…Philosophy, Socrates, is a pleasant pastime, if one engages in it with moderation, at the right time of life; but if one pursues it further than one should it will bring ruin. However naturally gifted a person may be, if he studies philosophy beyond a suitable age he will not have acquired the necessary experience to be thought a gentleman and a person worthy of respect.
People of this sort have no knowledge of the laws of their city, and of the language to be employed in dealings with men in private or public business, or of the human pleasures and passions; in a word, they have no idea at all how others behave. So when they are involved in any public or private matter they are as ridiculous as I imagine men of affairs to be e when they meddle with your pursuits and discussions. It comes in fact to what Euripides said:
Every man shines and strives for excellence
In the pursuit wherein his talents lie:
To this he gives the chief of all his days.
He shuns and abuses what he is weak in, and praises its opposite, out of self-love and in the belief that he is thus reflecting credit upon himself.
In my opinion, however, the best course is to have some acquaintance with both practice and theory. It is a fine thing to have a tincture of philosophy, just so much as makes a person educated, and there is no disgrace in the young philosophizing. But when a man of maturer years remains devoted to this study, the thing becomes absurd, Socrates, and I have a very similar feeling about philosophers as I have about those who stammer and play childish games. It is all very well for a child to talk and behave thus; I find it charming and delightful and quite in keeping with the tender age of a boy of free spirit; in fact, when I hear a tiny boy articulating clearly I feel distaste; it offends my ear and seems to have a slavish ring about it. But whenever one hears a grown man stammering or sees him playing like a child, it is ridiculous, and he deserves a whipping for his unmanly behavior.
I feel just the same about students of philosophy. I admire philosophy in a young lad; it is thoroughly suitable and a mark of a free man; a lad who neglects philosophy I regard as unfree and never likely to entertain any fine or noble ambition for himself. But whenever I see an older man still doing philosophy and refusing to abandon it, that man seems to me, Socrates, to need a whipping. As I said just now, such a person, however great his natural gifts, will never be a real man; shunning the busy life of the heart of the city and the meetings in which, as the poet says, “men win renown”, he will spend the rest of his life in obscurity, whispering with three or four lads in a corner and never saying anything independently or of sufficient importance for a free man.
Now, I am well disposed towards you, Socrates, and consequently I find myself now feeling much as Zethus felt towards Amphion in the play of Euripides that I quoted a moment ago. Indeed, I am inclined to adapt what Zethus said to his brother and to say to you: “Socrates, you are careless of what you should care for, your soul’s noble nature looks like a little boy’s, and the result is that you cannot contribute a word of value to the deliberations of a court, or seize upon a plausible and convincing point, or frame a bold plan in another’s cause.” Do not be offended, Socrates – I am speaking out of the kindness of my heart to you – aren’t you ashamed to be in this plight, which I believe you to share with all those who plunge deeper and deeper into philosophy?
As things are now, if anyone were to arrest you or one of your sort and drag you off to prison on a charge of which you were innocent, you would be quite helpless – you can be sure of that; you would be in a daze and gape and have nothing to say, and when you got into court, however unprincipled a rascal the prosecutor might be, you would be condemned to death, if he chose to ask for the death penalty.
But what kind of wisdom can we call it, Socrates, this art that “takes a man of talent and spoils his gifts”, so that he cannot defend himself or another from mortal danger, but lets his enemies rob him of all his goods, and lives to all intents and purposes the life of an outlaw in his own city? A man like that, if you will pardon a rather blunt expression, can be slapped on the face with complete impunity.
Take my advice then, my good friend; “abandon argument, practice the accomplishments of active life”, which will give you the reputation of a prudent man. “Leave others to split hairs” of what I don’t know whether to call folly or nonsense; “their only outcome is that you will inhabit a barren house.” Take for your models not the men who spend their time on these petty quibbles, but those who have a livelihood and reputation and many other good things.
Prometheus Unbound 