The Practical Roles of the Ideal: Adam Smith and Plato

Politics requires compromise; it is important to not allow the best to become the enemy of the good, yet low expectations can breed negative outcomes. Maintaining high expectations for a more just government and freer society and, at the same time, possessing a willingness to settle for or even promote imperfect options is a challenge, even an art. Such tension is inherent and irremovable.

Plato wrestled with this necessary balance well before the political theorists of the 18th century. While composing The Republic, Plato knew that the perfect republic is impossible. Socrates tells his interlocutors that they will construct “a city...in speech” to understand justice (Republic 45.369a). This city is neither a recommendation nor even a desire.

Plato seems keenly aware that just and responsible individuals are the necessary foundation for hopes of a more just government. Just individuals can, directly and indirectly, influence lawmakers in a beneficial manner. Such a realization is shared by Adam Smith. Aristotle is more often seen as a link from the ancient world to eighteenth century liberalism, but aspects of Plato’s philosophy are also compatible with liberal political philosophy. That compatibility is illuminated by ideas in Smith. Smith helps us see a point often missed by readers of Plato: Ideals are most vitally meaningful in individual moral development and may then have subsequent ramifications for political order. However, they must be treated carefully in the political realm. For Plato as for Smith, the first practical sphere of influence for ideal standards is the domain of individual aspiration and responsibility. There is still relevance for ideal standards in the political domain, but they are more tightly constrained by the realization of what will and will not ever be achieved therein—a realization comprehended by Plato as well as Smith.

In Theory of Moral Sentiments (TMS), Smith writes that “exact propriety and perfection” are unattainable, but it is good for the individual to aim for them in his or her own behavior (TMS 247.23). Though idealistic-sounding, this approach has important practical implications. Smith recommends aiming for the unreachable, perfect, ideal standard to get closer to it. Just as for Smith the ethical counterpart of liberty—personal responsibility—is more important to emphasize in order to realize both liberty and responsibility, so for Plato the sociological counterpart of a just polity—just individuals—is crucial for approaching both.

Any hope for a better polity lies principally with the individuals who have better approached justice through the right ordering of their own souls. Such is the practical import of an idealistic-sounding philosophy. This approach does not undermine the importance of being pragmatic in the political realm. Smith sheds light on the ways in which The Republic is deeply practical because it is based on a realistic understanding of human nature. It is a work of moral as well as political philosophy, similar to TMS. In both thinkers, we can discover practical roles of the ideal.

The practical roles of the ideal in The Theory of Moral Sentiments

The concept of the highest impartial spectator and its representative, the man within the breast, are central in TMS (TMS 215.11). Man’s “sordid and selfish” passive feelings are, one hopes, overcome by his active principles that induce him to act more generously and nobly, through the influence of the man within the breast or the conscience. The individual ought to seek his conscience’s approval and avoid its disapproval. The man within the breast “astonishes” the man’s passions and reminds him of his place in the multitude (TMS 137.4). Each man develops some sense of duty to the man within the breast and thereby some self-command. By following the guidance of the impartial spectator, the passions are better ordered or better commanded and subdued. A more just order is gradually cultivated within the person.

The highest impartial spectator ought to be considered the most important judge of one’s behavior. Reference to him is then crucial. God, or the godlike highest impartial spectator, is the one whom the individual ought to aim to please. One hopes for an upward-trending progression of wisdom and virtue, becoming better aligned with the highest impartial spectator. This individual upwardness, if achieved, is accompanied by beneficial outcomes for the larger community. The highest spectator judges one’s actions as they are, or are not, beneficial to larger wholes. For Smith, right conduct serves universal benevolence.

A correspondence exists between good conduct and the good of the whole. It is the highest impartial spectator that makes the correspondence cohere. Good conduct is encouraged through the man within the breast, who, again, is the representative of that spectator. And what is encouraged, or, what makes conduct good, is that which advances the good of the whole. Such upward improvement is directional, more aptly described as feasible and practical than as idealistic.

