Mill was one of the most rock-and-roll guys of the nineteenth century. He learned to speak Ancient Greek before he was three years old. Apparently, his first words were ‘The pain has abated somewhat’. By the time he was eight, he was reading the old geometers in Latin. He was a better philosopher and economist than I will ever be by the time he exited puberty.

Mill’s father had put him through this education. Not surprisingly, Mill had a nervous breakdown when he left home. He recovered, though, and became a women’s-lib and anti-slavery writer, an eminent philosopher, political thinker, Member of Parliament, and cultivator of third-degree sideburns. He married his lifelong sweetheart when he was 45.

Utilitarianism, Chapter 2

Most people define utility as ‘useful’. Every utilitarian from Epicurus to Bentham has thought, instead, that utility means pleasure. That is its definition. ‘Utility’ does not mean something useful for pleasure—it is pleasure. The useful is the pleasurable.

The foundation of utilitarianism is this one rule, the Greatest Happiness Principle. It says this: actions are right in proportion as they tend to promote happiness, wrong as they tend to produce the reverse of happiness. By happiness is intended pleasure, and the absence of pain; by unhappiness, pain, and the privation of pleasure.

Pleasure and freedom from pain are the only things people really want. Everything else we want because it brings us pleasure or prevents pain.

Of course, many smart people think that I am wrong. They think that this is a doctrine for pigs. They think that it is a philosophy of crassness and simplicity.

But Epicurians and utilitarians respond: our critics are the ones who think that people only get pleasure from getting stuffed and having sex. We think that many noble things are pleasant: intellect, sentiment, emotions, imagination, and morality are all pleasant. These are not the base pleasures of pigs at all.

I admit, though, that utilitarians could have done a better job of explaining this. We have said the intellectual goods are better only because the bodily goods are fleeting or expensive. That is not true.

Some types of pleasure are of higher quality than other types. There are some pleasant things that we would never trade for any amount of another pleasant thing. It is a matter of quality against quantity. The quality of some wonderful things is different. No sane person, for instance, would want to get rid of their intellect and be changed into an animal, even for all of the beast’s pleasures. No ethical person would be selfish, stupid and base, even if it came with advantages. Everyone prefers the noble pleasures of intellect, imagination and morality to the crude pleasures of the body. Nobody would give up any tiny part of these higher pleasures for an infinite amount of lower pleasure.

Certainly, a smart person is harder to make happy and easier to make sad. However, no smart person would prefer to be stupid. Perhaps it is pride. Maybe it is love of liberty. I think that it is a sense of dignity that prevents smart people from wishing they were stupid.

It is better to be a human being dissatisfied than a pig satisfied; better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied. And if the fool, or the pig, are a different opinion, it is because they only know their own side of the question. The other party to the comparison knows both sides.

Of course, I know that some good, noble, educated people do succumb to lower pleasures. They do it because have weak characters, and it is only an exception. Of course, some young idealists become selfish, lazy, and obnoxious. This does not disprove my point. Sensitivity is like a tender plant, easily killed. We must all take care to ensure that our aspirations and our intellectual tastes are not damaged or destroyed when our way is blocked or our ambitions are thwarted by the workings of the world.

So it is settled. There are different types of pleasure, some higher, and some lower. As it turns out, though, this past discussion is not entirely necessary. The utilitarian standard is not our own happiness, but everyone’s happiness in total. The best actions lead to the greatest happiness of the best kind, keeping in mind all people.

Some people say that renunciation of all desire is preferable. First, they say, happiness is unattainable. Second, they ask, what right have you to be happy? A good point, I suppose. Well, even if we cannot be happy, we can be not unhappy. Further, a good life is not a life of constant bliss. It has its ups and downs. But only some of us have good life right now; the rest of us work in demonic industries and get no chance at happiness whatsoever.

Perhaps human beings, if they were taught to consider happiness for all their goal, would only want a small share of it. But great numbers of mankind have been satisfied with much less. There seem to be two parts of a satisfied life: tranquility and excitement. A cultivated mind, opened to the fountains of knowledge, takes interest in all of nature, art, poetry, history and the future.

It seems to me that every person born in a civilized country could have an intellectual life of pleasure. In a world in which there is so much of interest, so much to enjoy, and so much also to correct and improve, everyone who has this moderate amount of moral and intellectual ability is capable of a wonderful life. There is almost no great cause of human suffering that cannot be fixed if we put our minds to it.

Of course, nobody needs to be happy. The great bulk of us are not happy, even in the parts of the world not knee-deep in barbarism. In fact, being able to do without happiness is probably the best strategy to find it. Only that kind of attitude can make a person aware of the chances of life, and make him or her immune to ill fate and evil. The Stoics knew this well. They found happiness and tranquility in the worst days of the Roman Empire.

But again, it is not a person’s own happiness that matters. It is the happiness of all. A person should try to be an objective spectator. She should count herself and her own happiness as one among many. Jesus said to do as you would be done by, and to love your neighbour as yourself. That is our ideal, too.

Some people say that it is too hard to be a utilitarian. They think that it is impossible to act with society’s interests in mind all the time. That is a mistake: utilitarianism is a general rule that makes sub-rules. Motive, though, has nothing to do with the morality of an action. He who saves a fellow creature from drowning does what is morally right, whether his motive be duty, or the hope of being paid for his trouble. It is enough, too, to just keep in mind the people nearest the action you are considering. You do not need to consider, for instance, whether you are rescuing a saint or a monster from the water.

Some people say that utilitarians are cold. But the critics say this because we are interested only in the outcomes of an action, not who does the action. If the pope does wrong, we will say so. If Hitler did good, we would say so. In the long run, however, the best proof of a good character is good actions. On average, a good person will do good things; a bad person will do bad things. Sometimes, a good person will do a bad thing. We alone will say so.

Plato was Socrates’ best student. He was everything Socrates wasn’t: Socrates was poor, ugly, and wonderful. Plato was rich, handsome, and a total jerk.

Socrates did not write anything down, so Plato wrote things down for him. In fact, almost everything we know about Socrates comes from Plato’s writings. Plato made things complicated, though; some time after Socrates was killed, he started writing things that Socrates himself never said. In Plato’s later work, Socrates ends up saying things that contradict the what he said in places like The Apology.

In The Republic, for instance, Socrates says that he quite likes a good dictatorship and that there is nothing like a rousing bunch of executions to get a country focused. These are rather strange things to be saying for a man who was nearly killed when standing up to a tyrrany. We know, then, that Plato was putting words into Socrates’ mouth.

Still, The Republic is the 7th most important book in Western civilization (a scientific fact, I assure you). It is Plato’s masterpiece. It is also quite long, so what follows is a particularly crude shortening.

The Republic, Books 1-7

Book 1

Cephalus and Socrates are talking.
Cephalus: We are old friends, and you will be quite at home with us.

Socrates: I love conversing with aged men; they are travellers on the same path I will take. Let me ask you then: —Is life harder towards the end?
Cephalus: I will tell you, Socrates what my own feeling is. Old men often say to me, I cannot eat, I cannot drink; the pleasures of youth and love are gone. But this has not been my experience. Someone asked Sophocles whether he was still the man he had been, whether he still loved so strongly. He said “I am at peace. I have finally escaped the tyranny of love. I feel as if I had escaped from a mad and furious master.” Old age is calm and free if you let it be.

That’s good, Cephalus. But are you only happy because he you are rich and comfortable?

I’ve done quite well, but no. I am happy for other reasons. I don’t love money that much.

That was why I asked you the question, because I see that you are indifferent about money. People who inherit money do not care about it. People who make their money love money too much. They’re bad company. If you do not worry about money, what do you worry about?

I worry that my sins will catch up with me. Wealth allows us to not harm or defraud others to get ahead. Paying debts and speaking truth: These are justice, and these are the greatest benefits of wealth.

Well said, Cephalus! But this can’t be justice—to speak the truth and to pay your debts. Suppose that a friend gives me a weapon when he is sane. Then he comes back, all crazy, and asks for his weapon back. Should I give it back to him? No one would say that I should. No one would say that I should tell him the truth, either.

You are quite right.

But then, speaking the truth and paying your debts is not a correct definition of justice.

I fear that I must go now, for I have to look after the sacrifices, and I hand over the argument to the company.

Socrates and Glaucon are talking

Glaucon: Listen, Socrates. Justice is whatever a powerful person says it is.

Socrates: Let me first understand you. Justice is whatever powerful person says it is? You cannot mean that because a powerful athlete likes eating raw meat that raw meat is good for everyone.

Oh, do not be an idiot Socrates. Do you not know that there are democracies, tyrannies, and aristocracies?

Yes, I know.

And these kinds of government make their own laws. The government has the power, makes the laws, the laws favour the rulers, and the laws say what is just or unjust. Everywhere there is one principle of justice, which is the interest of the stronger. Might makes right. The powerful rule to keep themselves in power.

Now we are both agreed that justice is interest of some sort, but you go on to say ‘of the stronger’. I am not so sure. Let me ask you some questions.

Proceed.

Subject should obey their rulers, right? Do you agree that this is justice?

I do.

But rulers now and then make mistakes, do they not?

Of course they do.

Then sometimes the rules are correct, and sometimes they are incorrect?

True.

And when the rules are correct, the rules are in the interest of the rulers. When the rules are incorrect, they go against the interests of the rulers?

Yes.

And in either case, the rules have to be followed by their subjects?

Doubtless.

Then justice, according to your argument doing what is good for the rulers, and what is bad for the rulers?

What are you saying?

