What would you do if you could become invisible? Would you still play by the rules? Are we good only because others can see us? With the story of Gyges and his magical ring, Plato introduces one of the fundamental questions of ethics.
This is the beginning episode in the “Ethics Tutorial” miniseries.
Episode notes:
- Original art and music.
- This episode contains no significant spoilers — except for the story of Gyges himself, of course.
Here’s the actual text of “The Ring of Gyges” (Plato: Republic, Book 2; Translation by Benjamin Jowett)
(Socrates’ friend Glaucon is speaking.)
Now that those who practise justice do so involuntarily and because they have not the power to be unjust will best appear if we imagine something of this kind: having given both to the just and the unjust power to do what they will, let us watch and see whither desire will lead them; then we shall discover in the very act the just and unjust man to be proceeding along the same road, following their interest, which all natures deem to be their good, and are only diverted into the path of justice by the force of law.
The liberty which we are supposing may be most completely given to them in the form of such a power as is said to have been possessed by Gyges, the ancestor of Croesus the Lydian. According to the tradition, Gyges was a shepherd in the service of the kind of Lydia; there was a great storm, and an earthquake made an opening in the earth at the place where he was feeding his flock. Amazed at the sight, he descended into the opening, where, among other marvels, he beheld a hollow brazen horse, having doors, at which he stooping and looking in saw a dead body of stature, as appeared to him, more than human, and having nothing on but a gold ring; this he took from the finger of the dead and reascended. Now the shepherds met together, according to custom, that they might send their monthly report about the flocks to the king; into their assembly he came having the ring on his finger, and as he was sitting among them he chanced to turn the collet of the ring inside his hand, when instantly he became invisible to the rest of the company and they began to speak of him as if he were no longer present. He was astonished at this, and again touching the ring he turned the collet outwards and reappeared; he made several trials of the ring, and always with the same result—when he turned the collet inwards he became invisible, when outwards he reappeared. Whereupon he contrived to be chosen one of the messengers who were sent to the court; where as soon as he arrived he seduced the queen, and with her help conspired against the king and slew him, and took the kingdom.
Suppose now that there were two such magic rings, and the just put on one of them and the unjust the other; no man can be imagined to be of such an iron nature that he would stand fast in justice. No man would keep his hands off what was not his own when he could safely take what he liked out of the market, or go into houses and lie with any one at his pleasure, or kill or release from prison whom he would, and in all respects be like a God among men. Then the actions of the just would be as the actions of the unjust; they would both come at last to the same point. And this we may truly affirm to be a great proof that a man is just, not willingly or because he thinks that justice is any good to him individually, but of necessity, for wherever any one thinks that he can safely be unjust, there he is unjust. For all men believe in their hearts that injustice is far more profitable to the individual than justice, and he who argues as I have been supposing, will say that they are right. If you could imagine any one obtaining this power of becoming invisible, and never doing any wrong or touching what was another’s, he would be thought by the lookers-on to be a most wretched idiot, although they would praise him to one another’s faces, and keep up appearances with one another from a fear that they too might suffer injustice. Enough of this.
Now, if we are to form a real judgment of the life of the just and unjust, we must isolate them; there is no other way; and how is the isolation to be effected? I answer: Let the unjust man be entirely unjust, and the just man entirely just; nothing is to be taken away from either of them, and both are to be perfectly furnished for the work of their respective lives. First let the unjust be like other distinguished masters of craft; like the skilful pilot or, who knows intuitively his own powers and keeps within their limits, and who, if he fails at any point, is able to recover himself. So let the unjust make his unjust attempts in the right way, and lie hidden if he means to be great in his injustice: (he who is found out is nobody:) for the highest reach of injustice is, to be deemed just when you are not.
Therefore I say that in the perfectly unjust man we must assume the most perfect injustice; there is to be no deduction, but we must allow him, while doing the most unjust acts, to have acquired the greatest reputation for justice. If he have taken a false step he must be able to recover himself; he must be one who can speak with effect, if any of his deeds come to light, and who can force his way where force is required by his courage and strength, and command of money and friends. And at his side let us place the just man in his nobleness and simplicity, wishing as Aeschylus says, to be and not to seem good. There must be no seeming, for if he seem to be just he will be honoured and rewarded, and then we shall not know whether he is just for the sake of justice or for the sake of honours and rewards; therefore, let him be clothed in justice only, and have no other covering; and he must be imagined in a state of life the opposite of the former. Let him be the best of men, and let him be thought the worst; then he will have been put to the proof; and we shall see whether he will be affected by the fear of infamy and its consequences. And let him continue thus to the hour of death; being just and seeming to be unjust. When both have reached the uttermost extreme, the one of justice and the other of injustice, let judgment be given which of them is the happier of the two. […]
And now that we know what they are like there is no difficulty in tracing out the sort of life which awaits either of them. This I will proceed to describe; but as you may think the description a little too coarse, I ask you to suppose, Socrates, that the words which follow are not mine.—Let me put them into the mouths of the eulogists of injustice: They will tell you that the just man who is thought unjust will be scourged, racked, bound—will have his eyes burnt out; and, at last, after suffering every kind of evil, he will be impaled: Then he will understand that he ought to seem only, and not to be, just; the words of Aeschylus may be more truly spoken of the unjust than of the just. For the unjust is pursuing a reality; he does not live with a view to appearances—he wants to be really unjust and not to seem only:—
‘His mind has a soil deep and fertile,
Out of which spring his prudent counsels.’
