Apology

​And by the dog, men of Athens—for I must tell you the truth—I certainly experienced something of this kind: those who were most in repute seemed to me, in my search according to the god, to be almost most wanting in wisdom, while others who seemed more ordinary seemed to be men more capable with respect to being wise. I must indeed display to you my wandering, as of one undergoing certain labors, so that the oracle might become unrefuted for me after all. For after the politicians, I went to the poets, both those of tragedies and those of dithyrambs and the others, so that there I might catch myself in the act of being more ignorant than they. Taking up, then, those of their poems which seemed to me to have been most carefully wrought by them, I would ask them what they meant, so that at the same time I might also learn something from them. Now I am ashamed to tell you the truth, gentlemen; but nevertheless it must be told. For to speak briefly, almost all those present would have spoken better about the things which the poets themselves had made. So I soon realized this too about the poets, that they do not make what they make by wisdom, but by some nature and because they are inspired, like prophets and oracle-mongers; for these also say many fine things, but know nothing of what they say. The poets also appeared to me to have experienced some such state; and at the same time I perceived that, because of their poetry, they thought they were the wisest of men in other things too, in which they were not. So I went away from them too, thinking that I was superior to them in the very same thing in which I was superior to the politicians. Finally, then, I went to the artisans; for I was conscious in myself of knowing nothing, so to speak, but I knew indeed that I would find them knowing many fine things. And in this I was not deceived; they knew things which I did not know, and in this way they were wiser than I. But, men of Athens, the good artisans seemed to me to have the very same fault as the poets—because he performed his art well, each one claimed to be most wise in the other greatest things too—and this error of theirs seemed to hide that wisdom of theirs; so that I asked myself on behalf of the oracle whether I would prefer to be just as I am, being neither wise with their wisdom nor ignorant with their ignorance, or to have both which they have. I answered then to myself and to the oracle that it was better for me to be just as I am.

​From this inquiry indeed, men of Athens, many hatreds have arisen against me, and such as are most difficult and heavy, so that many slanders have arisen from them, and this name of being ‘wise’ has been given to me; for those present on each occasion think that I myself am wise in those things in which I refute someone else. But in fact, gentlemen, the god is likely to be truly wise, and in this oracle to mean this, that human wisdom is of little value or none. And he seems to be speaking of this Socrates, and to have used my name, making me an example, just as if he should say: ‘He among you, O men, is wisest, who like Socrates has recognized that he is in truth of no value with respect to wisdom.’ These things indeed I still even now go about seeking and searching into according to the god, both among citizens and strangers, if I think anyone is wise; and when he does not seem so to me, I assist the god and show that he is not wise. And because of this occupation, I have had no leisure to do any of the affairs of the city worth mentioning, nor of my own, but I am in extreme poverty because of my service to the god. Moreover, the young men who follow me of their own accord—those who have the most leisure, the sons of the wealthiest—enjoy hearing men examined, and they themselves often imitate me, and then attempt to examine others; and then, I think, they find a great abundance of men who think they know something, but know little or nothing. As a result, those examined by them are angry with me, not with themselves, and say that there is a certain Socrates, a most abominable man, who corrupts the youth. And whenever someone asks them, ‘by doing what and teaching what?’ they have nothing to say but are ignorant, but so that they may not seem to be at a loss, they say these things that are ready at hand against all who philosophize: ‘the things in the air and the things beneath the earth,’ and ‘not to believe in gods,’ and ‘to make the weaker argument the stronger.’ For they would not, I think, wish to speak the truth, that they are clearly shown to pretend to know, though they know nothing. Since then, I think, they are ambitious and vehement and numerous, and speak about me in an organized and persuasive way, they have filled your ears, slandering me both long ago and vehemently.