Why does Plato Shackle the Neck in the Allegory of the Cave?

Anyone who is familiar with Plato has no doubt noticed the emphasis that he places on focusing our attention on the world of being and ignoring the world of becoming.  Another way of saying this is that the present material world is less important than the everlasting eternal world of truth and Forms.

In this post, I want to point out similar imagery which is used in three different dialogues, all concerned with the ultimate apprehension of reality.  In these dialogues, Plato uses the imagery of the head, when it is free and unencumbered, as a symbol for the ability to properly see the intelligible realm, the heavenly realm, the realm of reality.

Let us first look at the Phaedrus.  As Socrates has narrated about the life of the gods, he next wishes to tell us about the life of mortals.  He does so, using the framing metaphor of the charioteer and horses as a stand-in for the soul.

And this is the life of the gods.  But of the other souls, one follows god best and is like him and raises the head of the charioteer into the realm outside, being carried together in the revolution, and being thrown into tumult by the horses and seldom see the things that really are.  But the other soul raises it head, then lowers it, and because the horses are being forceful, it sees some things and other things it does not.  All the other souls are striving to follow the region above, but are unable… (Phaedrus 248a1-e1). 1

Thus, the raising of the head is symbolic of the ability to see truths and real being that transcends the mundane and insubstantial.

In the Phaedo we see a similar line of thought.  A description has just been given of the earth, how it is much larger than we imagine it to be.  Here the comparison is to a fish, if it could lift its head above the water and see what is happening upon the earth.

By weakness and stupidity we are not able to pass through to the farthest aether.  Since, if someone were to go to the heights of the earth or having become winged, took flight, he would lift his head and look around, just as here the fish in the sea can lift their heads to see the things on earth, so someone could see the things there [in the realm above] (Phaedo 109e1-5). 2

It is helpful to keep in mind the kind of philosophical power and freedom which is represented by the head.  With the Phaedo and Phaedrus in the background, a certain famous passage in the Republic, the allegory of the cave, becomes enriched.  Here also the dignity of the head, being the repository of sight, the noblest of the senses, is emphasized, but by negation.  It is not the freedom of the head here, but its imprisonment that merits mentioning.

Being in this [cave] since childhood in shackles around their legs and necks, so that they remain in place only to see straight before them, but they are unable to turn their heads about in a circle because of the bond (Republic 514a5-b2). 3

The prisoner in the cave, ignorant of what is happening outside the cave, has his neck restrained in such a way that he cannot even move it.  It seems plausible to believe the main purpose of the shackles around his neck are not meant to keep him in one place, after all the leg shackles, already described, will do that.  Rather, the purpose of a bond around his neck is meant to keep him undiscerning.  After all, this is the answer when it is asked whether such a prisoner could see through the shadows to the real world:

For how could they, if they were forced to have their necks unmoving through life? (Republic 515a9-b1). 4

 


 

1 (a)   Καὶ οὗτος μὲν θεῶν βίος· αἱ δὲ ἄλλαι ψυχαί, ἡ μὲν
ἄριστα θεῷ ἑπομένη καὶ εἰκασμένη ὑπερῆρεν εἰς τὸν ἔξω
τόπον τὴν τοῦ ἡνιόχου κεφαλήν, καὶ συμπεριηνέχθη τὴν
περιφοράν, θορυβουμένη ὑπὸ τῶν ἵππων καὶ μόγις καθορῶσα
τὰ ὄντα· ἡ δὲ τοτὲ μὲν ἦρεν, τοτὲ δ’ ἔδυ, βιαζομένων δὲ τῶν   (5)
ἵππων τὰ μὲν εἶδεν, τὰ δ’ οὔ. αἱ δὲ δὴ ἄλλαι γλιχόμεναι
μὲν ἅπασαι τοῦ ἄνω ἕπονται, ἀδυνατοῦσαι δέ…

2  (e) τόν, ὑπ’ ἀσθενείας καὶ βραδυτῆτος οὐχ οἵους τε εἶναι ἡμᾶς
διεξελθεῖν ἐπ’ ἔσχατον τὸν ἀέρα· ἐπεί, εἴ τις αὐτοῦ ἐπ’ ἄκρα
ἔλθοι ἢ πτηνὸς γενόμενος ἀνάπτοιτο, κατιδεῖν <ἂν> ἀνακύ-
ψαντα, ὥσπερ ἐνθάδε οἱ ἐκ τῆς θαλάττης ἰχθύες ἀνακύ-
πτοντες ὁρῶσι τὰ ἐνθάδε, οὕτως ἄν τινα καὶ τὰ ἐκεῖ κατιδεῖν…   (5)

