Antiphon's surviving fragments from 'On Truth' dismantle the revered edifice of law, or 'nomos', by exposing its fundamental weakness. He doesn't just contrast it with nature, or 'physis'; he subordinates it entirely. For Antiphon, justice according to law is a fragile social construct, a set of agreements that are binding only under the threat of observation. The laws of nature, however, are rooted in an inescapable, immanent necessity. Violating them brings inherent penalty, regardless of witnesses, because the consequences are physiological—pain, harm, or death. In contrast, violating 'nomos' is only problematic if you get caught.

This reorients the entire ethical framework. The priority is not adherence to an abstract moral code but the pursuit of what is advantageous to the self. 'Physis' here is not a romanticized, essentialist Nature, but the raw, corporeal reality of an individual's existence. What benefits the body and furthers life is just by nature; what harms it is unjust. The law often demands we act against our own advantage—for instance, by not retaliating against an aggressor or by testifying truthfully against our own interests. Antiphon frames this not as noble self-sacrifice, but as a foolish submission to a system that is indifferent to our well-being.

From this perspective, 'nomos' operates as a parasitic social technology. It thrives not on inherent truth or natural order, but on the visibility of actions. It is an external mechanism of control that often forces individuals to behave in ways detrimental to their own natural advantage. The law demands that we act as if we are always being watched, effectively internalizing a panopticon that serves the interests of the collective, or the 'polis', at the expense of the individual's corporeal reality.

This creates a fundamental tension. The individual, guided by the necessities of 'physis', is a sovereign entity whose primary reality is their own body and its needs. The 'nomos' of the 'polis', however, treats the individual as a component of a larger system, imposing abstract duties and obligations—spectral chains that have no force without the fear of judgment from others. The legal system, with its courts and witnesses, is not a dispenser of true justice but an apparatus designed to enforce conformity to these artificial rules.

Antiphon’s argument culminates in a radical prioritization of the self that anticipates the egoism of later thinkers like Max Stirner. By exposing 'nomos' as a contingent and often harmful abstraction, he champions the concrete, lived reality of the individual. The only authentic guide for action is one’s own advantage, rooted in the undeniable truths of biology and physiology. Everything else—law, justice, honor, duty—is a spook, a phantom concept that gains power only through our belief in it.

Therefore, the distinction between a witnessed and an unwitnessed transgression is paramount. An unwitnessed crime against 'nomos' is, in a practical sense, not a transgression at all, for it carries no penalty and may even yield a natural advantage. The only true crimes are those against 'physis', for nature is the one judge that cannot be deceived or avoided. This ruthless pragmatism strips away the moral pretenses of law and reveals it as a mere instrument of power, effective only as far as its surveillance can reach.