Socrates vs. Meletus in Plato's Apology
What did Socrates achieve in his dialogue with Meletus?
The dialogue between Meletus and Socrates from 24c4–28a1 of Plato’s Apology represents something of a microcosm of the dynamic between the Socrates’ Athenian accusers and his philosophic way of life. As his principal accuser, Meletus is a natural target for Socrates; discredit the accuser, discredit the accusation. But this dialogue is much more than a mere ad hominem attack. Plato’s depiction of it allows some clear insights into the convictions of the interlocutors: Meletus’ wariness of Socrates’ philosophic craftiness is evident, as is Socrates’ low opinion of false pride. Socrates’ motives, however, are less clear. Indeed, we should be careful not to assume that Socrates’ only goal in labelling Meletus as a wrongdoer (adikei) (24c5) is to get himself acquitted. Plato’s representation of his speech suggests additional aims: to make a defence of philosophy among non-philosophic people, to juxtapose the dialectic mode of communication with the rhetorical one, to demonstrate the irrationality of the widespread prejudice against him. This dialogue, the only place in the Apology where we can observe the dynamic between Socrates and his accuser, provides a uniquely compelling picture of Socrates’ motivations in his speech.
Before coming to the dialogue itself, let us take note of Socrates’ first reference to Meletus in his argument. This naming of Meletus occurs when he outlines the general accusation (kategoria) which has given rise to slander (diabolè) which has “encouraged Meletus to proceed against me” (19b1-2). There seems to be an implication here that Meletus is taking advantage of popular opinion to accuse Socrates rather than making his accusation on the basis of pure principle; right away, Socrates brings Meletus’ integrity into question. He relays the general accusation against him like this:
“Socrates is a criminal (adikei) and a busybody, investigating the things beneath the earth and in the heavens and making the weaker argument stronger and teaching others these same things.” (19b4-c1)
In relaying this general accusation, Socrates seems to take care to highlight that the widespread Athenian displeasure with him (a feeling pounced upon by Meletus) is in large part on account of his unique and disruptive philosophic way of thinking and communication. His dialectical mode of communication (as opposed to a rhetorical one) prefers to prod and pry—to “investigate”—rather than to impress. His starting point is the presumption of his own ignorance, rather than a self-proclaimed wisdom. This philosophic way of life which he represents is portrayed as something of a threat to the established Athenian mores, a culture embodied in Socrates’ mind by their pride and their ostentatious rhetoric. Indeed, in order to defend their honour against claims that they and those like them have been exposed as pretending to have knowledge they simply do not have (23d9), Meletus, Lycon and Anytus attack Socrates with persuasive speeches (17a3) and vehement slanders (23e2), lashing out against the man who makes “the weaker argument stronger,” who refuses to fall in line.
(Picture: Socrates Address by Louis Joseph Lebrun)
After his account of his Delphic quest (the key outcome of which was to expose the common hamartēma (22d5) of the Athenian politicians, poets and artisans, namely their presumption of the possession of human wisdom) Socrates characterises the accusation made against him as based on generalities, arguing that it lacks any real substance. He claims that whenever his accusers are asked why they call him “a most abominable person” who “is corrupting the youth” (23d1-2),
“they have nothing to say, but they do not know, and that they may not seem at a loss they say these things that are handy to say against all philosophers, “the things in the air and the things beneath the earth” and “not to believe in the gods” and “to make the weaker argument the stronger.”” (23d2-7)
In short, Socrates is claiming that the accusations brought against him are baseless, deriving more from a common feeling among Athenians that there is something fishy about philosophy than from any real crime. Not only that, Socrates is putting his finger on a kind of cancerous pride which he perceives throughout Athens, a pride which leads men to be “jealous of their honour” (philotimoi) (23d9-e1) rather than to pursue authentic goodness. Socrates’ determination to expose the vacuous high self-regard which seems so prevalent among the Athenians, a mindset he sees as a kind of slumber, is a crucial element not only of his self-defence, but of his defence of philosophy more broadly.
Let us turn our attention, then, to the dialogue between Meletus and Socrates, a section of the speech in which Socrates turns to his customary dialectical mode of communication, a mode distinct to the rhetorical approach more familiar to his accusers. Socrates begins by referring to Meletus as a “good (agathon) and patriotic (philopolin) man, as he himself says” (24b5), immediately implying that Meletus holds the same attitude as those men he encountered on his Delphic quest; Meletus thinks of himself more highly than he ought. By aligning Meletus with these men, Socrates brings into question the legitimacy of his goodness and patriotism, thereby casting doubt on whether the accusations brought by him are either good or truly have the Athenian city’s best interests at heart.
