Book II, 366–373

366a with the profits of our wrongdoing. If we are just, we will merely escape punishment from the gods, while forfeiting the gains of injustice. If we are unjust, we shall make our gains, and when we supplicate the gods for our trespasses and sins, we shall persuade them and go unpunished. But in Hades we shall pay the penalty for the wrongs we commit here, either ourselves or through our children's children. My friend, the calculating young man will reply, initiations too are powerful, and so are the gods who grant release, as the 366b greatest cities tell us, and the children of gods who became poets and prophets of the gods, and reveal that this is so.

“On what grounds, then, should we still choose justice over the greatest injustice? If we combine injustice with a counterfeit show of propriety, both gods and men will give us what we desire in life and after death, according to all these authorities, ordinary and distinguished alike. In view of everything we have said, 366c Socrates, how could anyone endowed with powers of mind, wealth, body, or birth wish to honor justice rather than laugh when he hears it praised? If a man can prove our claims false, then, and knows adequately that justice is best, he must surely have great sympathy for unjust people and feel no anger toward them. He knows that, apart from the man whose divine nature revolts at injustice or who has learned through knowledge 366d to refrain from it, no one else is just willingly: people condemn wrongdoing only through cowardice, old age, or some other weakness that keeps them from doing it. The proof is plain: the first such man to gain power is the first to do wrong, as far as his power allows. All this has one cause, the very point from which Glaucon and I began our argument to you, Socrates. My extraordinary friend, 366e none of you who profess to praise justice, from the earliest heroes whose words survive down to people today, has ever condemned injustice or praised justice except by speaking of the reputation, honors, and rewards they bring. But what each does by its own power within the soul that possesses it, unseen by gods and men, no one has ever sufficiently explored in poetry or in private speech: that injustice is the greatest evil a soul can harbor within itself, and justice its greatest good.

367a “If all of you had spoken this way from the beginning and persuaded us from childhood, we would not guard one another against doing wrong. Each would be his own best guardian, afraid that in doing wrong he would harbor the greatest evil.

“Thrasymachus, Socrates, or perhaps someone else, might say all this and more about justice and injustice, crudely reversing their powers, as it seems to me. But I speak as forcefully as I can 367b because I long to hear the opposite from you; there is no need to conceal my purpose. Do not merely show us in argument that justice is better than injustice. Show us what each does by itself to the person who has it, how the one is a good and the other an evil. Set aside reputation, as Glaucon urged. Unless you strip each of its true reputation and attach to it a false one, we will say you praise not being just but seeming just, and condemn not being unjust 367c but seeming unjust. We will say you advise a man to be unjust without being found out, and agree with Thrasymachus that justice is another's good, the advantage of the stronger, while injustice is advantageous and profitable to the man himself but harmful to the weaker. You agreed that justice is among the greatest goods, worth possessing for their consequences but far more for their own sake, like sight, 367d hearing, understanding, and health, and other goods fruitful by their own nature rather than by reputation. Praise, then, this very power in justice: the benefit it gives its possessor in itself, and the harm injustice does. Leave wages and reputations for others to praise. I could accept it from anyone else if they praised justice and condemned injustice by celebrating and denouncing their reputations and rewards. But I will not accept it from you—unless you ask me to—because you have spent your whole life 367e examining nothing else. So do not merely show us in argument that justice is better than injustice. Show us what each does by itself to the person who has it, whether gods and men see it or not, how one is a good and the other an evil.”

I had always admired the natures of Glaucon and Adeimantus, but when I heard this I was especially delighted. 368a “The lover of Glaucon,” I said, “was not wrong to begin his elegy about you, sons of that man, after your distinction in the battle at Megara, with the words:

‘Sons of Ariston, divine offspring of a renowned man.’

“That seems aptly put, my friends. For there is something truly divine in your being able to speak so powerfully for the claim that injustice is better than justice without being convinced of it. I think you really are 368b unconvinced. I judge this from the rest of your character; if I judged by your speeches alone, I would distrust you. But the more I trust you, the more at a loss I am as to what to do. I cannot see how to defend justice: I think I lack the ability, as you showed when you rejected the argument with which I thought I had established, against Thrasymachus, that justice is better than injustice. Yet I cannot leave it undefended either, for I fear it would be impious to stand by while justice is slandered 368c and give up its defense while I can still breathe and speak. So the best I can do is come to its aid as best I can.”

