Plato's Republic: Appetite, Discipline, and Human Nature

Introduction: The Nature of Appetite

There is some truth to the idea that certain appetites are difficult to control. As animals, we seek things like food and sex, as these are among our most basic needs. As humans, we may seek some of these things to excess and indulge in them readily when they are available. There is a case to be made that our desire for recreation — alcohol, drugs, and leisure — can also be taken to extreme levels. These are also animal responses, since we have developed systems of living where many of us do not worry for our survival. The idea is that other animals, if they did not fear for their survival, would also indulge in whatever activities they find pleasant. There is evidence that some animals play, and many alpha predators — from cats to crocodiles — spend most of their time relaxing, so easily do they find food.

However, what constitutes strict control is an interesting question. Plato's idea that our appetites will take over more likely reflects the world in which he lived, among the wealthy and privileged. Such individuals, whose survival and safety were largely the work of others, would have been in a unique situation with respect to their appetites. Most people who have existed on this planet, however, have not been in a position to allow their appetites to take over. There are addicts, yes, but most people focus enough on assuring their own survival and safety that they do not allow appetites to spiral out of control. Indulgence is, for most, at best a part-time pursuit, with control never really being in serious doubt.

The discussion in Book I regarding how we transform as we age — wherein many old men lament that they no longer live as they once did — highlights Plato's views. Lauded are those who have the discipline to live a life greater than indulgence, for they are viewed as being happier in old age. As age strips away one's desires — sex drive declines, appetites for food are reduced, and the body's ability to handle drink diminishes — men who have lost control end up unhappy, while those who retained control are happier. Plato makes this observation astutely, though it is not clear that it can be reasonably extrapolated to humanity as a whole.

Plato's Moral Framework and Social Discipline

Rather, Plato appears to be writing from a moralistic perspective. This episode elaborates further: "Hope, he says, lives in the soul of him who lives in justice and holiness" — a sentiment juxtaposed with those who are enamored with their own wealth and become fearful of death as they enter old age. Such values have since become central to Western culture but appear in other cultures as well. It seems that in many human cultures, a certain moralizing occurs in which those who do not indulge feel compelled to judge those who do. The sense of superiority felt by those who judge others — because they hold a different philosophy about the value of life — is little more than a manifestation of pride. Plato's views, whether they pre-existed him or not, would go on to form part of Christian and Islamic values alike, and thus became part of the mechanism of social control.

Plato's observation can therefore be seen more as an interpretation of what makes a society function better. A disciplined society can accomplish more than an undisciplined one, so the value of discipline would have been easily recognized in ancient Greece. A disciplined society is stronger, in relative terms, than the societies around it, and that strength ensures greater security in terms of both food production and military power.

There is thus a clear logic to Plato's argument for the virtue of discipline. It is not that indulgence is inherently human, but rather that it is an undesirable trait in any society that seeks to secure its own future. A society must be at least more disciplined than those around it in order to function better. We can understand, then, why Plato argues in favor of discipline — but that alone does not prove his point that indulgence is an inherent trait of human beings.

Book IX: Animal Nature and Human Indulgence

Book IX of the Republic tackles this issue directly. Plato understands appetites to be a reflection of the animal nature of man: "then the wild beast within us, gorged with meat or drink, starts up and, having shaken off sleep, goes forth to satisfy his desires." There are two implications here. First, that these desires are animalistic in nature. Yet in nature, animals seldom engage in sloth to the degree that the indulgent classes of Plato's time would have — people who were not even concerned with their own food or security. Animals in the wild must hunt for themselves and must always be on guard against predators. Alpha predators may not worry for their own safety, but still must supply their own food. The appetites of wealthy urbanites in ancient Greece would transcend those of any animal — no animal, after all, would eat to the point of obesity, as this would render it unable to hunt.

The second implication is that there exists a clear distinction between humans and animals: the defining characteristic of man is to overcome the animalistic desires by which we are afflicted. Human beings are specifically elevated above animals, and the desired state is to be as far removed from the animal as possible. Discipline is the key to overcoming animal nature, and this line of thought reinforces the idea of discipline as virtue, since it is discipline that makes us distinctly superior.

However, there is a contradiction in this reasoning as well. In the Book I discussion of old men, the man who has overcome his animal desires is the most at peace with his life and his impending death, while the other fears both what he has lost and what he may yet lose when he dies. Yet, while the fear of death is primal, animals do not contemplate it. When their time comes, they simply allow it to happen. Animals do not suffer from the same contemplation of death that we do as humans. If the animal nature is, in fact, not to fear death — then that fear is distinctly human. This undermines part of the rationale outlined in Book I, though it may not entirely undermine the argument that discipline is virtuous. Nevertheless, the ties between these ideas weaken the ultimate claim that indulgence is inherently animalistic. The evidence points more persuasively to indulgence as a human trait — one that emerges when our basic needs are satisfied. While there are those who indulge to genuinely self-destructive extremes, that is not the norm for human behavior.

Conclusion: Lessons Still to Be Learned

There is definitely enduring value in Plato's discussions. Though many of his ideas have become ingrained in Western culture, we still fail to heed these lessons. In many cases, we simply lack the ability to interpret them in our own context. As such, we are failing to become the wise, disciplined human beings that we should be. Plato's ideas made it into our religious codes, at least to some extent, but even then there is no real progression to the next logical step. We needed to build on Plato's lessons and adapt them for a modern context, and that has not yet happened.

The theme that one can never know everything is also an important lesson to keep in mind. As a human society today, we carry a certain hubris. We have made many advancements, and while any reasonable person would acknowledge that we still know very little, many others remain entirely certain that their worldview should never be challenged. Politicians who obstruct action on climate change are a clear example — these are the indulgent, hubris-driven individuals who feel they know better than anyone else, who refuse to listen to expert advice, and who thus deliver policy based neither on evidence nor on reason. This shows that Plato's lessons have yet to be fully absorbed into our culture. Whatever one believes about the idea of animal nature, we remain undisciplined and hold our own knowledge in too high regard. We believe we are smart enough to recognize our flaws, when clearly we are not — as a whole — able to do so sufficiently to take meaningful action. It is not only politicians who contribute to our self-destruction, but all of us, addicted to a lifestyle of comfort and consumption: precisely the indulgence against which Plato tried to warn us more than 2,300 years ago.

Thus, the lessons of Plato are still to be learned. We should, of course, subject these lessons to scrutiny and philosophical rigor, but we as human beings still suffer the same traits that he recognized, and those same traits lead to the same negative outcomes he predicted — unhappiness, facile pursuits, and ultimately a failure to be fully realized as a species. These themes have been discussed many times by many thinkers since the Republic, but it is important to understand that the ideas in the Republic are sound, that they can be built upon, and that even after this much time, a great deal of work remains to be done in developing the wisdom-based society that Plato advocated.

References

Plato. The Republic. Translated by B. Jowett. Retrieved March 23, 2016, from http://classics.mit.edu/Plato/republic.2.i.html