Is a philosophical life pleasant?

I’ve been bothered by an argument in Plato Republic IX in favour of the philosophical life being the most pleasant (585aff.). In short, the problem seems to be that much of the argument plausible only on the understanding that pleasure is a kind of replenishing of a desire or lack, that it is a process and therefore episodic. To be sure, we might understand ignorance as a state of cognitive lack much as hunger is a state of bodily lack, but if pleasure is associated with the process of replenishing that lack, there seems no other conclusion possible than that the pleasures of replenishing the soul – exquisite and intense though they might be since they are trained on pure and true objects – will be experienced only while the philosopher is acquiring knowledge. What pleasures of this kind will be left for the philosopher once he has the understanding he requires? If, in other words, pleasure ceases when the process of replenishing ends, then ‘the more successful a philosopher is, the sooner his life will cease to be pleasant’ [1].

Here is how I think Socrates might reply. First, we should remember the assertion at 586e4–587a2 that only in the light of the rule of reason in the soul is a person able to experience appetitive and spirited pleasures of the purest and truest variety available. Of course, these pleasures are never going to be pure and true in the sense that the intellectual pleasures are, but nevertheless this passage serves as an important reminder that the philosopher will also continue to enjoy the pleasures of eating and so on and, more to the point, we are assured that because of the harmonious arrangement of his soul and the fact that therefore his desires are all marshalled and arranged by reason sub specie boni, he will be able to do so to the greatest extent possible for any person. In contrast, when one of the other parts of the soul is dominant, it forces its fellow soul-parts to pursue pleasures which are alien to them (587a4–6).

Second, it is also worth noting that elsewhere in the Republic Socrates demonstrates a more subtle and nuanced understanding of the affective experience of intellectual discovery and of the acquisition and use of philosophical knowledge. Concerns about the hedonic life of the philosopher ought therefore to take into account other passages in the work. For example, the description of the ascent from the cave emphasises not the pleasures of discovery and the satisfaction of intellectual lack but, quite the opposite, the dizzying and startling effect produced by the taxing and disorienting acquisition of a new perspective on reality and value. Indeed, Socrates repeatedly notes the pain and discomfort felt by the man on his way up out of the cave as the new bright light and the journey take their toll (ἀλγοῖ 518c8; ἀλγεῖν 515e1; ὀδυνᾶσθαι 515e7). Perhaps the pain is caused by the sudden realisation of prior ignorance or misapprehension, the sudden recognition of a previously unnoticed lack (much as in many of the ‘early’ dialogues Socrates’ interlocutors voice annoyance and anger at being reduced to aporia); certainly, the process of intellectual progress is not unremittingly pleasant [2].

On other occasions, Socrates is much more upbeat about the pleasures of intellectual discovery. See, for example, his description of the ‘philosophical natures’ at 485aff., especially 485d10–e1. These people, fitted with all the necessary traits of character to allow them to be potential philosopher rulers desire ‘the pleasure of the soul itself by itself’ (τὴν τῆς ψυχῆς ἡδονὴν αὐτῆς καθ’ αὑτὴν), a description very reminiscent of book IX’s characterisation of the pure and true pleasures at 585bff. Certainly, the Republic contains a complex and varied story of the affective aspects of intellectual advancement, beyond the arguments concerning pleasure in book IX. And we might also imagine that even the accomplished philosopher’s intellectual life would display a similarly complex affective aspect. The objection in hand concerns his hedonic state in particular and, true enough, it is plausible to imagine that he will not experience any more the exquisite pleasures of new intellectual discoveries once he has come to know and understand the Forms in the light of the Good itself. But, even now, he might be able to recall or turn his attention to one or another piece of knowledge or otherwise review in his mind’s eye the arrangement of the Forms as a geometer might revisit a deductive proof. He might also deploy his understanding in novel ways as circumstances demand (see e.g. 540a–b).

Indeed, there are signs that Socrates is happy to imagine both the process of learning and the state of possessing knowledge to be pleasant, however we might characterise the precise nature of that latter possibility. Just before our stretch of text, in the discussion of the choice between the three different lives, Socrates characterises the philosopher’s perspective as follows:

Τὸν δὲ φιλόσοφον, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ, τί οἰώμεθα τὰς ἄλλας ἡδονὰς νομίζειν πρὸς τὴν τοῦ εἰδέναι τἀληθὲς ὅπῃ ἔχει καὶ ἐν τοιούτῳ τινὶ ἀεὶ εἶναι μανθάνοντα;
And how are we to think that the philosopher considers the other pleasures in comparison with that of knowing where the truth is and always being in some such state when learning? (581d9–e1)

True, the philosopher being considered here is still interested in the pleasures of learning and the love of learning is what Socrates uses to characterise such a person (581b10–11). But there is also, evidently, a pleasure which is to be associated with the possession of some kind of knowledge. What that knowledge is, precisely, in this case is not so clear. In all likelihood, it is the knowledge of where truth is in the sense of knowing how to go about acquiring truths or, so to speak, where to go looking for them rather than knowledge of the kind that distinguishes fully-fledged philosopher rulers from everyone else. Nevertheless, although it is not easy to see how one might assimilate the possession of knowledge or the revisiting and refreshing of already acquired truths to the model of lack and replenishment brought to the fore in these arguments of book IX, there is good reason in principle to imagine that the life of the fully-fledged philosopher will be full of intellectual as well as appetitive and spirited pleasures.

[1] Gosling and Taylor, The Greeks on Pleasure (Oxford, 1982), 122–3.

[2] Note also the reference to the philosopher’s ‘birth pangs’ as he struggles to grasp each thing’s nature (490a–b). Once he has achieved the goal of his intellectual desire he then would understand and truly live and be nourished and, in this way, be relieved of his pain’ (γνοίη τε καὶ ἀληθῶς ζῴη καὶ τρέφοιτο καὶ οὕτω λήγοι ὠδῖνος 490b6–7). Compare Diotima’s assertion that those who have ascended to grasp Beauty itself will be able to engage in satisfying acts of creation: Symp. 211e–12a