Glaucon and the others begged me to help in every way, not to abandon the argument, but to investigate what each of the two is and where the truth lies about their benefits. I said what seemed to me true: “The inquiry we are undertaking is no slight one; it calls, I think, for keen eyesight. Since we are not especially sharp-sighted, I suggest 368d that we investigate it as we would if someone told us to read small letters from a distance and we noticed the same letters written larger somewhere else on a larger surface. It would be a godsend, I think, to read the larger letters first, then examine the smaller to see whether they are the same.”

“Certainly,” Adeimantus said. “But what does this analogy reveal to you, 368e Socrates, about our inquiry into justice?”

“I will tell you. We say that justice belongs to a single man, but also, surely, to an entire city?”

“Certainly.”

“And a city is larger than a single man?”

“Larger,” he said.

“Perhaps, then, there will be more justice in the larger thing and it will be easier to discern. So if you wish, let us first 369a look for what justice is in cities; then we can examine it in each individual, looking for the likeness of the larger in the form of the smaller.”

“That sounds good to me,” he said.

“If we were to watch a city coming into being in speech,” I asked, “would we see its justice and injustice coming into being as well?”

“Perhaps,” he said.

“And once it has come into being, may we hope to see what we are seeking more easily?” 369b

“Much more easily.”

“Do you think, then, we should attempt it? I think it will be no small undertaking. Consider it.”

“We have considered it,” Adeimantus said. “By all means proceed.”

“A city comes into being,” I said, “because none of us is self-sufficient, but each has many needs. Can you think of any other origin for the founding of a city?”

“None,” he said. 369c

“So one person takes another into partnership for one need, and another for another. Having many needs, we gather many people into one settlement as partners and helpers, and call this common dwelling a city. Is that not so?”

“Certainly.”

“And when one person gives a share to another, or receives one, he does so because he thinks it better for himself?”

“Certainly.”

“Come, then,” I said, “let us build a city from its beginnings in speech. Our need, it seems, will build it.”

“How could it be otherwise?” 369d

“Surely the first and greatest need is the provision of food, so that we may exist and live.”

“Absolutely.”

“The second is shelter, and the third clothing and things of that kind.”

“Yes.”

“Come then,” I said, “how will the city provide for all this? Will one person be a farmer, another a builder, and another a weaver? Shall we add a shoemaker too, or someone else to tend to the body's needs?”

“Certainly.”

“The city in its most necessary form, then, would consist of four or five people.” 369e

“It seems so.”

“Now what? Must each of these contribute his work for them all to share? Must the farmer, for example, though he is one man, produce food for four, spend four times as much time and effort on it, and share it with the others? Or should he ignore them, produce a quarter as much 370a food for himself in a quarter of the time, and spend the other three quarters on building his house, making his clothes, and making his shoes, attending to his own affairs without sharing in the work of others?”

“Perhaps, Socrates,” Adeimantus said, “the first way is easier.”

“By Zeus, there is nothing strange in that,” I said. “Now that you mention it, I too see that, first of all, none of us is born exactly 370b like anyone else; our natures differ, and different people are suited to different tasks. Do you not think so?”

“I do.”

“Which person will work better: one who practices many crafts, or one who practices one?”

“One who practices one,” he said.

“And surely it is plain that if someone misses the right moment for a task, the work is spoiled.”

“Plain enough.”

“The work, I think, will not wait for the worker's leisure. The worker must 370c attend to it when it demands, not treat it as a sideline.”

“He must.”

“So more of everything is produced, and better and more easily, when each person performs one task suited to his nature, at the right time, free from other work.”

“Absolutely.”

“Then, Adeimantus, we need more than four citizens to provide what we mentioned. The farmer, it seems, will not make his own plow, if it is to be a good one, 370d or his hoe, or all the other implements of farming. Nor will the builder make his tools; he too needs many. The same goes for the weaver and the shoemaker, does it not?”