I am only repeating what you are saying, I believe. You said two things: that rulers make mistakes, and that following the rules is justice.

Yes, I did.

Then you must also have acknowledged that justice is not following the interests of the stronger, because when rulers unintentionally command things that hurt themselves, the subjects are supposed to follow the rules. So justice, sometimes, is hurting the powerful. We are certainly a long way from where we started, when you said that justice is doing whatever benefits the powerful.
Book 2

Socrates, Glaucon and Adeimantus are talking

Glaucon: There is a fable I know. It is about Gyges. He was a good man, at least until he found a ring when he was out taking care of his sheep. The ring made him invisible whenever he put it on. You can guess what happened: he took advantage of his new power and became evil, marrying the queen, killing the king, and all of that stuff. I think that this proves that vice is pleasant and that virtue is unpleasant. Prove to us that virtue is better than vice. Prove to us that it is in our own interest to be just, in other words.

Socrates: Since we’re not doing very well, let’s take the approach a short-sighted person takes. Let’s make the letters we’re trying to read much larger. Let’s start with something big, then come back to this small thing. People are just and states are just. We should start looking at justice in the state and come back to justice for the person.

Adeimantus: Sounds good.

But it would be hard to find a perfect state—I mean, look around! We should imagine a perfect state. That might be hard, but don’t you think it’s worth it?

I certainly do!

It seems to me that people live in communities because they need to specialize. People are good at different things, and when we trade, we all benefit.

That sounds right.

So in our imaginary state, we’ll need farmers and peasants, and artisans and businesspeople. We’ll need people to weave clothing and raise cattle. We’ll need labourers and other people too. But things will be pretty simple.

I agree.

We will produce corn, and wine, and clothes, and shoes, and build houses . And in the summer, our people will be stripped and barefoot, but in the winter they will have good clothes and shoes. They will eat plain food, and homemade bread and cakes. These they will serve up on a mat of reeds or on clean leaves, themselves reclining upon simple beds. They will feast now and then, with their children, on the food and wine they made, wearing garlands on their heads, and praising the gods. They will be happy, and careful, keeping an eye on poverty and war.

Glaucon: But they live so plainly! That’s not exciting! People want wine, and furniture and prostitutes.

Socrates: Well, I like my state. It seems like the natural one. But I guess we can consider yours, too, Glaucon. In your state, if we’re going to be entertained, we’ll need actors, and tutors. We’ll have to have poets and dancers and the like. That means that we will be envied by other countries, and that we will need the resources of other countries, too. So we will go to war.

Yes, that is true.

So we will need specialized soldiers. And I have to tell you, this makes me worried. Soldiers are dangerous. We will want soldiers who are gentle with their friends and dangerous to their enemies. That combination is hard to find.

It is.

Our soldiers will be like dogs: loyal and dangerous at the same time. Dogs are true philosophers. A really good and noble guardian of the State requires wisdom and spirit and swiftness and strength.

How will we raise these soldiers?

It so happens that I have a few thoughts on the matter. They will need gymnastics to strengthen their bodies. Yet we cannot let them be taught in the usual way—look what that leads to: nothing but strife. I think that we will need to educate our youth differently. We will need to ensure that they never hear stories about gods quarreling. Stories of quarreling among gods only set a bad example for our children.

Book 3

Socrates: We will also need to make sure that the storytellers never mention that Hades is a terrible place. Our soldiers must not fear death. We also need to forbid:
Laughter
Gifts of money
Sentimental poetry
Making funny noises
Flutes
Complicated rhythms and harmonies
Sweet sauces
Corinthian women
All of these make our soldiers into sissies. Speaking of which, in order to be best protected, we should put our young guardians through trials and tribulations to see what they are made of. We’ll terrorize them, to separate the stronger ones from the weaker ones.

I agree.

And the strongest, best, and older ones will be separated. We should call these something else. They are guardians. The second-best ones, we should call ‘auxiliaries’.

Absolutely.

We should also try to come up with an explanation for this, to keep people happy. Otherwise they will get uncomfortable. People tend to not like division into classes, after all.

You are hesitating. Speak. Fear not.

Well, maybe we can have a royal lie. Citizens, we’ll say, you are brothers, yet God has framed you differently. Some of are made to command. God mingled gold into you. Others are made of silver. You will be auxiliaries. Others he made of brass and iron; you are to be peasants and craftspeople. Sometimes a golden parent will have a silver son, or a silver parent a golden son. You will have to hand your children up or down as nature requires. This is our story. Is there any possibility of making our citizens believe in it?

Not in the first generation. But sooner or later, maybe.

I have just a few more things to say. The soldiers should be kept separate. They should live communally. Everything they own should be communal, and not too fancy, so that nobody becomes jealous. The gold and silver people should be paid only the bare minimum. They should be well trained in music and gymnastics, but they should care only about the state, not about money and worldly success. Don’t you agree?

I certainly do.

Book 4
Adeimantus: But Socrates, why should the guardians be poor? Everyone else in town is happy. They are allowed to build large houses, party, and have private wealth. Aren’t the guardians suffering so that the rest of the state can be happy?

Socrates: Yes, you’re right. Also, they can’t have mistresses or take vacations. There are other things, too. Don’t forget the rest.

Adeimantus: Well, what about it?

Socrates: Well, we’ve made this state to make the whole state happy, not to favour one part. Suppose that we were painting a statue, and some one came up to us and said, “Why do you not put the most beautiful colours on the most beautiful parts of the body—the eyes ought to be purple, but you have made them black.” We would probably say, “Sir, you don’t paint everything beautifully, part by part. The whole thing has to be beautiful, and that requires balance.” It is the same thing with the republic. Everyone has to work at their jobs so that everyone will prosper. If we let the potters drink and relax, they won’t make pots. If we let the shepherds play flute all day, they won’t raise sheep. It is especially true of the guardians. They need to work at their job; the security of the whole state is in their hands. If the guardians and auxiliaries, and all others equally with them, do their own work in the best way, the State will grow up in a noble order, and the several classes will receive the proportion of happiness which nature assigns to them.

I think that you are quite right.

I wonder whether you will agree with another remark which occurs to me.

Tell me, what is it?

Truly, I said, we are stupid fellows.

Why so?

Well, we started off looking for justice. It fell right at our feet, and we just ignored it. We missed the forest for the trees.

What do you mean?

I mean we have been talking of justice for a long time, but we have failed to recognize it.

Oh, come on, Socrates! Out with it.

Remember when we said that each person should do one thing well?

Yes, we said that one man should do one thing only.

We also said that justice was doing your own business, and not being a busybody.

Yes, we said so.

Then let’s finish what we started. Remember we said that if we looked for justice on the large scale, that we might be able to see it on the small scale. We said that we would look for justice in the state to see what it is in the individual. Let’s apply what we learned to the individual now.

Go for it.

Well, the state is just when the three classes in it do their own business: when the rulers rule, the soldiers soldier, and the peasants peasant. And moreover, a state is best when the guardians have good intelligence, the auxiliaries are brave, and the peasants are hard working.

True, he said.

Well, it’s true of the individual, too! The soul has three parts, just like the state: Scythians are passionate people. Athenians love knowledge. Egyptians love money. We all have some kind of desire: let’s call this part of ourselves, “appetitive”.

Certainly.

But everyone also knows that the appetites can be excessive. We know from our intellects that drinking too much or loving money too much is a bad thing. Reason dictates rules for that we must try to follow.

Clearly.

It seems, then, that we have two parts: the rational and the appetitive.

Yes, and they are clearly different.

Are there any other parts of the soul?

I don’t know. I don’t think so.

Well, there is a story I remember. Leontius saw some dead bodies lying on the ground where they had been executed. He felt a desire to see them, and also an abhorrence of them. He struggled and covered his eyes for a while, but eventually, he ran up to the dead bodies and said “Look, you wretches, take your fill of the fair sight.”

I have heard the story myself.

The moral of the tale is this: sometimes we hate our desires. We are angry with what we want.

Yes. That’s the meaning.

Also, sometimes, when someone suffers an injustice, he boils and chafes. He wants revenge. Either he will get it, or his reason will quiet his anger.

Yes.

So, willpower is sometimes on the side of the intellect, and sometimes it is on the side of the appetites. Some get their willpower under the control of their intellects, while some have their willpower under control of their appetites. Some people’s willpower goes back and forth; that’s why they get angry with themselves. The anger comes from their will.

Exactly.

So, the state and the person have the same three parts: intellect or reason, will or spirit, and appetite. Excellence in one is the same as excellence in the other.

That follows, of course.

This is exactly as justice in the state was when each class did its own work.

Absolutely.

In summary, then, the rational principle, which is wise, should rule. The passionate or spirited principle should be its ally. And these two, brought together by a good education in gymnastics and music, should rule over the appetites. The appetites are the largest part of the soul the most insatiable.

That sounds perfect.

The best kind of person will have these three elements in friendly harmony. Reason leads. Spirit executes instructions, and the desires follow. Justice is the same in the person and the state: the rulers rule, the spirited parts are strong and effective, and the appetites follow orders. Each does its own role well and all work in harmony.

Clearly.

Book 5
Glaucon: What about women? You’ve spoken about men.

Socrates: They should do exactly the same thing as the men do. If they did, and if we didn’t keep them separate from us, they wouldn’t be so attractive and mysterious. Here’s why. Men can do everything a woman can do, right? We’re not as good at cooking and making jam, but we can do it.

You are quite right, women are generally inferior, but there are many women who are superior to many men at many things.

Nature has given us all the same skills. Men tend to be better at almost everything, but the skills are still there in women.

Very true.

