The Platonic Case for Authoritarianism: Politics, the Good, and Philosopher Kings
Recently popular discussions on the right have revolved around a reappraisal of authoritarianism. Interestingly, this trajectory takes us back to the thought of Plato, the first political philsopher.
In a recent podcast with my colleague Dr. Richard Bulzacchelli, I explored the meaning and possible legitimacy of authoritarianism. Of course, in ordinary parlance, the term authoritarianism is loaded with negative connotations. However, within the bounds political philosophy, the exploration of radical theories is expected; such explorations sometimes bring to light genuine insights and unanticipated perspectives, which enrich philosophical discourse even if the theory as a whole is not accepted. Such is the case with arguments for authoritarianism. As always, it will be useful to begin with a few solid distinctions and definitions.
Authority or Freedom
Authoritarianism is most easily understood by comparing it with classical liberalism. Classical liberalism is the background tradition of the Anglo-American political tradition, and it is especially influential in the United States. Although this is a complex and rich tradition, two points of emphasis stand out as preeminent. First and foremost, classical liberalism prioritizes individual liberty, which is realized through a legal code that protects a set of individual rights (these rights are usually cast as protections from). For this reason, many commentators characterize the individual liberty of classical liberalism as “freedom from” coercion and government control, or negative freedom. The second major priority of classical liberalism is very limited government. The primary, if not exclusive goal of government, is the protection of individual rights. In this perspective, individual liberty grounds and limits the function of government.
Authoritarianism is the exact opposite of classical liberalism. Whereas the latter emphasizes individual rights and limited government, authoritarianism prioritizes the authority and scope of the government. Except in cases of mere tyranny, most versions of authoritarianism justify an expanded scope for government by arguing that strong governance is necessary for some prior and higher good. This is a very important point.
Very limited government makes sense if its only task is to protect “freedom from.” However, if government (or the state as a whole) is responsible for advancing a substantive vision of the good, then a more expansive role for government may be appropriate. Examples of this scenario include: (a) Soviet party rule for the sake of class revolution; (b) autocracy for the sake of “saving” and glorifying the nation; (c) strong versions of medieval monarchy for the sake of unifying the state and defending the true faith; (d) military rule for the sake of saving the nation from communist revolution,(e ) the rule of the Spartan aristocracy for the sake of military virtue, etc. Some of these examples are repellent, and by listing them, I am by no means offering an endorsement. Nevertheless, together they illustrate the point. When political order is inspired by a substantive, positive account of the good, it is potentially authoritarian; in such cases the envisioned good serves as the justification for strong and expansive government.
In sum, an authoritarian regime many or even most matters are determined by the command and control of the government for the sake of advancing a substantive vision of the Good. In such a regime, a broad scope of decisions would be subsumed under government control. For example, authoritarian regimes could enforce curfew, dress codes, obscenity codes, industrial production outputs, job assignments, the distribution of goods and services, immigration rates, public morality, etc. In some instances, these measures might intrude upon matters that we have come to regard as individual rights. Generally, for those living in liberal regimes, location and time usage are thought to belong to individual liberty. However, in an authoritarian regime it would be perfectly licit to require all (or most) businesses to close at a designated time for the sake of public safety and morality. Of course, an authoritarian regime need not be excessively managerial. For example, the guardians in Plato’s Republic do not seem to intervene very much with business and production, except to curb license and greed. Nevertheless, in principle, authoritarian regimes have the authority to exercise power within a wide scope of activities and institutions.
A Platonic Argument for Authoritarianism
The history of political philosophy is replete with arguments for authoritarianism. Currently, I am interested in an argument that may be developed from Plato’s dialogue on morality, namely, Gorgias. In this work, one of the early interlocutors argues that the best life is the life of the tyrant. Against this opinion, Socrates argues that tyrants are neither powerful nor free because they do not get what they really want, namely, the good — that which is truly desirable. Why is this so? Tyrants are dominated by their passions; therefore, they lack wisdom. Indeed, although they may be clever and daring, they are essentially fools. This argument turns on three very important theses: (1) men are naturally ordered to pursue what is perceived to be desirable; (2) wisdom (or something similar) is required to know what is really desirable; (3) finally it is assumed (rightly) that some actions are really desirable and others are not. I take all of this to be very sound regarding the basic elements of classical ethics. However, this argument also works as an argument against democracy.