“True.”

“Carpenters, smiths, and many such craftsmen will join our little settlement and make it a sizable place.”

“Certainly.”

“Still, it would not yet be very large even if we added cowherds, shepherds, and keepers of other livestock: then farmers could have oxen to plow, builders could share with farmers in using beasts of burden for transport, 370e and weavers and shoemakers could have hides and wool.”

“But a city with all these people would not be small,” he said.

“Yet it is nearly impossible to found a city in a place where it will need no imports.”

“Impossible.”

“It will need still more people, then, to bring it what it requires from other cities.”

“It will.”

“But if a carrier goes empty-handed, bringing nothing those people need in exchange for the goods 371a our citizens need from them, he will return empty-handed. Is that not so?”

“I think so.”

“So they must produce at home not only enough for themselves, but goods of the kinds and in the quantities that their suppliers need.”

“They must.”

“Our city needs more farmers and other craftsmen, then.”

“Yes, more.”

“And more carriers too, to bring goods in and take them out. These are merchants, are they not?”

“Yes.”

“So we shall need merchants.”

“Certainly.”

“If the trade goes by sea, we shall also need a considerable number 371b of others who know the work of the sea.”

“A considerable number indeed.”

“And within the city itself, how will they exchange the products of their labor? Exchange was the very reason we formed a community and founded a city.”

“Obviously,” he said, “by buying and selling.”

“Then this gives us a marketplace and money as a token of exchange.”

“Certainly.” 371c

“Suppose a farmer or another craftsman brings something he has made to market, but does not arrive at the same time as those who want to trade for it. Will he sit idle in the market, away from his craft?”

“Not at all,” he said. “People who see this need appoint themselves to the task. In well-governed cities they are generally those least strong in body and unfit for other work. They must remain there 371d in the market: from those who wish to sell, they buy goods for money, and to those who wish to buy, they sell goods for money.”

“Then this need gives rise to retailers in our city,” I said. “Do we not call those who stay in the marketplace to serve buyers and sellers retailers, and those who travel between cities merchants?”

“Certainly.” 371e

“There are also, I think, other helpers who are not especially valuable partners in matters of the mind, but whose bodies are strong enough for hard work. They sell the use of their strength, call its price a wage, and are, I believe, called wage laborers. Is that right?”

“Certainly.”

“Wage laborers too, it seems, complete the city.”

“I think so.”

“Well, Adeimantus, has our city now grown enough to be complete?”

“Perhaps.”

“Where, then, might justice and injustice be in it? And in which of the things we have considered did they arise together?”

372a “I do not see, Socrates,” he said, “unless perhaps in some need these people have for one another.”

“Perhaps you are right,” I said. “We must examine it and not shrink from the task.

“First, let us see how people furnished in this way will live. They will surely produce grain and wine, clothing and shoes; they will build houses, and in summer mostly work barefoot and lightly clad, but in 372b winter adequately clothed and shod. For food they will grind barley into meal and wheat into flour, bake some and knead some, and set out fine barley cakes and bread on reeds or clean leaves. Reclining on beds of leaves strewn with bryony and myrtle, they will feast with their children, drink wine, wear garlands, and sing hymns to the gods. They will enjoy one another's company and have no more children than their means allow, guarding against poverty or war.” 372c

Glaucon interrupted. “You seem to be serving these people a feast without anything to eat with their bread.”

“You are right,” I said. “I forgot that they will have accompaniments too: salt, olives, and cheese, of course, and they will boil onions and greens such as people cook in the country. We shall serve them dessert as well—figs, chickpeas, and beans—and they will roast myrtle berries and acorns 372d by the fire, sipping their wine in moderation. Living thus in peace and health, they will probably reach old age and die, bequeathing a life like their own to their descendants.”

“If you were founding a city of pigs, Socrates,” he said, “what else would you feed them?”

“How should I feed them, Glaucon?” I asked.

“In the customary way,” he said. “If they are not to live miserably, I imagine they should recline on couches and dine at tables, and have the accompaniments and desserts people have nowadays.” 372e

“Very well,” I said. “I understand. We are looking at the origin not just of a city, it seems, but of a luxurious city. Perhaps that is no bad thing: by examining such a city, we may soon see how justice and injustice take root in cities. The true city, as I see it, is the one we have described, as healthy as a body. But if you wish, we can look at a fevered city too; nothing prevents us.

