulfilled as meaningful – and similarly, I would argue,
why we would withhold that label from the life of the fulfilled pot-smoker, goldfish-lover, or
Tolstoy-copier. Imagining these characters on the model of either scenario would, in any
case, help to explain why we might regard their lives as far from ideal. Earlier I suggested
that we might judge these lives to be “missing something,” a phrase that suggests a feature
separable from fulfillment that these lives lack, rendering them less than optimally
meaningful (if meaningful at all). In light of our discussion, we can now see that even the
apparent condition of meaningfulness they do satisfy – that is, the condition of being
fulfilled – is in a certain way defective and less desirable than fulfillment stemming from a
more fitting or appropriate source.

The Fitting Fulfillment View Defended (pp. 25 – 33; paragraphs 51 – 66)

51. I earlier argued that the suggestion that a life is meaningful insofar as it contributes to
something larger than itself is most charitably understood if we take it not as an isolated
objective criterion; rather, we should see it as a criterion that functions in tandem with an
expectation about the subjective feelings and attitudes that contributing to something larger
will engender. Analogously, the suggestion that a life is meaningful insofar as one finds one's
passion and goes for it (thereby being fulfilled) is best understood as a subjective criterion

11
Though he does not use the language of "fulfillment" and "meaningfulness," Stephen Darwall discusses the profound
contribution to welfare that comes from "the experience of connecting with something of worth in a way that enables the
direct appreciation of the value of one's activity" in, Welfare and Rational Care (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2002
) 95. His discussion of such experiences, which I take to be more or less identical to what I am describing as experiences of
fulfillment, offers an especially good characterization of the kind of appreciation of value at issue that avoids over-
intellectualizing it. The account of human welfare he develops in Chapter Four has much in common with the description of
meaningfulness I defend here.
 pg. 79

meant to function not in isolation but rather in [26] conjunction with the assumption that
the objects of one's passions will fall within a certain objective range.

52. The conception of meaningfulness that I proposed at the beginning of this lecture brings
these two criteria together. That conception, you will remember, claimed that
meaningfulness in life came from loving something (or a number of things) worthy of love,
and being able to engage with it (or them) in some positive way. As I have put it on other
occasions, meaning in life consists in and arises from actively engaging in projects of worth. 12
On this conception, meaning in life arises when subjective attraction meets objective
attractiveness, and one is able to do something about it or with it.

53. The popular view that takes meaningfulness to consist in finding one's passion and pursuing
it can be taken as a way to emphasize the role that love, or subjective attraction, plays in
meaning. The equally familiar view that associates meaning with a contribution to or
involvement with something larger than oneself can be understood as emphasizing the role
of objective value or worth. The endoxic method thus supports the conception of
meaningfulness I propose here. It supports the view that when people talk about
meaningfulness, they often have roughly the thing I have identified in mind; it supports the
idea that the feature I have identified is, at some level, recognized as desirable; that it is
thought, or perhaps better, felt to answer to a certain kind of human need. The question
remains, however, why such a feature should be thought or felt to be desirable. What, if
anything, is so good, [27] so distinctively good, about loving objects worthy of love and being
able actively to engage with them in a positive way? An advantage of my conception of
meaning, in addition to its being supported by the endoxic method, is that it identifies a
feature that yields an intelligible and plausible answer to this question.

54. We have already noted that being able to be actively engaged with things that one loves,
being able, in other words, to indulge one's passions, affords a particularly rewarding type of
subjective experience – it is, if you will, a high quality pleasure. Like the Fulfillment View, the
Fitting Fulfillment View (for lack of a better name) identifies a feature that gives this
recognizable benefit to the person whose life possesses it. According to the latter view,
however, what is distinctively valuable is not the state or ongoing experience of fulfillment
considered in itself. Rather, what is valuable is that one's life be actively (and lovingly)
engaged in projects that give rise to this feeling, when the projects in question can be seen
to have a certain kind of objective worth. It is not enough, on this view, that one is occupied
with doing things that one loves. The things one loves doing must be good in some
independent way. Why should this be something that matters to us? If having this in one's
life answers a human need, what human need is it?

