THE EVOLUTIONIST END.
[Sidenote: Want of harmony between evolutionism and hedonism.]
In showing the important bearing which evolution has on the causes
of pleasure, the argument of the preceding chapter has also made
clear that the ends of evolutionism and of hedonism cannot be made
to explain one another. The theory which starts with a maximum of
pleasure as the ultimate end, but points to the course of evolution
as showing how that end is to be realised, is confronted by the
fact that the development of life does not always tend to increased
pleasure, and that the laws of its development cannot therefore be
safely adopted as maxims for the attainment of pleasure. The same
objection may be taken to the method of interpreting the evolutionist
end by means of the pleasurable results of conduct. The two do not
correspond with that exactness which would admit of one doing duty
for the other as a practical guide. And a further difficulty has been
shown to stand in the way of this method. For, on coming to analyse
pleasure, we find that it may, by habituation, arise from any--or
almost any--course of conduct which the conditions of existence admit
of. The evolutionist, therefore, can have no surer idea of greatest
pleasure--even although this may not be a very sure one--than that
it will follow in the train of the greatest or most varied activity
which harmonises with the laws of life.
[Sidenote: Necessity of investigating independent evolutionist end.]
We must therefore forsake the method of eclecticism, and inquire
whether the theory of evolution can make any independent contribution
towards determining an end for conduct. We are frequently told that
it prescribes as the end "preservation," or "development," or "the
health of the society." But to obtain a clear meaning for such
notions, we must see what definite content the theory of evolution
can give them,--without considering, at present, the grounds for
transforming them into ethical precepts. Now, it may be thought--and
the suggestion deserves careful examination--that we may find in the
characteristics of evolution itself[191] an indication of the end
which organisms produced by and subject to evolution are naturally
fitted to attain. These characteristics must therefore be passed
under review, that their ethical bearings may be seen.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: 1. Adaptation to environment: necessary for life;]
1. The first condition of development, and even of life, is
correspondence between an organism and its environment. The waste
implied in the processes which constitute the life of an organised
body has to be supplied by nutriment got from surrounding objects.
It requires food, air, light, and heat in due proportions in order
that its various organs may do their work. When these circumstances
change, either it adapts itself to the new conditions or death
ensues. Thus "we find that every animal is limited to a certain
range of climate; every plant to certain zones of latitude and
elevation,"[192]--though nothing differs more among different species
than the extent of an organism's adaptability to varying conditions.
A definite organism and a medium suitable to it are called by Comte
the two "fundamental correlative conditions of life"; according to Mr
Spencer they constitute life. "Conformity" is absolutely necessary
between "the vital functions of any organism and the conditions in
which it is placed." In this conformity there are varying degrees,
and "the completeness of the life will be proportionate to the
completeness of the correspondence."[193] Even when life is not
altogether extinguished, it is impeded by imperfect adaptation.
Where external circumstances make the attainment of nourishment
difficult and precarious, life is shortened in extent, and, within
its limits, more occupied with simply maintaining its necessary
functions--less full, varied, and active. The same holds good whether
the external circumstances are natural or social,--applies equally
to those whose energies are exhausted in the production of a bare
livelihood from a niggard soil and unpropitious climate, and to
those who, under changed conditions, feel the hardship of adapting
themselves to a new social medium.
[Sidenote: spoken of as the ethical end;]
[Sidenote: defines the notion of self-preservation.]
Shall we say, then, that the end of human conduct is adaptation
to environment? This seems to be the position taken up by some
evolutionists. In the language of von Baer,[194] "the end of ends
is always that the organic body be adapted to the conditions of the
earth, its elements and means of nutriment;" and Mr Spencer holds
"that all evil results from the non-adaptation of constitution to
condition."[195] The hedonism which Mr Spencer definitely accepts
as his ethical principle prevents him, indeed, from fully adopting
the theory of human action which von Baer seems to regard as the
result of the doctrine of evolution. Yet complete adaptation of
constitution to condition is held by him to be characteristic of that
perfect form of life to which evolution tends, and the laws of which
are to be our guides in our present imperfect social condition. In
working out his theory of ethics, he describes acts as "good or bad
according as they are well or ill adjusted to ends," identifying
the good with "the conduct furthering self-preservation," and the
bad with "the conduct tending to self-destruction."[196] The notion
of self-preservation thus introduced is naturally suggested as the
end subserved by the activity of an organism being adjusted to
surrounding conditions. Self-preservation, therefore, rather than
adaptation to environment, will be regarded as the end, with which
adaptation will be connected as the essential means.
This notion of self-preservation has played a remarkable part in
ethical and psychological discussion since the time of the Stoics.
It withdraws attention from the relative and transient feeling of
pleasure to the permanence of the living being. Thus, with the
Stoics, the notion of self-preservation was accompanied by an
ethics hostile to indulgence in pleasure; while, on the other hand,
in Spinoza and in Hobbes, pleasure was recognised as the natural
consequence of self-preserving acts--the former defining it as
a transition from less to greater perfection, the latter as the
sense of what helps the vital functions. The theory of evolution
has, of course, not only its distinctive contribution to make to
the connection between self-preservation and pleasure--a subject
already referred to,--but also shows how an increasing harmony has
been produced between acts which tend to self-preservation and
those which tend to social-preservation. With Mr Spencer these two
points are united. His doctrine that the "conduct which furthers
race-maintenance evolves hand-in-hand with the conduct which
furthers self-maintenance"[197] is preliminary to the establishment
of the proposition that the highest life is one in which egoistic
and "altruistic" acts harmonise with one another and with external
conditions: "the life called moral is one in which this moving
equilibrium reaches completeness or approaches most nearly to
completeness."[198]
[Sidenote: Self-preservation and social-preservation.]
As has been already pointed out,[199] it is not the case, in
the present state of human life, that egoistic and altruistic
tendencies, even when properly understood, always lead to the
same course of conduct; and even the theory of evolution does not
do away with the necessity for a "compromise" between them. But,
even had the theory of evolution overcome the opposition between
the individual and social standpoints, much would still remain to
be done for the purpose of constructing a system of ethics, or
determining the ethical end. It seems better, therefore, to pass
over at present the conflict of competing interests. According to
Pascal, "the entire succession of men, the whole course of ages,
is to be regarded as one man always living and always learning."
And this is a suggestion which the theory of evolution only states
more definitely, though it cannot completely vindicate it. On this
supposition, self-preservation _is_ social-preservation, and the
possibly divergent interests of the individual and the whole are left
out of account. The end for the race then is, according to the theory
most explicitly stated by von Baer, a state of "moving equilibrium":
and to this state of affairs we are at least, Mr Spencer holds,
indubitably tending. In the final stage of human development, man
will be perfectly adapted to the conditions of his environment, so
that, to each change without, there will be an answering organic
change. The ideal which seems to be held up to us is that of a time
in which there will be no more irksome fretting in the machinery
of life, and circumstances will never be unpropitious, because the
organism will never be wanting in correspondence with them.
[Sidenote: (_a_) As the end for present conduct: opposed to progress;]
If this adaptation be adopted as the practical end for conduct
under present conditions, and not merely as describing a far-off
ideal to which we are supposed to be tending, man may continue to
manifest a law of progress, but its initiation will be from external
conditions. If "adaptation to environment" is consistently made the
end, activity will have to be restricted to suiting one's powers
to an external order of nature, and desire will have to be curbed
when it does not bring the means of satisfaction along with it.
"Bene latere" will again be an equivalent for "bene vivere," and
happiness will have to be sought in withdrawal from the distractions
of political life, and in the restriction of desire. It is strange
to see the theory which is supposed to be based upon and to account
for progress, returning in this way to an ideal similar to that in
which the post-Aristotelian schools took refuge amid the decline of
political and intellectual life in Greece. The end which Stoic and
Epicurean alike sought in complete emancipation from the conditions
of the external world,[200] is now, in more scientific phrase, made
to consist in complete harmony with these conditions. But, in their
practical results, the two theories would seem scarcely to differ. It
is not astonishing, therefore, if this gospel of renunciation finds
little favour among practical men in our day. It is seen that, if a
man has not wants, he will make no efforts, and that, if he make no
efforts, his condition can never be bettered. Thus social reformers
have often found that the classes they have tried to elevate did not
feel the evil of their lot as their benefactors saw it, and they have
had to create wants before attempting to satisfy them.[201] And the
practical tendency finds its counterpart in speculative opinion, so
that, whereas Epicurus placed happiness in freedom from wants, modern
hedonism usually considers a man the happier the more wants he has
and is able to supply.[202]
[Sidenote: does not fully represent the theory of evolution.]
