Watching the World Go By

Sitting in the “Indigo” café in Cambridge, there is a large plane-glass window through which I can watch people walk by. As this is on a side street from the world-famous and awe-inspiring King’s College, it is a high-traffic route. In the past couple of hours I have been here writing, I have seen thousands of people walk by from all parts of the world. Some in large groups with a leader carrying a flag or umbrella to signal the group’s leader, or just individuals, who may or may not be associated with the University. Some, like me, may be visitors or tourists, for whatever reason.

In addition, as this is a very quaint, nice café, it draws quite a continuous crowd, both of locals who know everyone working here, to small groups of one-timers, unfamiliar with the menu. As I am sitting right to the counter, and it is a very small café, I can hear all conversations, and if there is one thing that I am guilty of in life, it is eavesdropping ad nauseum in such situations. I have heard many conversations of bashing Oxford from the locals, or others comparing them from visitors and perhaps a couple dozen languages of people talking amongst themselves, deciding what to order.

Literally, the world has walked by me in the past hours.

It is something that I have tried to balance, watching the world go by, but also at times, I enjoy going to the world, which likewise brought me to a small café in England in the first place.

While walking through the streets, one of the many pamphlets I saw attached to the cast-iron gates of the colleges, announcing Mozart concerti and lectures, one was about the question of Socrates. The flyer itself had in large, bold letters, the name “PLATO” on it to catch the eye, which it did for me, so I read the smaller description. The lecture is on the question of why did Socrates choose to die, when he was offered a different alternative—Exile.

Though I will not be able to attend the lecture, I believe the answer is clearly in the two dialogs the Crito and The Apology, which show Socrates’ reason/s without a shadow of a doubt.  In the Crito, Crito, his friend, tells Socrates in his cell that he has the friends and means to spring Socrates from jail and lead him safely to exile. This being the night before he is condemned to die, having spent a month in jail, spending time saying good-bye to friends and family, Socrates is disgusted.

The resulting dialog is an echo of Socrates’ “failed” defense against the death penalty. Namely, if Socrates does go into exile, he then is admitting guilt, which he believed he was not. Moreover, why would he want to go anywhere but Athens? Except for a military campaign, a pilgrimage, and a trip to Sicily, so far as we know, Socrates never left Athens? Why? Because, the world came to him, so why did he need to go to the world? If he left his beloved Athens, the same one that killed him, he would die an exile, and now a criminal if he broke out of jail, disgraced in a foreign country, as a foreigner.

There are of course tow minds to this attitude. One, as I have seen with Sir Anthony van Dyck, the great Flemish artist who chose to leave his native Antwerp for London, where he died in honor, rather than shame as Socrates’ fear, and that of people who never leave their homeland. And, both can lead to kleos apthiton, or undying/unwithering fame, the ultimate goal for an Ancient Greek after death, which was the greatest fear of not getting, to be forgotten. Socrates would have been forgotten as a coward and a criminal in Thebes or wherever, but now is remembered as a “martyr” in Athens. When one thinks of Western Philosophy, it is impossible not to think of Socrates, and likewise, to consider 16^th-century art and not mention van Dyck, it would be a travesty.

Sitting in a café then in a world center like Cambridge, I understand both viewpoints. If I were from here, the world would come to me, but being from here, you would also want to see the world. Likewise, someone from the Athens of Socrates, you would have access to see the world at your doorstep, but also the means and resources for going to the world. Socrates chose the former, unto death.