Socrates “Did you hear,” said I, “all the goods that Thrasymachus just now enumerated for the life of the unjust man?” “I heard,” he said, “but I am not convinced.” “Do you wish us then to try to persuade him, supposing we can find a way, that what he says is not true?” “Of course I wish it,” he said. “If then we oppose him in a set speech enumerating in turn the advantages of being just and he replies and we rejoin, we shall have to count up and measure the goods listed in the respective speeches

Socrates and we shall forthwith be in need of judges to decide between us. But if, as in the preceding discussion, we come to terms with one another as to what we admit in the inquiry, we shall be ourselves both judges and pleaders.” “Quite so,” he said. “Which method do you like best?” said I. “This one,” he said.

“Come then, Thrasymachus,” I said, “go back to the beginning and answer us. You affirm that perfect and complete injustice is more profitable than justice that is complete.”

“I affirm it,” he said, “and have told you my reasons.” “Tell me then how you would express yourself on this point about them. You call one of them, I presume, a virtue and the other a vice?” “Of course.” “Justice the virtue and injustice the vice?” “It is likely, you innocent, when I say that injustice pays and justice doesn’t pay.” “But what then, pray?” “The opposite,” he replied. “What! justice vice?” “No, but a most noble simplicity or goodness of heart.” “Then do you call injustice badness of heart?”

“No, but goodness of judgement.” “Do you also, Thrasymachus, regard the unjust as intelligent and good?” “Yes, if they are capable of complete injustice,” he said, “and are able to subject to themselves cities and tribes of men. But you probably suppose that I mean those who take purses. There is profit to be sure even in that sort of thing,” he said, “if it goes undetected. But such things are not worth taking into the account,

but only what I just described.” “I am not unaware of your meaning in that,” I said; “but this is what surprised me, that you should range injustice under the head of virtue and wisdom, and justice in the opposite class.” “Well, I do so class them,” he said. “That,” said I, “is a stiffer proposition, my friend, and if you are going as far as that it is hard to know what to answer.”

Socrates “For if your position were that injustice is profitable yet you conceded it to be vicious and disgraceful as some other disputants do, there would be a chance for an argument on conventional principles. But, as it is, you obviously are going to affirm that it is honorable and strong and you will attach to it all the other qualities

Socrates that we were assigning to the just, since you don’t shrink from putting it in the category of virtue and wisdom.” “You are a most veritable prophet,” he replied. “Well,” said I, “I mustn’t flinch from following out the logic of the inquiry, so long as I conceive you to be saying what you think. For now, Thrasymachus, I absolutely believe that you are not “mocking” us but telling us your real opinions about the truth.” “What difference does it make to you,” he said, “whether I believe it or not?” “Why don’t you test the argument?”

Socrates “No difference,” said I, “but here is something I want you to tell me in addition to what you have said. Do you think the just man would want to overreach or exceed another just man?” “By no means,” he said; “otherwise he would not be the delightful simpleton that he is.” “And would he exceed or overreach or go beyond the just action?” “Not that either,” he replied. “But how would he treat the unjust man—would he deem it proper and just to outdo, overreach, or go beyond him or would he not?” “He would,” he said, “but he wouldn’t be able to.” “That is not my question,” I said,

Socrates “but whether it is not the fact that the just man does not claim and wish to outdo the just man but only the unjust?” “That is the case,” he replied. “How about the unjust then? Does he claim to overreach and outdo the just man and the just action?” “Of course,” he said, “since he claims to overreach and get the better of everything.” “Then the unjust man will overreach and outdo also both the unjust man and the unjust action, and all his endeavor will be to get the most in everything for himself.” “That is so.”

“Let us put it in this way,” I said; “the just man does not seek to take advantage of his like but of his unlike, but the unjust man

of both.” “Admirably put,” he said. “But the unjust man is intelligent and good and the just man neither.” “That, too, is right,” he said. “Is it not also true,” I said, “that the unjust man is like the intelligent and good and the just man is not?” “Of course,” he said, “being such he will be like to such and the other not.” “Excellent. Then each is such as that to which he is like.” “What else do you suppose?” he said. “Very well, Thrasymachus,

but do you recognize that one man is a musician and another unmusical?” “I do.” “Which is the intelligent and which the unintelligent?” “The musician, I presume, is the intelligent and the unmusical the unintelligent.” “And is he not good in the things in which he is intelligent and bad in the things in which he is unintelligent?” “Yes.” “And the same of the physician?” “The same.” “Do you think then, my friend, that any musician in the tuning of a lyre would want to overreach another musician in the tightening and relaxing of the strings or would claim and think fit to exceed or outdo him?” “I do not.” “But would the the unmusical man?” “Of necessity,” he said.

Socrates “And how about the medical man?

Socrates In prescribing food and drink would he want to outdo the medical man or the medical procedure?” “Surely not.” “But he would the unmedical man?” “Yes.” “Consider then with regard to all forms of knowledge and ignorance whether you think that anyone who knows would choose to do or say other or more than what another who knows would do or say, and not rather exactly what his like would do in the same action.” “Why, perhaps it must be so,” he said, “in such cases.” “But what of the ignorant man—of him who does not know? Would he not overreach or outdo equally

Socrates the knower and the ignorant?” “It may be.” “But the one who knows is wise?” “I’ll say so.” “And the wise is good?” “I’ll say so.” “Then he who is good and wise will not wish to overreach his like but his unlike and opposite.” “It seems so,” he said. “But the bad man and the ignoramus will overreach both like and unlike?” “So it appears.” “And does not our unjust man, Thrasymachus, overreach both unlike and like? Did you not say that?” “I did,” he replied.

Socrates “But the just man will not overreach his like but only his unlike?” “Yes.” “Then the just man is like the wise and good, and the unjust is like the bad and the ignoramus.” “It seems likely.” “But furthermore we agreed that such is each as that to which he is like.” “Yes, we did.” “Then the just man has turned out on our hands to be good and wise and the unjust man bad and ignorant.”

Thrasymachus made all these admissions

not as I now lightly narrate them, but with much baulking and reluctance and prodigious sweating, it being summer, and it was then I beheld what I had never seen before—Thrasymachus blushing. But when we did reach our conclusion that justice is virtue and wisdom and injustice vice and ignorance, “Good,” said I, “let this be taken as established. But we were also affirming that injustice is a strong and potent thing. Don’t you remember, Thrasymachus?” “I remember,” he said; “but I don’t agree with what you are now saying either and I have an answer to it,

but if I were to attempt to state it, I know very well that you would say that I was delivering a harangue. Either then allow me to speak at such length as I desire, or, if you prefer to ask questions, go on questioning and I, as we do for old wives telling their tales, will say “Very good” and will nod assent and dissent.” “No, no,” said I, “not counter to your own belief.” “Yes, to please you,” he said, “since you don’t allow me freedom of speech. And yet what more do you want?” “Nothing, indeed,” said I; “but if this is what you propose to do, do it and I will ask the questions.” “Ask on, then.”