This practical tendency brings out the truth that it is not only by
the subordination of self to circumstances, and the restriction of
desire to present means of satisfaction, that the required harmony
between outer and inner relations can be brought about. The other
alternative is open: circumstances may be subordinated to self. For
this latter alternative the theory of evolution seems really to leave
room as much as for the former. It is excluded only when a one-sided
emphasis is laid on the necessity of adaptation to environment. For
evolution implies a gradually increasing heterogeneity of structure
as the prelude to perfect agreement with circumstances: "the limit
of heterogeneity towards which every aggregate progresses is the
formation of as many specialisations and combinations of parts as
there are specialised and combined forces to be met."[203] The end
of evolution is a correspondence between inner and outer which is
not produced by the easy method of both being very simple, but
which is consistent with, and indeed requires, the complexity and
heterogeneity produced in both by constant interaction.[204] The
greater this complexity, the more filled with sensation, emotion, and
thought life is, the greater is what Mr Spencer calls its "breadth."
But, if "adaptation" is still regarded as expressing the end, then,
the more perfect this adaptation is, the less room seems left for
progress, and the end of human conduct is placed in a state of moving
equilibrium in which action takes place without a jar and without
disturbing the play of external conditions.[205]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: (_b_) As describing the ultimate condition of life,]
This end of "adaptation" is looked upon by Mr Spencer not as
representing the conduct prescribed by morality in present
circumstances, but as describing the ultimate condition of human
life. As such, it is the foundation of his Absolute Ethics--that
"final permanent code" which "alone admits of being definitely
formulated, and so constituting ethics as a science in contrast with
empirical ethics."[206] The "philosophical moralist," he tells us,
"treats solely of the _straight_ man. He determines the properties of
the straight man; describes how the straight man comports himself;
shows in what relationship he stands to other straight men; shows
how a community of straight men is constituted. Any deviation
from strict rectitude he is obliged wholly to ignore. It cannot be
admitted into his premisses without vitiating all his conclusions.
A problem in which a _crooked_ man forms one of the elements is
insoluble by him."[207]
[Sidenote: complete correspondence with environment.]
[Sidenote: Resultant absolute code of ethics]
[Sidenote: (α) lays down abstract principles for relation of
individual to society;]
[Sidenote: (β) farther only defines end of conduct as adaptation;]
How, then, are we to conceive the nature or conduct of the "straight
man"? To begin with, it is made clear that his dealings are only with
straight men; for there are no "crooked men" in the ideal community.
"The coexistence of a perfect man and an imperfect society is
impossible; and could the two coexist the resulting conduct would not
furnish the ethical standard sought."[208] "The ultimate man is one
in whom this process [of adaptation to the social state] has gone so
far as to produce a correspondence between all the promptings of his
nature and all the requirements of his life as carried on in society.
If so, it is a necessary implication that there exists an ideal code
of conduct formulating the behaviour of the completely-adapted man in
the completely-evolved society." This is the code of Absolute Ethics,
whose injunctions alone are "absolutely right," and which, "as a
system of ideal conduct, is to serve as a standard for our guidance
in solving, as well as we can, the problems of real conduct."[209]
At the outset, we were required to "interpret the more developed
by the less developed;" [210] the conclusion sets forth that the
less developed is to be guided by the more developed, the real by
the ideal. Now, ethics "includes all conduct which furthers or
hinders, in either direct or indirect ways, the welfare of self
or others."[211] Thus Absolute Ethics, like Relative Ethics, has
two divisions, personal and social. As to the latter, Mr Spencer
formulates certain principles of justice, negative beneficence, and
positive beneficence,[212] which describe the harmonious co-operation
of ideal men in the ideal state. These principles may perhaps be
capable of a modified application to the present state of society,
in which there is a conflict of interests: although Mr Spencer's
representation of them--which is still, however, incomplete--suggests
the belief that they are not so much guides which the ideal gives to
the real, as suggestions for the construction of a Utopia gathered
from the requirements of present social life. But, supposing the
"harmonious co-operation" of individuals to be thus provided for,
what is the personal end? and what, it might be added, is the social
end, if society has any further function than regulating the relation
of its units to one another? Absolute ethics does not seem to be able
to give much guidance here. "A code of perfect personal conduct,"
we are told, "can never be made definite."[213] There are various
types of activities, all of which may belong to lives "complete
after their kinds." But yet "perfection of individual life" does
imply "certain modes of action which are approximately alike in all
cases, and which, therefore, become part of the subject-matter of
ethics." We cannot lay down "precise rules for private conduct,"
but only "general requirements." And these are: to maintain the
balance between waste and nutrition, to observe a relation between
activity and rest, to marry and have children.[214] This is "how the
straight man comports himself." Apart, therefore, from the suggestion
thrown out that a man's function may be the realisation of a type of
activity complete after its kind--a suggestion to be considered in
the sequel--all that we can say of the "completely-adapted man" would
seem to be that he will be adapted to his circumstances.
[Sidenote: (γ) cannot be shown to lead to happiness.]
We have a right to demur if the pleasures of the final condition of
equilibrium be held up to our imagination as a reason for aiming at
it. That it is "the establishment of the greatest perfection and
most complete happiness,"[215] seems an unwarrantable assumption.
Yet it is through this assumption that an apparent harmony between
Mr Spencer's hedonistic ethics and his view of the tendency of
evolution is brought about. It is not at all certain that the result
of perfectly adapted function is great increase of pleasure. It
is true that all the pains of disharmony between inner desire or
feeling and outer circumstances would, in such a case, disappear;
but with them also there would be lost the varied pleasures of
pursuit and successful struggle. It cannot even be assumed that
other pleasures would continue as intense as before. For, as acts
are performed more easily, and thus with less conscious volition,
they gradually pass into the background of consciousness, or out of
consciousness altogether; and the pleasure accompanying them fades
gradually away as they cease to occupy the attention. "Where action
is perfectly automatic, feeling does not exist."[216] The so-called
passive pleasures might still remain. But the fact of effort being
no longer necessary for the adjustment of inner to outer relations
might have the effect of making the "moving equilibrium" still called
"life" automatic in every detail. Indeed, if the suggestions of the
'First Principles' are to be carried out, it would seem that the
moving equilibrium is "a transitional state on the way to complete
equilibrium,"[217] which is another name for death.[218] So far,
therefore, from heightened pleasure being the result of completely
perfect adjustment of inner to outer relations, this adjustment would
seem to reach its natural goal in unconsciousness--a conclusion which
may commend itself to those of Mr Spencer's disciples who take a less
optimist view of life than their master.
It seems evident, therefore, that to take adaptation to environment,
or self-preservation as interpreted by adaptation, as the end of
conduct, is to adopt an end which cannot be shown to be desirable
on the ground of yielding a maximum of happiness or pleasure. And
it is almost with a feeling of relief that one finds Mr Spencer's
confidence in the tendency of evolution so far shaken as to admit
of his saying that "however near to completeness the adaptation
of human nature to the conditions of existence at large, physical
and social, may become, it can never reach completeness."[219]
"Adaptation to environment" must, at any rate, be kept quite distinct
from any theory of ethics which takes pleasure as the end of life;
and it cannot consistently determine any result as of ethical value
on account of its pleasurable consequences. The goal it sets before
us, and in which human progress ends, is conformity with an external
order. The modification of these external conditions by human
effort is to be justified ethically by the opportunity it gives for
bringing about a fuller agreement between the individual or race and
its environment. The result is a stationary state of human conduct,
corresponding with, or a part of, that general "equilibration" to
which, according to Mr Spencer, all evolution tends. But this theory,
which places the goal of conduct in what seems to be the actual
tendency of evolution, gains no real support from this apparent
harmony of ethics with general philosophy. It may be granted that
the evidence of physical laws goes to show that the evolution of
the solar, or even stellar, system is towards a condition in which
the "moving equilibrium" will at last pass into a form in which
there is no further sensible motion, and the concentration of matter
is complete. But to infer from this that the theory which places
the end of conduct in a similar equilibrium shows the harmony of
morality with the tendency of existence in general, would really
involve a confusion of the two different meanings of "end." The end
or termination of all things may be equilibrium, motionlessness, or
dissolution, but this is no reason why the end or aim of conduct
should be a similar equilibrium.