55. At least part of the answer, I believe, has to do with a need, or at least an interest or
concern, to see one's life as valuable in a way that can be recognized from a point of view
other than one's own. We can better understand this need, and perhaps quell the doubts of
those who are skeptical of its existence, if we see its connection to other features of human
psychology with which we are familiar from other contexts. One such feature that has long
been of interest to philosophers has been especially emphasized by Thomas Nagel [28] –
namely, the human capacity, indeed the tendency, to see (or try to see) oneself from an

12
See Susan Wolf, "The Meanings of Lives," in Introduction to Philosophy: Classical and Contemporary Readings, eds. John
Perry, Michael Bratman, and John Martin Fischer (New York: Oxford University Press, 2007) 62--73; and Susan Wolf,
"Meaningful Lives in a Meaningless World," Quaestiones Injinitae 19 (June 1997), publication of the Department of
Philosophy, Utrecht University, 1--22. This formulation fails to emphasize the element of love (or passion or identification)
as much as the others.
 pg. 80

external point of view.' 13 Humans have a tendency to aspire to see things, including
themselves, without bias, to observe their lives from a detached perspective. They aspire to
a kind of objectivity. Nagel has characterized this as an aspiration to take a "view from
nowhere"; others have talked about this feature in terms of a God's-eye point of view.

56. In addition, humans have a need to think well of themselves – a need for self-esteem. If one
is prone to imagine oneself from an external point of view, to see oneself as if from without,
the wish quite naturally follows that from that point of view one will be able to see oneself
and one's life as good, valuable, and a rightful source of pride.

57. Still, the strength of that wish, and the peculiarly poignant feelings that can accompany it
seem to me to involve something further, that, I suggest, is related to our social natures, and
to our need or wish not to be alone.

58. Contemplation of one's mortality or of one's cosmic insignificance can call up the sort of
feelings I have in mind. The thought that one's life is like a bubble that, upon bursting, will
vanish without a trace can lead some people to despair. The thought that one lives in an
indifferent universe makes some people shudder. Reminding oneself of the fact, if it is a fact,
that one is actively and, we may stipulate, somewhat successfully, engaged in projects of
independent worth may put these feelings to rest. By living in a way that is partly occupied
by and directed toward the preservation or promotion or creation of value that has its
source outside of oneself, one does something that can be understood, admired or [29]
appreciated from others' points of view, including the imaginary point of view of an
impartial indifferent observer. 14

59. The fact that the feature focused on by the Fitting Fulfillment View can have bearing on our
reactions to thoughts about the human condition, that it can even offer some solace to
those who are distressed when they think about our insignificance, gives some support to
the idea that this feature is reasonably identified with “meaningfulness,” since it makes the
association between meaningfulness and the age-old philosophical topic of "the meaning of
life" more than a coincidence.

60. A longing for fulfillment, and an admiration for lives engaged in projects that are fitting for
fulfillment, are not restricted to times when we are especially cognizant of the human
condition, however. Even when we are not thinking about our relation to the cosmos, we
may intelligibly want to do something whose value extends beyond its value for us. Indeed,
even if we never explicitly formulate a desire that our lives be connected to something of
independent value, the unarticulated sense that we are so connected may affect the quality
of our experience. The feeling of being occupied with something of independent value, the
engagement in an activity that takes one out of oneself, it seems to me, can be thrilling.
Why? At least part of the reason, again, seems to be related to our social natures, and our
desire not to be alone. If we are engaged in projects of independent value – fighting
injustice, preserving a historic building, writing a [30] poem – then presumably others will be
able to appreciate what we are doing, too. Others may actually appreciate what we are
doing, or they may at least appreciate the same values as the ones that motivate us. This

13
See especially Thomas Nagel, The View from Nowhere (New York: Oxford University Press, 1986).
14
Of course, there is no guarantee that such a thought will put the feelings in question to rest. Many people are upset by
the thought that they are mere specks in a vast universe. They are upset, that is, by their smallness, their inability to make
a big and lasting splash. My remarks – aimed at reminding them of the quality, not the quantity, of their contribution to the
universe – do not speak directly to this concern. Such people will just have to get over it. Their desire is unsatisfiable. For
further discussion of this topic, see my "The Meanings of Lives" (fn 12, above).
 pg. 81

makes us at least notionally part of a community, sharing values to some degree and a point
of view. Even when no one knows what we are doing, or when no one appreciates it,
however, the thought that it is worth doing can be important to us. The scorned artist or
lonely inventor, the scientist whose research no one seems to approve, may be sustained by
the thought that her work is good, and that the day may come when others will understand
and value it. 15

61. Although I have suggested that the desirability of living in a positive relation with something
the value of which does not depend solely on ourselves is related to our sociability, these
last examples show that the relation may be indirect, perhaps even metaphorical. People
who, for any number of reasons, cannot or do not wish to live around or be in intimate
contact with other people, may still live meaningful and fulfilling lives. Some artists, for
example, may make art for an only dimly conceived posterity. Conversely, for some people,
the support, approval, and admiration of their contemporaries is not enough to make them
feel fulfilled by what they are doing, or to judge their own lives as meaningful.