In the first place, he is thought just, and therefore bears rule in the city; he can marry whom he will, and give in marriage to whom he will; also he can trade and deal where he likes, and always to his own advantage, because he has no misgivings about injustice; and at every contest, whether in public or private, he gets the better of his antagonists, and gains at their expense, and is rich, and out of his gains he can benefit his friends, and harm his enemies; moreover, he can offer sacrifices, and dedicate gifts to the gods abundantly and magnificently, and can honour the gods or any man whom he wants to honour in a far better style than the just, and therefore he is likely to be dearer than they are to the gods. And thus, Socrates, gods and men are said to unite in making the life of the unjust better than the life of the just. […]
Transcript: Episode 6. Plato and the first ring of power
I like to ask my students, “If you had a ring, a magical ring, that had the power to make you invisible, how would you use it? What would you use it for?” It’s a good way to start a conversation about ethics. What would we do if no one could see us?
The answers can be surprising. Many students would use it to sneak into concerts, or get ahead in a line. Bolder ones would try to get into a plane, and see the world without paying. Honestly, I’m not sure they’ve thought it through, given the size of a regular plane seat. Are they hoping to stand in a corner during the entire flight?
An interesting amount would use it to play pranks on their friends and family, like move stuff around and pretend they are ghosts. A friend of mine said he’d spy on people to see what they do when they think they are not being seen – which is an ironic way of using it, and also kind of creepy.
Meanwhile, an unfortunate number of students confessed that they’d use it to shoplift. Which is not just unethical, but also, I feel, a little underwhelming. Is that what you’d use such a powerful artifact for? At least one student said right away he’d rob a bank. Which is surprising honest for a potential bank robber. One said he’d use it to find out what’s really going on in Area 51 and places like this, but he did not volunteer to share the knowledge.
All in all it does make you a little disappointed about humanity. Only a few have ever said they’d use their powers for good, like fighting crime (which is, for the record, what I would totally use it for), or, in one inventive and very specific case, to steal all the Egyptian artifacts from the British Museum and return it to the Egyptians. (I’m not sure she knew how much Egyptian stuff you can find in the British Museum).
So what’s going on here? Do we only do good deeds because we’re afraid of what people will say? Or worse, just to avoid going to jail? Or are there more important reasons, self-motivating reasons to do good, to be honest, to be just?
Welcome back to Philosophy Universe, a podcast about science fiction, philosophy and fantasy, and everything in-between! I am Alfredo, and this is episode 6, Plato and the First Ring of Power.
This is, by the way, the beginning of a mini series called “The Ethics Tutorial.” It would be, of course, impossible to try and cover every possible philosophical topic in this podcast, and also impossible to cover every single fantasy or sci-fy story with philosophical importance. So what I propose to do is to tackle different topics in sequences of five to ten episodes each; so we’ll talk about ethics, philosophy of knowledge, political philosophy and so on, and hopefully this will help to give you, my friends and listeners, a bit of an overview of some important areas of philosophy. (And maybe some less important areas, but that I like to talk about. My hope is that this will keep us focused, and develop a bit of a learning curve.
And so, the ring. Yes, the scenario is not very original. I think mostly everyone who’s interested in fantasy will immediately recognize this power of invisibility as something that Sauron’s ring could do. Tolkien knew enough to give it a certain moral ambivalence: the more that Bilbo and Frodo use its power, the quicker the evil effects of the ring take place. There is a moral danger in using the ring.
But those of you with some previous interest in philosophy, will hopefully recognize here a much older story! It was told by Plato, again, in The Republic, which is the same dialogue in which he gave us the “allegory of the cave” from episode two!!! There’s so much stuff in this dialogue! It’s all in Plato. It’s all in Plato.
So here’s the story as Plato tells it, in book 2 of the Republic: There’s this shepherd call Gyges [spell it].
According to the tradition, Gyges was a shepherd in the service of the kind of Lydia; there was a great storm, and an earthquake made an opening in the earth at the place where he was feeding his flock. Amazed at the sight, he descended into the opening, where, among other marvels, he beheld a hollow brazen horse, having doors, at which he stooping and looking in saw a dead body of stature, as appeared to him, more than human
(I like to imagine this as the scene in Alien, when they are investigating the derelict spaceship).
and having nothing on but a gold ring; this he took from the finger of the dead and reascended.
Now the shepherds met together, according to custom, that they might send their monthly report about the flocks to the king; into their assembly he came having the ring on his finger, and as he was sitting among them he chanced to turn the collet of the ring inside his hand, when instantly he became invisible to the rest of the company and they began to speak of him as if he were no longer present. He was astonished at this, and again touching the ring he turned the collet outwards and reappeared; he made several trials of the ring, and always with the same result—when he turned the collet inwards he became invisible, when outwards he reappeared.