Indeed, to say that we ought to promote the end of evolution, and
that this end is annihilation, is inconsistent with the postulate
always implied by the ethics of evolution--the postulate that
conduct should promote evolution because life is desirable,[220] and
increase of life comes with the progress of evolution. Nor is it of
any assistance to reply to this by saying that the dissolution in
which evolution ends may be only the prelude to another process of
evolution in which life will gradually progress till it again reaches
equilibrium. For, in the first place, this is only a problematical
suggestion--is not, to speak in Mr Spencer's language, "demonstrable
_à priori_ by deduction from the persistence of force," as the
tendency of present evolution to equilibrium is held to be; and
secondly, the new process, if it were to come about, would have
to begin again the slow ascent from the lowest rung of the ladder
of existence: so that, in aiding evolution towards the goal of
equilibrium, we should be only guiding it to the old starting-point
which has now, after many a painful struggle, been left far behind.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: (_c_) Insufficiency of adaptation as evolutionist end:]
[Sidenote: tendency to variation in all organisms,]
But further, it would seem that the theory of evolution itself is not
fairly represented by a view which emphasises the fact of adaptation
to environment to the exclusion of that of variation. The latter is
as necessary to progressive development as the former. Adaptation
to environment might seem to be most nearly complete when organism
and environment were both so simple as to be hardly separate. The
polype, which is scarcely different from the sea-water it inhabits,
might seem by correspondence with its medium to be near the maximum
of adaptation, though at the very beginning of life. It may be solely
because the environment is subject to numerous changes that the
organism of simple structure cannot maintain life. But it is only
through its own inherent power of variation that progress in organic
life is possible. Perfect correspondence with the environment was
not reached by simple organisms, not only on account of the want of
uniformity in their surroundings, but also because there is in every
organism a tendency to variation through which the modifications are
produced which natural selection takes hold of. Did organisms not
tend to vary in function and structure, no progressive modification
would be possible. Those fittest to live would be selected once for
all, and all but those adapted to the environment weeded out.
It is not necessary for our present purpose to have any definite
theory of the obscure laws by which this variability is
governed.[221] It is enough that natural selection requires the
striking out of new modifications as well as the transmission of
those already produced.[222] It may be the fact that variation is,
in the last resort, due to changes in surrounding circumstances,
to the unequal incidence of external forces upon a finite
aggregate.[223] But, with living bodies as now constituted, it has,
at any rate as proximate cause, a twofold source. It may be due to
the direct effect of external forces, or it may be caused by the
energy stored up in the organism in growth.[224]
[Sidenote: consciously directed in man.]
In man the outgo of this force is conscious; and, by means of his
conscious or intelligent volition, governed by interests of various
kinds, he can anticipate and modify the action of natural selection.
The law that the fittest organism survives may perhaps work in man
as in the lower animals, if only we give a wide enough meaning to
"fittest," so as to admit even of the weak being made fit through the
sympathy and help of the strong. Natural selection becomes dependent
upon variations of a kind different from those in the merely animal
world, so that its practical effect may be in some cases apparently
reversed. We thus see how it is that even Darwin holds that in
moralised societies "natural selection apparently effects but
little,"[225] at the same time that we may not be inclined to deny
the truth of Schäffle's contention[226] that, although circumstances
differ, the law of action remains the same. Schäffle points out how,
as we rise in the scale of life, especially as it is manifested in
human society, the organisation becomes more delicate, and other than
merely natural facts have to be taken account of, so that the fittest
to live in the new social and intellectual environment is no longer
the man of greatest physical strength and skill.
The theory of natural selection as applied to the ordinary spheres
of plant and animal life, may perhaps, for some purposes, neglect
consideration of the fact that it presupposes a tendency to variation
in the organisms whose growth it describes. But, when the variation
in the behaviour of the organism becomes conscious and designed,
there is thereby produced a preliminary indication or determination
of the lines on which natural selection is to work. And, before the
theory of evolution can give a full account of the ethical in man, it
must distinguish consciously-determined from merely natural action,
and give an analysis of what is implied in the former. We must bear
in mind that it may be the case that the ground and possibility of
progress and of the efficiency of ideal ends in human conduct--which
"adaptation to environment" has been unable logically to explain or
leave room for--are to be found in this differentiating fact of
conscious activity. But we must first of all see whether, from the
empirical characteristics of variation, we can extract an ethical end
or any guide for conduct.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: 2. End suggested by this tendency to variation]
[Sidenote: (_a_) prescribes self-development rather than
self-preservation,]
2. "The lower animals," says a writer on biology, "are just as well
organised for the purposes of their life as the higher are for
theirs. The tape-worm is relatively quite as perfect as the man,
and distinguished from him by many superior capabilities."[227] It
is incorrect to look upon the evolution of animal life as working
upon one line, so that the different kinds of living beings can be
arranged, as it were, in an order of merit, in which the organisation
of the higher animal plainly excels that of the lower. The conditions
of life are manifold and various enough to permit of the existence of
many species equally perfect in relation to their environments. The
fact that we are still able to speak of one species or one animal as
higher than another, is not owing to the one being better adapted to
its environment than the other, but is supposed rather to be due to
the higher forms having "their organs more distinctly specialised for
different functions."[228] Even Mr Spencer, for whom equilibrium is
the goal of life, implicitly admits that "adaptation" alone is not
the end of human action, by his doctrine that the degree of evolution
may be measured by the complexity of the adjustments it effects
between organism and environment. The end, therefore, it may be
said, is no longer the mere "self-preservation" found in adaptation
to environment, but the "self-development" which implies temporary
disharmony between organism and surroundings.
For "self-preservation" and "self-development," though frequently
spoken of as identical, are really distinct and often opposed
notions--the former denoting a tendency to persist in one's present
state of being, while the latter implies more or less change. It may
be held, however, that for an organism such as man to persist in
his state of being, implies modification of his faculties, and that
this modification involves development. For any organism to exist
apart from change is, of course, impossible. Life is only known to
us as a series of changes. But that change does not necessarily mean
development or "change to a higher condition." Degradation is as
well known a fact as development; and between the two, there is room
for a state of existence of which it is difficult to say whether it
improves or deteriorates. And whatever may be intended by the phrase,
"self-preservation" points to a state of this kind rather than to an
improving condition. The notion of "self-development" has therefore
a richer content than that of "self-preservation"; but just on this
account it cannot be explained by a reference to the nature of things
as they are.
[Sidenote: thus taking account of variability]
It is true that self-development can only go on by a continuous
process of adjustment; but it is also necessary for it that this
tendency to adaptation should be continually hindered from becoming
complete or lapsing into equilibrium. It is here that the function
of variation comes in. On the one side there is this tendency to
vary after a fashion often without any apparent regard to external
conditions; on the other side, there is the action of the external
conditions selecting and favouring those variations which bring the
organism into closer correspondence with them. The wide range over
which the theory of natural selection applies is due to the fact
that the environment is never uniform and never constant, so that
modifications on the part of the organism have a chance of suiting
its varied and changing character. Its changes, moreover, are often
the result not so much of any absolute alteration in external
circumstances, as of a new relation between them and living beings
having been brought about. For the enormous reproductive faculty
of most organisms makes them multiply so rapidly as to press ever
more and more closely against the limit of subsistence, and thus to
produce competition for the means of living. Hence the fresh lines
of development originated by each organism have to be tested by
their correspondence with a constantly changing medium. The altered
circumstances give the modifications which organisms are for ever
striking out an opportunity of perpetuating themselves.
[Sidenote: which complicates the tendency to correspondence with
environment,]
By each new variation the existing relation between organism and
environment is disturbed. The variation may, however, prove its
utility at once by a more exact correspondence than before with
the requirements of external conditions. But, in what are called
the higher grades of life, variations from the type are sometimes
not immediately useful, although they may ultimately become
most advantageous.[229] Were it not for the remarkable power of
persistence possessed by the higher animals, the modified organism
would be unable to hold its own. The great majority of such eccentric
or extraordinary variations do, as a matter of fact, soon disappear,
because unable to prove their utility. But others of them, either by
the power they give the organism to mould circumstances to itself,
or by their appropriateness to the greater complexity which comes
with the increased number of living organisms, and the more delicate
readjustment it requires, prove themselves to be fitter to live than
if no variation had taken place and the preceding state of relative
equilibrium had been maintained. The higher adjustment of life to
its surroundings, which marks each stage of advancing evolution, had
its beginning in the rupture of the original simpler harmony that
previously existed.
[Sidenote: especially in human conduct.]
If we compare human conduct with that of animals lower in the organic
scale, it becomes evident that there is a broad difference between
the two in this, that actions in the former are purposed, performed
with a definite end in view; whereas, in the latter, they seem to be
the blind result of impulse, and there are slight, if any, traces of
purpose. In activity of the latter kind, natural selection works in
the ordinary way by choosing for survival the animals which behave so
as best to suit their environment. But actions done with a view to an
end may anticipate the verdict of this natural law. The agent may see
that conduct of a particular kind would conduce to the promotion of
life, while conduct of a different kind would render him less fit to
live; and, as a consequence, the former action may be chosen. In this
way development may be anticipated, and the present order of affairs
may be disturbed, more or less forcibly, in order to bring about a
foreseen better state of things.
We are thus able to see more clearly how it is that the theory of
evolution may be thought to give rise to two different ethical ends.
The first of these is the theory already criticised, "adaptation to
environment," which corresponds to the notion of self-preservation.
But this end, as we have seen, only takes one side of the theory of
evolution into consideration--neglects the tendency to variation
which evolution postulates, and which, in the higher organisms,
becomes purposed. The other end which seems to be suggested by the
theory of evolution takes account of this tendency to variation, and
may be said to correspond to the notion of self-development; but
this end it is harder to define. Adaptation we can easily understand
by a reference to the environment to which life is to be adapted.
