Sophists in the Manosphere

An excerpt from How to Think Like Socrates

In the following modified excerpts from my recent book, How to Think Like Socrates, I discuss some similarities in the language used by ancient Sophists and modern influencers in the Manosphere. The ancient Sophists mainly earned a living by teaching privileged adolescent boys. Perhaps inevitably, they appear at times to have exploited their young students’ natural insecurities about being sufficiently manly.

The first excerpt below comes from the Introduction and sets the stage for a series of excerpts from a dialogue between Socrates and several Sophists. This conversation is closely based on the text of Plato’s Gorgias. Classical scholars have noted that Plato appears to drop several hints that the characters in this dialogue are meant to be taken as representative of a class of young men, influenced by the Sophists, who include certain well-known Athenian statesmen. In these excerpts, I therefore took the liberty of attributing the arguments to one of the most controversial of these historical figures, one of the so-called Thirty Tyrants, known as Critias.

Ancient Athens and Modern Society

As I became more interested in Socrates’s life and the period in which he lived, I was struck by how many parallels there are with recent history. The Athens of Socrates was a fledgling democracy, in which the basic strengths and weaknesses of that system were laid bare. Their city initially flourished, and built up strong alliances, under the leadership of great statesmen, in whom the people believed wholeheartedly. Following the outbreak of a great war and a devastating pandemic, however, their trust in government was shaken, leading to a split between two political factions that became more extreme and polarized as they fought for control of the state. The political and legal systems of Athens strained under the weight of corruption, as their flaws were exploited to the maximum. Demagogues soon realized that populist measures and emotive rhetoric could be used to manipulate the people and to swing votes in the Assembly, by pandering to human weaknesses such as greed, fear, and anger.

Professional advisors, the Sophists, became increasingly famous, and staggeringly wealthy, by teaching politicians the art of persuasion. These men gave celebrated speeches themselves, which often exploited common insecurities and prejudices. A curious hybrid of political and self-improvement rhetoric evolved, which encouraged privileged young men to view contempt for their perceived inferiors as something “strong” and “manly.” The violent suppression of foreign nations abroad and total loss of faith in the democratic process at home led, in due course, to armed coups, political purges, and even civil war. Socrates didn’t explicitly align himself with any political faction or system of government, but rather his main concern was whether or not those wielding power possessed the wisdom and virtue that might make them competent to be in charge. He was, however, forced to watch as Athenian democracy was first hijacked by demagogues and then reverted to an “oligarchy,” or rule by the few, which ultimately collapsed into “tyranny,” or what we call “authoritarianism.”

The recent Netflix series Adolescence touched on the similar issues

Socrates versus the Sophists

Critias on Manliness

“The words of a political orator,” Socrates had said, “are made to twist this way and that, just to avoid displeasing the people by contradicting their changing mood. Philosophy never changes. Her statements may appear surprising and paradoxical, but they are consistent. She tells us that committing wrongdoing is a worse evil than suffering it at the hands of another. And I swear by the dog, Critias, that if you allow her assertion to go unrefuted, you will never be at peace with yourself. For my own part, I would rather be out of tune with a whole chorus, and have the rest of humankind contradict me, than be out of tune with a single individual, by contradicting myself.”

“Socrates,” replied Critias, “you sound like a demagogue yourself. Despite what you just said about disregarding the chorus of humankind, your whole argument depends upon an appeal to popular opinion. In nature, real men never become victims, because they are strong. Hence, being the victim of injustice is a greater evil than committing injustice.

“When wronged and insulted those who are weak and slavish can neither defend themselves nor anyone for whom they care. For this reason, the weak, who are many, have conspired against the strong, who are few, by making up moral conventions concerning what is just. For instance, the majority fabricated the idea that it is unjust and shameful for the strong to take a greater share. Throughout history, however, the strong have asserted their right to conquer the weak. They take what they like, in accord with the law of nature, and against the laws and conventions established by their inferiors.”

Critias continued: “In order to indoctrinate everyone in these rules, the Athenian people take the best and strongest men and, from an early age, tame them just as men tame lion cubs reared among them. They enslave them by teaching them that men ought to be equal and other unnatural nonsense. Whenever a man is born who is sufficiently strong, though, he shakes off these spells, breaks his chains, and tramples on their conventions. From time to time, a great man will dazzle the people by revealing himself to be their master rather than their slave. The law of nature, as Pindar says, rules over men and gods alike, and has set it down once and for all that might is right.

“You are only blinded to the truth of this by your love of philosophy, a pleasant game for children, perhaps, but one sure to ruin you if you keep it up much longer. Indeed, no matter how naturally talented a youth may be, if he wastes his time in your company studying philosophy, he will never become a real man. He will never be respected by his inferiors and will lack any influence in the courts and Assembly. That is what is shameful, Socrates. I feel toward your students as I do toward grown men who talk with a lisp like some little child— they deserve to be whipped for such unmanly behavior!

“Now, I like you, Socrates,” said Critias, looking down his nose, “so let me give you some advice. You have neglected yourself when it comes to rhetoric and oratory. Your noble soul appears to others like that of a foolish child because of the unsophisticated manner in which you speak. You cannot contribute a single word of value to the deliberations of a court or persuade a single citizen in the Assembly of your cause. So do not take offense at my frankness. Are you not ashamed of the plight you find yourself in because of your philosophy? If someone were to have you arrested and dragged off to prison right now, you would be completely helpless. You would stand in court with your mouth gaping open, without the words to defend yourself. No matter how false and unjust the charges, if the prosecution uses rhetoric, and they want you to die, the jury will condemn you to die.”

