Economics

Very well; what sort of men can be taught? Point these out to me, at all events.In the first place, Socrates, you can’t make careful men of hard drinkers; for drink makes them forget everything they ought to do.

Then are drunkards the only men who will never become careful, or are there others?Of course there are—sluggards must be included; for you can’t do your own business when you are asleep, nor make others do theirs.

Well, then, will these make up the total of persons incapable of learning this lesson, or are there yet others besides?I should add that in my opinion a man who falls desperately in love is incapable of giving more attention to anything than he gives to the object of his passion.

For it isn’t easy to find hope or occupation more delightful than devotion to the darling! aye, and when the thing to be done presses, no harder punishment can easily be thought of than the prevention of intercourse with the beloved! Therefore I shrink from attempting to make a manager of that sort of man too.

And what about the men who have a passion for lucre? Are they also incapable of being trained to take charge of the work of a farm?Not at all; of course not. In fact, they very easily qualify for the work. It is merely necessary to point out to them that diligence is profitable.

And assuming that the others are free from the faults that you condemn and are covetous of gain in a moderate degree, how do you teach them to be careful in the affairs you want them to superintend?By a very simple plan, Socrates. Whenever I notice that they are careful, I commend them and try to show them honour; but when they appear careless, I try to say and do the sort of things that will sting them.

Turn now, Ischomachus, from the subject of the men in training for the occupation, and tell me about the system: is it possible for anyone to make others careful if he is careless himself?

Of course not: an unmusical person could as soon teach music. For it is hard to learn to do a thing well when the teacher prompts you badly; and when a master prompts a servant to be careless, it is difficult for the man to become a good servant.

To put it shortly, I don’t think I have discovered a bad master with good servants: I have, however, come across a good master with bad servants—but they suffered for it! If you want to make men fit to take charge, you must supervise their work and examine it, and be ready to reward work well carried through, and not shrink from punishing carelessness as it deserves.

I like the answer that is attributed to the Persian. The king, you know, had happened on a good horse, and wanted to fatten him as speedily as possible. So he asked one who was reputed clever with horses what is the quickest way of fattening a horse. The master’s eye, replied the man. I think we may apply the answer generally, Socrates, and say that the master’s eye in the main does the good and worthy work.

When you have impressed on a man, I resumed, the necessity of careful attention to the duties you assign to him, will he then be competent to act as bailiff, or must he learn something besides, if he is to be efficient?

Of course, answered Ischomachus, he has still to understand what he has to do, and when and how to do it. Otherwise how could a bailiff be of more use than a doctor who takes care to visit a patient early and late, but has no notion of the right way to treat his illness?

Well, but suppose he has learned how farm-work is to be done, will he want something more yet, or will your man now be a perfect bailiff?I think he must learn to rule the labourers.

And do you train your bailiffs to be competent to rule too?Yes, I try, anyhow.And pray tell me how you train them to be rulers of men.By a childishly easy method, Socrates. I daresay you’ll laugh if I tell you.

Oh, but it is certainly not a laughing matter, Ischomachus. For anyone who can make men fit to rule others can also teach them to be masters of others; and if he can make them fit to be masters, he can make them fit to be kings. So anyone who can do that seems to me to deserve high praise rather than laughter.