Scholars generally agree about certain historical details of the trial of Socrates depicted in Plato's Apology. They agree about what the charges against Socrates were: failing to acknowledge the gods recognized by the city, introducing other new divinities, and corrupting the young. They also agree that, having been found guilty, Socrates refused to propose a punishment that the jury would find acceptable; and that, after the jury voted in favor of the death penalty, he once again addressed the jury and expressed no regrets for his manner of living or the course of his trial.

Socrates spends a large part of his speech trying to persuade his fellow citizens that he is indeed a pious man, because his philosophical mission has been carried out in obedience to the god who presides at Delphi. But the two modes of religiosity he observes - serving the god by cross-examining one's fellow citizens and accepting the guidance of a divine voice - are nothing like the conventional forms of piety in ancient Athens. The Athenians expressed their piety by participating in festivals, making sacrifices, visiting shrines, and the like. They assumed that it was the better part of caution to show one's devotion to the gods in these public and conventional ways because, if the gods were not honored, they could easily harm or destroy even the best of men and women and their families and cities as well.

If Plato's account of his philosophy is accurate, then Socrates lacked the typical Athenian's motives for participating in conventional forms of piety. He cannot believe that the gods might harm him, because he is confident that he is a good man and that a good man cannot be harmed.

In effect, then, Socrates admits that his understanding of piety is radically different from the conventional conception. But not only does Socrates have an unorthodox conception of piety and of what the gods want from the citizens of the city, he also claims to receive infallible guidance from a voice that does not hesitate to speak to him about public matters. . .