Socrates Replies

Socrates smiled. “Critias, I thank you,” he said, “for I have come to believe that if I wish to test whether I am living well or badly, I require three qualities from a partner in conversation: wisdom, goodwill, and frankness. Gorgias and Alcibiades may be wise and well-intentioned but, as you observed, they did not speak freely enough. They were ashamed of contradicting social conventions but ended up contradicting themselves. I doubt, by contrast, that you would ever be inhibited by shame. So if I can convince you to agree with me, my friend, we shall know we have indeed arrived at the truth.

“Let’s start by clarifying how you define natural justice. Am I correct that you believe this consists in the stronger taking the property of the weaker by force, the better ruling over the worse, and nobles having more than the common people— that might is right?” Critias agreed. Socrates next asked if Critias was saying that “better” and “stronger” were the same. Critias explained that a larger city attacking a smaller one is both stronger and better, as it deserves to win. “Surely,” said Socrates, “just as a large city is stronger than a small one, the common people, who are many, are stronger than the nobles, who are few?” Critias waited a moment, then nodded.

“Then,” said Socrates, “the laws imposed by the stronger are the same as those imposed by the majority. The majority, according to you, believe that justice consists in equality and that it is a more shameful thing to do what is unjust than to suffer injustice. Surely it follows that these beliefs are derived not only from convention but also, as you would have it, from nature? You said earlier that convention and nature are opposed in this regard but now you seem, do you not, to be contradicting yourself?”

“There is no end to this rubbish!” scoffed Critias. “Are you not ashamed, Socrates, to be playing word games? I told you that by stronger I meant better. Did you really think I meant that if you gathered together a heap of slaves and common rabble, with muscle but no brains, that whatever they say should have the force of law?” “Let me help,” said Socrates. “Did you actually mean wiser, and better, rulers, when you said stronger men?” “Of course,” said Critias. “So one wise man is superior to thousands of fools, and should rule them like a tyrant, and take the lion’s share of everything they own?” “Exactly,” said Critias, “natural justice consists in wiser and better men ruling over their inferiors.”

“Suppose many of us gathered with a large amount of food, and someone present was a physician with expertise in the field of human nutrition. Would he be wise simply to claim the lion’s share of the food and consume it all himself? Or would wisdom consist in distributing to each person, including himself, the most appropriate amount of food, for the benefit of each individual’s health? Does wisdom consist in exercising rational moderation or indulging in excess?” “You’re going on about food and drink, and other such nonsense, but that’s not what I meant,” complained Critias. “We are talking about expertise,” he added, “in running the affairs of the whole city.” “So what you intended to say is that the better men are wiser with regard to ruling cities?” asked Socrates. Critias agreed.

“Well, then, is there no need for self-mastery as long as one is master of others?” asked Socrates. “What do you mean?” said Critias. “Do your rulers rule themselves wisely?” asked Socrates. Critias frowned irritably, his head cocked to one side. “How can you be happy if you have to deny yourself pleasure?” he exclaimed. “Any man who actually wants to live like a man ought to go out and satisfy his appetites as much as he likes. The majority just lack the strength to do this. They may praise moderation but it is not a ‘virtue’ fit for free men. In all truth, Socrates, to those who wield absolute power, such as political tyrants, what could be more disgraceful than moderation and justice? No real man would voluntarily subjugate himself to the values of slaves. Your idea of self-mastery is contrary to nature. It is a lie invented by the naturally slavish and weak who joined forces in a conspiracy against their masters, the strong, in an attempt to shame them into submission.”

“Many people share these opinions,” said Socrates, “but are too ashamed to state them in public. So again, I am grateful to you, my friend, for your frankness. You are saying that the strong should indulge their passions and appetites as much as they like, are you not?” “Of course!” snorted Critias, as if what he said were common sense. “Answer me this,” said Socrates, “does a man who has an itch, and the power to scratch it as often as he likes, live a good life in that regard?” “How bizarre of you, Socrates,” replied Critias, “and how vulgar but, yes, let us say that even a man who scratches constantly would live a pleasant and happy life!”

“Don’t you see that admitting your mistakes, for the health of your own soul, is like swallowing bitter medicine for the good of your body?” said Socrates. “I’m not remotely interested, Socrates,” Critias scoffed. “They say you shouldn’t leave a story half told,” smiled the philosopher. “I’m not answering any more of these childish questions, Socrates,” snapped Critias. “In that case,” said Socrates, “I must take your place and answer my own questions if I want to finish our discussion. I do so, however, on condition that you all agree to challenge me if I say anything that appears false. If you prove me wrong, I will consider you among my greatest benefactors.” Gorgias and the others agreed.

Socrates Concludes

“Listen then as I recap. Critias and I agreed that pleasure cannot be identical with the good. A good man will be just and moderate, and he will therefore flourish. Such a person will be the opposite of the unrestrained tyrant whose freedom you earlier praised. The unjust and unrestrained man will not deserve and will never truly acquire the love and friendship of his fellow men. Wise men recognize, Critias, that the world is organized by the laws of nature, and humankind is organized by communities and bonds of friendship. So the law of nature is not really selfish as you claimed but rather embraces moderation, justice, and friendship toward others.

“What you accused Alcibiades of admitting out of shame turns out to be true after all: inflicting injustice is not only more shameful but also does us more harm than suffering injustice at another’s hands. A good orator must therefore be wise and just himself, and understand what is right and wrong, before attempting to influence others. Only someone who has studied justice, such as a philosopher, would be qualified to employ oratory for good. Otherwise, a political orator, who is ignorant of what is actually good for the citizens, merely persuades them of what appears right to him.”

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How to Think Like Socrates is now available from all good bookstores, in ebook, and hardback formats. You can listen to a preview of the audiobook on Audible.