Experience proves that passions dominate most men. They do not get what they really want even when they choose and even when they vote because the passions mislead them about what is really desirable. This is especially true in capitalist societies where market competitors use manipulative advertising and promote personal satisfaction. Moreover, power in a democracy goes to the candidates who can appeal most effectively to the lowest common denominator, namely, the passions. In this perspective, democracy does not secure human freedom but the inverse because democracies ultimately ruled by passions rather than wisdom. If this is so, if most men are not capable of effective self-governance, then in Plato’s view it is best that they be governed by another, that is, it is even best for the one so governed. This may sound pretentious, but this should not put us off of the larger question. We may be tempted to think of the corrupt governments of our experience. Similarly we may be tempted to ask “how do we decide who gets so much power?” However, we should avoid these distractions and focus on the main thrust of this Platonic style argument.
Authentic Human Freedom
Should power be used to command and even coerce citizens to do good and avoid evil? Does this really corrupt freedom? Is doing whatever you happen to desire real human freedom? I believe these are the important questions; indeed, engaging these questions is the main benefit of considering Platonic political theory. To put it another way, is there such a thing as a good and just authoritarianism? Is it ever the right thing to force a man to do the right thing? Whether one likes it or not, it must be conceded that this is what every regime does to some degree or the other. Modern countries force citizens to pay taxes, treat people equally (for the most part), avoid theft, etc. The real question is where is the limit and why? For the classical liberal, the limit is the protection of individual rights. For the Platonic style authoritarian, the limit is defined by the Good (and pragmatic concerns).
I suspect that our answers to questions about the limits of government will be determined in large part by our view of freedom. If one believes that freedom consists solely in individual choice — doing whatever you want — then it is likely that liberalism (or something similar) will be preferred. By contrast, if one accepts the classical vision of freedom as self-governance — the rational pursuit of what is really good — then the authoritarian approach to government must remain a possibility. And if so, the next question in this trajectory of thought is determine the good to be sought. Here we come again to a foundational question: just what is it that we hope to get out of political life? What is its good?
As is well known, in the Republic, Plato defends the view that the state should strive for a just society and just souls, which comes down to the rule of wisdom rooted in eternal truths; this is the foundation for the infamous Platonic claim on behalf of philosopher kings. Those who are truly wise know the Good in itself, which is unchanging and universal. Plato describes this knowledge as a vision that fills the soul with knowledge; thus illumined the philosopher king turns to illumine the city with wisdom and just rule. It is difficult to know what to make of such an account, so perhaps it is best to end with a powerful image given to us in Republic:
Imagine, then, that something like the following happens on a ship or on many ships. The ship-owner is bigger and stronger than everyone else on board, but he’s hard of hearing, a bit short-sighted and his knowledge of seafaring is equally deficient. The sailors are quarreling with one another about steering the ship, each of them thinking that he should be the captain, even though he’s never learned the art of navigations, cannot point to anyone who taught it to him, or to a time when he learned it. Indeed, they claim that it isn’t reachable and already to cut to pieces anyone show says that it is. They are always crowding around the ship-owner, begging him and doing ever everything possible to get him to turned the rudder over them. And sometimes, if they don’t succeed in persuading him, they execute the ones who do succeed or throw them overboard, and then having stupefied their noble ship owner with drugs, wine, or in some other way, they rule the ship, using up what’s in it and sail in the way that people like that are pored to do. Moreover, they call the person who is clever at persuading or forcing the ship-owner to let them rule a “navigator,” a “captain,” and “one who knows ships,” and dismiss anyone else as useless. They don’t understand that a true captain must pay attention to the seasons of the year … and all that pertains to his craft … And they don’t believe there is any craft that would enable him to determine how he should steer the ship, whether the other want him to or not or any possibility of mastering this alleged craft of … navigation. … the true captain will be called a real stargazer, a babbler, and a good for nothing.[1]
This passage occurs in Book VI of the Republic; it is well worth reading again and again and again. Indeed Plato is always worth reading, remembering, and considering. Who are the true captains, the sailors, and false captains in this image? Go and read.
[1] Plato, Republic, originally circa 389 BC, trans. G. M. A. Grube (Hackett Publishing, Indianapolis: 1992), 488b-e.