Allowing the Poets into the Republic: Revisiting Plato’s War Against Public Opinion

By David Gosselin

Featured in New Lyre Winter 2024

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All great art has a naturally hypnotic power. Poetry’s lyrical and musical forms of expression have entranced human civilizations for millennia. Even today’s modern “pop” songs are by-and-large distillations and formalizations (often superficial) of earlier classical and lyrical modes of poetic expression. Take the ancient Greek poets like Sappho, Arion and Stesichorus: their verses were accompanied by a musical instrument like the lyre or kithara. From these arts arose the tradition of the lyric song, as in words accompanied by the lyre. Or consider the Ancient Greek dithyrambs, the ecstatic hymns sung and danced in honor of the god Dionysus, and accompanied by the aulos. Whether epic, lyric or dramatic forms, many of our most common modern musical modes of expression are ultimately derivations and adaptations of these earlier classical traditions. 

Today, anyone hearing a pop song can observe its seemingly magical ability to induce what hypnotists call “altered states.” We drive to work, clean or spend time with friends and family while music breathes life into the overall moment and allows us to access a world of emotion—one which everyday waking consciousness usually forbids. These quasi-hypnotic states of musical suggestion may cause us to feel things we may or may not wish to feel, to relate thoughts and emotions in new or impassioned combinations or solidify with words and rhythms what may have otherwise been a passing, half-waking fancy.  

While many of us may hear the word hypnosis and imagine some cartoonish or Hollywoodian Clockwork Orange-style character being force-fed messages in front of a giant screen, the trance-like qualities of poetry and song have always been there. Plato recognized this going back to the times of Ancient Greece, where he keenly observed poetry’s power over the hearts and minds of Greek citizens. In his Republic, he was explicit about the seemingly magical effects invoked by the imagery of the poets, and how this largely shaped the psycho-cosmological matrix of Greek civilization, from its origin stories and gods to its exemplars of virtue and wisdom.  

Indeed, we can observe that whether in the case of the martial and warlike spirit of Homer’s Iliad or the Dionysian fervor of the 1960s Beat and counterculture generations, music and poetry have tended to reflect the emerging or dominant images of man. But one could go further and argue that in many ways these musical trends often shape the images themselves. For instance, consider the “Gallup-poll” effect: the ostensible goal is to provide people with information concerning what the population generally believes or feels, however, opinion polls in and of themselves subtly shape public opinion and belief by signaling “this is what most people believe or desire.” The effect is to legitimize certain issues or positions, frame the ostensible choices related to various issues, and leverage people’s inborn tendency to rely on “the group” as an authoritative source for information and ideas. 

However, music and poetry may be said to operate in even subtler ways. They not only suggest various ideas and worldviews, the music and rhythms signal how one might think or feel about a given set of experiences or beliefs. Whether the question of fighting a war or wooing a mate, music, art and poetry largely place us in those altered states of affectation which cause us to emote with a subject or object. They do so without any direct or explicit order, but by altering our emotional states in respect to various experiences and ideas. In a word: music and art cause us to feel; and these feelings lead to thoughts.  

Naturally, these altered states say little regarding whether the dreams we dream are good dreams, or if they might turn out to be nightmares somewhere down the road, or whether the thing desired is even the real thing, rather than some clever imitation. Having observed the people of Ancient Athens and its neighboring city states, Plato was wise to this reality. For this reason, he pointed out that no sound leader of any society intent on creating a lasting civilization could overlook the power of song and poetry—and ultimately culture—over its citizens. What one might do about the situation is a different story, but that culture is indeed downstream from politics was obvious to Plato over 2000 years ago, as it should be for us today. 

So, Plato in his Laws spoke of songs and poetry as “charms” which exerted an alchemical-like quality over the populace, especially its young people. The effect was to create visceral experiences which promoted certain desires or emotions, upholding specific narratives while discounting others. Whether in Plato’s Republic, Laws or Western civilization today, no ruling power ever takes the artistic trends and messages they convey lightly. 

And neither should we today. 

The Poetics of Truth? 

The purpose of it is to lead young people of ability, and perhaps older people too, gradually, with Reason for our guide, from the things of sense, to God, in order that they may cling to Him who rules all and governs our intelligence, with no mediating Nature between. ... It is the ascent from rhythm in sense, to the immortal rhythm which is in truth.  

—St. Augustine - De Musica 

In his Republic, Plato famously teased out the paradox of what a society intent on its lasting survival would do regarding the state of its poetry and literature—the lifeblood of its culture. So, he playfully asked whether one should or should not allow the poets into his ideal republic, given their charming power over the populace. For, who were the poets of Ancient Greece if not the chief “image-makers” shaping the population’s understanding of its gods, genealogies, their foundational myths and self-image? What happens to a society on a macroscale when these deeply felt emotional bonds and images are incorrect, misleading or subversive?