He proceeds by laying out Meletus’ accusation, summarising it thus:
“It states that Socrates is a wrongdoer (adikein) because he corrupts (diaphtheironta) the youth and does not believe in the gods the city believes in, but in other new spiritual beings (daimonia kaina). (24b8-c1)
This accusation is notably different to that outlined in 19b, though there is an implicit connection between “teaching others these same things” there and “corrupts the youth” here. Importantly, however, there is another similarity between this account of the accusation and the one brought in 23d. There, Socrates surreptitiously included in his account of the accusation that philosophers like him are often quickly thought “not to believe in the gods” (i.e. are atheists), whereas here in 24b the accusation is that Socrates “does not believe in the gods the city believes in”. This is no minor distinction; its relevance will become significant as we continue our examination of this dialogue.
Before handling the accusation directly, Socrates makes explicit his originally implicit ad hominem attack of Meletus, articulating his ostensible purpose in conducting this cross-examination. He flips the very charge that has been made against him onto Meletus: “I say Meletus is the wrongdoer” (adikein phemi Meleton) (24c5). He accuses him of making light of serious matters, of being too quick to bring people to trial (an act disrespectful to the court), and of “pretending to be zealous and concerned about things for which he never cared at all” (24c7-8). In short, Socrates is saying that Meletus has brought about this trial, an event which places demands on many people, all for his own glory. This accusation is likely to have provoked the ire of Meletus, an outcome that, as we will see, Socrates very well may have hoped would serve his purposes in the forthcoming dialogue.
Having established Meletus’ claim to care very much for the improvement of the youth, Socrates begins by asking him “who makes them better?” (24d3), placing this question alongside Meletus’ claim to “have found the one who corrupts them” (24d). After some pressing by Socrates, Meletus answers “the laws” (24d11). Socrates, however, does not accept this answer, instead wanting to know “what man, who knows in the first place just this very thing, the laws” (24e1-2, my italics).
The implications of the words of both parties here have significance. Is Meletus unreasonable to have answered Socrates’ question the way he did? Should the laws not be upheld as the fundamental educator in matters of morality in civil society? Despite the fact that Socrates is backing him into a corner, his response seems entirely reasonable, especially in Athens. What is perhaps more significant is Socrates’ response. By pressing Meletus to say “what man,” Socrates seems to imply that the laws are made by human hands, and, by extension, not through the influence of either natural law or divine guidance. There is therefore something irreverent in Socrates’ suggestion that men count more than the law: they are somehow able to operate independently of higher instruction. Whether this irreverence would have been apparent to the jurors right away is not clear, but Plato is evidently portraying a subtle distinction between the Socratic and Athenian worldview.
(Picture: The Death of Socrates by Jacques-Louis David)
In response to Socrates, Meletus eventually states that every Athenian—judges, listeners, senators and citizens alike—is able to instruct the youth and make them excellent, and that it is Socrates alone who corrupts them (24e-25a). At first glance, it seems absurd that Meletus would hold this position. How could it be possible for every Athenian to have the capacity to improve the youth? Socrates seems to have successfully goaded him into a moment of flattery of the audience, something which further calls into question Meletus’ trustworthiness. In actual fact, however, Meletus’ response is the necessary one for anyone who believes in democracy. The democratic system is predicated on this very notion: that it the falls to every citizen to participate in society, a key part of which is the improvement of the youth. To say otherwise, as Socrates is about to do, would somehow be to call into question the legitimacy of this system and to betray, whether consciously or unconsciously, an anti-democratic sentiment.
Employing the analogy of a horse trainer, Socrates rebuts Meletus’ response that every Athenian has the capacity to improve the youth. As with horses, which are improved by one person (a horse-trainer) and would be injured by the many, so with the youth, says Socrates. In other words, there is such a thing as an expert in mankind. Not only that, but he claims that for Meletus to contend that the improvement of the youth—that is, education—does not require some special expertise demonstrates that he “never thought about the youth” (25c1-2). This rebuttal seems to suggest a fundamentally anti-democratic sensibility on the part of Socrates. His line of argument indicates his belief that knowledge is necessary for goodness, as opposed to the Athenian position that democracy itself is enough for goodness to proliferate. There is no question that Plato, as he did with Socrates’ irreverence for the laws, took care to highlight this distinction. It would be reasonable to conclude, then, that although Socrates is certainly aiming to discredit Meletus’ reliability in matters of education, he is not seeking exclusively to please the jurors. This is a crucial point – Socrates is decidedly not interested in betraying his convictions and his philosophical way of life for the sake of an acquittal. Perhaps an aim of this speech, then, is to resolutely humiliate his accusers without betraying his convictions, whether or not that will lead to his acquittal.
