Godsloveapples
Between darkness and wonder
I'm taking a Philosophy course and my professor introduced to us Plato's Myth of the Cave. It's a story about the descent to true knowledge and the complications one must face to get there. This parable is considered by many as one of Plato's greatest works. I find it truly fascinating and it's definitely worth the read.
Plato’s Myth of the Cave
Plato, one of the earliest and greatest Western philosophers, illustrated how philosophy
aims at freedom with his famous parable called the Myth of the Cave. The
Myth of the Cave is a story Plato tells in The Republic, his classic philosophical work
on justice. Here is an edited and simplified translation of the Myth of the Cave,
which Plato wrote in his native Greek:
Now let me describe the human situation in a parable about ignorance and
learning. Imagine there are men living at the bottom of an underground cave
whose entrance is a long passageway that rises through the ground to the light
outside. They have been there since childhood and have their legs and necks
chained so that they cannot move. The chains hold their heads so that they must
sit facing the back wall of the cave and
cannot turn their heads to look up
through the entrance behind them.
At some distance behind them, up
nearer the entrance to the cave, a fire
is burning. Objects pass in front of
the fire so that they cast their shadows
on the back wall where the prisoners
see the moving shadows projected
as if on a screen. All kinds of objects
parade before the fire, including
statues of men and animals whose
shadows dance on the wall in front of
the prisoners.
Those prisoners are like ourselves.
The prisoners see nothing of
themselves or each other except the
shadows each one’s body casts on the
back wall of the cave. Similarly, they
see nothing of the objects behind
them, except their shadows moving
on the wall.
Now imagine the prisoners could
talk with each other. Suppose their
voices echoed off the wall so that the voices seem to come from their own shadows.
Then wouldn’t they talk about these shadows as if the shadows were real? For the
prisoners, reality would consist of nothing but the shadows.
Next imagine that one prisoner was freed from his chains. Suppose he was
suddenly forced to stand up and turn toward the entrance of the cave. Suppose he
was forced to walk up toward the burning fire. The movement would be painful,
and the glare from the fire would blind him so that he would not see clearly the
real objects whose shadows he used to watch. What would he think if someone
explained that everything he had seen before was an illusion, that now he was
nearer to reality and that his vision was actually clearer?
Imagine he was then shown the objects that had cast their shadows on the wall
and he was asked to name each one—wouldn’t he be at a complete loss? Wouldn’t
he think the shadows he saw before were more true than these objects?
Next imagine he was forced to look straight at the burning light. His eyes would
hurt. The pain would make him turn away and try to return to things he could see
more easily. He would think that those things were more real than the new things
they were showing him.
But suppose that once more someone takes him and drags him up the steep
and rugged ascent from the cave. Suppose someone forces him out into the full
light of the sun. Won’t he suffer greatly and be furious at being dragged upward?
As he approaches the light his eyes will be dazzled and he won’t be able to see any
of this world we ourselves call reality. Little by little he will have to get used to
looking at the upper world. At first he will see shadows on the ground best, next
perhaps the reflections of men and other objects in water, and then maybe the
objects themselves. After this he would find it easier to gaze at the light of the
moon and the stars in the night sky than to look at the daylight sun and its light.
Last of all he will be able to look at the sun and contemplate its nature. He will
not just look at its reflection in water but will see it as it is in itself and in its own
domain. He would come to the conclusion that the sun produces the seasons and
the years and that it controls everything in the visible world. He will understand
that it is in a way the cause of everything that he and his fellow prisoners used
to see.
Suppose the released prisoner now recalled the cave and what passed for wisdom
among his fellows there. Wouldn’t he be happy about his new situation and
feel sorry for them? They might have been in the habit of honoring those among
themselves who were quickest to make out the shadows and those who could remember
which usually came before others so that they were best at predicting the
course of the shadows. Would he care about such honors and glories or would he
envy those who won them? Wouldn’t he rather endure anything than go back to
thinking and living like they did?
Finally, imagine that the released prisoner was taken from the light and
brought back into the cave to his old seat. His eyes would be full of darkness. Now
he would have to compete in discerning the shadows with the prisoners who had
never left the cave while his own eyes were still dim. Wouldn’t he appear ridiculous?
Men would say of him that he had gone up and had come back down with
his eyesight ruined and that it was better not even to think of ascending. In fact, if
they caught anyone trying to free them and lead them up to the light, they would
try to kill him.
I say, now, that the prison is the world we see with our eyes; the light of the fire
is like the power of our sun. The climb upward out of the cave into the upper
world is the ascent of the mind into the domain of true knowledge.