373a “For some people, it seems, what we have described and that way of life will not suffice. They will add couches, tables and other furnishings, rich foods, perfumes, incense, courtesans, and pastries, each in every variety. And the things we first spoke of—houses, clothes, and shoes—must no longer be provided merely as necessities. We must set painting and embroidery to work and acquire gold, ivory, and everything of the sort. Is that not so?” 373b

“Yes,” he said.

“So the city must be made larger again. That healthy city is no longer enough; it must now be filled with the mass and multitude of things no city needs for bare necessity: hunters of every kind and imitators, many who work in shapes and colors, many in music—poets and their attendants, reciters, actors, dancers, and producers; craftsmen making every kind of equipment, including the adornments 373c of women. We shall also need more servants. Do you not think we will need tutors, wet nurses, nurses, dressers, barbers, cooks, and chefs? We shall need swineherds too: there were none in the earlier city, for there was no need, but we will need them in this one. We shall also need very many other kinds of livestock, if anyone is to eat them. Is that not so?”

“How could it be otherwise?” 373d

“And living like this, will we not have far greater need of doctors than before?”

“Far greater.”

“And the land that was sufficient to feed our people before will now be too small. Is that how it stands?”

“It is,” he said.

“Then we will have to carve off a part of our neighbors' land, if we are to have enough for pasture and plowing, and they in turn will have to take some of ours, if they too give themselves over to the unlimited acquisition of wealth and pass beyond the limits of necessity.” 373e

“Inevitably, Socrates,” he said.

“Will we go to war after that, Glaucon? Or what will happen?”

“That is what will happen,” he said.

“Let us not yet say whether war brings good or evil,” I said. “Let us say only that we have found the origin of war, the source of the greatest evils that befall cities, both in private and in public, whenever they arise.”

“Certainly.”

“Then, my friend, our city must grow larger still, and by no small amount,

366a “from what we gain by wrongdoing. If we're just, all we'll get from the gods is freedom from punishment, while passing up the profits of injustice. If we're unjust, we'll profit; and when we've gone too far and done wrong, we'll pray to the gods, persuade them, and escape punishment. ‘But in Hades we'll be punished for the wrongs we've committed here, either ourselves or through our children's children.’ My friend, a young man reasoning this through will reply, the initiation rites have great power, and so do the gods who grant release. The greatest cities say so, 366b as do the poets who are children of gods and have become their prophets. They tell us that this is how things work.

“So what reason remains for choosing justice over the greatest injustice? If we get hold of injustice and cover it with a false appearance of decency, things will go as we wish with gods and humans alike, both while we live and after we die. That's what many people, including leading people, tell us. In light of everything said, 366c how could anyone with strength of mind, wealth, bodily strength, or good birth be willing to honor justice, rather than laugh when he hears it praised? Even a person who can show that what we've said is false, and who knows well that justice is best, will surely have a lot of sympathy for the unjust, not anger. He knows that, apart from someone who has a god-given dislike of wrongdoing or who has learned to avoid it through knowledge, 366d nobody else is just willingly. A person condemns injustice because he is too cowardly, too old, or too weak in some other way to do wrong himself. That's plain to see: as soon as one of those people gains power, he starts doing wrong as much as he can.

“And there's only one reason for all this, the very reason my brother and I began this whole argument with you, Socrates. It's this: astonishing as it is, of all 366e of you who claim to praise justice, from the earliest heroes whose words survive down to the people of today, not one has ever blamed injustice or praised justice for anything but the reputations, honors, and rewards they bring. No one has ever given an adequate account, either in poetry or in ordinary speech, of what each does by its own power when present in a person's soul, unseen by gods and humans. No one has shown that injustice is the greatest evil a soul can contain and justice its greatest good.

367a “If you had all told us this from the beginning and convinced us of it while we were young, we wouldn't be watching one another to prevent wrongdoing. Each of us would be his own best guard, afraid that if he acted unjustly he'd have to live with the greatest evil.

