The Apology

This chapter is Benjamin Jowett's scholarly introduction to the Apology — written in the 19th century to orient the reader before Socrates speaks a single word. It is not Plato. It is a Victorian classical scholar wrestling honestly with one of the hardest questions in ancient literature: how much of this text is actually true? Jowett opens by acknowledging that no one can determine how closely Plato's Apology reflects what Socrates genuinely said at his trial in 399 BC. Xenophon's account in the Memorabilia agrees in general character — Socrates could have been acquitted had he made even moderate concessions, but he had no wish to — yet the two accounts diverge in significant ways. Jowett's conclusion is careful and important: the Apology is "true to the character of Socrates, but we cannot show that any single sentence in it was actually spoken by him." Plato was present at the trial, but what he wrote is an artistic composition — an ideal portrait, not a transcript. It breathes the spirit of Socrates, Jowett argues, but has been cast anew in the mould of Plato. Having established this, Jowett maps the Apology's three-part structure. The first part is the defense proper: Socrates distinguishes himself from the Sophists and natural philosophers, explains the Delphic oracle story — how Chaerephon asked if any man was wiser, and the oracle answered no — and describes how his mission of questioning the supposedly wise led to the bitter enmities that brought him to court. The second part comes after the guilty verdict: Socrates must propose a counter-penalty, and characteristically refuses to treat it seriously. The third part is his final words — prophetic, unsparing, and addressed separately to those who condemned him and those who did not. Jowett then turns to critical analysis, examining the moments in Socrates' defense that are arguably sophistical — particularly his cross-examination of Meletus. He defends Socrates on most counts: the apparent haughtiness flows naturally from the elevation of his position, the irony is genuine rather than strategic, and the so-called sophistries are often true in substance if odd in form. What Jowett will not claim is that Socrates handled every charge with equal seriousness — particularly the question of his corrupted disciples, Alcibiades and Critias, which receives what Jowett calls an answer that is "not satisfactory." The introduction closes by separating what can be said of the historical Socrates from what can only be attributed to Plato's imagination — a distinction Jowett insists on even as he acknowledges it can never be fully resolved.