The ideal plays a practical role, however, in the mind and soul of the individual who seeks to be “lovely” rather than simply loved by those around him: “Man desires not only to be loved but to be lovely, to be the natural and proper object of love” (TMS 113.1). Smith details how the praise or censure of one’s family and friends is important in moral development, but the virtuous man seeks to be praiseworthy more than he seeks praise from other people. Praiseworthiness, however, is sensed by a form of praise/blame, namely, that of his man within the breast. The conscience, though imperfect, is the signal channel between us and the highest impartial spectator. As a practical matter, then, the upwardly-oriented man does seek praise, but he aims at something higher than the praise of those around him: the idea of praiseworthy conduct as maintained by his conscience.

In two places in TMS, Smith presents standards by which men judge their own actions and behavior. The first place is early in the book, in the presentation of propriety and of the amiable and respectable virtues. He writes of two standards: the first, one’s vague notion of complete propriety and perfection, in comparison to which one always falls short; the second, the idea of that “degree of proximity or distance from this complete perfection which the actions of the greater part of men commonly arrive at” (TMS 26.9, italics added). People most often focus on the second standard. But even in the standard of common performance, there is reference to one’s notion of perfection of propriety. One judges one’s own propriety in comparison to common performance, but such a sense is possible only in reference to a supposed highest standard.

Smith also writes of two standards in material added in 1790, saying that the wise and virtuous man is the one who follows the standard of “exact propriety and perfection” instead of the other standard, what “the greater part of [his] friends and companions, [his] rivals and competitors may have actually arrived at” (TMS 247.23-25). The notional ideal is unattainable, but it is what one ought to aim for. An idea of perfection exists in the mind of every man and, from birth, through the “slow, gradual, and progressive work of the great demigod within the breast, the great judge and arbiter of conduct... [The wise man] endeavors as well as he can, to assimilate his own character to this archetype of perfection. But he imitates the work of a divine artist, which can never be equaled” (TMS 247.25). The wise man minds the higher standard and thereby is humbled as he compares himself to it. Those who mind the second standard of “ordinary perfection...have little sense of their own weaknesses and imperfections” and are prone to pride, arrogance, and contempt for others (TMS 249.27).

Character improvement affects both the individual and society. Smith writes, “he is certainly not a good citizen who does not wish to promote, by every means in his power, the welfare of the whole society of his fellow citizens” (TMS 231.11). But this statement is embedded within the larger discussion of personal virtue. Smith tells of the “humbler department...much more suitable to the weakness of his powers and to the narrowness of his comprehension” allotted to each man, calling him to the “care of his own happiness, and that of his family, his friends, his country” (TMS 237.6). It is “the characters of men” along with the institutions of civil government, that will either “promote or disturb the happiness both of the individual and of the society” (TMS 187.1).

Smith does not call for top-down implementation of some supposed ideal plan for the liberal order; rather, individuals are left free to pursue betterment. As the individual aims at perfection in his own actions and behavior, the betterment of the society around him through the flourishing of the liberal plan is more likely to follow. But still a practical role for the ideal exists even in the realm of law and policy: “Some general, and even systematical, idea of the perfection of policy and law, may no doubt be necessary for directing the views of the statesmen” (TMS 234.18). “[T]he system of natural liberty” is sketched in the Wealth of Nations (687.51), and Smith identifies ideal policy for completely free international trade (471.43), the relinquishing of all colonies (616–617.66), and a plan of taxation (933–34.67–68). Smith acknowledges that such ideals are unattainable yet still suggests that they are not entirely “useless and chimerical” (934.68). Thus, direction-setting North Stars do play an important role in policy (“the science of a legislator”) and presumably also in the “insidious and crafty” art of good politics (468.39). It is when rulers insist on their supposed ideal plan, against human nature and practicality, that they become dangerous and arrogant.

The practical role of the ideal in The Republic

Some read the Republic as expounding an ideal city. They see Plato as an idealist who, having presented an ideal state and found it impossible to realize, abandons the whole idea of political action. But the Republic is first and foremost an investigation into the human soul. For the sake of helpful analogy and in service to understanding the individual, Plato compares the soul to a polis. The analogy of a man to a city points to the inseparability of the two and the influence each has on the other. It is the individual and what he should aim towards that Plato has most on his mind.

