Plato,The Allegory of the Cave
From The Republic, Book VII
(source for the text: http://classics.mit.edu/Plato/republic.8.vii.html; comments AB)
Socrates – Glaucon
And now, I said, let me show in a figure how far our nature is enlightened or unenlightened: —
Behold! Human beings living in a underground den, which has a mouth open towards the light
and reaching all along the den; 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?
[Glaucon was Plato’s older
brother]
In order to explain what
knowledge and learning are,
Socrates invites his interlocutor to
imagine human beings living in a
cave, chained, and facing a wall.
The light of a fire projects the
shadows of objects onto that wall.
Socrates says that the prisoners
are like us!
They see only shadows, but they
think they see real people and
objects.
http://classics.mit.edu/Plato/republic.8.vii.html
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 someone 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?
True, he now
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 himself, 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
If a prisoner is released, at first,
he would suffer, unable to see
reality; and he would be very
perplexed.
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 of him in the water, but he will
see him in his own proper place, and not in another; and he will contemplate him as he is.
Certainly.
He will then proceed to argue that this is he who gives the season and the years, and is the
guardian of all that is in the visible world, and in a certain way the cause of all things which he
and his fellows have been accustomed to behold?
Clearly, he said, he would first see the sun and then reason about him.
And when he remembered his old habitation, and the wisdom of the den and his fellow-
prisoners, do you not suppose that he would felicitate 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, he said, I think that he would rather suffer anything than entertain these false notions and
live in this miserable manner.
Imagine once more, I said, such an 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 den, 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
In the end, this person would be
able to see the real things and the
sun itself.
This person would not want to go
back to the previous situation.
In the cave, this person would
seem ridiculous. People there
would think that trying to go out
of the cave is wrong.
one tried to loose 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.
This entire allegory, I said, you may now append, dear Glaucon, to the previous argument; the
prison-house is the world of sight, the light of the fire is the sun, and you will not misapprehend
me if you interpret the journey upwards to be the ascent of the soul into the intellectual world
according to my poor belief, which, at your desire, I have expressed whether rightly or wrongly
God knows. But, whether true or false, my opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea of
good appears last of all, and is seen only with an effort; and, when seen, is also inferred to be
the universal author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light and of the lord of light in
this visible world, and the immediate source of reason and truth in the intellectual; and that this
is the power upon which he who would act rationally, either in public or private life must have
his eye fixed.
Here Socrates explains the
meaning of the allegory.