Plato's
Allegory of the Cave
And now, I (Plato) said, let me show in a
figure how far our nature is enlightened or unenlightened: --Behold! human beings living in a underground cave, which has a mouth
open towards the light and reaching all along the cave; here they have been
from their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained so that they cannot
move, and can only see before them, being prevented by the chains from turning
round their heads. Above and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance, and
between the fire and the prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if
you look, a low wall built along the way, like the screen which marionette
players have in front of them, over which they show the puppets.
- I see.
And do you see, I said, men passing along
the wall carrying all sorts of vessels, and statues and figures of animals made
of wood and stone and various materials, which appear over the wall? Some of
them are talking, others silent.
- You have shown me a strange image, and
they are strange prisoners.
Like ourselves, I replied; and they see
only their own shadows, or the shadows of one another, which the fire throws on
the opposite wall of the cave?
- True, he said; how could they see
anything but the shadows if they were never allowed to move their heads?
And of the objects which are being
carried in like manner they would only see the shadows?
- Yes, he said.
And if they were able to converse with
one another, would they not suppose that they were naming what was actually
before them?
- Very true.
And suppose further that the prison had
an echo which came from the other side, would they not be sure to fancy when
one of the passers-by spoke that the voice which they heard came from the
passing shadow?
- No question, he replied.
To
them, I said, the truth would be literally nothing but the shadows of the
images.
- That is certain.
And now look again, and see what will
naturally follow if the prisoners are released and disabused of their error. At
first, when any of them is liberated and compelled suddenly to stand up and
turn his neck round and walk and look towards the light, he will suffer sharp
pains; the glare will distress him, and he will be unable to see the realities
of which in his former state he had seen the shadows; and then conceive some
one saying to him, that what he saw before was an illusion, but that now, when
he is approaching nearer to being and his eye is turned towards more real existence,
he has a clearer vision—what will be his reply? And you may further imagine
that his instructor is pointing to the objects as they pass and requiring him
to name them, will he not be perplexed? Will he not fancy that the shadows
which he formerly saw are truer than the objects which are now shown to him?
- Far truer.
And if he is compelled to look straight
at the light, will he not have a pain in his eyes which will make him turn away
to take and take in the objects of vision which he can see, and which he will
conceive to be in reality clearer than the things which are now being shown to
him?
- That is true.
And suppose once more, that he is
reluctantly dragged up a steep and rugged ascent, and held fast until he's
forced into the presence of the sun, is he not likely to be pained and
irritated? When he approaches the light his eyes will be dazzled, and he will
not be able to see anything at all of what are now called realities.
- Not all in a moment, he said.
He will require to grow
accustomed to the sight of the upper world. And first he will see the shadows
best, next the reflections of men and other objects in the water, and then the
objects themselves; then he will gaze upon the light of the moon and the stars
and the spangled heaven; and he will see the sky and the stars by night better than
the sun or the light of the sun by day?
- Certainly.
Last of he will be able to see the sun, and
not mere reflections in the water, and he will contemplate the sun as it is.
- Certainly.
And when he remembered his old
habitation, and the wisdom of the cave and his fellow-prisoners, do you not
suppose that he would be happy for himself on the change, and pity them?
- Certainly, he would.
And if they were in the habit of
conferring honors among themselves on those who were quickest to observe the
passing shadows and to remark which of them went before, and which followed
after, and which were together; and who were therefore best able to draw
conclusions as to the future, do you think that he would care for such honors
and glories, or envy the possessors of them? Would he not say with Homer, “Better
to be the poor servant of a poor master, and to endure anything, rather than
think as they do and live after their manner”?
- Yes, I think that he would rather
suffer anything than entertain these false notions and live in this miserable
manner.
Imagine once more, such a one coming
suddenly out of the sun to be replaced in his old situation; would he not be
certain to have his eyes full of darkness?
- To be sure, he said.
And if there were a contest, and he had
to compete in measuring the shadows with the prisoners who had never moved out
of the cave, while his sight was still weak, and before his eyes had become
steady (and the time which would be needed to acquire this new habit of sight
might be very considerable) would he not be ridiculous? Men would say of him
that up he went and down he came without his eyes; and that it was better not
even to think of ascending; and if any one tried to set free another and lead
him up to the light, let them only catch the offender, and they would put him
to death.
- No
question, he said.
--Trans. by
Benjamin Jowett
v
Think about what the metaphor may be for
each of the LEVELS OF REALITY—
First, the shadows on the wall of the cave…
Then, the actual objects casting the shadows…
Then, the fire in the cave that illuminates the cave and casts the shadows…
Then, outside the cave, reflections in the water, shadows, etc…
Then, actual objects in the world outside the cave…
Finally, the sun itself outside the cave, illuminating objects in the world.