“Socrates, Thrasymachus or anyone else might say all this and perhaps much more about justice and injustice, crudely reversing their real effects, as it seems to me. But I speak as forcefully as I can, 367b because I want to hear you make the opposite case. There's no point in hiding that from you. So don't just show us in an argument that justice is better than injustice. Show us what each does to the person who has it, how one is good and the other bad in itself. Leave reputation out of it, as Glaucon urged. If you don't strip each one of its true reputation and give it a false one, we'll say you're praising the appearance of being just, not justice itself, and condemning the appearance of being unjust, not injustice itself. 367c We'll say you're telling unjust people to hide what they are. You'd be agreeing with Thrasymachus that justice is good for someone else, advantageous to the stronger, while injustice benefits the person who commits it and is bad for the weaker person.

“You've agreed that justice is among the greatest goods: the kind worth having both for their results and, much more, for their own sake, like sight, hearing, understanding, and health, 367d and all the other goods that are fruitful by their own nature, not because of reputation. So praise this very thing about justice: the benefit it brings someone who has it in itself, and the harm injustice brings. Let others praise rewards and reputations. I could accept it from other people if they praise justice and condemn injustice that way, celebrating and attacking the reputations and rewards they bring. But I won't accept it from you, unless you tell me to, because you've spent your whole life 367e studying exactly this question. So don't just demonstrate to us that justice is better than injustice. Show us what each does by itself to the person who has it, whether or not gods and humans know about it, making one good and the other bad.”

I listened. I'd always admired Glaucon's and Adeimantus's character, but now I was especially delighted.

368a “Sons of that man,” I said, “Glaucon's admirer chose a fitting opening for his poem about you, after you distinguished yourselves in the battle at Megara. He said, ‘Sons of Ariston, godlike children of a famous man.’ Friends, I think that is right. There's something remarkable about you if, despite being able to argue so powerfully for injustice, you aren't convinced that it's better than justice. And I believe 368b you really aren't convinced. I judge from your whole way of life; if I had only your words to go by, I'd have doubted you. But the more I trust you, the more I'm at a loss about what to do. I don't know how to defend justice. I don't think I'm capable of it: you rejected what I said to Thrasymachus when I thought I had shown that justice is better than injustice. But I don't know how not to defend it either. I'm afraid it would be wrong to stand by while justice is attacked 368c and give up without helping her, when I can still breathe and speak. So the best thing is to do what I can in her defense.”

Glaucon and the others urged me to defend justice in every way and not to drop the discussion. They wanted us to examine what justice and injustice each are and settle the truth about the benefit of each. So I told them what I thought: the question we've taken on isn't simple. It seems to require sharp eyesight. 368d Since our eyesight isn't that good, I suggested we investigate it as we would if someone had told people who couldn't see very well to read small letters from a distance. Suppose someone noticed that the same letters were written somewhere else in larger print and on a larger surface. What a piece of luck that would be! They could read the large letters first, then examine the smaller ones to see whether they're the same.

“Certainly,” said Adeimantus. “But, Socrates, 368e what has that to do with our search for justice?”

“I'll tell you. We say there is justice in one person, but also, presumably, in a whole city, don't we?”

“Yes.”

“And a city is larger than a person?”

“Larger.”

“Then perhaps there is more justice in the larger thing, where it may be easier to understand. If you like, let's look for its character first 369a in cities. Then we can examine it in each individual, comparing the likeness of the larger thing with its form in the smaller one.”

“That sounds good to me,” he said.

“Then if we watch a city coming into being in our discussion, will we also see its justice and injustice coming into being?”

“Perhaps,” he said.

“And once the city has formed, should it be easier to see what we're looking for?” 369b

“Much easier.”

“Should we try to carry this out, then? I think it's quite a job, so consider it.”

“I've considered it,” Adeimantus said. “Just go ahead.”

“I think a city comes into being because no one of us is self-sufficient. Each of us needs many things. Can you think of any other reason for founding a city?”

“No.” 369c

“Because we need other people for different things, each of us takes on another as a helper. We have many needs, and gather many people into one place to live together as partners and helpers. We call this shared settlement a city. Right?”

