So, I'm going to start,
I'm actually going to talk about censorship in the arts,
censorship in Utopia, looking at the experiences
of the ancient and modern world.
But I want to begin with one of my favourite poems
by the American poet Wallace Stevens, and this is
'The Man with the Blue Guitar' -- some of you may know it.
I won't give you any introduction to it, just see what you think,
this is a few stanzas.
The man bent over his guitar, A shearsman of sorts.
The day was green.
They said, 'You have a blue guitar, You do not play things as they are.'
The man replied, 'Things as they are Are changed upon the blue guitar.'
And they said then, 'But play, you must, A tune beyond us, yet ourselves,
A tune upon the blue guitar Of things exactly as they are.'
I cannot bring a world quite round, Although I patch it as I can.
I sing a hero's head, large eye And bearded bronze, but not a man,
Although I patch him as I can And reach through him almost to man.
If to serenade almost to man Is to miss, by that, things as they are,
Say that it is the serenade Of a man that plays a blue guitar."
We'll come back to another stanza of that at the end of this talk.
Now one of the many interesting things about Wallace Stevens's poem
is that Stevens was fascinated by the philosophy of the Ancient Greek
philosopher Plato writing about the 370's, 380's BC.
He's intrigued by Plato's philosophy of ideas,
which we will come on to you later.
And it seems to me that these lines are almost certainly a meditation
on the attack on art and artists made by the character of Socrates
in Plato's dialogue 'The Republic'.
As you know, and this is also a point we'll come back to,
Plato never writes in his own voice, but always through various characters
in his dramatic dialogues, Socrates often being the main one.
It's important, we'll find out, that they are not the same person.
Now, those who live in this green world that Wallace Stevens describes
are angry with the man who has the temerity
to break up this monochrome greenness and play a blue guitar.
The people who are angry in Stevens's poems
are those who are voicing the attacks on artists
which Socrates puts forward,
the man with the blue guitar is, of course, the artist.
Now, what I propose to do today
is to very briefly run through, the speed of light,
some of the main arguments
made against art and artists in the dialogue 'The Republic',
in which Socrates sets up an ideally just state, or so he claims.
And I want to see if any of the charges made
have anything to tell us today, whether we can learn anything from them,
even if we want to reject the metaphysical basis
on which they're grounded, as I imagine many of us will,
I doubt if many people here are believers in Plato's theory of Forms.
I once had a student who began an essay,
'Last night when I saw the Form of the Good',
which I felt was cheating somewhat.
But I think we have a lot to learn,
and I'm going to say that, including myself, even those of us
who are wary about the notion of censorship in the arts,
I think we can still find a lot to gain from why Socrates is so nervous
about the arts and why he thinks they are so dangerous.
Now incidentally, for the sake of brevity,
I'm just going to call the character of Socrates in 'The Republic' Socrates,
but by that I don't mean the historical figure of Socrates,
I'm just using that as shorthand.
So, in Books II and III of this dialogue called 'The Republic',
in which Socrates outlines the basic foundations for an ideal state,
also called The Republic,
his first attack comes in the context of a discussion of the education
of the young guardians, by which he means
both the future rulers of this state
and also the future military force in this state,
the two guardian classes.
And in Books II and III Socrates advocates extreme censorship
of Homer and Greek tragedians such as Sophocles and Aeschylus.
Firstly, he thinks that they, the poets, then the dramatists,
misrepresent the nature of the divine,
interesting attack, given recent controversies
about Danish cartoons and the like.
And he says that these artists repeat the old myths and legends
about Zeus and Aphrodite and Dionysus, in which, of course, as you know,
the gods behave absolutely appallingly.
They lie, they cheat, they steal, they get drunk,
they lust after other people's wives, they kill family members,
and they sleep, of course, with anyone and anything that moves.
God, says Socrates, is good and is the cause only of good;
Homer and the others have got god wrong.
That's his first claim, he wants to excise all those passages
from Homer and the dramatists which get god wrong.
Secondly, art needs to be censured,
because it represents, appeals to and nurtures
dangerous emotions such as lust and greed and anger and aggression,
which should be left, says Socrates, to wither and die on the vine,
not fed and nurtured.