This involves a knowledge of the conditions of the environment, but
nothing more. Development can be measured by no such standard. On
the one hand it implies an independent, or relatively independent,
tendency to variation. On the other hand, however, it is necessary
that the disharmony with environment, in which this tendency to
variation may begin, should not be excessive and should not be
permanent; for without a certain amount of adaptation to environment
no organism can live. The extent of initial disharmony which is
possible, or is useful, varies according to the versatility of the
faculties of each individual organism, and to its place in the
scale of being; but throughout all existence it is true that want
of adaptation beyond a certain varying degree is fatal: "a mode of
action entirely alien to the prevailing modes of action, cannot
be successfully persisted in--must eventuate in death of self, or
posterity, or both."[230]
[Sidenote: (_b_) Standard for measuring development]
By what standard, then, can we measure development? We have
already seen, from the "formula," as it is called, or definition,
of evolution, that it implies an advance to a state of increased
coherence, definiteness, and heterogeneity, by the double process
of differentiation of parts, and integration of these parts into a
whole by the formation of definite relations to one another. The
notions of coherence amongst parts and of increased definiteness of
function and structure are easily understood. But the heterogeneity
postulated is a more complex notion,--has, in the first place, a
double reference, "is at the same time a differentiation of the parts
from each other and a differentiation of the consolidated whole from
the environment;"[231] and secondly, is manifested in living beings
in increased complexity of every kind--of structure, form, chemical
composition, specific gravity, temperature, and self-mobility.[232]
Can we then apply this at once to ethics, and say that the most
developed--that is, the most moral--conduct is that which is most
definite, coherent, and heterogeneous? This doctrine has at least the
merit of not leaving out of sight so fundamental a characteristic
of evolution as the tendency to variation; and, without being
consistently held to, it is the burden of much of Mr Spencer's 'Data
of Ethics,' where it is illustrated and defended with great ingenuity.
[Sidenote: found in degree of complexity of act and motive.]
That moral conduct is distinguished by definiteness and
coherence--that it works towards a determinate end, and that its
various actions are in agreement with one another and parts of
a whole--may be admitted. But this is at most a merely formal
description of what is meant by morality in conduct. To say that
conduct must be a coherent whole, and must seek a determinate end
by appropriate means, leaves unsettled the question as to what this
end should be, or what means are best fitted to attain it. But, when
we go on to say that as conduct is more varied in act,[233] more
heterogeneous in motive,[234] it is higher in the moral scale,
we seem to have got hold of something which may be a guide for
determining the ethical end. The mark of what is higher in evolution,
and consequently in morality, will be greater heterogeneity or
complexity.[235]
[Sidenote: Difficulties of the theory:]
This conclusion follows from an attempt not merely to treat "moral
phenomena as phenomena of evolution," but also to find the "ultimate
interpretations" of ethics "only in those fundamental truths which
are common to all" the sciences, physical, biological, psychological,
sociological.[236] Now the fundamental truths which these sciences
have in common are those only which are most abstract. But as we
pass from mere relations between matter and motion to life, and
from life to self-consciousness, we have something different from
these fundamental truths with the addition of certain others not
fundamental: we find that things are not merely more complex; but
are changed in aspect and nature. Even though it be true that the
new phenomena may still admit of analysis into the old simpler
terms, and that life, mind, and society may be interpreted as
redistributions of matter and motion,[237] it must yet at least be
admitted that the change passed through is one similar to those which
Mill compared to chemical composition: the new compound differs
fundamentally in mode of action from the elements out of which it was
formed. Now, in saying that the most complex adjustments of acts to
ends are the highest kinds of conduct, and that we should be guided
by the more complex in preference to simpler motives, this obvious
difficulty is passed over. It is true that Mr Spencer, in chapters
rich in suggestion, and filled with skilfully chosen illustrations,
has passed in review the various aspects of conduct according as we
look at it from the point of view of the physical environment, of
life, of mind, or of society. But when these different aspects are
brought together and compared, it becomes clear that the attempt to
judge conduct by reference to the "fundamental truth" that evolution
implies an advance towards greater complexity, must necessarily end
in failure.[238]
[Sidenote: (α) antinomy produced by it between the social and
individual ends;]
In the first place, there is a notable discrepancy between the
biological and the sociological aspect. For the complete development
of the individual life implies that every function should be
fulfilled, and that its fulfilment should interfere with the
performance of no other function. "The performance of every function
is, in a sense, a moral obligation." "The ideally moral man ... is
one in whom the functions of all kinds are duly fulfilled,"--that is
to say, "discharged in degrees duly adjusted to the conditions of
existence."[239] A fully evolved life is marked by multiplicity and
complexity of function. And, if from the individual we pass to the
social organism, we find that the same truth holds. The state, or
organised body of individuals, has many functions to perform; but it
can only perform them in the most efficient way through the functions
of its individual members being specialised. From the social point
of view, therefore, the greatest possible division of labour is a
mark of the most evolved and perfect community. And this division
of labour implies that each individual, instead of performing
every function of which he is capable, should be made to restrict
himself to that at which he is best, so that the community may be
the gainer from the time and exertion that are saved, and the skill
that is produced, by the most economic expenditure of individual
talent. Thus social perfection appears to imply a condition of
things inconsistent with that development of one's whole nature
which, from the biological point of view, has just been defined as a
characteristic of the ideally moral man. It seems, indeed, inevitable
that any such abstract preliminary notion of development as that
which would test it by increase of complexity must fail in such a
case as this where there is no question between the competing claims
of two phenomena on the same level, but where harmony is wanted
between the different aspects the same phenomena present when looked
at from the point of view of the individual and from the point of
view of the whole.
[Sidenote: (β) its psychological aspect]
[Sidenote: confounds complexity of structure with indirectness of
origin,]
There is still greater difficulty in applying this criterion, when
we come to the psychological aspect of morality--the aspect most
prominent in modern philosophy from the revival of independent
ethical speculation till the time of Kant. According to Mr Spencer,
"the acts characterised by the more complex motives and the more
involved thoughts, have all along been of higher authority for
guidance."[240] But the later or more advanced in mental evolution
is not always more complex in structure; for it is a characteristic
of mental development that the processes by which a result has
been arrived at gradually disappear on account of the diminished
attention they receive, so that there remains what is, so far as
psychical structure is concerned, a simple mental state. Complexity
of structure and indirectness of origin are thus really two different
characteristics of states of mind, which frequently go together, but
frequently part company.[241] When Mr Spencer, accordingly, goes on
to say[242] that "for the better preservation of life the primitive
simple presentative feelings must be controlled by the later-evolved
compound and representative feelings," he is really passing to a
different standard without giving up the former. The sympathy with
injured Zulus or Afghans which would be approved by Mr Spencer[243]
may be a more indirect, representative, or re-representative feeling,
than the sentiments which led to British invasion, and, as such, may
be more to be commended. But it would be rash to say that sympathy
with the "British interests" supposed to be at stake--interests of
commerce, and of the balance of political power, as well as those
arising from the subtle effect of national prestige--is less complex
than the feeling of sympathy with a people dispossessed of its
territory. The latter feeling may be more indirect or representative,
as implying an imaginative appropriation of the circumstances of
another community; but, so far as structure is concerned, it is
composed of far fewer and simpler component elements than the feeling
for British interests.
[Sidenote: neither of which can serve as an ethical standard.]
Nor, on the other hand, can we allow ourselves to take refuge in the
conclusion that, if the more complex emotion cannot be held to be
better morally, then that which is later in evolution may at least
be regarded as of higher authority than the earlier evolved feeling.