“Right.”

“And when one person gives something to another or receives something in return, he does so because he thinks it's better for himself?”

“Yes.”

“Come on, then. Let's build a city from its beginning in our discussion. It seems our needs will build it.”

“Of course.” 369d

“Our first and greatest need is food, so that we can exist and stay alive.”

“Absolutely.”

“Next comes housing, and third comes clothing and things like it.”

“That's right.”

“Now then, how will the city provide all this? Won't it need one farmer, one builder, and another person to weave? Shall we add a shoemaker too, or someone else who looks after bodily needs?”

“Yes.”

“The most basic city would have four or five people.” 369e

“So it seems.”

“Well, then, should each one contribute his work to everyone? Should a single farmer produce food for four people, spending four times as long and working four times as hard to produce food to share? Or should he ignore the others and produce only a quarter as much food for himself in a quarter of the time, then spend the other three quarters, one on building his home, one on making clothes, and one on making shoes? On that plan he would have no need to share with others, but would take care of his own needs himself.” 370a

Adeimantus said, “Socrates, perhaps the first way is easier.”

“That wouldn't be surprising, by Zeus. What you say reminds me that, to begin with, we're not all born alike. Our natural abilities differ, and different people are suited to different jobs. Don't you agree?” 370b

“I do.”

“Now, does one person do better if he works at many trades, or if he sticks to one?”

“If he sticks to one,” he said.

“And I think it's clear that if someone misses the right time to do a job, the work is spoiled.”

“Clearly.”

“The work won't wait until the worker has spare time. He has to attend to it 370c as his main concern, not as a side job.”

“He does.”

“So more things will be produced, and produced better and more easily, when each person does one job that suits his nature, at the right time, free from other work.”

“Absolutely.”

“So, Adeimantus, we'll need more than four citizens to provide the things we were talking about. If the farmer is going to have a good plow, 370d he won't make it himself, or his hoe, or his other farming tools. The builder won't make his own tools either; he needs a lot of them. The weaver and the shoemaker are in the same position. Right?”

“True.”

“Then carpenters, metalworkers, and many other craftsmen will join our little city as partners and make it quite large.”

“Yes.”

“Still, it wouldn't be very large even if we added cattle herders, shepherds, and other animal keepers. That way the farmers would have oxen to plow with. The builders and farmers could use draft animals for transport, 370e and the weavers and shoemakers would have hides and wool.”

“But a city with all that wouldn't be small,” he said.

“Now, it would be almost impossible to settle this city in a place where it needed nothing from outside.”

“Impossible.”

“So we'll need still more people to bring it what it needs from another city.”

“We will.”

“But if a person making these trips arrives empty-handed, bringing nothing that the suppliers need 371a in exchange for what our people need, he'll go away empty-handed too, won't he?”

“I think so.”

“So we must produce at home not only enough for ourselves but also the kinds and amounts of goods those others need.”

“We must.”

“Then our city needs more farmers and other craftsmen.”

“Yes, more.”

“And more people to handle the movement of goods in and out. Those are merchants, aren't they?”

“Yes.”

“So we'll need merchants.”

“Certainly.”

“And if the trade goes by sea, we'll need quite a lot 371b of other people who know how to work at sea.”

“Quite a lot.”

“Now, inside the city itself, how will people exchange what each of them makes? After all, we built the city and formed our partnership so that they could do just that.”

“Obviously by buying and selling,” he said.

“That will bring us a marketplace and a currency to use as a means of exchange.”

“Of course.” 371c

“Suppose a farmer or some other craftsman brings what he makes to the marketplace, but the people who need to trade with him don't arrive at the same time. Will he sit in the market idle instead of doing his work?”

“Not at all. Some people recognize this need and take on the job themselves. In well-run cities, they are usually the people least able to do physical work and unfit for other jobs. They stay 371d at the marketplace and give out goods to people who need to buy them, in exchange for money. In turn, they give money to those who bring goods for sale.”

“So this need creates retailers in our city. Don't we call the people stationed in the marketplace to buy and sell retailers, and those who travel between cities merchants?”