There's an interesting contrast here with Aristotle, of course,
writing a generation after Plato,
with Aristotle's view, who thinks that by watching
and acting out the darker aspects of the human psyche,
we can purge ourselves of such murky desires,
his famous notion of catharsis;
artistic representation is catharsis or cleansing, purging.
This is a debate we may want to come back to in the discussion,
and it's interesting that these two polar views
appear in the ancient world.
Of course, it's impossible to prove,
it's hard enough to ever make a case that a particular act of violence
is directly caused by, say, a particular film,
even if the perpetrator of the act of violence is going around dressed
as the anti-hero of the film.
Of course, it's even harder, it's impossible
to know how many crimes have been prevented,
because somebody, through watching or acting out a certain work of art,
was able to purge themselves
of certain very dangerous desires that they had.
Now, we may feel when we are reading Books II and III
that the censorship rules are too Draconian, of course we may,
but we may still also feel, well, Socrates has a point.
We're talking about the education of very young children
with plastic, imitative minds;
he wants to give them good positive role models,
before their reason has developed and can start to question and assess
the material they're presented with.
So, we may feel in principle it's not so terrible to censor the arts,
even if he takes it too far,
given the context, given the age group.
Now, by the time we get to the next attack on art,
in the final book of 'The Republic', Book X,
we're into much more disturbing territory,
because here Socrates advocates not just censoring art,
but banning, almost all art,
just getting rid of art from the ideal state in almost its entirety.
And it's not just children that are being considered here, but adults.
And, of course, a charge often made
is that Socrates is treating adults as children.
Now, the reason for the strengthening of this attack
is the psychology and metaphysics that's gone on
in 'The Republic' in the intervening books, in IV to IX.
And, again, to skip politely through
some of the most important chapters in philosophy ever written,
very, very briefly in Book IV,
we are told that the human psyche is composed of three separate parts:
The appetitive part which desires food, drink, sex, material goods,
the money needed to acquire them;
a spirited part which desires worldly honours and success and victory;
and a rational part which desires truth and reality.
Interesting that the rational part has its own desires;
the distinction is not between reason and the emotions,
but between rational and non-rational desires,
and that's important.
And our virtue, but also our flourishing and our happiness,
consist in the proper balance between these three parts of our psyche,
in what Plato calls interior harmony or mental health,
the phrase that Socrates uses.
And this will only occur if our reason
and its desires for truth and reality are in control.
And then in Books V to VII we learn a lot more
about the nature of this truth and reality
that the rational part seeks, namely the so-called Forms of the Good
and the Beautiful and the Just; abstract, unchanging, eternal entities
which are both the cause and the explanation
of all the things on this Earth.
And everything on this Earth, in this sensible phenomenal world around us,
are merely copies of the Forms -- 'Only semi-real', says Socrates.
Now, this provides the basis for the major attack on art in Book X,
because works of art are now said to be both untrue,
in the sense that they are merely copies of copies --
an idea that we could come back to --
and also hugely damaging to the harmony and health and happiness
of the individual psyche,
in that they represent, appeal to and nurture
not just dangerous, aggressive emotions
but non-rational emotions and desires in general.
And that will upset the balance of the psyche in which reason
and rational desires should rule.
So, by now almost all artists are going to be escorted politely, but firmly,
to the borders of the state and sent on their way.
We're left, apparently, we can have hymns to the gods
and paeans to good men, it sounds absolutely dire.
Now it's true that Socrates isn't comfortable about this.
He says that it really pains him to remove Homer,
and what he calls the poetry of pleasure
that Homer and the other dramatists provide,
because, says Socrates, he has loved and revered Homer
since he was a boy.
And he issues us a challenge.
He says that if anyone can show that this kind of poetry is not only pleasurable
but also useful and beneficial, really interesting use of language,
he would gladly welcome it back.
Now, when I first came across this attack on the arts, when I was about 19,
I was very shocked and disturbed for two reasons.
One, I had a very romanticized vision
of the artist as an almost holy figure outside the confines
of normal, moral conventions and expectations.
I wanted my artists to live like Baudelaire or whatever.
And in common with this, this romanticized ideal,
I think, was part of a more general ethical framework
in which I wanted to defend art on the basis of freedom of expression,
and I thought that freedom of expression was so important
because of a basic human right to freedom of expression.
So my whole language, though I wasn't really aware of it at the time,
was couched in the notion of an ethics of rights.