(The rest of the story is told kind of quickly and matter of factly)
Whereupon he contrived to be chosen one of the messengers who were sent to the court; where as soon as he arrived he seduced the queen, and with her help conspired against the king and slew him, and took the kingdom.
This is the story, but the context is important. In the dialogue, Socrates is talking with some of his friends about what may be the basic question about ethics: why is it better to be good than evil, just rather than unjust? In the first book, Socrates just made a very good case for showing that there are good reasons to be just; and they are good enough arguments to defeat his first opponent, an angry guy named Thrasymachus, who makes some good points, but not good enough, and ends up a bit embarrassed about being proved wrong.
But before Socrates can get a break, two brothers, Glaucon and Adeimantus, tell Socrates that they are not satisfied. That Thrasymachus let him off too easily. Socrates says “fine then, I have nothing better to do than to talk about Justice for nine books more.” So his friend Glaucon tells the story of Gyges, and how once he finds he can get away with whatever, he goes straight for seduction and murder and becomes a tyrant. And Glaucon presses the issue. This is also from the Republic.
Suppose now that there were two such magic rings, and the just man put on one of them, and the unjust the other; no man can be imagined to be of such an iron nature that he would stand fast in justice. No man would keep his hands off what was not his own, when he could safely take what he liked out of the market, or go into houses and lie with any one at his pleasure, or kill or release from prison whom he would, and in all respects be like a God among men.
Then the actions of the just man would be as the actions of the unjust; they would both come at last to the same point. And this we may truly affirm to be a great proof that a man is just, not willingly or because he thinks that justice is any good to him individually, but of necessity, for wherever any one thinks that he can safely be unjust, there he is unjust. For all men believe in their hearts that injustice is far more profitable to the individual than justice.
This is what philosophers call a “mental experiment.” Mental experiments basically present you with a scenario, usually a bit fantastic or farfetched, as a way of making you think or rethink common preassumptions. One thing I don’t quite like about mental experiments, is that often they bring in the author’s own assumptions about what the listeners will do. Here Glaucon (who is, to be fair, acting as devil’s advocate; he does not believe this, but he wants to make the strongest possible case) seems to bring in, together with this interesting scenario, his own conclusion: no one will be able to resist this power and use it for great justice.
But what do you think? How would you use it?
What Glaucon gets right is that this scenario does make you think about regular things in new depth. Some people are more cynical, maybe. They will agree with Thrasymachus and with Glaucon that people only act honestly, decently, justly or in a selfless manner because they are afraid of the backlash if they didn’t – What are people going to think? What if I get caught? And so forth. But that at heart the smartest and happiest people are those who found out how to do all sorts of dishonest things without getting caught.
In short, what this view is proposing is that being a moral person (or “ethical”) means sacrificing our potential happiness. And being immoral or unethical means having the brains and the courage to go straight for it.
Some philosophers take this even further. For some of them, God is basically a fiction put up there just to make sure that we all behave when we are not being watched. If this is the case, getting rid of the idea of God would mean we don’t have to behave well anymore. For others, God does exist, but they find God to be an aggravating presence that is always watching and making sure we don’t get what we want without some degree of guilt.
But is that the case? Is morality essentially opposed to our happiness? Would we be better off without it?
Historically, philosophy has been for the most part on the side of Socrates here. Most philosophers that left some mark in history have argued, in different ways, that being moral is actually the path to a greater and deeper happiness than being immoral. That ethics and moral standards have, in other ways, an intrinsic value, that is, reasons why they are worth living by in and of themselves, and not just some kind of societal constraint or arbitrary imposition by people who are envious and want no one to be happy.
There have been many ways of approaching this subject, though. There have been also philosophers defending the opposite view, that it is ultimately dumb and counterproductive to the individual to let themselves be ruled by moral standards. Or, at least, that there are no such moral standards, so just do whatever you want, whether it makes you happy or not.
So we need to look at these in turn. We’ll start with one of the most popular moral theories, which you’ve probably heard of: it’s called “utilitarianism.” It’s one of those theories that people usually regard with suspicion, as something more evil than good, that looks at the big numbers and throws the individual under the bus. I hope, though, to show you that there’s more to this theory than meets the eye.
But before we get there, we are going to dig a bit deeper into the story of the ring. To be honest, the story at the end moves a little fast for me. I’m still not sure how being invisible helped Gyges seduce the queen, and how simply getting the king dead was enough to take the kingdom and not get hanged for treason. It seems a bit hurried in the end.
There is a recent novel that explores this story in a bit more detail, and it does it, interestingly, in the context of a contemporary business man, who finds this ring. The story digs deeper into the psychology of a man who doesn’t start being evil, but slowly falls prey to the temptation of the power that the ring represents. It was actually written by one of my colleagues, professor Randy Richards, and he will join us next time for our very first interview: a discussion on The Unseen Hand of Peter Gyges. I hope you’ll join us too, for this special episode of Philosophy Universe.
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