“Yes.” 371e

“I think there are other workers as well. They may not have much to contribute through their minds, but they have enough bodily strength for hard work. They sell the use of that strength, call its price wages, and are therefore known as wage laborers. Right?”

“Yes.”

“It seems, then, that wage laborers also help fill out a city.”

“I think so.”

“So, Adeimantus, has our city grown enough to be complete?”

“Perhaps.”

“Where would justice and injustice be in it? And along with which of the things we've discussed did they appear?”

372a “I can't see, Socrates,” he said, “unless it's somewhere in the way these people need one another.”

“Perhaps you're right. We must look and not give up. First, let's see how people in this city will live. They'll produce grain, wine, clothes, and shoes, won't they? After building their houses, they'll usually work barefoot and lightly dressed in summer, and they'll have adequate clothing and shoes in winter. 372b They'll prepare barley meal and wheat flour for food, baking and kneading it into good loaves and barley cakes. They'll lay these out on reeds or clean leaves. Then they'll recline on beds of leaves covered with greenbrier and myrtle, feasting with their children. They'll drink wine with their meals, wear wreaths, sing hymns to the gods, and enjoy one another's company. They'll have no more children than they can support, because they'll be careful to avoid poverty or war.” 372c

Glaucon interrupted. “It looks like you're serving these people a meal with no side dishes.”

“You're right,” I said. “I forgot that they'll have side dishes too. They'll have salt, of course, and olives and cheese. They'll cook onions, vegetables, and the sorts of things people boil in the countryside. For dessert we'll serve them figs, chickpeas, and beans. They'll roast myrtle berries and acorns 372d by the fire and drink wine in moderation. Living this way in peace and good health, they'll probably reach old age and leave their children a life like their own.”

“But if you were setting up a city of pigs, Socrates,” he said, “what else would you feed them?”

“What should I do instead, Glaucon?” I asked.

“Give them the usual things,” he said. “If they're not going to live in discomfort, they should recline on couches, eat from tables, and have the side dishes and desserts that people have today.” 372e

“All right,” I said. “I understand. It seems we aren't looking only at how a city starts. We're looking at a luxurious city too. Perhaps that's not a bad idea. By examining a city like that, we may see how justice and injustice develop in cities. The true city, as I see it, is the one we just described. It's like a healthy city. But if you want, let's look at a city that's sick with excess too. Nothing prevents us.

373a “For some people, it seems, the things we described and that way of life won't be enough. They'll add couches, tables, and other furniture, as well as rich food, perfumes, incense, courtesans, and cakes, with every sort of each. Houses, clothes, and shoes, which we named at the start, will no longer count as just necessities. We'll bring in painting and decoration, and acquire gold, ivory, and everything like that. Right?” 373b

“Yes,” he said.

“Then we must enlarge the city again. That healthy city is no longer big enough. We must swell it with crowds of people whose occupations aren't necessary: hunters of every kind, imitators, many artists who make shapes and colors, and many who work in music. We'll need poets and those who serve them, reciters, actors, dancers, contractors, and makers of all kinds of things, including things 373c used to adorn women. We'll also need more helpers: tutors, wet nurses, child minders, hairdressers, barbers, cooks who prepare side dishes, and chefs. We'll need swineherds too. We didn't need them in the earlier city, so we had none; this city will need them. And it will need a great many other livestock, if people are going to eat meat. Won't it?”

“Of course.” 373d

“And if we live like this, won't we have a much greater need for doctors than before?”

“Much greater.”

“And the land that was enough to feed our people before will no longer be large enough. What do you say?”

“That's right,” he said.

“Then we'll have to take some of our neighbors' land if we want enough for pasture and farming. And they'll have to take some of ours if they, too, give themselves over to acquiring unlimited wealth and go beyond the limits of what they need.” 373e

“They certainly will, Socrates.”

“So next we'll go to war, Glaucon. Isn't that how it will be?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Let's not yet say whether war does any good or harm. For now let's say only that we've discovered the origin of war, the source of the greatest harms to cities and to individuals when it breaks out.”

“Absolutely.”

“Now, my friend, we must enlarge the city once more, and not by a little,”