The blame is his who chooses: God is blameless.

“The blame is his who chooses: God is blameless.” — thus wrote Plato, the philosopher of Athens, whose wisdom still illuminates the dark corridors of human thought. These words, drawn from his immortal dialogue The Republic, were spoken as part of a divine parable — a story of souls choosing their destinies before descending into mortal life. In this simple yet profound statement, Plato lays bare the ancient law of responsibility, the truth that freedom of choice is both the glory and the burden of humankind. For though the gods may set the stage and offer the paths, it is man himself who walks — and therefore, he alone bears the weight of his steps.

The origin of this quote is found near the end of The Republic, in the myth of Er, a soldier who dies in battle and is granted a vision of the afterlife. In this vision, souls prepare for rebirth. The gods present before them various destinies — some noble, some wretched, some powerful, some humble. Yet it is not fate or divine decree that determines what each soul becomes. Each must choose. The gods, being just, have given freedom to all but compel none. “The blame is his who chooses,” says Plato through the voice of the philosopher — for God is blameless, merely offering what man must accept or reject. Thus, the ancient sage teaches that the moral order of the universe rests not upon the whims of heaven, but upon the will of the soul.

To the ancients, this was no small revelation. Many had believed that destiny was fixed — that men were puppets of divine forces, slaves to the threads spun by the Fates. But Plato shattered that fatalism. He declared that the gods, being good, do not impose evil upon men; it is men who, in ignorance or arrogance, choose wrongly. This, then, is the foundation of moral philosophy: that the freedom to choose is sacred, but with freedom comes accountability. To curse the heavens for one’s own choices is folly. The gods do not err — the soul does. And yet, even in error, there lies the seed of wisdom, for each wrong path walked may awaken the desire for truth.

This teaching resounds through all ages. Consider the story of Judas Iscariot, the disciple who betrayed his teacher, Jesus of Nazareth. Many have asked whether Judas was doomed to betrayal — whether his act was written in the stars. Yet, according to the spirit of Plato’s truth, Judas was not forced by fate; he was offered a choice. His decision, born of greed and disillusionment, was his own. The divine plan unfolded around him, but his participation in it was freely chosen. The divine remains blameless, for no soul is compelled toward sin; rather, it is the will, misled by desire, that brings suffering upon itself.

Plato’s wisdom also reveals a deeper mercy hidden within justice. If God is blameless, then He is not a tyrant but a teacher. He allows choice so that learning may take place, and through the pain of consequence, the soul grows wise. Every trial, every sorrow, every misstep is not punishment, but the fruit of freedom. To deny this truth is to remain a child before the law of life. But to embrace it — to see that your present condition is the result of your own choices — is to reclaim your power. For if you are the author of your error, then you are also the author of your redemption.

In this, Plato’s insight touches the heart of all great philosophies and faiths. The Buddha taught that suffering arises from attachment, not from divine injustice. The Hebrew prophets declared that each man reaps what he sows. Even in modern times, the same truth endures: freedom demands responsibility. The wise do not waste breath blaming others — they turn inward, examining their motives, refining their hearts, and shaping their destinies anew. To say that “God is blameless” is to recognize the divine order as perfect; it is we who must learn to align ourselves with it.

Therefore, my child, take this teaching into your heart: do not lay blame upon heaven for the burdens of your choices. Life is a mirror — it reflects the actions and intentions of the soul. If you find yourself in darkness, do not curse the light for being far away; walk toward it. If you fall, rise again, for the gods do not condemn those who err, only those who refuse to learn. Accept your freedom with reverence, for it is the greatest gift and the greatest test.

And so, as Plato taught, let your choices be made not in haste or vanity, but in wisdom. Seek the good, the just, and the true in every decision. When you fail, repent; when you succeed, give thanks. For in the end, the divine remains pure and steadfast — and the blame is his who chooses. To live by this truth is to walk as a philosopher of the soul, at peace with heaven and at war only with one’s own folly. In such living, man transcends the shadows of ignorance and rises toward the light of divine understanding — where God is blameless, and the soul, at last, learns to be free.