3 ἐν ταύτῃ ἐκ παίδων ὄντας ἐν δεσμοῖς καὶ τὰ   (5)
σκέλη καὶ τοὺς αὐχένας, ὥστε μένειν τε αὐτοὺς εἴς τε τὸ
(b) πρόσθεν μόνον ὁρᾶν, κύκλῳ δὲ τὰς κεφαλὰς ὑπὸ τοῦ δεσμοῦ
ἀδυνάτους περιάγειν…

4 Πῶς γάρ, ἔφη, εἰ ἀκινήτους γε τὰς κεφαλὰς ἔχειν ἠναγκα-
(b) σμένοι εἶεν διὰ βίου;

Socrates’ Swan Song

In the maddening swirl of language, we seldom reflect on the meaning of individual words or phrases.  It is not so surprising then, when we pass by even more obscure idioms and metaphors, although this paradoxically does not prevent us from using them again in turn!

One of these phrases is “swan song”, often meaning the last effort or final production coming from someone in his respective field before retirement, or sometimes, death.  This idea has a long pedigree in Western thought.  It first appears in literature in Aeschylus (Agamemnon, 1444), and has not performed its own swan song in our communal imagination since.  The idea behind the myth was that the swan is silent its entire life save the prescience it is granted of its oncoming death, then the swan pours out the first and final charming melodies from its soul.

Socrates himself alludes to this myth, albeit not without commenting on what he sees as its probable origin:

But I seem to you more common than the swans regarding prophecy, which when they sense that it necessary that they die, they sing in the interval before death, indeed, at that time, especially and most beautifully do they sing, rejoicing that they are about to go to the divine, the very thing they serve.  And men, because of their own fear of death, they both slander the swans and they say that the swans lament their death singing because of pain, and they do not consider that no bird sings when in hunger or cold or during any other pain it undergoes, nor does the nightingale, the swallow, nor the hoopoe, which they say laments singing because of its pain.  But these do not appear to me to sing because they are pained, nor do the swans, but I think, since they are prophetic, being from Apollo, and foreknowing the good things in Hades they sing and rejoice during that day more than in the time before.  I myself think I am a co-laborer of the swans and a priest of the same god, and I have the gift of prophecy from my master not worse than theirs, nor do I think I am freed from a life more melancholy than theirs.

ὡς ἔοικε, τῶν κύκνων δοκῶ φαυλότερος ὑμῖν εἶναι τὴν μαντικήν, οἳ ἐπειδὰν αἴσθωνται ὅτι δεῖ αὐτοὺς ἀποθανεῖν, ᾁδοντες καὶ ἐν τῷ πρόσθεν χρόνῳ, τότε δὴ πλεῖστα καὶ κάλλιστα ᾁδουσι, γεγηθότες ὅτι μέλλουσι παρὰ τὸν θεὸν ἀπιέναι οὗπέρ εἰσι θεράποντες. οἱ δ᾽ ἄνθρωποι διὰ τὸ αὑτῶν δέος τοῦ θανάτου καὶ τῶν κύκνων καταψεύδονται, καί φασιν αὐτοὺς θρηνοῦντας τὸν θάνατον ὑπὸ λύπης ἐξᾴδειν, καὶ οὐ λογίζονται ὅτι οὐδὲν ὄρνεον ᾁδει ὅταν πεινῇ ἢ ῥιγῷ ἤ τινα ἄλλην λύπην λυπῆται, οὐδὲ αὐτὴ ἥ τε ἀηδὼν καὶ χελιδὼν καὶ ὁ ἔποψ, ἃ δή φασι διὰ λύπην θρηνοῦντα ᾁδειν. ἀλλ᾽ οὔτε ταῦτά μοι φαίνεται λυπούμενα ᾁδειν οὔτε οἱ κύκνοι, ἀλλ᾽ ἅτε οἶμαι τοῦ Ἀπόλλωνος ὄντες, μαντικοί τέ εἰσι καὶ προειδότες τὰ ἐν Ἅιδου ἀγαθὰ ᾁδουσι καὶ τέρπονται ἐκείνην τὴν ἡμέραν διαφερόντως ἢ ἐν τῷ ἔμπροσθεν χρόνῳ. ἐγὼ δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς ἡγοῦμαι ὁμόδουλός τε εἶναι τῶν κύκνων καὶ ἱερὸς τοῦ αὐτοῦ θεοῦ, καὶ οὐ χεῖρον ἐκείνων τὴν μαντικὴν ἔχειν παρὰ τοῦ δεσπότου, οὐδὲ δυσθυμότερον αὐτῶν τοῦ βίου ἀπαλλάττεσθαι. ἀλλὰ τούτου γ᾽ ἕνεκα λέγειν τε χρὴ καὶ ἐρωτᾶν ὅτι ἂν βούλησθε, ἕως ἂν Ἀθηναίων ἐῶσιν ἄνδρες ἕνδεκα. Phaedo 84e-85b