According to Mr Spencer, the man who obtains by fraud the money to
support his family is to be condemned, because, although we admit the
claim his family have upon him, "we regard as of superior authority
the feelings which respond to men's proprietary claims--feelings
which are re-representative in a higher degree and refer to more
remote diffused consequences."[244] But were this the ground of
distinction, we ought also to regard the feelings prompting a man
to distribute his fortune in any foolish enterprise "as of superior
authority" to those which prompt him to support his family, if only
the former are "re-representative in a higher degree," and their
consequences more "remote" and "diffused." Many of the greatest
evils which infect social life and warp the moral feelings of
men, are evils which are only possible as the result of a highly
advanced civilisation and a refined and delicate organisation of
the mind. The factitious sentiments raised by a subtle casuistry
with the effect of confusing the ordinary distinctions of right and
wrong are, in almost all cases, more indirect and re-representative
than the feelings in harmony with the moral consciousness of the
community which they set aside in the individual conscience. So
obvious, indeed, are objections of this kind--objections, that is
to say, taken from the impossibility of so applying the criterion
as to construct a workable system of morals--that Mr Spencer
virtually relinquishes his own theory, talking of it as true only
"on the average,"[245] and even allowing that it is in some cases
suicidal.[246]
As it cannot be held that the more complex in evolution is of greater
authority than the less complex, nor that the later in evolution has
such authority over the earlier, we must admit that the so-called
"fundamental characteristics" of evolution, which find a place in
its definition or "formula," are unable to determine its value in an
ethical regard. The richness of life, physical, intellectual, and
social, has indeed been produced only as the result of a long course
of development, and by the assimilation of many various elements
into a complex organisation; but its value cannot be measured either
by the test of mechanical complexity, or by the length of time it
has taken to evolve. We must therefore seek some other method of
giving a meaning to evolution in the region of moral values; and we
find Mr Spencer himself really falling back in his discussion on
the more general answer to our question, that the end of evolution
is life: "evolution becomes the highest possible when the conduct
simultaneously achieves the greatest totality of life in self,
offspring, and fellow-men."[247] Since it appears, then, that the
characteristic of complexity or variety is as unsatisfactory a
criterion of morality, as the notion of "adaptation to environment"
was found to be, we must ask for some further interpretation of the
notion of "development" or "increase of life" when regarded as the
end of conduct.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: 3. Further attempt to define development or increase of
life as the end.]
[Sidenote: Biological definition of life insufficient.]
3. The ethics of evolution--in whatever form we have as yet found
it--has always proceeded on the assumption that life is desirable,
and that it has a value which makes its pursuit and promotion a
reasonable moral end. How this fundamental ethical assumption[248]
is to be justified, I do not at present inquire. But the question
must now be faced--What is meant by "life" when we say that
its "increase" or "development" is the moral end, and speak of
its "greatest totality" in a way that implies that it admits of
quantitative measurement? The biological definition of life is
itself matter of dispute. But, even were such a definition as that
proposed by Mr Spencer agreed to, it would be insufficient to provide
a standard for human conduct. The very generality which may make it
fit to stand as a definition, or at least abstract description, of
life, renders it at the same time incapable of serving as a criterion
by which the various modes of the manifestation of life may be
judged. One point, however, generally emphasised by the theory of
evolution, may be admitted. The life which human conduct "ought" to
increase is not merely that of one individual man, but the whole
life of the community--"self, offspring, and fellow-men"--with which
the individual life is bound up. Evolution has shown how the growth
of the individual has been so dependent upon that of the whole body
of society that it is impossible to separate their interests. At
the same time, no complete identity has been brought about, and it
remains one of the greatest difficulties of any empirical theory to
harmonise their competing claims. For argument's sake, however, and
to admit of the quality of the end being investigated apart from
considerations as to the method of distribution, the question may be
discussed as if natural selection had produced complete solidarity
between the life of the individual and that of the race.
What criterion have we, then, of the development of human nature or
life? The answer at once suggests itself that the higher evolution
of life can be accurately measured by the amount of pleasure got
by living beings. But this view has been examined in the preceding
chapter, and found to be unsupported by sufficient evidence; so that
we are driven to seek for some non-hedonistic criterion that will
give meaning to the phrase "development" or "increase of life," when
prescribed as the ethical end.
[Sidenote: Health as the end either used to interpret pleasure,]
Nor is the matter made any clearer by saying that the "health" of
society is the end we ought to promote.[249] This has been put
forward as an interpretation of the hedonistic principle, which
brings that principle into accord with the theory of evolution.
As such, however, it seems open to fatal objections. Given as
an explanation of "pleasure," it falls back upon the notion of
"life"; for health can only be defined as that which conduces to
continued and energetic life. Further than this, there is a special
difficulty in adopting health as the proximate end where pleasure
is the ultimate end. Even if we could assert that health always
leads to pleasure, it is not evident that it is better known, or
more easily made the end, than pleasure. For of present pleasure
we have a standard in our own consciousness from which there is no
appeal. And, although the value of a series of pleasures is much
harder to estimate, there is also no slight difficulty in saying
what will promote the efficiency or health of an organism. Besides,
the question arises whether health really corresponds with pleasure;
and this is, in another form, the question which has been already
answered in the negative,--whether life can be measured by pleasure.
[Sidenote: or falls back on the notion of life.]
On the other hand, if "health" is to be taken not as an explanation
of or means to pleasure, but as a substitute for the notion of
"life," then we hardly get beyond our original terms. "Health" must
be interpreted simply as that which leads to strong and continued
life: so that the only information to be got from the new term is
that the life we are to promote must be vigorous and long; and this
was already implied in saying that it is the increase or development
of life that is the end. It will not do to identify the notion
with the mere balance of physiological functions which, in common
language, appropriates to itself the term "health." We must include
the health of the soul as well as the health of the body, and the
health of society as well as the health of the soul. The balance of
mental and social, as well as of physiological, functions, is implied
in the complex life of whose evolution we form a part. To say that we
are to promote this balance of various functions, is to say nothing
more than that we are to promote the life into which physical and
mental and social factors enter. The attempt to arrive at an end for
conduct, by consideration of the characteristics of evolution, has
been made without success. It has been found, too, that "development"
or "increase of life" does not admit of translation into the language
of hedonism: and the question thus arises, how we are to define this
end, which we are unable to interpret in terms of pleasure.
[Sidenote: Ways of determining increase of life or natural good,]
What meaning can be given to the notion "increase of life" as the
end of conduct, without interpreting life in terms of pleasure? Can
we, the question may be put, reach a "natural" good as distinct from
"sensible good" or pleasure? We must discard at the outset any such
"rational" view of nature as gave colour to the Stoic doctrine by
identifying nature with the universal reason. And we must equally
avoid the doctrine that reason regulative of conduct is manifested
in the constitution of man either in a distinct faculty, such as
"conscience," or in the due regulation of the various impulses.
Trendelenburg's teleological conception of human nature, for
instance, implies a rational element which could not be got from
the causal sequence traced by evolution.[250] For he determines the
essence of man by reference to the inner end of his constitution,
and postulates an organic unity of impulses which, in the form of
conscience, protests against self-seeking action on the part of any
single impulse. But no other hierarchy of motives can be admitted
here than that produced by the natural law of evolution; and this
law can only show how one impulse, or class of impulses, has become
more authoritative, by showing how it has become stronger or more
persistent: the other methods of evolving this authority on the
basis of naturalism, do so by means of the pleasurable or painful
consequences of motives and actions.
[Sidenote: either subjective or objective.]
There are two ways in which, on most or all ethical theories, the
attempt may be made to distinguish "good" from "bad" conduct. We
may either look to a subjective motive or impulse as giving the
means of distinction, or we may test conduct by its conformity
with an objective standard. If we like to make use of the terms
self-preservation and self-development, then these may refer either
to the subjective impulse which urges man to preserve or develop
his life, or to some objective standard for estimating actions
according as they actually tend to prolong life or enrich it. Both
these possibilities are open to the theory of evolution. Although
the subjective impulse is, of course, a property of the individual,
it may be the result of the whole course of social development, and
thus take in others as well as self in the range of its application.
It is therefore necessary to examine both methods of determination
with some care, especially as we are in no little danger of reaching
an illusory appearance of conclusiveness by allowing the subjective
standard to rest on the objective, and the objective, in turn, on the
subjective.
[Sidenote: (_a_) Subjective standard: most persistent impulses;]
To begin with the subjective side. It may be thought that we can
point to some impulse, tendency, motive, or class of motives in
the individual mind by following which the evolution of life will
be promoted, and that we are thus able to solve the question of
practical ethics, though our conception of what the evolution of life
connotes may still be in want of exact definition. As already pointed
out, such an impulse (unless it depends on an objective standard)
must carry its own authority with it by its strength or persistency.
The case would, of course, be perfectly simple, if we could assert
that the carrying out of all impulses in one's nature was to be
approved as tending to the development of life. Could this assertion
be made, there might be no difficulty in ethics, or rather, there
might be no ethics at all, because there would be no difficulty in
conduct. It is obvious, however, that the development of one natural
tendency often conflicts with that of another in the same individual,
as well as with the tendencies of other individuals. The course of
evolution has no doubt tended to modify, though it has not rooted
out, the impulses which are most prejudicial to individual and social
welfare. But the increase of wants as well as satisfactions which it
has brought about in human nature, makes it doubtful whether it has
on the whole tended to diminish the conflict of motives.
[Sidenote: implies distinction between permanent and transient self;]
Again, when it is said that a man should "be himself," or that this
is his "strongest tendency,"[251] there is an implicit reference
to a distinction between a permanent and a transient, or a better
and a worse self, and it seems to be imagined that this distinction
can be reduced to difference in degrees of strength. But evolution
has not enabled us to obviate Butler's objection to taking the
"strongest tendency"--meaning by this the tendency which is at any
time strongest--as representing "nature." For it is an undeniable
fact that the tendency which for a time is the strongest--it may even
be that which is strongest throughout an individual life--frequently
leads to a diminution of vital power on the part of the agent, as
well as to interference with the free exercise of the vital powers
of others. Some advantage is gained, perhaps, by substituting for
"strongest" the nearly equivalent phrase "most persistent" tendency.
