I finished The Republic recently, as it’s one of this year’s philosophy set texts. We have an exam in May, so I’ll be getting to know it a lot better over the next 4 weeks.

I often find it a bit tricky reading classical texts that have as their subject matters, how to live your life, or how to get better at this, that, or the other. My problem is that a part of me occasionally conflates ‘learning about things’ with ‘learning about what ancient cultures thought about things’. I sometimes have to stop myself from being persuaded by some long-dead, bearded Greek that, for example, it doesn’t matter whether or not people are happy – all that matters is that the community flourishes. I think it’s a common theme for people who are drawn to Classics, but whose critical reading skills are still a bit of a work in progress. I love the Greeks. They’re incredibly wise, dedicated to athletic achievement and scientific progress, and they have brilliant stories. However, (as Mary Beard said recently) if one could somehow become a time-travelling tourist for a day, the first thing you’d want to make sure of was your return ticket.

And so, as I read about Thrasymachus (or T-Man, as this year’s excellent seminar tutor, Hercules referred to him) and his challenge to the ever-annoying Socrates in Book One, I started to nod. He’s right, I thought. Justice (the search for a definition of which is one of the main themes of The Republic) is simply whatever the politicians in charge tell us it is. They decide what is legal and illegal, and it makes complete sense that they would set these laws up in such a way that would help to secure their hold on power, or to be of benefit to them in some other, possibly pecuniary, fashion. What’s more, they know they are being unjust, and the unjust man *always* comes out on top of the just man, and therefore the unjust life is the only sensible path to choose. What on Earth was Plato going to write about for the next nine books? Unfortunately for my friends and family, I was sold.

A few tricky dialectical somersaults (and seven books – I never promised in-depth analysis on my first post) later, and I’m a complete convert. I’m that loyal centre midfielder who will never leave your club holding up the opposing team’s jersey on transfer deadline day. What a loser you are, T-Man. Socrates and Plato have this nailed. It’s far more complicated than your tiny little brain could ever hope to comprehend (T-Man, that is – not you, dear reader), but basically justice is present in the man or the city whose soul (not eternal – stand down) or polis is at peace; whose three primary parts of appetite, courage, and reason are completely in balance. The unjust man is both tyrant and tyrannised. The unjust city has no shared goals. His life is a living hell as his appetites tear him apart internally, and his fears drive him to paranoia and ever deeper into despair. The city rots.

As one of the four virtues (along with wisdom, courage, and moderation), justice is the net that is present when everything else is present and balanced – in both man and city. It is preferable to injustice because the opposite does not represent progress for man or city. It represents decline and squalor. Something other than civilisation. Something barbarian. It makes absolute sense and I won’t hear another word on the subject. I’m considering going for a run. I may even call my mother.

Hang on. What was that about gold, silver, and bronze people…