62. It may be suspected that the interests I am discussing are bourgeois interests, commonly of
concern only to persons from a certain place, time, and social class. Perhaps it will be [31]
thought that these concerns are confined to a class that is narrower still; namely, to those
who are excessively intellectual or unusually reflective. If one has to struggle to get enough
to eat for oneself and one's family, to get shelter from the cold, to fight a painful disease,
concern over whether one is engaged in projects of independent worth may seem a luxury.
The fact that an interest in a meaningful life may not surface until one's more basic needs
are met is no reason to dismiss its importance, however. Nor does it seem to me that the
fact that a person does not consciously articulate an interest in ensuring that some of the
projects or things with which his life is bound up can be judged to have independent worth is
enough to warrant the view that whether they have such worth is irrelevant to him. Bernard
Williams once wrote, with respect to the question of life's being desirable, that "it gets by far
its best answer in never being asked at all." 16 Similarly, I think, for a person whose life is
meaningful, the need to think about it might never come up. If a person is actively engaged
in valuable projects, he may be getting feedback from these projects that enhances his life
even if he is unaware of it.

63. Our interest in being able to see our lives as worthwhile from some point of view external to
ourselves, and our interest in being able to see ourselves as part of an at least notional
community that can understand us and that to some degree shares our point of view, then,
seem to me to be pervasive, even if not universal. By engaging in projects of independent
value, by protecting, preserving, creating, and realizing value the source of which lies outside
of ourselves, we can satisfy these interests. Indeed, it is hard to see how we could satisfy
them in any other way.

64. [32] Reflecting on the pervasiveness of these interests, and on the way a life of "fitting
fulfillment" answers to them will, I hope, support both my proposal that meaningfulness is a
matter of active and loving engagement in projects of worth and my claim that this feature,
distinct from both happiness and morality, deserves to be included in a conception of a fully

15
These remarks, I think, add to the plausibility of interpreting popular references to being involved in something "larger
than oneself" in terms of the idea that one should be engaged with a value that has its source outside of oneself. The
thought is that such a value exists metaphorically in a public space – it is accessible to others, and so makes one at the least
a potential member of a community that is larger than oneself.
16
Bernard Williams, "The Makropulos Case: Reflections on the Tedium of Immortality," in Problems of the Self (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1973) 87.
 pg. 82

successful human life.

65. For much of this lecture, I have stressed the subjective aspect of a meaningful life – that is,
the aspect that assures a meaningful life of being fulfilling, and to that extent feeling good.
This emphasis brought out what my view of meaningfulness has in common with the more
popular Fulfillment View (the view that says one should find one's passion, and go for it) and
allowed me easily to demonstrate one way in which a meaningful life was good for the
person who lives it. When we consider what deep human interests or needs a meaningful
life distinctively answers to, however, the objective aspect of such a life needs to be
stressed. Our interest in living a meaningful life is not an interest in a life feeling a certain
way, but rather an interest that it be a certain way, specifically, that it be one that can be
appropriately appreciated, admired, or valued by others; 17 that it be a life that contributes
to or realizes or connects in some positive way with independent value. We do not satisfy
those interests simply by thinking or feeling that they are satisfied any more than we can
satisfy our interest in not being alone by thinking or feeling that we are not alone. To have a
life that not only [33] seems meaningful but is meaningful, the objective aspect is as
important as the subjective.

66. Many questions about this conception of meaningfulness and its importance remain,
however. In particular, I have not yet addressed, or even so much as acknowledged, the
resistance many readers are no doubt feeling toward my references to objective value, or to
the corresponding view that some activities or projects are more fitting than others to be
the objects of one's life's central passions. I shall begin the next lecture by responding to
these concerns. Let me warn you in advance, though, that I shall not be offering a theory of
objective value, much less a foolproof procedure for determining which things have it. In
light of this, one might reasonably wonder why I bother to bring up the subject at all. The
remainder of the second lecture will be aimed at answering that question. By the end of the
second lecture, then, I shall have tried to convince you not only of what meaning is, but also
of why it matters.

17
This is not unrelated to the interest in our actions being "justifiable to others" that Thomas Scanlon stresses in his
account of the motivation and reason to be moral. See, e.g., T. M. Scanlon, What We Owe To Each Other (Cambridge:
Harvard University Press, 1998). The interest I have in mind, to which meaning rather than morality answers, however, is
broader, embracing not only the possible points of view of one's fellow human beings, but the imaginable point of view of
an even more external, nonhuman observer.