All those impulses which have in the past served to promote life
have been chosen out and stored up as a sort of permanent basis for
the human fabric; whereas other impulses, not so advantageous in
their effects, have a less permanent influence, though they are not
less real. The more regular or persistent class of impulses may,
therefore, (the idea is) be taken as representing the course of the
evolution by which they have been produced.
[Sidenote: but includes non-moral impulses in the former,]
To a large extent this distinction of two classes of impulses is
justified. There seems no doubt that the social, and what are usually
termed moral, feelings have a tendency to return into consciousness
after any temporary depression or exclusion, which is not shared
by some of the feelings with which they most commonly conflict.
Other impulses, not usually classed as moral, no doubt share this
characteristic of persistency or recurrence. "The wish for another
man's property," says Darwin, "is as persistent a desire as any that
can be named." The selfish feelings have obviously this persistent
character. But an evolutionist may perhaps maintain that it is one
of the defects of ordinary moral opinion that it depreciates the
necessity and value for life of the selfish feelings, just because
they are so strong as to stand in need of no encouragement. And it
is not necessary that the evolutionist morality should agree at all
points with ordinary moral opinion or moral intuition. It recognises,
or ought to recognise the agency of immoral as well as moral forces,
admitting that it is by the action of both of these that man as he is
at present has been produced, although the principle of the survival
of the fittest has tended, though by no means uniformly, towards the
elimination of the immoral factor. We may admit, therefore, that
there is a pressure on the will of the average individual towards
certain kinds of conduct rather than others, or, put more precisely,
that while all acts are performed in consequence of pressure on the
will, the pressure towards certain kinds of acts is a permanent force
which, although overcome for the time, always tends to reassert
itself, while the tendency towards other acts inconsistent with these
is more intermittent and variable, and does not reassert itself
in the same way. But this subjective experience is so limited in
accuracy and extent as to be an unfit test of morality.
[Sidenote: is restricted to previous habits of acting,]
[Sidenote: and cannot define nature of morality.]
In the first place, selfish conduct is as necessary for the
preservation and development of man as "altruistic" conduct, and must
therefore have given rise to an equally great and persistent pressure
on the will: so that the subjective criterion of persistency leaves
untouched what is often regarded as the most difficult question of
morals, the balance of social and individual claims. In the second
place, this subjective tendency is only a recurrence of antecedent
advantageous characteristics, and does not lead us beyond the _status
quo_, so that, if any progress is to be made in the future, it will
be only possible through the pressure of new external conditions: no
function is left for any ethical ideal which points beyond past and
present habits of action. In the third place, subjective tendency
only enables us to say generally that some acts or tendencies are
more persistent than others, without giving any further description
of what sort of acts these are. Were these tendencies or impulses a
perfect guide to conduct, this defect would be of little practical
consequence. It would prevent our having a definite ethical theory
only in circumstances in which no ethical theory would be likely
to be asked for. But the line between the more and less persistent
motives is a narrow and shifting one. The impulses which are the
residua of advantageous ancestral actions are counteracted by other
impulses, residua of actions which would not be counted as moral,
though we inherit tendencies to them because they formed a real
part of our ancestral activity. We therefore stand in need of some
characteristic by which to distinguish the one class of tendencies
from the other. And as the only subjective characteristic is that of
strength or persistency, and this has been found insufficient, an
objective standard is shown to be necessary.
[Sidenote: Thus subjective standard acknowledged to depend on]
The impossibility of the subjective test doing duty alone without
support from some objective criterion, is practically acknowledged by
the writer who has discussed this part of the subject with greater
penetration than any other investigator on the same lines. "The
average man," it is said, "feels the pressure upon his own individual
will of all the unknown natural sequence of motive which caused his
ancestors to do on the whole more often the right thing than the
wrong"[252]--or, as we must read it without objective assumption, "to
do on the whole more often one class of acts than another." The right
must be defined simply as that to which this "special feeling in the
subject is directed," and it therefore becomes necessary "to discover
what descriptions of acts inspire this feeling."[253] Thus, with
greater facility than would be permitted to a critic, we are made to
pass from the subjective to the objective method of determination.
[Sidenote: (_b_) Objective standard:]
The question, What is right? is thus relinquished for the question,
What is good? Good is said to be of three kinds--natural, sensible,
and moral. But as by sensible good is meant pleasure,[254] and
pleasure is not the end, and as by moral good is meant "the pursuit
of natural good under difficulties,"[255] it follows that natural
good is the end we seek. We have thus to determine, as exactly
as may be, this objective standard called natural good. It is
interpreted in two ways, which, however, may be "not necessarily
inconsistent": (α) "the perfection of the type as it is," and (β)
"the absolute abundance and variety of vital power."[256]
[Sidenote: (α) Conformity to the type.]
[Sidenote: The type defined as what best serves its purpose]
This phrase, "the perfection of the type as it is," is somewhat
misleading. When "the perfection of the type" is said to be the end,
we naturally regard the type as something that needs to be brought to
perfection, and _ex hypothesi_ is not perfect at present, or "as it
is." But if "the perfection of the type _as it is_" is the standard,
this implies, unless the standard itself is faulty, that the type is
already perfect, and, therefore, that the perfection spoken of is
the characteristic of a thing which conforms to the type, and not
something to which the type has to conform. This interpretation is
confirmed by the fact that imperfection is defined as "only departure
from the class type."[257] Plainly, then, the objective standard
meant is conformity to the type. What, then, is the type? Concerning
things made by art the answer is easy. The type, as Mr Stephen puts
it, represents the "maximum of efficiency,"[258] or, as we may say,
is that which most fully realises the purpose for which the thing
was formed. The best bow is that which shoots truest and farthest
with a relatively small expenditure of strength by the archer; that
which best realises the purpose of a bow is the typical bow. A
similar explanation of types may be given regarding animals modified
by artificial selection. The typical pointer or hunter can be defined
from this teleological point of view; and, as long as people lived
in the belief that all things were made for man, it was natural to
fix the type of each class by reference to the human purpose it
could best subserve. So also, as long as people think that, whether
all things were made for man or not, all things may be made use of
by him, there will be a tendency towards the same anthropomorphic
interpretation of types. If, then, the typical products of art, and,
to a large extent, the typical products of nature, are those which
best serve human purposes, or best correspond with human ideals, how
shall we define the typical man himself--the type which it is our
perfection to conform to? "Every reasoning agent," it may perhaps
be allowed,[259] "represents a certain type;" but the type can no
longer be defined merely as "maximum of efficiency," for it is the
end or purpose of this efficiency which now requires determination.
In defining the typical man, we must have no idea of final cause or
purpose which is not rooted in the nature of his organism.
How, then, shall we now determine the type in conformity to which
perfection consists?[260]
[Sidenote: or as the normal,]
[Sidenote: or as what has strongest vitality or aids development,
that is,]
The first answer to this seems to be, that the type is what is
normal,--"what we have learned to regard as the normal development
of objects belonging to" the class.[261] But the normal may have
either of two meanings--it may, in the first place, mean the usual
or customary. This, however, would make the typical man mean the
ordinary or average man; and the ideal of conformity to the type
would be reduced to doing the customary thing, and not trying to be
better than one's neighbours. But it is evident that this stationary
morality does not represent properly what is fundamental in the
theory of evolution: "whatever other duties men may acknowledge,
they do not look upon it as a duty to preserve the species _in
statu quo_."[262] If natural science teaches one thing more clearly
than another, it is that the type, like the individual, is not
permanent, but the subject of gradual modifications. If the type
is what is normal, we must mean by "normal" something else than
customary. But the only other meaning of the word seems to imply a
reference to a rule--either a rule imposed from without, or an inner
constitution or order. If the former alternative is adopted, then
we may use another definition of Mr Stephen's, and say that "the
typical organism is ... that organism which is best fitted for all
the conditions of life, or, in other words, which has the strongest
vitality;"[263] and thus have to fall back either on the notion of
"adaptation to environment," or on that of "strongest vitality"--the
notion we are seeking to interpret. If the other meaning, which the
reference to a rule may convey, be adopted, then we are met by the
fact that the inner order or constitution which is to be our guide,
can (from our present empirical point of view) mean nothing different
from the line of development. And as we have already seen that it
is unsatisfactory to interpret this as equivalent to adaptation
to environment, or to increase of definiteness, coherence, and
heterogeneity, this principle of conformity to the type is reduced to
the general principle which we have been attempting to define more
exactly--increase of life.
[Sidenote: (β) Abundance and variety of vital power,]
[Sidenote: which falls back on the subjective standard.]