The Republic’s primary theme is justice. Pushed to defend the just life over the unjust life, Socrates sets out to define justice and to defend a life lived in service to justice. Socrates connects the character of the citizens and the character of the city in which they dwell. Each reflects the other. The ideal here, then, refers to that toward which each individual person ought to aim; perfection is attained in the governing and ordering of one’s own passions, in achieving justice internally. In fact, the perfectly just republic is impossible, but hope remains that individuals might get closer to having just souls. Such improvement, in turn, will perhaps be reflected in the larger society in which those people reside. If virtue is not encouraged and pursued, the city is more apt to fall to corruption, leading to the execution of a just man, like Socrates. The governance of the city will reflect the character of its leaders.

One definition of justice that Socrates and his interlocutors discover is that it is “the practice of minding of one’s own business” (Republic 111.433a). Students of Smith may think of his prudent man, who “is not a meddler in other people’s affairs,” who “confines himself, as much as duty will permit, to his own affairs” (TMS 215), as well as Smith’s moral authorization of what Erik Matson (2023) calls “focalism.”

That man is just, says Socrates, who governs himself and who keeps each part of himself minding its business. Socrates posits a tripartite soul: the calculating, the spirited, and the desiring. Smith represented these three parts in Plato as “reason,” “the irascible part,” and “the concupiscible part” (TMS 267–68.3–4). Justice in the soul corresponds to keeping each part ordered, moderated together, and directed toward its proper end. Thus, justice in this context is, for Socrates, an interior matter. Socrates is primarily concerned with persuading his young and ambitious interlocutors that to set one’s “own house in good order” is the only worthy endeavor for a human being (Republic 123.443d). By the close of Book IX, after constructing the city in speech—i.e. the supposed ideal city—Socrates admits that such a city is impossible for humans to achieve. However, it is possible for the individual to choose to pursue justice within himself. The degree to which each individual rules himself well and minds his own matters is the degree to which the city may grow in justice and good order. As Socrates states, in “heaven”—or the highest conception of the good—there is “perhaps a pattern laid up for the man who wants to see and found a city within himself on the basis of what he sees. It doesn’t make any difference whether it is or will be somewhere” (Republic 275.592b).

This ideal of personal perfection is an aspirational model by which individuals may judge the formation of their own souls. Socrates encourages both his friends and enemies to aim for the highest ideal, but to do so in their own lives first. The perfectly just life is, he argues, the best life. But it is approached only through proper education and diligent practice. He exhorts them to “always keep the upper road and practice justice with prudence in every way so that we shall be friends to ourselves and the gods” (Republic 303.621c). Socrates’ parting advice can be heard in Smiths’ treatment of the corruption that grows from an ambitious life. Smith cautions the reader to “never come within the circle of ambition; nor ever bring [oneself] into comparison with those masters of the earth who have already engrossed the attention of half mankind before [one]” if one wishes to live one’s virtuous life “free, fearless, and independent” (TMS 57.7).

Socrates considers political idealism dangerous as it encourages the worst forms of striving. Swift is the devolution of the regimes in the city in speech from the just rule of the philosopher to the enslavement by the murderous tyrant. In his interpretive essay on The Republic, Allan Bloom says that what Plato illustrates is that political regimes “can be improved but not perfected” (in Plato 1968, 410). Socrates “constructs his utopia to point up the dangers of what we would call utopianism; as such it is the greatest critique of political idealism ever written” (ibid). Such an interpretation starkly contrasts with those who classify Plato as a political idealist, and it reminds the student of Smith of his caution against “the man of system” (TMS 233–234.17). The Republic, Bloom argues, “serves to moderate the extreme passion for political justice by showing the limits of what can be demanded and expected of the city; and, at the same time, it shows the direction in which the immoderate desires can be meaningfully channeled” (in Plato 1968, 410). Thus, the dialogue encourages the highest ideals for personal pursuit while discouraging the collective enforcement of such ideals through political means. Political enforcement of ideals inevitably becomes tyrannical.

