A Journey Through Utopia: Early and Late Visions in Plato and Huxley

By Adam Sedia

The Golden Age ( circa 1530) - Lucas Cranach the Elder

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Utopian literature is ubiquitous enough to constitute its own sub-genre of fiction – and to contain its own spinoff subcategory of dystopian literature. The term “utopia” comes from the title of St. Thomas More’s utopian work and derives from the Greek οὐ τόπος, or “not a place.” That is, utopias are thought-experiments, products of conjecture to illustrate an ideal as though it were embodied in reality. Dystopias, from δυσ τόπος, or “bad place,” is an anti-utopia, equally imaginary, but instead envisioning an embodiment of evil, usually to advocate for its opposite ideal. 

Plato is considered among the first utopian thinkers based on the ideal city he describes in the Republic, and among twentieth-century dystopias the world of Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World has been particularly influential. Less well known, however, are both Platos’ and Huxley’s later works, the Laws and Island, respectively. These two late works address the same themes as their earlier and better-known counterparts and treat those themes from an opposite view. 

This essay will compare these early and late works of Plato and Huxley and compare not just the works, but how both authors treat their utopian visions differently between their earlier and later works. In both authors’ visions, idealism is favored, but practicality wins in the end. 

Plato: the Republic and the Laws 

Plato’s Republic is considered one of the foundational texts of Western philosophy. Like the vast majority of Plato’s dialogues, he presents it as a conversation between his mentor Socrates and Glaucon, Polemarchus, Thrasymachus, and Adeimantus – all students of his – along with Polemarchus’s father Cephalus.  

The dialogue begins with Cephalus discussing how in his old age he can dedicate himself to justice to prepare for the afterlife. Socrates then asks his interlocutors to define justice, to which Thrasymachus infamously responds that, effectively, “might makes right.” From there the discussion turns towards justice and injustice in an individual, and Socrates suggests the city (that is, a nation) as a metaphor to seek how justice enters into the soul of an individual. 

Thus Plato begins his thought experiment of constructing an ideal society. Different roles are needed, and the task of leading and defending falls to a class of “guardians.” Because the guardians must have knowledge to distinguish friend from foe if they are to protect the city, they must be philosophers and therefore trained as such. 

In discussing the role of the guardians, Plato, always through the guise of Socrates, discusses their education and the role art and poetry are to play. Because God is good and therefore eternal, the traditional Greek myths have no place in Plato’s city, and poetry should represent only virtue to encourage its imitation. 

Plato then discusses the “noble lie” that is to be the foundational myth of this ideal state: people possess different qualities of character, analogized to gold, silver, and bronze. Because these “metal” qualities are not hereditary – a gold child may be born to a bronze parent and vice versa – Plato asserts his infamous injunction that the guardian class hold property and even wives in common so that none may see another as master or slave. 

Once the ideal city is presented, Plato, through Socrates, poses the question, “Is all of this practical?” He provides the famous answer: yes, “if philosophers become kings or kings become philosophers.” Philosophers are those who see past the forms to the ideals. To illustrate this principle, Plato gives his famous analogy of the cave, in which viewers are chained to see only shadows cast on the wall in front of them from the light entering the cave behind them. The shadows are the physical realm of everyday perception; the unseen objects casting them are the ideals they cannot see. The philosopher is the one who turns around and sees the ideals, and it is the duty of education to “return to the cave” and show others the ideals behind the forms. 

From this discussion of the ideal, Plato returns first to his ideal city, comparing the forms of government in descending order of happiness: first the guardian, then the timocrat (one who seeks honor), then the oligarch (one who seeks riches), then the democrat (one who seeks public approval), and lastly the dictator (one who seeks power).  

For Plato, man possesses a tripartite mind, consisting of reason, passion (or spirit), and desire (or appetite), and describes the function of law as taming the passions and desires of those who cannot do so themselves. Expanding on this tripartite nature, Plato holds the ideal itself superior to its embodiment, which is in turn superior to a representation of that embodiment. Because poets and painters deal in representations, they are two steps removed from reality and appeal to the passions, the worst side of human nature. Thus Plato’s further infamous injunction to “expel all poets from the republic.” 

From there Plato concludes the dialogue with a discussion of the soul. The mind is immortal, and a defect (immorality) does not destroy it. Good and bad souls are nonetheless judged, then either blessed or purified, then reincarnated, as the soul is immortal. 

The Republic has been a favorite target of Platonism’s detractors, who point to the strict communism among the guardian class and his infamous “expulsion of the poets” as both inhumane and unhuman. The criticisms, however, fail to account for the primary purpose of Plato’s discussion. Plato’s purpose is not to discuss how to govern an actual city, but to govern an individual soul. The city only serves as a extended metaphor for the soul’s moral guidance. 

The central discussion of the Republic is the exposition of the concept of the ideal as truth beyond the representations perceived by the senses. Just as the ideal exists independently of its representations, Plato’s ideal city exists independently of actual cities. Plato is not offering advice on how to govern a city, but presenting his ideal city as a metaphor to discuss how to govern a soul.