Since men and women both have what it takes to be a guardian, we should let women try. If they are better at it than some men, there is no reason to prefer the worse man to the better woman.

Very true.

Remember how I said that all the property of the guardians is to be shared?

Of course.

Well, I didn’t want to mention it, but here’s one more thing I wanted to say. The wives of our guardians should be common, and their children should be common too. I don’t think parents should know whose child is whose. No children should know who their parents are, either.

That’s a pretty bold thing to say.

I know. But we’re just daydreaming. Let me explain why I think this is a good idea. Men and women are drawn together. We can’t stop that. We should try, though, to ensure that if men and women are going to mate that they do so for the greatest good of the state. The best should be mated with the best as much as possible, and the worse with the worse as little as possible.

Very true.

Nobody will like this, however, and I think we will again be forced to lie. We’ can have festivals to bring people together. We will have a lottery, and set men and women up with each other. It will seem random—but in secret, we will plan it all out so the best joins with the best.

Good idea.

When there are babies, we’ll take them away. The good ones we will keep. The bad ones will go to some secret, unknown place. The good babies will be raised by everyone together—that way every child will think every elder could be her father or mother, and every elder will see each youngster as his child.

Yes, that must be done.

I’ve saved my biggest idea for last. Until philosophers are kings, or the kings and princes of this world have the spirit and power of philosophy, and political greatness and wisdom meet in one, cities will never be free from evil.

That’s a big one.

Philosophers are lovers of the vision of truth. Only philosophers know the absolute and eternal and immutable. Everyone else sees only a portion of the absolute, eternal and immutable. They have mere opinion.

Book 6
Socrates: So it is clear, isn’t it Glaucon, that the state needs to be ruled by philosopher kings? Only they are able to grasp the eternal and unchangeable.

Glaucon: There can be no question of that.

Philosophers love truth. They hate illiberality. They detest meanness. And they are magnificent of mind and spectators of all existence.

Most true.

Philosophers will not be afraid of death nor will they love life. They will not be cowardly, boastful, or covetous. They will be harmonious. We should even be able to see these characteristics in youth.

True.

The philosopher will have a well-proportioned and gracious mind that will love learning and seek the truth of everything.

Yes he will.

And isn’t it true that the brightest and best youngsters are likely to be flattered early in life? And aren’t they likely to become lazy and vain, especially if their bodies are as beautiful as their minds?

Yes, certainly that is true.

True philosophers, then, are going to be very hard to find. The best and brightest will become lazy. The space they leave behind will be taken over by Sophists. No state is free from this kind of problem right now. The best are always ruined before they can reach their potential.

True enough.

That is why no state will be perfect until philosophers are compelled to rule, or until kings become philosophers.

Quite right.

Let’s review, then. The philosopher kings have to be patriotic. They have to be tested. The successful ones will come forth like gold is washed from the rock. The golden will receive rewards in life and after death. And now we say it clearly: the perfect guardian must be a philosopher.

Yes. Yes!

What does a philosopher study though?

Permanent things, I think we said. Isn’t that right, Socrates?

Yes, Glaucon. I’m going to try to explain something tricky. Try to keep up. Take a line and cut it into two unequal parts. Take each of those parts, and cut them again, unequally. On the bottom, in the smallest section, we have images, shadows, reflections, and stuff like that.

I understand.

Above that, we have animals and everything that is grown or made. Physical things.

Very good.

On the top two parts we have intellectual stuff.

Like what?

Well, the lower part is made up of the things we make hypotheses about. Above that, we have pure ideas.

I do not quite understand your meaning, he said.

You know how when people do geometry, how they draw triangles and circles ? They experiment with ‘this circle’ or ‘that triangle’, but they are trying to draw conclusions about every circle and every triangle.

I know about that.

Well, that’s what I’m referring to. We have images, physical things, sciency and geometric things (like circles and triangles) and one level above that. This top level, can only be reached by doing philosophy. It is the realm of truth. It is above hypothesis. It is permanent and perfect. It is a kind of intellectual heaven above the ideas of science and math.

Ok, I sort of get it. You are contemplating the big ideas, I think, when you get to this top level: what knowledge and being are. You are contemplating questions like what truth and goodness are. I sort of see it.

That’s right, Glaucon.

Book 7
Socrates: Imagine that there were prisoners in a cave. No, better: imagine that there a prisoner in a movie theatre. She has never been outside, and all she can see is the movie screen.

Glaucon: Sure. It’s strange, but I will try.

Imagine, too, that the movie projector is always on. Or at least it is every time the prisoner is awake. It shows different movies all the time. No credits, though.

Go on.

Well, our prisoner would come to see the same person a few times. She might see “Fight Club”, “Ocean’s Thirteen” and “Mr. and Mrs. Smith”. What do these movies have in common?

They are all bad?

Yes, especially “Fight Club”. But they all also have Brad Pitt in them. So our prisoner would see Brad a bunch of times and probably even come to recognize him. She might call him “Rat Face”.

She might, I guess.

She would. She would even think that she knows Rat Face. She would think that she knows a lot about him, after watching all those movies.

Right. What is your point?

She would know other people, too. She would know Julia Roberts and George Clooney. She would think she knew what real people were like from watching the screen. In her mind, people would be huge, and handsome, preternaturally witty, and well armed.

She certainly would.

Well, imagine, then, that we took her from the cinema and pulled her outside. After a lifetime inside, the daylight would be blinding. She would want to go back. If we kept her there, after a while, her eyes would adjust, and she would see that the real world is much different and much, much more real than the world of the cinema.

Certainly.

And if we wanted to send her back down into the cinema, she wouldn’t want to go. She would hate to go back down into the artificial world once she had seen the real world.

Sure.

Well, stay with me now, but I think that we are all like prisoners in the theatre.

What do you mean?

Well, we think we know what reality is, when in fact, we have been living in an artificial world.

Go on.

I’ve been trying to make an allegory. The cinema is the world of sight. We see things, and we think that they are the real world. Crawling out of the cinema into the bright light of day is the soul’s ascension into the intellectual world. This is the world of true knowledge.

Yes, I follow you.

Furthermore, the world of real knowledge, of certainty, and the world in the bright light is clear and unmistakable. Once we have seen it, we cannot be fooled. It hurts to see it at first, but we adjust, and our minds cannot be deceived a second time.

Sure.

Well, the way I see it, it goes like this: there are the images, like the image of Mr. Smith. He seems real, but he is not real. Then there are the objects that seem permanent but are not. In the cinema, that is Rat Face—or Brad Pitt, if you must. But in our lives, those are objects, like a horse, or a jug.

Go on.

Then, in the intellectual universe, there are the real objects. I call these “The Forms”. These are the really real things. These are things like horsiness or juginess, or humanness. These are the essences. Once we have perceived them, we know that they are the truth, and we can’t be mistaken about them. They are, more or less, the objects of scientific knowledge.

Sure. Is that it? Are there three levels to reality? I thought you said there were four.

There is one more. This is the top level of The Forms. There are some capital-I Ideas we need to understand the objects of science. We need to know some things like equality, unity, goodness, truth and beauty. These must be a higher level of reality, because we can compare Forms like horsiness and cowiness and see that they have something else in common. We can also compare Ideas like circularity and triangularity and see that they have some things in common. These things must be the most real of all.

If you say so, Socrates. But what does this have to do with our republic?

Well, Glaucon. The philosopher kings will have to keep their eyes on the Good, the Beautiful, and the Truth. This is what they should study if they are to lead the country. However, just like the woman in the cinema, once they have seen real reality, we can expect that they won’t be interested in stupid illusion. They won’t be interested in what the common people are worried about. We will have to compel them to care.

Yes, I see. How will we do this?

Through a good education, of course. The philosopher kings will have to be educated in music and gymnastics, as well as mathematics and geometry. Math and geometry make people wonder about the big things. They also require the use of pure intelligence. Math and geometry study the eternal and the perfect.

You are absolutely right.

But there is one more thing. Our philosopher kings will need to study dialectic and the art of philosophy. Only philosophy goes straight to The Forms of things. Only philosophy is concerned with the essence of a thing and the truth.

Wow, Socrates. This is good. Go over it one more time for me.

Sure. Reality is divided into four parts:

1. Ideas required for science
2. Ideas of science
3. Physical things
4. Images and representations

1 and 2 are the realm of The Forms. 3 and 4 are the realm of the physical world. The Forms are real, even though most people think the physical world is. The physical world is impermanent, while The Forms are permanent.

Great! That is so clear. But we have not really laid out a plan for our future philosopher kings. Explain that to me one more time.

Well, here is how I see it. We take the first generation of children and send their parents away ‘into the country’. Ahem. Then we educate the kids. For 20 years or so, we educate them in battle, horsemanship, and gymnastics. The best ones go onto the second stage. For 10 years, we educate them about the sciences. Again, we take only the best ones. For 5 years, we educate them about philosophy. Then, when they are 35 years old, we send them out to work for a while. They can work in the military or in politics. They do this until they are 50 or so. Finally, we take the best of the best, and teach them about the highest level of The Forms. We tell them how to govern. By this time, they should be concerned only with justice and fairness, and being the best rulers. They will not care about personal success; they will only care about being good.

Wow. You are a sculptor, Socrates. You have made our governors faultless.

Epicurus was the last of the Ancient Greek philosophers. He studied under Platonic philosophers as a young man, experimented as a Lesbosian in his early 30s, and finally moved to Athens, where he lived until his death.