The aspirations that Plato presents are directional rather than destinational—there is still reference to a higher ideal, but in the realm of individual action. Only when the individual has achieved some measure of justice in his own soul can he benefit others around him.

Understanding Plato through Smith

Few would characterize the great liberal thinker behind the Wealth of Nations as a naïve utopian idealist. In “Adam Smith’s View of Man,” Ronald Coase (1976) points out that Smith’s understanding of human nature as articulated in TMS undergirds the Wealth of Nations. Similarly, Plato’s understanding of human nature undergirds his conclusions about what is and is not attainable in the political realm. Understanding individual human nature must precede drawing conclusions about political questions. Practical applications of ideal standards take place at the level of the individual. While they would be inappropriate or even dangerous in the political realm, they are not so on the individual level. This is arguably true for Smith’s thinking as well as Plato’s.

As philosopher Roger Scruton wrote, “Smith place[s] duty and responsibility [where they] belong at the heart of social order” (Scruton 2018, 53). There are no rights without corresponding duties, and Smith works harder to instill duties than to instill rights (Klein 2023, ch. 7). Smith teaches that individuals seeking virtue and self-command provide the necessary foundation of a free society; he asks: “What institution of government could tend so much to promote the happiness of mankind as the general prevalence of wisdom and virtue?” (TMS 187.1).

Smith’s moral philosophy in TMS illumines Plato’s philosophy in The Republic. For both philosophers, a role for ideals exists as individuals aim for the highest goods in their personal lives. Still, the moral and political philosophy of both adhere to the practical side of the liberal tradition. Politics is practical but, as noted, still directional. Directional may seem to imply aspirational, but, in “the science of a legislator,” the aspiration is, as it were, merely directional—efforts to advance a broad set of maxims or general principles which, one believes, tend to spell better life for the whole.

Smith and Plato were well-aware of the practical constraints—and dangers—that inhere in human nature. The role of the ideal is different on the individual level of human action than it is on the political level. A personal pursuit of upwardness is sustainable, irrespective of the political conditions one finds oneself in. And that personal pursuit is perhaps the most practical way to influence how society is governed. Government is influenced in no small measure by the level of responsibility and discipline achieved by each of the individual citizens therein.

Plato’s insights into the relationship between the individual and the state endure, echoed through centuries by some of the greatest thinkers, like Smith.


Michaela A. Loughran holds a double B.A. in Economics and History from George Mason University, where she is now pursuing an M.A. in Economics. She also works as Managing Editor for classical education nonprofit Cana Academy.

This essay is part of the AdamSmithWorks series Just Sentiments curated by Daniel B. Klein and Erik Matson. New essays will be published on the fourth Wednesday of most months. You can read more about the series in this Speaking of Smith post, "Just Sentiments- Welcome!". Klein and Matson lead the Adam Smith Program in the Department of Economics at George Mason University, in association with the Mercatus Center. In the program, they study big ideas in jurisprudence, politics, ethics, and economics as they were pursued during the original arc of liberalism, especially in the 18th century in Britain.


References

Coase, R. H. 1976. Adam Smith’s View of Man. The Journal of Law & Economics 19(3): 529–46. Link

Klein, Daniel B. 2023. Central Notions of Smithian Liberalism. Vancouver: CL Press. Link

Matson, Erik W. 2023: The Edifying Discourse of Adam Smith: Focalism, Commerce, and Serving the Common Good. Journal of the History of Economic Thought 45(2), June: 298 - 320

Plato. 1968. The Republic of Plato (A. Bloom, Trans.). New York: Basic Books.

Scruton, Roger. 2018. Conservatism: An Invitation to the Great Tradition. New York: All Points Books.

Smith, Adam. 1976. The Theory of Moral Sentiments (A. Macfie and D. Raphael, Eds.). Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Smith, Adam. 1976. The Wealth of Nations (R.H. Campbell, A.S. Skinner, W.B. Todd, Eds.) Oxford: Oxford University Press.