Plato, The Republic, from bk. 7. This translation copyright © 1987 by Manuel Velasquez.
Plato’s Myth of the Cave
Plato, one of the earliest and greatest Western philosophers, illustrated how philosophy
aims at freedom with his famous parable called the Myth of the Cave. The
Myth of the Cave is a story Plato tells in The Republic, his classic philosophical work
on justice. Here is an edited and simplified translation of the Myth of the Cave,
which Plato wrote in his native Greek:
Now let me describe the human situation in a parable about ignorance and
learning. Imagine there are men living at the bottom of an underground cave
whose entrance is a long passageway that rises through the ground to the light
outside. They have been there since childhood and have their legs and necks
chained so that they cannot move. The chains hold their heads so that they must
sit facing the back wall of the cave and
cannot turn their heads to look up
through the entrance behind them.
At some distance behind them, up
nearer the entrance to the cave, a fire
is burning. Objects pass in front of
the fire so that they cast their shadows
on the back wall where the prisoners
see the moving shadows projected
as if on a screen. All kinds of objects
parade before the fire, including
statues of men and animals whose
shadows dance on the wall in front of
the prisoners.
Those prisoners are like ourselves.
The prisoners see nothing of
themselves or each other except the
shadows each one’s body casts on the
back wall of the cave. Similarly, they
see nothing of the objects behind
them, except their shadows moving
on the wall.
Now imagine the prisoners could
talk with each other. Suppose their
voices echoed off the wall so that the voices seem to come from their own shadows.
Then wouldn’t they talk about these shadows as if the shadows were real? For the
prisoners, reality would consist of nothing but the shadows.
Next imagine that one prisoner was freed from his chains. Suppose he was
suddenly forced to stand up and turn toward the entrance of the cave. Suppose he
was forced to walk up toward the burning fire. The movement would be painful,
and the glare from the fire would blind him so that he would not see clearly the
real objects whose shadows he used to watch. What would he think if someone
explained that everything he had seen before was an illusion, that now he was
nearer to reality and that his vision was actually clearer?
Imagine he was then shown the objects that had cast their shadows on the wall
and he was asked to name each one—wouldn’t he be at a complete loss? Wouldn’t
he think the shadows he saw before were more true than these objects?
Next imagine he was forced to look straight at the burning light. His eyes would
hurt. The pain would make him turn away and try to return to things he could see
more easily. He would think that those things were more real than the new things
they were showing him.
But suppose that once more someone takes him and drags him up the steep
and rugged ascent from the cave. Suppose someone forces him out into the full
light of the sun. Won’t he suffer greatly and be furious at being dragged upward?
As he approaches the light his eyes will be dazzled and he won’t be able to see any
of this world we ourselves call reality. Little by little he will have to get used to
looking at the upper world. At first he will see shadows on the ground best, next
perhaps the reflections of men and other objects in water, and then maybe the
objects themselves. After this he would find it easier to gaze at the light of the
moon and the stars in the night sky than to look at the daylight sun and its light.
Last of all he will be able to look at the sun and contemplate its nature. He will
not just look at its reflection in water but will see it as it is in itself and in its own
domain. He would come to the conclusion that the sun produces the seasons and
the years and that it controls everything in the visible world. He will understand
that it is in a way the cause of everything that he and his fellow prisoners used
to see.
Suppose the released prisoner now recalled the cave and what passed for wisdom
among his fellows there. Wouldn’t he be happy about his new situation and
feel sorry for them? They might have been in the habit of honoring those among
themselves who were quickest to make out the shadows and those who could remember
which usually came before others so that they were best at predicting the
course of the shadows. Would he care about such honors and glories or would he
envy those who won them? Wouldn’t he rather endure anything than go back to
thinking and living like they did?
Finally, imagine that the released prisoner was taken from the light and
brought back into the cave to his old seat. His eyes would be full of darkness. Now
he would have to compete in discerning the shadows with the prisoners who had
never left the cave while his own eyes were still dim. Wouldn’t he appear ridiculous?
Men would say of him that he had gone up and had come back down with
his eyesight ruined and that it was better not even to think of ascending. In fact, if
they caught anyone trying to free them and lead them up to the light, they would
try to kill him.
I say, now, that the prison is the world we see with our eyes; the light of the fire
is like the power of our sun. The climb upward out of the cave into the upper
world is the ascent of the mind into the domain of true knowledge.
Plato, The Republic, from bk. 7. This translation copyright © 1987 by Manuel Velasquez.