Epicurus started a commune in Athens. People made fun of him, apparently, but they still came by quite a bit—no surprise, if you ask me, since ‘The Garden’ was the only school around to admit women and had a saying on the front door: “Stranger, hang out here. Pleasure is our highest good.”

Epicurus died because he couldn’t pee.

Principal Doctrines

1. It is blessed to not cause trouble for yourself or others. This will let you be free from anger and bias. These are signs of weakness.
2. Death is nothing to us. Once we become dissolved atoms, we don’t experience anything. We’re gone. Why worry if you can’t feel anything.
3. Maximum pleasure is feeling no pain.
4. Even the worst pains do not last long. In the long run, life is more pleasant than unpleasant, even if you have a nasty disease.
5. You have to be good to be happy. You have to be happy to be good.
6. It is good to be protected from other men.
7. Some people want to be famous so that they can be independent. If that works, then I approve. But I doubt that fame leads to independence.
8. All pleasures are good. Most pleasures, however, lead to disturbances that are worse than the pleasure. Stay focussed and do not get caught up in the pursuit of these pleasures.
9. If pleasures added up, then pleasures would never differ from one another. We need some pain to feel pleasure.
10. If wealth made people unafraid of death, disease, famine and war, then wealth would be good. If wealth taught people to be satisfied with a simple life, then I could not complain. But it does not.
11. We developed science to get rid of our fears of death, disease, famine and war.
12. Learning science helps us relax. Superstition leads to fear. You can only have pure pleasure if you know science.
13. You can’t enjoy wealth or security if you don’t understand science.
14. Wealth and power lead to security to some degree. But a quiet, solitary life is the best way to be secure.
15. The wealth required by nature is limited and is easy to procure; but the wealth required by vain ideals extends to infinity.
16. Wisdom frees you from being worried about what the future holds.
17. Being good means you won’t have to worry. If you are evil, you will always have to worry.
18. When needs are gone, bodily pleasure is just an assortment of minor variations. Mental pleasure, however, reaches its limit when we look back on how worried we were about those needs.
19. A short life is just as pleasant a life that never ends.
20. Your mind can limit your wants. You only need a little, but at first, everyone wants an unlimited amount. Stop worrying about the future. Try not to want the things you do not really need, and you will find you will not need to try everything. Limiting wants removes worries of death. And remember: even when you are dying, life is still pleasant.
21. You can’t always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you can get what you need.
22. Be scientific.
23. Don’t fight what you feel.
24. Be careful about what you admit to be true. If you doubt everything, you will end up nowhere. But if you do not doubt enough, you will end up muddled and making mistakes.
25. Make up your mind in advance about the things you should want. Then make everything you do a step towards those goals.
26. You do not need something unless you are in actual pain when that ‘need’ goes unfulfilled. If you are not in pain, then get rid of that want.
27. Wise people know that friendship brings the most happiness.
28. Friends will protect you against insecurity.
29. There are three kinds of want:
    natural and necessary,
    natural and unnecessary, and
    neither natural nor necessary.
30. Don’t be dumb: if you aren’t in actual pain without it, you don’t need it. You just think you do. Of course, a lot of people go through a lot of trouble to get things they don’t really need.
31. ‘Justice’ is really only a contract that I won’t hurt you and you won’t hurt me.
32. If you didn’t get it in writing, it is your own damed fault if you got ripped off. Don’t blame the other guy.
33. There is no one perfect set of laws. There are many imperfect systems of justice.
34. There is nothing inherently wrong with breaking the law, but it will make you unhappy because you will be afraid of getting caught.
35. Even good crooks get caught. They always have to worry.
36. The same thing can be just and unjust in different places.
37. Good laws make people happy. If a law stops making people happy, it is not a good law.
38. If a law never led to happiness, it was never just. If a law stopped leading to happiness, it stopped being just.
39. Powerful men can make everyone their friends. They can trust anyone, because they don’t need to be afraid. .
40. Secure people live pleasant lives. There is no need to mourn the death of someone who lived a peaceful life. There is nothing to pity.

Kant was, apparently, the most boring man to have ever lived. He wrote some good books, but he wrote them very badly. He is almost impossible to understand. He even wrote short guidebooks to his bigger books in the hope that his ideas would be more clear.

They’re not.

Still, Kant is one of the biggies. Here is my crude summary of his book Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals. This summary is far less accurate than even the rest of my work. In an effort to make him comprehensible, I’ve changed him quite a lot. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: don’t believe a word I say.

Groundwork

The only good thing is a good will. Intelligence, wit, courage and wealth can be abused. A good will cannot be abused. A good will shines like a jewel, even if bad luck foils the outcome. Imagine a girl wants to help a kitten but harms it instead. Everybody knows she did nothing wrong: she meant well. She had a good will. The consequences just do not matter.

Or, take another example, one I will use throughout this chapter. A young woman, Kathryn, wants to help at a soup kitchen on a weeknight. She volunteers there because it makes her happy to help other people. Kathryn also has a crush on a young man there. Many people take joy in being kind to others. They think that they are being good, and they congratulate themselves. I maintain that these people are simply selfish. They are not being good at all. That this woman is volunteering in a soup kitchen does not make her any less selfish than someone who takes no joy in these actions. Again, the intent matters, not the outcome.

Since we should not focus on consequences, we should focus on the reasons we act. The reasons (which I call ‘maxims’) are what make actions right or wrong, not the consequences. A maxim is a rule governing an action. Kathryn’s mother, for instance, might forbid her daughter to go out on a school night. If she does so out of love and respect for her child, her maxim might be ‘It is a duty to ensure one’s child gets a good education’.

Everything in nature works according to laws. Rational beings can act according to their conception of laws—that is, they can act according to principles. That is what having a will means. We can decide to act according to principles instead of being forced to act by natural laws like animals must. Practical reason is the faculty that allows us figure out what to do given those general principles.

It goes like this, then:

• There are universal laws. Practical reason figures out how we should act according to those laws.
• The will makes us do what we ought to
• This process of going from a universal law to an ‘ought’ is making imperatives.

Imperatives are these commands of reason. Imperatives are objective. Everyone agrees on them. However, sometimes our wills are weak, and sometimes we choose how to act out of selfishness or shortsightedness instead of doing what is rational. Nonetheless, it is clear what should have been done.

“Honour thy father and thy mother” may be a universal law (I will have more to say about this later). While deciding whether to go out and volunteer, Kathryn should deduce from this universal law that tonight she ought to stay home and do homework, as her mother insists. Kathryn sees that the commandment applies to her and that it applies tonight. She ought to stay home—this is the command of reason, or, in other words, the imperative.

There are two kinds of imperatives: categorical and hypothetical. Hypothetical imperatives are of this kind: if x then y. X is the goal. Y is the step to take. If you want a good job, go to school is an example of a hypothetical imperative. Categorical imperatives are ‘good in themselves’. They are the commands of the will in accordance with reason, which in turn is in accordance with the universal and objective laws. “Be good to your mother” is a categorical imperative. There’s something disgusting about saying “If you want a cookie, be good to your mother”. Everyone should always be good to their mothers.

If we could figure out exactly what would make us all happy, and if we could find the precise path to happiness, then we could create perfect hypothetical imperatives to follow. But when we try to do this, it is rather like the genie and the three wishes: wish for riches and you can have them, but the price will be the envy of your friends; wish for a long life, and you can have it—only it will be a long life of misery. It follows that these hypothetical imperatives cannot really command action at all. We might see the goal, but we cannot be certain which path will take us there.

A categorical imperative must be totally a priori. We must be very careful that we do not confuse hypothetical imperatives (like “If you don’t want to get in trouble later, don’t lie now”) with true categorical imperatives (like “Don’t lie”).

By definition, a categorical imperative applies to everyone and cannot be contradicted. If it cannot be contradicted and applies to everyone, there is only one categorical imperative: Act only according to that maxim whereby you can at the same time will that it should become a universal law.

All duties can be derived from this law. Here are a few:

1. A man would like to kill himself because his life is miserable. His maxim is this: “I should kill myself when life is more unpleasant than pleasant”. This cannot be a law of nature, though. Pleasantness stimulates life. It cannot both stimulate and destroy life. That is a contradiction.

2. A man would like to borrow money and not repay it. His maxim will be: I can break promises. This cannot be a universal law: a promise like this would not be a promise. That is a contradiction.

3. A woman would like to play Nintendo instead of being a contributing member of society. Her maxim: I will neglect my natural gifts. This cannot happen because a rational being wills that her gifts are developed.

4. A rich man does not want to give to charity. His maxim is this: let everyone keep what they make and make the best of it. But this cannot be a universal law; if he were poor, he would want someone to help him.

Some actions cannot be thought of as universal laws without leading to contradictions. That does not stop anyone from wanting an exception now and then. We want to get away with something we know is wrong. When we do, there is a contradiction in our own wills: we want the law, but do not want it for ourselves.

All rational things are ends-in-themselves. Nobody should be used as a means or a stepping stone to some other goal. Irrational beings, like logs or stones may have value as means. That is why they are called ‘things’. Rational beings, though, have absolute worth. They are not things. They are rational beings.

Every person thinks of herself as an end and worthy of respect. And every other rational being thinks the exact same thing. This, then, is an objective principle, just like the categorical imperative. Nobody disagrees with it. Accordingly, we can come up with a corollary of the categorical imperative. I call it the practical imperative. It is this: So act as to treat humanity, whether in thine own person or in that of any other, in every case as an end withal, never as means only. In short, treat everyone as an end, never as a means. Do not ever use someone else as a stepping stone to your own advantage.

