One of the most famous allegories of philosophy is that of the cave in Book VII of Plato's The Republic. Socrates, conversing with Glaucon, describes a cave wherein are chained prisoners facing a wall of the cave, so bound that they cannot look away from the wall. Behind them is a bonfire and between the fire and the prisoners is an elevated walkway. People walk to and from along the walkway, carrying divers things in their arms or on their heads.
Of the people and objects the prisoners directly know nothing. (This being an allegory, the prisoners have never known life outside the cave.)
Socrates: And suppose further that the prison had an echo which came from the other side, would they not think that when one of the passers-by spoke that the voice which they heard came from the passing shadow?There are no chains more difficult to break than chains binding the mind.
Glaucon: No question, he replied.
Socrates: The truth would be, to them, literally nothing but the shadows of the images.
Glaucon: Surely.
Socrates: And now let's see what will happen if the prisoners are released and disabused of their error. At first, when any of them is liberated and compelled suddenly to stand up and turn his neck round and walk and look towards the light, he will suffer sharp pains; the glare will distress him, and he will be unable to recognize the real world, for in his former state he had seen only the shadows. Then imagine someone saying to him that what he saw before was an illusion, but that now that his eye is turned towards more real existence, he has a clearer vision. What will be his reply? And you may further imagine that his instructor is pointing to the objects as they pass and requiring him to name them. Will he not be perplexed? Will he not insist that the shadows which he used to see are more real than the objects which are now shown to him? ...
And when he remembered his old habitation, and the wisdom of the cave and his fellow-prisoners, do you not suppose that he would felicitate himself on the change, and pity them?
Glaucon: Certainly, he would.
Socrates: And if they were in the habit of conferring honors among themselves on those who were quickest to observe the passing shadows and to remark which of them went before, and which followed after, and which were together; and who were therefore best able to draw conclusions as to the future, do you think that he would care for such honors and glories, or envy the possessors of them? Would he not say with Homer, "Better to be the poor servant of a poor master," and to endure anything, rather than think as they do and live after their manner [as he did before]?
Glaucon: Yes, he said, I think that he would rather suffer anything than entertain these false notions and live in this miserable manner.
But those chains, once broken, shatter so completely they can never be reforged.
HT: American Digest