Thus the first determination of natural good as "perfection of the
type" is seen to reduce itself to the second, "absolute abundance
and variety of vital power." For the additional statement, which
makes the highest excellence consist in "conformity to the type as
it is going to be, but as, except in a few chosen specimens, it is
not yet discernible to be,"[264] is unsatisfactory. For to those
"few chosen specimens" the end would seem to be simply to remain as
they are--a conclusion which is hardly consistent for a writer who
regards morality as a continual progress towards a higher life, a
process of "climbing."[265] And, for the generality of men, there
must be some standard for determining what is "going to be," and for
certifying that the "few chosen specimens" have realised this state
in its perfect form. Thus "conformity to the type as it is going
to be," equally with "perfection of [conformity to] the type as it
is," seems to be but another way of saying "abundance and variety
of vital power," or, more fully stated, "the possession of abundant
faculties, active and passive, fully developed, and in regular and
equal exercise."[266] The question thus comes to be how we are to
determine this "abundance of faculties." We cannot do so by reference
to such characteristics as increase in the number and complexity of
these faculties; for a criterion of this kind, as we have seen, is of
no assistance in deciding the most fundamental ethical questions.
To say that these faculties must be "regular and equal" in their
exercise, is to give a merely formal canon. For how the equality
and regularity are to be brought about,--which faculties are to be
supreme and which subordinate--what meaning equality can have in
view of the admitted diversity in a man's nature,--are questions
left altogether undetermined. And to describe the ideal or perfect
universe as one in which there is no conflict or collision,[267] is
to give a description which is negative as well as merely formal.
We are thus obliged to fall back on a subjective criterion, and say
that the abundant life which it is the end of conduct to promote
is a man's strongest tendencies, or the greatest number of these.
Natural good is determined by "preferring out of all the rudimentary
possibilities existing in nature, the combination that harmonises
the greatest number of the strongest tendencies."[268] We set out,
be it remembered, to obtain a characterisation of those acts to
which the most persistent tendencies of human nature lead us; and
the conclusion we have arrived at is, that they are the acts which
harmonise the greatest number of the strongest tendencies. The
objective standard is thus reduced to the subjective standard, which
it was brought in to explain and support.
[Sidenote: Strongest tendencies the result of past activities,]
Now these strongest tendencies, in the harmonious play of which
natural good or perfection is said to consist, are themselves the
result of the courses of conduct which have been most vigorous
and successful in ancestral organisms, and they may therefore,
perhaps, be taken as a survival and index of the antecedent state
of human nature. The realisation--or, rather, continuation--of
human nature as it has been and is, seems thus to be the ideal
which empirical evolution is able to set before conduct,--with this
formal modification, that, while the various impulses are, so far as
possible, to have free play given them, they should be developed in
a harmonious manner. It seems doubtful how far this tendency towards
harmony is properly suggested by, or consistent with, evolution,
which has implied a ceaseless struggle of opposing forces. At any
rate, evolution does not seem competent to give any principle of
relative subordination between the various impulses, such as might
add reality to the formal principle of harmony. But what it is
essential to lay stress on here is, that the only end which empirical
evolution seems able to establish is conformity to human nature as it
is--the tendencies in it which are strongest and most persistent.
[Sidenote: and thus give no ideal for progress.]
We thus see that the attempt to explain on empirical grounds what
is meant by positing "life," or "increase and variety of life,"
as the end of action, is practically reduced to making the most
persistent impulses of human nature the guide of conduct. But these
impulses, it has been shown, are only the survival or remnant of
past stages in the course of development, not anticipations of
future stages: so that evolution is in this way incapable of giving
an ideal of progress as the end for conduct, and the last word it
seems able to give us as a guide for action is that we should tread
in the places where the footprints of ancestral conduct have left
the deepest impress. The ideal of such a system is summed up in
the new Beatitude, "Blessed is he that continueth where he is." It
is probably just because the empirical aspect of evolution seems
so little able to yield an end for human conduct corresponding to
the actual course of evolution--which has been progress--that no
thorough attempt has been made to develop a system of morals from the
principle just reached. It is true that systems have been worked out
by moralists who have taken human nature as their standard, and that
Trendelenburg, at any rate, expressly includes historical development
in his conception of man. But both Trendelenburg and a moralist like
Butler (who has as yet no conception of the gradual modifications of
human character and tendencies produced by evolution) have a view
of human nature essentially distinct from that which has been called
the "naturalistic" view.[269] For both assume a definite rational
organisation of impulses similar to that taught in Plato's analogy
between the individual man and a political constitution, so that the
whole nature, or human nature as a whole, cannot be identified with
the impulses which strength at any time makes most persistent, but
depends upon the rational allotment of function and measure to each.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Summary.]
[Sidenote: Difficulty of reconciling individual and social ends.]
In summing up the argument of the preceding chapters, it is necessary
to refer again to the discussion carried on in chapter vi. on the
relation between egoism and altruism as affected by the theory of
evolution. This discussion was not inserted in order to throw an
additional obstacle in the way of obtaining an ethical end from the
empirical theory of evolution. It is an integral part of an attempt
to estimate the ethical value of the evolution-theory. The antinomy
between the individual and social standpoints cannot be solved by
a theory of morality which does not recognise that the individual,
in his rational nature, is not opposed to other individuals, but
in reality one with them. The theory of evolution certainly seems
to go a long way towards establishing the unity of the individual
with the race, and in substituting an organic connection between
them, in place of the almost contingent reciprocal relations spoken
of in earlier empirical theories. But when we come to inquire into
this unity of organic connection, attempting still to keep to the
purely empirical point of view, we find that the old difficulties
return, that it must be recognised that the connection is empirically
incomplete, and that it gives way at the very places where a firm
basis for the theory of morals is required. It was in this way that,
quite apart from this opposition between the individual and the
whole, the empirical character of the theory prevented our getting
from it any clear and consistent notion of the ethical end it leads
to.
[Sidenote: Hedonistic interpretation of evolution not possible.]
It appeared at first that the ethics of evolution, when interpreted
empirically, might be easily reconciled with the older theory of
hedonism, by identifying life with pleasure--holding that the
highest or most evolved life is that which contains most pleasure,
and that increase of pleasure is therefore the end of conduct. In
this way the end of evolutionism would be reduced to the end of
utilitarianism. Some utilitarians, on the other hand, sought to get
rid of the difficulties of their calculus, by the assumption that
the greatest pleasure would be found by following the direction of
evolution. But, around both points of view, and the correspondence
they assumed to exist between pleasure and evolution, special
difficulties were seen to gather. Any hedonistic theory might be
met by the assertion that life is essentially a painful experience,
and pleasure unattainable; and although the grounds on which this
assertion was made seemed to be distinctly erroneous, and hedonism
did not appear to be an impossible theory of conduct, yet a similar
objection told with greater force against the combination of
evolutionism and hedonism. For it holds the double position that the
end is to promote life, and that life is to be promoted by adding to
pleasure; or else, that the end is pleasure, but that pleasure is to
be got by following evolution. It postulates, therefore, that the
progress of life tends, and tends even in a proportionate degree,
to the increase of pleasure. Yet we could obtain no proof that this
progress does, as a matter of fact, increase pleasure in any regular
way. On the contrary, the facts of experience seemed to show that
life and pleasure do not advance proportionately, nor even always
concomitantly. But a still more important and fundamental objection
to the hedonistic form of evolutionism was deduced from the nature
of pleasure itself; for it can be modified indefinitely, and always
follows in the wake of function. Thus the sole intelligible account
we can give of what conduct will bring the greatest pleasure is, that
it is the conduct which calls forth the greatest amount of successful
energising, that which employs the greatest number and the strongest
of the human faculties. Hence, instead of being able to measure life
by pleasure, we were driven to interpret pleasure in terms of life.
[Sidenote: No independent ethical ideal afforded by the theory of
evolution.]
And perhaps at first sight it seemed that the theory of evolution
could lead us beyond the pleasure-basis of older Naturalism. But,
when the matter was examined more closely, without departing from the
empirical point of view, it was found that the notions put forward
were unsatisfactory, that they did not represent the progressive
nature of the course of evolution, and that their apparent force
fell away before logical analysis. It became evident, in the first
place, that no appropriate end of human conduct could be derived
from the nature of evolution in general. It is true that adaptation
to environment is necessary for life; but to put forward such
adaptation as the end for action, is to set up a practical goal which
corresponds but ill with the facts from which it professes to be
taken, making the theory which is supposed to account for progress
establish no end by pursuit of which progress becomes possible for
human action. Further than this, it neglects a factor in evolution
as necessary to it as is adaptation to environment--the element,
namely, of variation. A theory which took the latter as well as the
former of these factors into account seemed, in the next place, to
be given by those general characteristics which are said to mark all
progress--increase of definiteness, coherence, and heterogeneity.