If we look back on other ethical philosophies, it it easy to see why they failed. They all thought that people were bound by laws. They did not see that the only laws that people are bound to are the ones they make themselves. Every person must choose to follow these objective, categorical laws. In other words, every person must be her own lawmaker. But, as the laws are derived from the categorical imperative, they will be objective. In other words, everyone will agree to the laws. This results in a systematic union of common, objective laws. It results in a kingdom of ends. Of course it is only an ideal, not reality.

Still, when a woman is a member of the kingdom of ends, she gives laws, and she is subject to them at the same time. She is a queen who chooses to be a subject… subject to the laws. This is what freedom of will allows. Freedom of will lets us be lawmakers and law-followers at the same time.

Socrates is, without a doubt, the most important philosopher to have ever lived. In fact, he’s right up there with the most important people to have ever lived.

Socrates lived in ancient Greece, in Athens about 2500 years ago. Athens was a wonderful place to be alive at the time. It was democratic, wealthy, and full of parties, politics, drinking, and theatre. It was fabulous… as long as you were an Athenian man. Women were not so lucky, and everyone else was a slave. Still, it was a good time while it lasted.

Socrates was famous for bucking the Athenian ideals, ideals very much like ours are today: freedom, democracy, beauty, wealth, and happiness… for the non-enslaved. Socrates was extremely ugly. He was a terrible father and husband. He lived in poverty rather than get a real job, and he irritated almost everyone he met. He never wrote a thing down. Finally, in old age, Socrates got himself executed.

Socrates’ life, then, was a complete disaster. He was ugly and poor and died ignobly.

Reading him, though, shows that our standards are stupid and pitiless. Everyone who reads his words sees that Socrates was a most wonderful man. He was kind, and pure-of-heart, and brilliant. He was also a great joker and a terrible tease.

The first reading with Socrates in it is The Apology. It will seem very strange, as it is not written in any recognizable format—it’s not an essay or a story. In fact, The Apology is a ‘dialogue’, which is much like a play. There are two characters: Socrates and Meletus. Socrates does almost all the talking, because most of the time he is talking to the audience. The audience is a jury.

But this play is not fictional. When Socrates addresses the jury, he is fighting for his life. He is being tried on trumped-up charges, and the jury of 500 men will decide his fate before the sun goes down. Socrates knows that he may very well be sentenced to death.

The Apology

Socrates’ Defense

Well, here I am, on trial. My accusers say I’m eloquent, but they should be ashamed of themselves. You’ll soon see that they were lying. They are much more eloquent than me; they’re so eloquent they almost made me believe them. In comparison, I am quite blunt. I can’t dress my words up—but the truth is plain, and I will tell it to you plainly. I know this is a fancy courthouse, and I know people dress their words up like they dress themselves up when they come here. But I’m old, and I’ve never been here before. Please, be kind; treat me like you would a stranger from a different country.

Before I deal with the charges that brought me here, I will have to deal with some old accusations. These are accusations I have faced for years, and to be honest, I’m more afraid of them than I am the charges of Anytus. I know that you all have heard of me before. Some of you have heard of me since you were children. You will have heard that I’m a wise man, and that I speculate about odd things and love nothing more than to win an argument. You have heard these slanders for so long and from so many people that it is hard for me to argue against them. I need to fight with shadows in my own defense and cross examine someone who does not answer. Only once I have done this will I be able to deal with the other charges, the ones that have got me here in court.

You’ve all heard that I love to win arguments, correct? Have any of you actually ever seen me argue, and argue to win? No? Then that’s that. What you heard is a false rumour, just a rumour. I admit, I love to talk with people and to argue, but I always seek truth, not victory.

You may also have heard that I love to teach. I am not a teacher. I wish I knew something to teach! I would love to teach! Gorgias of Leontium gets paid for teaching, and so does Prodicus of Ceos, and Hippias of Elis. Their students not only pay, but are glad to pay! How wonderful. If I were as talented as they are, I would be very proud and conceited; but the truth is simple. I have nothing to teach.

I know you are all wondering how I ended up here in court, if none of these rumours are true. Men of Athens, I’m here because I have a certain kind of wisdom. If you ask me what kind of wisdom, I’d have to say a small and natural wisdom. Those others, the ones who teach, they have a supernatural wisdom. Not me.

Hey, hey! Quiet down, you in the back! What I say is true! Ask the god of Delphi. Chaerephon, my friend and yours, he went to Delphi and asked the oracle to tell him whether—hey, be quiet! He asked the oracle to tell him whether there was anyone wiser than me. The oracle said there was no man wiser. Chaerephon is dead now, but his brother is here. Ask him if you want.

When I heard what the oracle said, I said to myself: What can the god be thinking? I know that I’m not wise at all, but the oracle cannot lie. After thinking about it, I figured out what to do. I decided that I would try to prove the oracle wrong. I made this my mission.

I went to a person who was supposed to be wise to have a little talk. In this case, since he was a politician, I asked him about politics. Now, don’t worry. I won’t name names.

But you know, I realized after talking with him for a while that he wasn’t really wise. And I told him so. Well you can imagine how he took that. He hated me. So did his friends. I knew, though, that neither of us knows anything good, but I know that I don’t know, while he still thinks he does know. I’m better off than him—for he knows nothing and thinks he knows something. I neither know nor think that I know.

I did this again and again. I went to poets, politicians, the works. Let me tell you: I pissed a lot of people off. I had to keep going, though. The god had said I was wise. And you know what: I found that the men with the best reputations were really the most foolish, and I found some supposedly inferior men were really wiser and better.

But boy, oh boy, did I make a lot of enemies. A lot. The kids, they liked me, but nobody else did. The kids liked to hear me talk to the wise men. Eventually, they started doing it themselves, in fact. I didn’t teach them how. I told you—I don’t teach. They just did it.

And this, men of Athens, this is the truth and the whole truth.

Now let me turn to my accusers, the ones who brought me here today: Meletus, Anytus, and Lycon. They say this: Socrates is a doer of evil, and a corrupter of the youth, and he does not believe in the gods of the state, and has other new divinities of his own. Let me go through these accusations step by step.

They say that I do evil and corrupt the youth; but I say, men of Athens, that Meletus is a doer of evil. He is making a joke of this court. That’s a real evil.

Come here, Meletus, and let me ask you some questions. You say you know how to improve young people?

Yes, I do

Okay. When we want to improve young people, who should we call? What, no answer? What should we do? What improves young people?

The laws.

Oh, c’mon Meletus. You know that’s not what I mean. Who makes the laws?

The judges, Socrates, who are present in court.

Oh! Okay then! So the judges here are able to instruct and improve youth?

Sure they are.

What, all of them?

All of them.

Get out of town! That is good news! There are plenty of improvers, then. And what about the audience. Them too? They improve the youth?

Yes, they do.

And the senators?

Yes, the senators improve the youth.

But perhaps the members of the citizen assembly corrupt them? Or do they improve them?

They improve them.

Then every Athenian improves the youth. All with the exception of me, poor Socrates. I am their only corrupter? Is that what you’re saying?

That is what I am saying.

Wow. If that’s true, I’m really done for. But you know, and I know, that’s not true. Let’s talk about horses. When it comes to training horses, is everyone good, or do some people train them better than others? Can everybody be a trainer? Or do some people just make things worse? Oh. No answer? Well, it seems to me that horses are a little like the youth. Both need specialized teachers. And seriously, you have to admit that it’s a little unlikely that I’m the only person who
corrupts them.

Let me ask you another question. You surely think it’s better to live with good people.

Certainly.

And do you think that I corrupt the youth intentionally or accidentally?

Intentionally.

Oh, now hold on. Why would I want to live around bad people? You just said that it is better to live with good people. Why would I want to make things worse in my own town? Either I don’t corrupt them, or I do corrupt them, but I do so accidentally. In either case, you’re lying. In either case, I’m not guilty. You know that our law does not punish people who commit accidents.

Furthermore, if you really thought I did this by accident, you should have taken me aside and warned me. Instead, you indicted me in this court. You don’t really care about helping the youth of Athens. You are just out for revenge.

I still want to know, Meletus, what you think I’m doing wrong. I guess you must think that I teach the youth about false gods. That’s what you charged me with.

Yes, that’s it.

Do you mean that I teach about false gods, or that I’m an atheist? You didn’t make that clear in your charge, but do tell me what’s going on.

I mean that you are a complete atheist.

Get out of town. Don’t you think that I believe the sun and the moon are gods, just like everyone else here?

I assure you, judges, that he does not believe in them; for he says that the sun is stone, and the moon earth.

Meletus, you’ve confused me with Anaxagoras; don’t think that the jury is that dumb. They know that the books of Anaxagoras the Clazomenian are full of these theories. And you know that Anaxagoras’ plays are at the theatre, right? The youth go there a lot. I wouldn’t be able to fool them into thinking these theories are mine. You are a liar, Meletus. You don’t even believe yourself. Go sit down.

Well that’s that. I have a lot of enemies, though, not just Meletus. If I die here, it will be them that kill me.

Someone is going to say that I should straighten up and be ashamed of this embarrassing life. Someone is going to say that this life will get me killed. But you know what? A man who is good for anything ought not to calculate the chance of living or dying; he ought only to consider whether in doing anything he is doing right or wrong, acting the part of a good man or of a bad.

I have never feared death. Why would I start now, when I am old? When I was young and a soldier I wasn’t afraid. When the tyrants were in charge, they tried to kill me. I wasn’t afraid then either. It would be crazy for me to desert the philosopher’s post. Being afraid of death is nothing but pretending to be wise. No one knows whether death is good or bad. I know that I do not know, just like I said. This is what makes me wiser than other men.