Staying with this first charge, Socrates now argues that even if he has corrupted the youth, he cannot be held accountable for his crime. He says so on the basis that were he to be corrupting these youth with whom he has been spending his time, he would be exposing himself to harm from the very corruptness with which he infected them (25e), and, given no one prefers to be injured than to be benefitted (25d3), he must therefore be corrupting them involuntarily (26a). We might call this Socrates’ plea for ‘no-fault-corruption’, an argument which relies on a dialectical fleet-footedness only Socrates could make appear logical. Indeed, in a judicial sense, this is a manifestly weak argument; criminal action as well as motive must be considered in a guilty verdict.
(Picture: Portrait of Socrates by Lysippos)
Given its fragility, why does Socrates make this argument at all? One possibility is that he is seeking to avoid discussing the nature of the corruption altogether. The accusation of corruption is, of course, predicated on the notion that Socrates’ philosophising is intrinsically bad and therefore harmful to the city. This seems to be on the basis that it gives the youth the gifts of philosophical criticism which will allow them skilfully to call into question various customs and institutions in Athens, thereby threatening its stability. Naturally, Socrates does not hold this view; in fact, it would be reasonable to assume that he would argue that philosophy is the most important thing of all, and that it is only ‘bad’ for flawed ideas and false pride. Nevertheless, he seems determined not to allow the dialogue to become an argument about the virtue of philosophy at this juncture. Perhaps Socrates simply does not think it expedient to allow this dialogue to become a debate about what constitutes ‘good’ and ‘bad’ for the city, and would rather attack charges themselves through dialectical slights of hand than to investigate the ideas upon which they are predicated. In any case, Plato seems to be continuing to portray Socrates as walking something of a tightrope between making a persuasive argument and defending philosophy in an expedient but honest manner.
Before we come to Socrates third and final attack on Meletus’ accusation, let us consider Plato’s characterisation of Meletus heretofore. The most distinct factor of this characterisation is the brevity of Meletus’ responses to Socrates’ questions. In fact, he says fewrt than seventy words in the 163 lines that the dialogue spans. In particular, his initial responses to Socrates are very brief: egawge (24d2), hoi nomoi (24d11), houtoi, o Socrates, hoi dikastai (24e2), malista (24e6), apantes (24e8). This brevity is likely on account of a combination of two factors––namely, the formality of the judicial setting and Meletus’ wariness of Socrates’ ability to trap his interlocutors with their own words. As the dialogue continues, however, it is reasonable to assume that Meletus would have become increasingly exasperated by Socrates, particularly at being accused of being unqualified to speak in matters of education or the court. The reality of this exasperation will be borne out in the very next section of the dialogue.
And so we come to Socrates’ third and final angle of attack of Meletus’ accusation, the one towards which I suggest he has been building all along. Socrates connects the two elements of the charge—corrupting the youth and not believing in the gods the city believes in—by asking Meletus whether he corrupts the youth precisely “by teaching them not to believe in the gods the city believes in, but in other new spiritual beings?” (26b3-5). Having received an answer in the affirmative, Socrates homes in:
“For I am unable to understand whether you say that I teach that there are some gods, and myself then believe that there are some gods… or you say that I do not myself believe in gods at all and that I teach this unbelief to other people.” (26c1-6)
His aim here is clearly to continue to his ad hominem attack of Meletus by catching him in a self-contradiction, the crux of which is whether Socrates believes in other, novel gods or in no gods at all; these options are mutually exclusive. We must bear in mind that Socrates has been deliberately baiting Meletus with his first two arguments, employing dialectical flair to make him look foolish, thereby provoking him to anger and rash speech. Falling right into the trap laid by Socrates, Meletus hastily retorts, “That is what I say, that you do not believe in the gods at all (parapan).” (26c7). Socrates wastes no time in highlighting Meletus’ self-contradiction, saying that just as there is no one who does not believe in horses yet does believe in things pertaining to horses, it cannot be possible for someone to believe spiritual things exist without believing in spirits (27c1-3) which are themselves a kind of “illegitimate children of gods” (27d1-2). How therefore can Meletus accuse him of both atheism and of believing in gods the city does not believe in?