But from these, again, it was found impossible to elicit a coherent
and consistent rule for determining right and wrong in conduct, or
a definite end for action: they were too abstract and mechanical to
suit the living organism of human conduct; and we were thus driven
back on the more general statement that "life" or the "increase of
life" is the end after which we should strive. In inquiring into the
meaning which could be given to this end, without interpreting it
as pleasure, it was found, after tracing it through various forms
of expression, that it reduced itself to making a man's strongest
and most persistent impulses both standard and end. And this proved
to be not only an uncertain and shifting guide for conduct, but
an imperfect representation of what was to be expected from a
progressive, because evolutionist, ethics. For these persistent
impulses could only be regarded as the survival of past activities,
and consequently, contained no ideal beyond that of continuing in
the old paths, and re-treading an already well-beaten course. Just
as from the external end of adaptation to environment, so from this
internal or subjective principle, no ideal for progress, nor any
definite end of action, could be obtained.
It would appear, therefore, that the theory of evolution--however
great its achievements in the realm of natural science--is almost
resultless in ethics. It only remains now to inquire whether this
want of competency to determine practical ends may not be due to the
superficiality of the ordinary empirical interpretation of evolution,
which has hitherto been adhered to.
FOOTNOTES:
[191] Taking evolution in its widest sense, since the theory of
evolution does not "imply some intrinsic proclivity in every species
towards a higher form."--Spencer, First Principles, App. p. 574;
Principles of Sociology, i. 106.
[192] Spencer, Principles of Biology, i. 73.
[193] Ibid., i. 82.
[194] Reden (1876), ii. 332.
[195] Social Statics (1850), p. 77.
[196] Data of Ethics, p. 25.
[197] Data of Ethics, p. 16.
[198] Ibid., p. 71.
[199] See above, chap. vi. p. 137 ff.
[200] Zeller, Phil. d. Griechen, 3d ed., III. i. 454, 470.
[201] Lassalle's tirade against the "verdammte Bedürfnisslosigkeit"
of the German workman is a case in point.
[202] Lange, Gesch. d. Materialismus, 2d ed., ii. 458.
[203] Spencer, First Principles, p. 490.
[204] An aspect of Mr Spencer's ethical theory which will be
considered in the sequel: p. 228 ff.
[205] Cf. A. Barratt, Physical Ethics, p. 294, where morality is
placed in "reasonable obedience to the physical laws of nature."
[206] Data of Ethics, p. 148.
[207] Social Statics, quoted in Data of Ethics, p. 271.
[208] Data of Ethics, p. 279.
[209] Ibid., p. 275.
[210] Data of Ethics, p. 7.
[211] Ibid., p. 281.
[212] These are examined by Mr F. W. Maitland, in an incisive
criticism of "Mr H. Spencer's Theory of Society," Mind, viii. 354
ff., 506 ff.
[213] Data of Ethics, p. 282.
[214] Ibid., p. 283.
[215] First Principles, p. 517.
[216] Spencer, Psychology, § 212, i. 478.
[217] First Principles, p. 489.
[218] "A complete equilibrium of the aggregate is without life, and
a moving equilibrium of the aggregate is living."--Principles of
Sociology, i. 106.
[219] Data of Ethics, p. 254.
[220] Spencer, Data of Ethics, p. 26.
[221] Darwin, Origin of Species (1859), pp. 43, 131, 466.
[222] Spencer, Biology, i. 257.
[223] First Principles, p. 404 f.
[224] Cf. Clifford, Lectures and Essays, i. 101.
[225] Descent of Man, 2d ed., p. 137, cf. pp. 198, 618; cf. A. R.
Wallace, Contributions (1870), p. 330.
[226] Vierteljahrsschrift f. wiss. Phil., i. (1877), 543 ff.
[227] Rolph, Biol. Probl., p. 33.
[228] Darwin, Origin of Species, p. 336.
[229] Thus Darwin, Descent of Man, p. 51, speaking of the "advantage
to man" it must have been "to become a biped," says: "The hands and
arms could hardly have become perfect enough to have manufactured
weapons, or to have hurled stones and spears with a true aim, as long
as they were habitually used for locomotion and for supporting the
whole weight of the body; or, as before remarked, as long as they
were especially fitted for climbing trees." The hands had to lose
their dexterity for the latter purposes before they could acquire
the more delicate adjustments necessary for skill in the former. The
transition was of course a gradual one; but the initial variations
required would seem to have been at first unfavourable to man's
chances in the struggle for existence, though it was through them
that he rose to his place at the summit of the organic scale.
[230] Spencer, Data of Ethics, p. 280.
[231] Spencer, Biology, i. 149.
[232] ibid., i. 144.
[233] Spencer, Data of Ethics, p. 71: "Briefly, then, if the conduct
is the best possible on every occasion, it follows that as the
occasions are endlessly varied the acts will be endlessly varied
to suit--the heterogeneity in the combination of motions will be
extreme."
[234] Spencer, Data of Ethics, p. 106: "The acts characterised by the
more complex motives and the more involved thoughts, have all along
been of higher authority for guidance."
[235] Cf. Clifford, Lectures and Essays, i. 94 f., where a similar
definition is given in answer to the question, "What is the meaning
of _better_?"
[236] Spencer, Data of Ethics, p. 63.
[237] Cf. Spencer, First Principles, p. 566.
[238] So far as the following criticism may appear to apply to Mr
Spencer, and not merely to a possible way of defining moral conduct,
it is necessary to bear in mind the words of his preface to the 'Data
of Ethics': "With a view to clearness, I have treated separately some
correlative aspects of conduct, drawing conclusions either of which
becomes untrue if divorced from the other."
[239] Spencer, Data of Ethics, p. 75 f.
[240] Data of Ethics, p. 106.
[241] Although Mr Spencer holds that representativeness varies as
definiteness, and measures complexity, including that complexity
implied by increasing heterogeneity.--Principles of Psychology, ii.
516 f.
[242] Data of Ethics, p. 113.
[243] Cf. Principles of Sociology, ii. 725.
[244] Data of Ethics, p. 123.
[245] Data of Ethics, pp. 107, 129.
[246] Ibid., p. 110.
[247] Data of Ethics, p. 25; cf. Lange, Ges. d. Mat., ii. 247.
Lange's statement is noteworthy: "Die menschliche Vernunft kennt kein
anderes Ideal, als die möglichste Erhaltung und Vervollkommnung des
Lebens, welches einmal begonnen hat, verbunden mit der Einschränkung
von Geburt und Tod."
[248] The "endeavour to further evolution, especially that of
the human race," is put forward as a "new duty" by Mr F. Galton,
Inquiries into Human Faculty and its Development (1883), p. 337.
[249] Darwin, Descent of Man, p. 121; Stephen, Science of Ethics,
p. 366. Earlier than either of these writers, Dr Hutchison Stirling
suggested Health as a practical principle to be set against the
anarchy of individualism. But with him, it is not an empirical
generalisation of the tendency of evolution. It is as "the outward
sign of freedom, the realisation of the universal will," that "health
may be set at once as sign and as goal of the harmonious operation
of the whole system--as sign and as goal of a realisation of
life."--Secret of Hegel, ii. 554.
[250] Naturrecht auf dem Grunde der Ethik, 2d ed., 1868.
[251] Cf. E. Simcox, Natural Law, p. 97.
[252] Simcox, Natural Law, p. 86.
[253] Ibid., p. 87.
[254] Ibid., p. 90.
[255] Ibid., p. 99.
[256] Simcox, Natural Law, p. 104.
[257] Ibid., p. 87.
[258] Science of Ethics, p. 76.
[259] Science of Ethics, p. 74.
[260] Even were we to succeed in getting a satisfactory view of the
type, we should still have to leave room for the individuality of
each person, which is such that his function must differ in a manner
corresponding to his peculiar nature and surroundings (cf. Lotze,
Grundzüge der praktischen Phil., p. 13 f.)
[261] Simcox, Natural Law, p. 88.
[262] Ibid., p. 100.
[263] Science of Ethics, p. 120.
[264] Simcox, Natural Law, p. 104.
[265] Ibid., p. 103.
[266] Ibid., p. 89; cf. J. T. Punnet, Mind, x. 91: "What the
progress-principle makes its aim and end is not complexity, but the
highest and choicest fruits of complexity--the harmonious unfolding
of all the latent capacities of man."
[267] "Of real tendencies"--Natural Law, p. 98. But what tendencies
are not real?
[268] Natural Law, p. 98.
[269] Cf. Trendelenburg, Naturrecht, p. 45: "Von der philosophischen
Seite kann es kein anderes Princip der Ethik geben als das
menschliche Wesen an sich, d. h., das menschliche Wesen in der Tiefe
seiner Idee und im Reichthum seiner historischen Entwickelung. Beides
gehört zusammen. Denn das nur Historische würde blind und das nur
Ideale leer."