And you know what? If you let me go, and if you ask me to stop bugging you, asking you questions, trying to discover the truth, and trying to keep you virtuous, I will disobey you. I will persevere. Let me say this loud and clear: men of Athens, I honour and love you; but I shall obey god rather than you. While I have life and strength, I will never stop doing philosophy. I will always tell people I meet: friend, you live in the great city Athens. Why do you care so much about getting rich and being famous? Don’t you worry about your soul and truth?

No, I won’t stop, with him or with you.

In fact, let me do it now. You, out there, old and young alike, stop worrying about yourself and your stuff. Worry about your soul. Virtue does not come from money. No, money comes from virtue, and so does every other good thing. This is my teaching, and if this is the doctrine which corrupts the youth, my influence is terrible indeed.

I love you, but whatever you do, know that I shall never alter my ways, not even if I have to die many times.

Hey! You promised that I’d be able to talk! And I think that what I am going to say will do you good. It’s just one more thing, but you won’t like it.

If you kill me, you will injure yourselves more than you will injure me. Meletus and Anytus will not injure me: they cannot; bad men can’t harm good men. They will only hurt themselves.

If you kill me, you won’t find another like me. I am a sort of gadfly, given to Athens by the gods. Athens is a big, majestic horse. I’m the fly that bugs the horse and keeps it awake. Yes, I bug you. Yes, you could kill me easily. But know this: if you do, you’ll slumber for the rest of your lives.

Alright, alright. There’s just one more thing. A lot of people come here and beg for mercy. They cry and wail and bring out their wives and children. I’m too old for that. Don’t hold it against me.

The jury finds Socrates guilty.

Socrates’ Proposal for his Sentence
Oh well. I’m not upset. I expected this sentence. I’m only surprised that the vote was so close.

Meletus proposes death as the penalty. What should I propose? What I deserve. I have lived a busy life in service of Athens. What should be done to me? Something good, of course. Something suitable…. I would like a nice retirement, just like our athletes get. I’m truly needy. Athletes aren’t. They give you the appearance of happiness, and I give you the reality.

I’m not joking. I didn’t do anything wrong. If the law didn’t require one day trials, I might have convinced you. I just could not convince you in so little time that all the lies you had heard for so long were false.

Anyway, I never wronged you. You might say I should go to prison or pay a fine. Perhaps I should be exiled. But nobody else would have me, and I’m old. The same thing will happen everywhere I go. I could never change: the very best thing in life is conversing about about virtue. The life which is unexamined is not worth living.

Fine. Plato and my friends say they will pay 30 minae. Let that be my punishment.

The jury condemns Socrates to death.

Socrates’ Comments on his Sentence
You know, if you had just waited, I would have died anyway! Like I said, I’m old. Now everyone will always say that you killed Socrates. Some of you convicted me because I wouldn’t beg for mercy. I thought that was below me. I’d rather die than debase myself—you see, the difficulty, my friends, is not in avoiding death, but in avoiding unrighteousness. Unrighteousness runs far faster than death. I am old and move slowly, and the slower runner has overtaken me. My accusers are young and quick, and the faster runner has overtaken them.

I will be condemned to death. My accusers will be condemned to know that they did wrong. Let us go to our punishments. I prefer mine.

I predict bad things for those of you who convicted me. Men near death have this power. You killed me because you did not want to tell the truth about the way you have lived. You made a mistake. I held the young ones back. They will be worse than I ever was. You should improve yourselves, not annihilate your critics.

To those friends who would have acquitted me, let me talk before I go to die. I have long had a little voice in my head who has always warned me before I did something wrong. This voice has not said anything today. I am quite sure that I said and did the right things. Death is nothing to fear.
There is more proof, though, that death is a good. It can only be one of two things: a state of nothingness and utter unconsciousness, or migration of the soul from this world to another. But if death is like sleep without dreams, death would be wonderful. Who would not like a restful sleep? And if death is the journey to another place of souls, what could be better? I would love to talk with Orpheus and Musaeus and Hesiod and Homer! Let me die again and again! I would love to talk to Palamedes, and Ajax the son of Telamon, and other heroes of old. They were killed unjustly, just like I will be. We will have much to discuss.

More than anything, if death takes me to the afterlife, I will be able to find more truth. I will find out who is wise and who pretends to be wise. Who wouldn’t love to ask Odysseus or Sisyphus questions! And you know what? In the afterlife, they can’t kill me for asking them questions! Not, of course, that they would.

No, no bad thing can happen to a good man, in this life or in the next. I’m not angry with my accusers. They didn’t do me any harm.

Still, I have one favour to ask. When my sons are grown up, please punish them. Trouble them, as I have troubled you, if they seem to care about riches, or anything else, more than they care about virtue. Punish them if they pretend to be something they are not. If you do this, I and my sons will have received justice at your hands.

The hour of departure has arrived, and we go our ways—I to die, and you to live. Which is better the gods only know.

I’m writing a book.

It’s a little unusual. I take a few of the great philosophers and reduce their work to a few pages. Then I translate them into plain English. Glyn Hughes did the first part before me, and his book is better than this one.

Let me be very clear: my work is not very good. You should read the philosophers, not me. Read them in the original if you can. If you can’t, read a full, beautiful, skillfully-written translation. You should savour the words, and read slowly, giving these masters, these very great geniuses, your full attention.

You should do this. But you probably won’t.

I figure a little philosophy is better than none at all. What you have here is a little philosophy. But please, be forewarned: I cut stuff I find boring. You might have loved something I cut out. I write their English into my English; I might be wrong. And, of course, in the introductory passages, I’m making dumb, ill-informed, hasty history that would make proper scholars twitch.

And let me be clear about something else: if you show this book to a real philosophy teacher (or, god forbid, a real philosopher), she will laugh at you until you cry. Don’t even think about citing this book in an essay. Didn’t you see that I published it myself? This is not a good book.

No, seriously. It’s not. This book is for people who want a reasonable shortcut to the great philosophers. Nothing more. It is not for people who want to be sure they know what they are talking about. It is certainly not for research.

Press on, then:

• Socrates’ Apology
• Descartes’ Meditations
• Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations
• Marx’s Communist Manifesto

Marcus Aurelius was an honest-to-god emperor of Rome. He was also a great guy. He is said to have been “by nature a saint and sage, by profession a warrior and ruler”.

Despite being the most powerful man in the world, Marcus Aurelius lived a simple life. He advocated working hard and wanting little. It did not get him anywhere, though; in all likelihood he was miserable. His life was tragic. Four of his five sons died, and the survivor was Commodus, the emperor in the movie “Gladiator”.

As if that were not bad enough, his time as emperor saw Rome blighted by fire, floods, earthquakes and war. It was in one of these wars that Marcus’ beloved wife, Faustina, died. Marcus himself died of chickenpox while lost in a Hungarian marsh fighting barbarians. Seriously.

The Meditations

Book 2

Say this to yourself every morning: “Today, I will meet the busy-bodies, the ungrateful, the arrogant and the unsocial. It’s not their fault: they do not know about good and evil. I do know. I know that the good is beautiful and the bad is ugly. I know that these cretins are just like me, yet they cannot harm me. They cannot make me feel ugly, nor can they make me hate them. In truth, we are like fingers on a hand.

I am nothing but flesh and breath. I must hate my flesh as if I were dying. It is nothing but blood and bones. I am a mind, too; I am an old man and I should no longer be a slave, a puppet on strings. I will no longer be dissatisfied, nor will I shrink from the future.

No person can die more than once. No person can live in the past or in the future. The longest life and the shortest life are, therefore, the same: you cannot lose what you cannot have.

There are only five ways to be hurt:

1. Hate. Do not hate anything; everything that happens is a part of nature. You are a part of nature, too.
2. Turning away from your fellow man—or worse, turning to him with anger and the intention to harm.
3. Being overpowered by pleasure or pain.
4. Telling lies.
5. Acting purposelessly.

Life is short. Our minds are dull. Our bodies are weak. Our souls are confused. Fate is unkind. Life is a kind of warfare, and our minds are cloudy. There is only one thing that can guide a man: philosophy. Philosophy can free us from passions and keep us from pain and pleasure. Philosophy teaches us that we cannot change anything, that everything happens for a reason. Nothing is evil which is according to nature.

Book 3
Everything is beautiful. Cracks in bread, gaping figs, and olives near to rotten are beautiful. A man needs to learn to see the beauty and to feel deeply those things that the universe presents.

A good man thinks honest, pure thoughts. He would not be ashamed to show them to others, as if his ideas were a picnic lunch. A man like this feels no insults and acts rightly. He values only the praise of men like himself.

A man has to stand on his own two feet. A man cannot be held up by others.

Book 4
If you work at what is before you, and if you do what is right, and do it calmly, vigorously, and purely; if you do this while expecting nothing in return and fearing nothing at all; if you are truthful; then you will be live happy. Nobody can prevent this.

Some men want cottages and vacations by the sea or in the mountains. You do not need to go somewhere to find quiet; you can find quiet within yourself. Tranquility comes from the good ordering of the mind.

Do not try to change others. What happens happens from necessity. To stop it is to not allow the fig tree to have juice. Remember this when you feel the urge to change another person: soon you will both be dead and not even your names will be left behind.

When children fall around their mothers, they cry. When children fall down alone, they get up. If you do not think you are hurt, you are not hurt. Stop complaining and you will stop your pain.

The only things that really injure are the things that make a person worse than she was before.

Everything happens for a reason. If you watch, you will see this is true. Everything is ordered. Find the order, and act in accordance with nature. This is goodness.