As it becomes evident to everyone assembled that Socrates has succeeded in leading his accuser into a self-contradiction, Plato gives us clear indications of Meletus’ rising indignation. First, Socrates says, “this man appears to me, men of Athens, to be very violent (hubristes) and unrestrained (akolastos), and actually to have brought this indictment in a spirit of violence and unrestraint and rashness (neoteti)” (26e8-9) – he calls him juvenile. Socrates also appeals to the audience to have Meletus answer his questions rather than “make a disturbance in one way or another” (27b5); Meletus must have been interrupting and objecting in his exasperation. Not only that, but we can see that Meletus also maintained a seething silence several times in this section of the dialogue: “Thank you for replying reluctantly when forced by these gentlemen” (27c4); “since you do not answer” (27c10). It is evident that Socrates has succeeded in provoking Meletus to such an extent that he has become manifestly angry, undermining his purported ability to make a considered accusation against anyone.
(Picture: The Death of Socrates by Giambettino Cignaroli)
That Meletus would allow himself to be caught in such a contradiction almost beggars belief. Having been so guarded in his speech to begin with, how could he fall prey to Socrates’ tricks at the last hurdle? It is possible, of course, that he is simply an ill-tempered man who was so painfully nibbled by the gadfly Socrates that he had an outburst. I think the truth, however, requires more explanation. All along, Socrates has made the claim that Meletus is one of many people who have a profound but unfounded suspicion of philosophy based on prejudice (diabolè) and dislike (phthonos) rather than on anything substantive. Put another way, Socrates frames his accusers as being driven by—indeed, as slave to—their emotions, a city of mind juxtaposed all along with his own philosophical tranquillity. He places his own rationality against his accusers’ irrationality, embodied in Meletus’ irascibility.
Doubtless, Meletus would have recognised this very dynamic becoming apparent to everyone watching, the reality of which would have made it all the more difficult for him to check his emotions. Had he possessed more confidence in the defensibility of his accusation, I doubt he would have become so irrationally irate. Given, however, that his accusation against Socrates was brought on the basis of a nebulous prejudice rather than a specific crime, it is no wonder that he was unable to prevent himself from being overcome by Socrates’ ferocious philosophical rationality.
It is with a subtle triumphalism, then, that Socrates abruptly concludes his interrogation of Meletus, simply saying,
“that I am not a wrongdoer (adikaw) according to Meletus’ indictment (graphen), seems to me not to need much of a defence (apologias), but what has been said is enough” (28a2-4).
The anger of Meletus, now manifest for all to see, represents “that great hatred (apektheia)” which “has arisen against me and in the minds of many persons” (28a5), says Socrates. The accusations brought against him are caused by “the prejudice (diabolè) and dislike (phthonos) of the many” (28a7-8) rather than any substantive accusation of wrongdoing against the city.
Was this dialogue a success for Socrates? If success was dependent solely on his acquittal, then the answer is evidently a resounding, “No!” If, however, we consider his more implicit aims in this dialogue, the answer is quite different. On one hand, Socrates successfully manoeuvred Meletus in such a way that his accusation appeared weak, unsubstantiated and based entirely on prejudice. Indeed, so successful was he in deconstructing both Meletus’ motivations and accusation that he goes so far as to say, “I think, so far as Meletus is concerned, I have even now been acquitted” (35e7). Importantly, he did so without betraying his own convictions about the laws and democracy.
On other hand, and perhaps more importantly, by forcing his accuser to participate in his dialectical mode, he juxtaposed in front of the Athenian assembly the prejudicial and the philosophical way of life. Where Meletus had previously relied on rhetoric to persuade, to impress and to bring himself into high regard, Socrates utilises the dialectic form to remove the style that belied Meletus’ lack of substance. In doing so, he challenges the assembly to recognise the danger which faces Athens at large if, as with Meletus and his rhetoric, it is satisfied with its own grandiosity instead of questioning, investigating and improving in truth and goodness. In this way, Socrates makes a compelling defence not just of himself but of the philosophical way of life, leaving the jurors to question whether this man who has aroused such angst in Athens is such a wrongdoer after all.
References
Plato. Plato in Twelve Volumes, Vol. 1 translated by Harold North Fowler; Introduction by W.R.M. Lamb. Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann Ltd. 1966.