The Complete Works of Plato

“For how could it not,” he said, “be that he who is such a one should also resemble those who are such; while he who is not, does not resemble them?”

“Well said.”

“Therefore, each of them is such as that which he resembles.”

“But what else would he be?” he said.

“Well then, Thrasymachus, do you call someone musical?”

“I do.”

“And someone else unmusical?”

“I do.”

“And whether one is wise, and the other unwise?”

“The musical man, I suppose, is wise; and the unmusical man, unwise.”

“And is not that which is wise, good; and that which is unwise, bad?”

“Yes.”

“And what about someone medical? Is it not the same?”

“It is.”

“Does it seem to you then, my excellent friend, that a musical man, when tuning a lyre, would wish to outdo another musical man in the tightening and loosening of the strings, or would claim to have more?”

“Not I.”

“What about an unmusical man?”

“Necessarily,” he said.

“And what about a medical man, in eating or drinking, would he wish to outdo a medical man, either in man or in matter?”

“Certainly not.”

“But what about one who is not medical?”

“Yes.”

“Look, then, to all knowledge and ignorance generally: do you think that any person who is knowledgeable would wish to choose to do or say more than what another person who is knowledgeable does, rather than the same as one like himself, in the same action?”

“But perhaps,” he said, “it is necessary for this to be so.”

“And what about the ignorant man—would he not outdo both the knowledgeable man and the ignorant man alike?”

“Perhaps.”

“And the knowledgeable man is wise?”

“I say so.”

“And the wise man is good?”

“I say so.”

“Therefore, the good and wise man will not wish to outdo his like, but his unlike and opposite?”

“It seems so,” he said.

“But the bad and ignorant man will outdo both his like and his opposite?”

“It appears so.”

“Therefore, Thrasymachus,” I said, “our unjust man outdoes both his unlike and his like. Or did you not say so?”

“I did,” he said.

“But the just man will not outdo his like, but his unlike?”

“Yes.”

“It seems, then,” I said, “that the just man is like the wise and good, while the unjust man is like the bad and ignorant.”

“It is likely.”

“And yet, we were agreeing that each is such as that to which he is like.”

“We were agreeing indeed.”

“Therefore, the just man has appeared to us to be good and wise, and the unjust man ignorant and bad.”

Now, Thrasymachus agreed to all these things, not as I am now easily telling it, but being dragged along, and with difficulty, with an amazing amount of sweat, since it was also summer. And then I saw—though I had not seen it before—Thrasymachus blushing. But since we had agreed that justice is virtue and wisdom, and injustice is vice and ignorance, “Well then,” I said, “let this be settled. But we also said that injustice is strong, do you not remember, Thrasymachus?”

“I remember,” he said, “but what you are saying now does not please me, and I have things to say about these matters. If I were to speak, I know well that you would say I am making a public speech. So, either allow me to say what I wish, or if you wish to ask, ask; and I will answer you just like the old women who tell tales, ‘well,’ and I will nod and shake my head.”

“By no means,” I said, “contrary to your own opinion.”

“Just as it pleases you,” he said, “since you will not let me speak. And yet, what else do you want?”

“Nothing, by Zeus,” I said, “but if you are going to do this, do it. I will ask.”

“Ask, then.”

“This, then, is what I ask, just as before, so that we may examine the argument in order: of what nature is justice compared to injustice? For it was said, I believe, that injustice is stronger and more powerful than justice.”

“But now,” he said, “if justice is wisdom and virtue, I think it will easily appear that it is also stronger than injustice, since injustice is ignorance; no one could still be ignorant of this. But I do not desire it in such a simple way, Thrasymachus, but to examine it in this way: would you say that a city is unjust, and attempts to enslave other cities unjustly, and has enslaved them, and holds many in slavery under itself?”

“For how could it not?” he said.

“And this the best city will do most of all, being the most perfectly unjust?”

“I understand,” I said, “that this was your argument. But I am considering this about it: whether the city that becomes superior to a city will possess this power without justice, or if it is necessary for it to be with justice.”

“If,” he said, “as you were saying just now, justice is wisdom, it is with justice; but if as I was saying, with injustice.”

“I greatly admire you, Thrasymachus,” I said, “that you do not only nod and shake your head, but also answer very well.”

“I am doing it for your sake,” he said.

“You do well; but…”