Many grains of incense are thrown into the fire. One is annihilated before, another after. It makes no difference.

Do what is good and do what is necessary. The people who thought you an ass will think you a god.

Death hangs over you. Do good while you can.

Do not be whirled about. Understand everything.

If it is good for you, sweet universe, it is good for me. Nothing is early or late for you. Nor will it be for me. Your seasons bring fruit. Your seasons bring death. Everything comes from you. Everything will return to you.

Do what is necessary. Do what mankind requires. Doing so makes a man tranquil.

A good woman is satisfied with her portion and satisfied with herself.

Be a pier against which the waves break.

Book 5
Say this to yourself when you are tempted to beditate: I am rising to do the work of a human. Why should I be angry about that? Was I made for this, to doze in a soft, warm bed? Was I made for pleasure or was I made for action? Look around. Do the plants doze? Do the ants cuddle? Don’t the bees work for one another and to fulfill their part in the universe? Are you unwilling to do the part of human?

It is easy to wipe away troublesome impressions and to be in all tranquility.

I will work for the universe until I fall and rest, breathing out into the world the same breath just given me.

One woman does a favour and wants you to be grateful. Another sees it as a debt to be repaid. The best one, though, does not know what she has done; she is like a vine producing grapes. A horse runs, a dog hunts. They don’t ask to be repaid. Do it; move on.

You are a part of the universe. Therefore, what happens to you happens for you. What happens to you goes on from you.

Stupid men and conceited men are often successful because they do not see or will not admit the obstacles they face. It is a shame that ignorance and conceit are sometimes better than wisdom.

Nothing touches your soul. Your soul judges but does not touch.

Do you hate people who smell bad? Do you detest the ugly, uncool, or weird? Why? What good will it do? They are who they are. Good luck changing them.

Some things are hurrying into existence. Some things are hurrying out of it. Nothing remains for long. A woman should not love sparrows that fly by and pass out of sight. She should not cling to life either. Give back freely that breath that was freely given to you.

It is a shame when the soul gives up before the body does.

Do not seek fame and fortune. Be simple, pure, serious, and honest. Be kind, affectionate, and firm in the things you do. Be thoughtful. Examine things carefully. Do not chastise or fear other people. Be satisfied with simple food, lodging and clothes. Be patient with your critics. Be happy to find better opinions than your own. Then you will die happy, like dear Antoninus did.

Book 6
The best way of avenging yourself is not to become like the person who wronged you.

What then is worth being valued? Clapping hands? No. Clapping of tongues? No. The only worthwhile thing is a purposeful and restrained life.

Suppose your judo opponent has cut you or headbutted you. You do not get upset—it’s part of the game. You don’t think of him as a necessarily dangerous man outside of the ring. You just quietly get out of his way and judge him later. Treat everything like this: with caution, but not fear.

If anyone can tell me that I am wrong, I will learn. Nobody has yet been hurt by the truth.

I do my duty. Other things do not bother me because they are out of my control.

It is a shame when the soul gives up before the body does.

He who has seen present things has seen all.

Nobody can stop you from following your reason. Nothing will happen to you that was not planned by nature.

Book 7
To the rational animal the same act is according to nature and according to reason.

Stand up, or someone else will make you stand up.

From Plato: A man who is good for anything at all ought not to measure the value of life or death, and should only care about one thing: whether he is doing something just or unjust, doing the work of a good or a bad man.

Another may be more expert in throwing his opponent, but that does not make him a better person. She may not be more social, more modest, or better disciplined. She may not be as kind to her neighbours.

It is always possible to be good, whatever your circumstances. It is always possible to be just in your actions and careful in your thoughts.

Look within. There is a fountain of good, and it will bubble up forever, if you can just keep digging.

Why do we love Socrates? It was his soul. He was content with being just towards men and pious towards the gods. He never despaired that other men were villains, nor did he allow himself to become a slave. He never found anything strange, and he never found anything unendurable. He never allowed his mind to sympathize with his miserable flesh.

Book 8
Remember that as it shameful to be surprised if the fig-tree produces figs, it shameful to be surprised that the world moves on.

It is satisfying to do the work a man should do. A aman should be kind, despise his senses, think carefully, and study the universe.

Speak the same way to the important and the unimportant.

A woman who fights the nature of the world is like a foot cut off of the body. However, there is a beautiful provision: while a foot cannot be reattached, a person can rejoin the body politic.

Do not extrapolate from small facts. Say you hear rumors that your friend has been slighting you behind your back. Maybe she has been. People talk. Do not give them more to say by getting upset. And maybe she has not been. You do not know for sure.

You got a parking ticket. Pay it. Do not get upset with the laws, or angry that you did something wrong—or worse, did nothing wrong. Pay it and move on. The universe still works as it should.

Wickedness does not harm the universe; in particular, it does not harm any other person. Wickedness only harms the wicked.

Suppose you are being insulted. Suppose you are being beaten. So? What is stopping you from keeping your mind pure, wise, sober and just? Imagine throwing mud into a spring. It lingers only a moment and then is carried away. Be simple, free, modest and content, and you will be like the spring.

Book 9
Do not labour like a student, always looking over your shoulder as if you deserve pity or admiration for all the work you have. Get on with it.

Do not fear change. Was their anything to fear when you became a youth or a man? No. Nor is there anything to fear about the final change, into death.

Children’s arguments and games, mansions of the dead, spirits carrying dead bodies. This is everything.

The universe is a river swollen with the spring thaw. Politics and the common philosophy is idiotic. It is drivel.

Enough of this wretched life, gossip, and stupid gaming. Why not? What is there new in this? Look at it. Besides this there is nothing.

Observe what you need, then do it and accept it. There is little to fear from getting what you need.

You are also a member of a community. Work for your community and trouble yourself about nothing else.

Book 10
Stop talking about what a good man is. Be a good man.

Somebody is always happy to see another person die.

Book 11
To expect bad men not to do wrong is madness.

Socrates used to call the opinion of the many ‘Boogeyman’ because it is used to frighten children.

When a man kisses his child, said Epictetus, he should whisper to himself, “Tomorrow you may die.”

Book 12
Everything you want you can have now. Forget the past, trust in the future, and be pious and good in the present.

If it is not right, do not do it: if it is not true, do not say it.

Buddy, you have been a citizen of this great universe. What difference does it make to you whether it has been for five years or three? “But I have not finished the five acts, only three of them.”—Sure, but in life, three acts are the whole drama. Depart satisfied, for he who releases you is satisfied.

René Descartes is sometimes called “The Father of Modern Philosophy” because he single-handedly ended 2000 years of bad philosophy. (I’ve put some bad philosophy in later). Astonishingly, Descartes was not only the world’s greatest philosopher—he was also the world’s greatest mathematician. Cartesian geometry (the geometry of the game “Battleship”) is named for him.

In the following passage from Meditations on First Philosophy, Descartes is trying to put an end to the problem of skepticism. The problem of skepticism is this: once we start doubting, it is hard to stop.

I’ll give you stupid example: I used to study in bed. Philosophy is boring, so I fell asleep a lot. I often found myself dreaming about reading philosophy—I would transition very smoothly from awake to asleep, and not even know it. That little crack, that smooth transition, allows a lot of doubt to creep in. How do I know that I’m not asleep right now, in front of the computer? How do I ever know when I’m awake? Maybe I’ve never even been awake! Maybe I live in the matrix! Arrrggggghhh! This is the problem of skepticism: doubt snowballs.

Descartes is trying to find one certain truth to stop the snowballing. His method is amazing. He uses judo: he takes the force of the problem and turns it to his advantage. He says, roughly, that instead of testing everything he knows to see if it is indubitable, he will try to doubt everything, and see what remains. Instead of fighting the problem, he flips it around.

Descartes is doing epistemology. He is trying to answer the question: What do we know for certain? And his answer is astonishing. It’s brilliant. It’s amazing.

Descartes died of sleep deprivation. Or he was poisoned by the pope. The French tore apart his dead body with their bare hands–apparently, they loved him so much, they wanted souvenears.

No, seriously. They did that. Seriously.

Meditations on First Philosophy:

Meditation 1

I’m retired. Now that I have the time, I think I should get rid of all my false beliefs and start building my knowledge up from a certain foundation. What else do I have to do today? Why not reinvent all of science?

I won’t agree to anything that is probably or almost certain any more than I would agree to something obviously false. If I can doubt it at all, I’ll reject it. But I will not deal with every belief individually. I will remove the foundations of my beliefs and knock all my shaky beliefs down at once. This is the easiest way.

For instance, I used to think that I could find truth from the senses. But senses sometimes mislead us. We should not trust them to give us truth.

Some people say, though, that there are experiences we cannot doubt. Like, say, that I am here, by the fire, and holding a piece of paper. I’d have to be crazy to doubt that!

That does seem plausible. The trouble is, I sleep. I have even dreamed that I have been sitting, by the fire, holding a piece of paper, when I was actually in bed asleep. Dreams can be very real. They can seem real.

Well, let me try that on for a second. What if I am dreaming? When I dream, I don’t dream anything new. I may dream that I have two heads, but I knew what heads were before I fell asleep. Painters do the same thing. They just combine old parts to make new monsters. Even if you don’t believe that, colours are certain, and nobody can invent a new colour. There are many fundamental things like these: simple, universal things, and all of the things in our consciousness are formed of those things. Maybe I can be certain about these things.

