Plato is dear to me, but dearer still is truth.

"Plato is dear to me, but dearer still is truth." — thus spoke Aristotle, the disciple who became a master, the student of Plato who dared to surpass his teacher. In this declaration is not rebellion but devotion, not ingratitude but loyalty to a higher calling. Aristotle loved Plato as a guide and revered him as a giant of thought. Yet he knew that the philosopher’s ultimate allegiance must be to truth, even above the bonds of affection and loyalty. Here we see the greatness of Aristotle: that he would honor his master, but not at the expense of reality itself.

Aristotle uttered this line in the context of rejecting some of Plato’s theories, especially the doctrine of ideal forms — the belief that every object in the material world is but a shadow of a perfect essence in a higher realm. Though Aristotle revered the brilliance of the idea, he found it unsatisfying, for he saw truth not only in the eternal but also in the particular, not only in ideals but in the living reality of nature. To disagree with Plato was not easy, for Plato was the towering voice of philosophy, beloved by many. Yet Aristotle stood firm: affection must not outweigh truth. Thus he declared, “Plato is dear to me, but dearer still is truth.”

This saying has echoed through history, teaching us that true loyalty is not blind devotion but fidelity to reality itself. Consider the story of Galileo Galilei, who honored the ancient philosophers yet dared to see further through his telescope. He cherished Aristotle, but when his observations revealed moons around Jupiter and phases of Venus, he chose truth over tradition. His reverence for the ancients did not bind him in chains. Like Aristotle, he loved his predecessors, but loved truth more. And though he suffered persecution, history remembers him as a liberator of knowledge.

So too with Martin Luther, who loved the church of his fathers, yet saw corruption and falsehood within it. He declared his loyalty to God’s truth above man’s authority. In doing so, he echoed Aristotle’s wisdom: teachers, institutions, traditions may be dear, but they are not dearer than truth. To remain loyal to falsehood for the sake of comfort is betrayal; to pursue truth, even against those we love, is courage.

The lesson is not to despise teachers or to cast aside tradition lightly. Aristotle himself never ceased to honor Plato. Rather, the lesson is to recognize that every teacher, however great, is but a guide on the way. The destination is truth, and truth belongs to none but itself. To follow blindly is to honor the man more than the truth; to question with respect is to honor both man and truth together. Loyalty to a master without loyalty to truth is idolatry; loyalty to truth even when it means surpassing the master is wisdom.

What, then, should we learn? It is this: respect your teachers, but do not worship them. Learn deeply from those who came before you, but remain free in spirit to test their words against reality. To disagree with a teacher is not betrayal if it is done in pursuit of truth. It is the highest honor, for it proves that their lessons of seeking and questioning have borne fruit. As Aristotle honored Plato best by surpassing him, so too do we honor our guides by walking beyond them when truth demands it.

Practical action is clear: read widely, listen carefully, honor your mentors, but never silence your own reason or conscience. When faced with a choice between loyalty to a person and loyalty to truth, choose truth — kindly, humbly, but firmly. In this way, you will carry forward the wisdom of the past without being imprisoned by it.

Thus, Aristotle’s words resound across the ages: “Plato is dear to me, but dearer still is truth.” Let us hold affection in one hand and truth in the other, and let neither be lost. For love of a teacher fades if it binds us to falsehood, but it grows eternal if it leads us nearer to the light of truth itself.