Now, both those visions, and both those arguments in defence of art,
would not have been available to an Ancient Greek.
Firstly, at the time Plato's writing,
there was no conception of fine art as such,
as distinct from cobbling or weaving or what...,
well, weaving, of course, we would say can be art,
but there was no distinction between an art and a craft.
The same word 'techne' is applied to both.
In terms of the technology, I hope this fulfils
the first of the TED acronyms.
And, as such, the whole notion of a poet,
the word for poet, poetes, it just means a maker in Ancient Greece.
And again, a poet is no more or less a maker than a cobbler.
Secondly, of course, there's no language, as far as we can tell,
of human rights in Ancient Greece.
They don't phrase their ethics in that way;
this is a post-Kantian move, in fact.
The closest any Ancient Greek gets to a notion of a universal right
is Aristotle when he says that he thinks humans
have a more or less sort of universal right
to hunt animals for food.
And so in the context of a modern debate on human rights,
we might say that's rather missing the point.
The point, you know, we wouldn't want to say that our sole right
was a right to kill animals for food.
The language they use, you will have noticed,
is that of usefulness and benefit.
Socrates says, poets, he would welcome them back, he wants them to come back,
if it can be shown that poetry and art
is beneficial both to the soul of the individual
and to the community as a whole.
And it's that that I think is the point I want to pick up on today,
and ask you whether you think it's worthwhile
reinvigorating the debate in the arts
and asking is this particular art form, is this particular example of an art form,
is it beneficial, is it going to increase my quality of life,
the quality of life of my community?
Now, you might feel that's an illegitimate question,
you might want to be as I used to be
and think all artists should be like Baudelaire,
and not worry about such sort of bourgeois,
middle-aged kind of concerns.
But my challenge is, I think it is an interesting question;
we're asking at the moment whether banking ought to be socially useful,
why can't we ask that of the arts as well?
And I want to conclude with two points;
because I think that actually, Plato wants us to have this debate,
and I think Plato might well eventually himself,
Plato not Socrates, come down on the side of the artist;
because I said at the beginning I wanted to distinguish the character of Socrates
from Plato the artist.
Plato is a very great artist himself.
His dramatic dialogues are fabulous to read,
the characterization, the vivid imagery,
the scene setting,
the irony, the wit, the forward shadowing,
ironically of future events. He uses every artistic trick in the book.
They're wonderful to read as a literature in their own right.
And so I think Plato has set us a deliberate irony.
His work called 'The Republic' would be banned
from the ideal state set out by the character of Socrates in that work;
it does not meet the censorship rules that we've been looking at.
Now, Plato is intelligent enough to be aware of that irony.
So what I want to suggest here is that Plato is deliberately giving us
different ideas, provocative ideas,
on the usefulness or uselessness of art to get a debate going.
He's not necessarily going to agree with what the character of Socrates says.
He might be more sympathetic to a view later put forward by John Stuart Mill
in the 19th century in his famous work on liberty.
Mill there argues that truth is best served
through the free and open exchange of ideas and information,
and that this is a process that needs to be ongoing.
Mill argues that even a true belief
is liable to rigidify into dead dogma over time
if it's not challenged.
And I think this is exactly what Plato is trying to do.
We don't have to go down the route
of extreme censorship or the banning of the arts
to invigorate the debate on whether a particular work of art is worthwhile.
I want to conclude with another verse of the Wallace Stevens poem.
The attackers of art say:
Do not speak to us of the greatness of poetry,
Of [the] torches wisping in the underground,
Of the structure of vaults upon a point of light.
There are no shadows in our sun,
Day is desire and night is sleep.
There are no shadows anywhere.
The earth, for us, is flat and bare.
There are no shadows.
Now, Socrates with his picture of the Form of the Good,
which he likens to the sun, invites us to consider a round without shadows in it.
Plato, the artist, however, paints us a picture
throughout 'The Republic' and all his works
of a world full of light and shade,
which is much more sympathetic to art
providing it can be shown to be useful and improve our quality of life.
So what I'd like to say to you is that I hope
that you will all go away and treat yourself to some Plato,
if you haven't already done that in your lives.
But as you're doing this, I hope you'll also continue defiantly
to strum away on a blue guitar.
Thank you.
(Applause)