Extension, shape, number, place, time: these are all things that I know for sure exist, because everything else I see conforms to these things. Everything I know takes up space, has a shape, and is separated from other things. These qualities may be certain. If so physics, astronomy and medicine are all doubtful because they deal with physical things. Math and geometry deal with the pure things that everything has: extension and number.

Math and geometry would be more certain, unless even the most basic things, like numbers and space, cannot be trusted. God could have made them seem real all this time. He could have been fooling me. It would take a superhuman power to fool me about numbers, but God has superhuman powers.

Oh no. Everything can be doubted. I can doubt everything. I will not be fooled again.

Okay, it’s not God who would fool me, since you could excommunicate me like you did Galileo a couple of years ago. It’s an evil demon. An evil demon could be fooling me, making me think that 2+2=4, when in fact 2+2=5. Now all I know is that I can’t be sure of anything. Since I can’t be sure of anything, I will suspend judgment on everything.

This is making me tired. I’m going to bed.

Meditation 2

I’m bummed out about yesterday. I’m going to stick to it, though and get rid of every belief that I can doubt at all. If any belief could be wrong, then it is as good as totally wrong to me. I’ll get rid of every belief until I find one I know to be true.

Everything I see seems to be doubtable. Everything I remember seems to be doubtable too. Everything I sense and the world outside my mind seems doubtable. Maybe nothing is certain.

Maybe there is a god or something that makes me think these things. Or maybe there is not, since I could think them without help. Either way, though, am I at least not something? Before, I thought that there was no world outside of my mind. But did I think that I didn’t exist? No. Even if someone is always fooling me, I know that there is an I that is being fooled.

That’s it! This sentence, “I am, I exist”, is necessarily true each time it is expressed by me, or conceived in my mind! I think, therefore I am! Ego cogito, ergo sum! Je pense donc je suis!

But hold on: I don’t know what I am. I exist, but what am I? I need to be careful not to jump to conclusions.

There’s a lot I know I’m not. I may not have a body. I may not be a man. I may not have a soul.

I do know that I am a thinking thing. That much is certain. Thinking is an attribute I certainly have. As long as I am thinking, I know that I exist. I am—I exist: that is certain. But if I stop thinking, who knows? I could stop existing. I am, then, precisely speaking, only a thinking thing. Still, that’s something: a thinking thing is a real thing.

Can I be sure of anything else? Not yet. What, then, am I? What is a thinking thing? It is a thing that doubts, understands, conceives, affirms, denies, wills, refuses, imagines and perceives.

I doubt, I understand and I desire. I also imagine, even though what I imagine may not be real. Even if what I perceive, see, hear, and feel is not real, I am real. All this perceiving is a part of thinking. I now know that I exist as long as I perceive.

It seems crazy to say that I can’t trust the external world, but that is the truth. I find it really hard to get my head around the idea that physical things can’t be trusted. Look at this piece of wax, though. It smells nice; it is cold and solid. It is as real as anything I can imagine. But if I put it near the fire, everything changes. It does not smell, look, or feel the same. It still seems to be the same wax—but every quality it had has changed. The external world is much more complicated than it appears.

What is wax? Wax is like every physical things It is extended, flexible, and movable. Its other qualities are much less certain, but these qualities seem fairly clear. If we ignore the senses when we consider physical things, we can really get to the truth of what they are. We can do this with intuition and inspection of the mind. Instead of abstracting from things we sense, we should build up from our innate ideas. Some ideas can be very clear and distinct.

I have to be really careful. I’m very used to saying that I perceive things with my eyes. I don’t really. I judge with my mind and I see with my eyes. Often, I confuse these two things. It really seems like the clearest perceptions come from the mind, not the senses.

In conclusion, then, I do not know that I am anything other than mind. Whether I perceive with my senses or through introspection, I know, however, that I am. It is more accurate to perceive physical things with the mind than with the senses. My mind is the clearest thing my mind can perceive.

I’m pretty dumb, so I’d better stick with this much for today. Back to bed.

Further reading:

Have a look around. I’ve decoded some great works of philosophy. I have a blog too. My erstwhile podcast is around here somewhere.

It is hard to like Marx. His ideas led to 90 million murders, give or take. Whole countries suffered famines and poverty for decades because ideologues thought that the workers’ paradise was one more murder away.

Marx was also a total jerk. His family lived in poverty in a crummy London apartment because he refused to get a job. He mooched incessantly off his friend Friedrich Engels. He spent his wife’s inheritance. He probably slept with his housekeeper and knocked her up.

Still, however detestable he might be, no philosopher has been more important. And despite what you likely believe if you have not read him, few are as relevant today.

The Communist Manifesto

A spectre is haunting Europe. It is the spectre of communism. We communists are everywhere. It is now time to tell you what we think.

I: Bourgeois and Proletarians

Real history is the history of class struggles.

Real history is the story of the rich screwing the poor and the poor fighting back.

Now history is simple. It is two classes: the bourgeoisie and the proletariat. The bourgeoisie are screwing us. We are fighting back.

Modern industry is based on spreading trade and ‘development’ through the world. Modern industry has trampled every class other than its own. Now instead of peasants serving kings, politicians serve corporate executives.

The bourgeoisie has ruined the beauty and diversity of human life. We relate to each other as prices, nothing more. We no longer have saints; now we have drive through absolutions. We do not have warriors; we have ticketed wrestling events. There is only one god to worship: the dollar.

The bourgeoisie cannot exist without constantly inventing new means of production. When they do this, they change all the old relations that people had to one another. This constant change, this constant uncertainty, this is what makes our age unique. All the ancient, holy, varied relations disappear. New ones disappear, too, before they can become beautiful traditions.

Because capitalists need constant profit and growth, they now spread throughout the world. Capitalism must spread, forever, like cancer.

This spread turns old civilizations into ‘modern’ civilizations. Old industries are destroyed. Instead of feeding the people who grow it, rice is shipped wherever it gets the highest profits. All raw materials, which once supported local communities and local industries, are shipped to wherever they bring the most profits. Instead of old wants, we all have the new wants. These new wants pull food from the mouths of peasants half-way around the world.

Intellectual products are no different. Bollywood is more Hollywood than Bombay. Our ‘culture’ spreads, destroying the old and beautiful.

We crush old cultures with cheap prices. Even barbarians love Wal-Mart. The capitalists here make capitalists there. The whole world is remade in our image.

Cities swell with slums. The peasants in the slums slave on our sneakers. They are desperate for our work once freed from the idiocy of rural life. The countryside is dependent on the city. The Third World is dependent on the First. The East is dependent on the West.

It cannot last. Capitalism is a monster. It is a Frankenstein. Once unleashed, it cannot be controlled, and it threatens us. It brings crises, each worse than the last. The crises are an epidemic that once would have been absurd: overproduction. We create too much stuff. The glut means that the factories, the productive forces, must be destroyed. There is too much civilization, too much means of subsistence, too much industry, too much commerce. Profit is threatened, so the bourgeoisie drives up profits by destroying capital. They throw workers, already desperate, onto the street. They spread, farther and deeper, into markets that had not been exploited or markets that could be exploited more.

And in doing so, they dig their own graves. The bourgeoisie pave the way for ever worse crises.

As capital develops, the proletariat is diminished. They sell their labour as best they can. Their jobs become idiotic, monotonous, and vile. Their lives are a commodity, to be bought like any other commodity. The worse their lives become, the more profit the bourgeoisie makes.

Work has lost its beauty. Men are now merely part of the machines they work. As the repulsiveness of the work increases, the wage decreases. Workshops become factories. Workers are organized like soldiers. They are slaves, both to their masters and their machines.

When competition drives wages down far enough, and when machines replace strength and skill, everyone can work. All people become labourers. Women and children are pressed into service. Women and children will work for the least money of all.

The middle class, who used to own shops and small trades are forced out of business. Home Hardware becomes Home Depot. The lower-middle class becomes proletariat. Wages drop more.

As the proletariat class grows, it becomes stronger. The bourgeoisie must repress it. Men compete with men for work. Men compete with women. Women compete with children. The proletariat fight over jobs like dogs fight over scraps. They must. Unions are formed. Unions are crushed. Now and then, workers are victorious… but only for a time.

The bourgeoisie fights itself too. National industries are set against other nations. The bourgeoisie begs for the help of the proletariat. In doing so, it gives the proletariat strength. It gives them the weapons they will use. The bourgeoisie produces nothing but its own grave-diggers. The victory of the proletariats is inevitable.

II: Proletarians and Communists

Our theory is simple: Get rid of private property.

We do not mean the property of the workers. No, there is no need to take the property of the peasant, the artisan, or the proletariat. It has already been taken. Modern industry took it.

We want the property of the bourgeoisie. If you are bourgeoisie, you think you have earned it. Nonsense. You stole it. Are you afraid? You should be.

Communists are feared because they want to do away with countries and nationality. The workers have no country. We cannot take what they do not have. There are no national antagonisms now. There is only one: that between the proletariat and the bourgeoisie.

The proletariat will wrestle, bit by bit, the instruments of production from the hands of the capitalists. Certainly, at first, this will mean that we will seize factories. But that period will be short. In short order, we will beat the capitalists at their own game. We will undermine them from within.

This is what we want. This is how we will win:

1. Abolition of land ownership.
2. A heavy progressive income tax.
3. Abolition of all rights of inheritance.
4. Confiscation of the property of all emigrants and rebels.
5. A single national bank with state capital and an exclusive monopoly.
6. State-owned transportation and communication industries.
7. State-owned factories.
8. Equal obligation of all to work. Establishment of industrial armies, especially for agriculture.
9. A more even distribution of population over the nation. An abolition of the distinction between city and countryside.
10. Free education f