the effects is the other principle that the effect need not appear
at once. When good and great men are so often mistaken by their
contemporaries the fact is explained by the circumstance that only
a very wide-embracing glance can measure the significance of their
efforts and activity. Their goodness and greatness is founded in the
fact that their thought, their feeling, their will, comprehend far
more than their short-sighted and narrow-minded contemporaries see. A
long time may elapse before it is possible for them to be generally
understood, and for what they have done to be assimilated. It is
therefore by no means implied in the principle of welfare that people
are to direct their conduct so as to be in accord with impulses and
wants which men have at the moment. The principle of welfare demands
in very fact that we should not shrink from the battle with prejudice
and with inertia. The best thing, often, that we can do for others is
to make them feel that they stand on entirely too low a level in their
wishes and wants and do not make adequate demands generally. Thus,
to take a single instance, the great artist often treads a solitary
path ununderstood or even mistaken by the great mass. Yet in so doing
he follows, perhaps without being aware of it, the principle of
welfare,—if he rigorously observes the demands of art. He increases
the mental capital of the species, and gives it a power which later
on can operate in broad spheres. Only a short-sighted conception and
application of the principle of welfare stops with the need of the
moment and dismisses the consideration of the permanent conditions of
life and the permanent sources of new life and new activity.[123]
[123] This last argument is taken from my _Ethics_ (Danish
edition, p. 94, German edition, p. 110).
2) The principle of welfare simply furnishes a norm which may be laid
at the foundation of the testing of all classes of actions. But it by
no means demands, as has at times been supposed, that consideration
for welfare should also be the ground and motive for every act. We
have recourse to general principles only in order to be able to set
ourselves aright in cases in which direct judgment, instinctive feeling
cannot determine the question presented, that is in cases of doubt,
or when we have in view a systematic treatment of ethical questions.
The ethical feeling may operate quite involuntarily and without real
ratiocination, in that we can be moved directly by the act (whether
possible or real) as it appears to us, just as in our æsthetical
feeling we may without æsthetical reasoning be struck by the beauty
of a work of art or of a landscape. Or, we follow with confidence
the "unwritten laws" that are contained in custom, in tradition, and
generally in so-called "positive morality." And in agreement precisely
with the principle of welfare, is immediacy of this kind to be
recommended and maintained, so long as it does not lead to the neglect
of real problems and questions. It is the state of innocence out of
which no one dare be wrested unnecessarily. Abstract principles become
necessary aids when direct reliance fails; but frequently they can only
be applied to individual concrete cases by the employment of a great
number of complicated intermediary steps, and do not easily acquire a
practical influence upon the will. Indeed, the principle of welfare may
even demand quite different motives from ethical feeling or devotion to
the requirements of positive morality. It is in fact most beautiful and
best that a man should care for his wife and children because he loves
them and not because his ethical instinct requires it. Where conscious
duty has to be invoked in the innermost relations between man and man,
it is as a rule a sign of an unfortunate state of affairs. Perfect love
dispels not only fear but also duty.
In his "Ethics," at page 339, Wundt advances the following objection
to the principle of welfare: "It is conceivable that a person should
sacrifice himself for another; it is conceivable that a person should
yield up life and possessions for definite ideal ends, for his country,
for freedom, for religion, for science. But it has never come to pass,
and never will, that people shall renounce a thing solely to increase
the sum of happiness of the world." This objection overlooks the fact
that the principle of the valuation of an act that is regarded as good
need not be the motive to this act. The thought and feeling of the
person acting may stop very properly at country, freedom, or any other
ideal object, without the person's instituting any formal reflections
whatsoever with regard to the reasons of the value of the ideal ends
for which he sacrifices himself. But in systematic ethics or in
practical cases of doubt we inquire what value and importance love of
country, freedom, poetry, and science possess for human life. If, for
example, freedom were not a good for a people, the individual would do
wrong to sacrifice his life for it. It is never of course a question of
the abstract notion of welfare of and in itself, just as in a single
theoretical problem it is never a question of the abstract idea of
cause. But in ethics we lay down the principle of welfare and in the
theory of knowledge the principle of causality; endeavoring, thus, to
go back through analysis to the final assumptions of our practical and
theoretical intellectual activity.
3) It is no argument against the principle of welfare that pleasure
must be so often bought with pain. Pain is in that case only the
necessary transitional step, and the significance of the principle
of welfare is precisely the requirement it makes that the duty of
demonstration shall rest on those who maintain the necessity of such
an intermediary step. Any infliction of pain must be supplied with a
motive, whereas the feeling of pleasure in and of itself (that is if
its causes do not at the same time produce additional painful effects)
is justified. The principle of welfare simply says: Produce by thy
conduct as much pleasure and as little pain as is possible! The degree
to which it is possible to realise this demand, of this the principle
in and of itself says nothing. A principle is not subverted by the
difficulties of its application.
As experience teaches, there is a happiness that is not bought too
dearly with pain. Clara's song in Goethe's "Egmont":
"Himmelhoch jauchzend, _zum Tode betrübt_!"
has been cited in disproof of the principle of welfare. But let us hear
Clara to the end and note the last line of the song, in which she gives
the result of the entire train of her emotion. She says:
"_Glücklich_ allein ist die Seele die liebt!"
The phenomenon is this. There is a movement of the heart and mind,
a life of feeling, which are joined with a satisfaction so deep and
great that the powerful oscillation between pleasure and pain does
not destroy the total feeling of happiness, but strengthens it. Two
psychological factors co-operate here. The one is, that the pain
(the dis-pleasure or grief), unless it transcends a certain degree,
forms the background of the pleasurable feeling and is thereby able
to intensify the latter. In this very fact a sufficient motive lies
to choose conditions of this sort in preference to such as do not
stand so high in intensity but are nevertheless conditions of more
unmixed pleasure. The other factor is, that there can be an element
of attraction even in grief, simply because intense life, powerful
movement, and the straining of faculties that come with it, produce
of themselves satisfaction. All exertion of power which is not out of
proportion is connected with a feeling of pleasure. The feeling of
pleasure that accompanies grief and anxiety asserts itself in the fact
that we do not _wish_ to be transported out of it. An important element
here is also the organic process connected with every powerful state of
mind (the effect of the condition of the brain on the circulation of
the blood, on breathing, and on the organs of digestion), granting that
it is not the whole cause.
When Auguste Comte lost the woman who exerted so decisive an influence
on the direction of his mind in the last period of his life, he said
once in an outburst of sorrow evoked by her memory: "I owe it to thee
alone that I shall not leave this life without having known in a worthy
manner the best emotion of human nature.... Amid the severest pains
that this emotion can bring with it I have never ceased to feel that
the _true condition of happiness_ is, to have filled the heart—though
it be with pain, aye with bitterest pain."
Auguste Comte and Clara are accordingly quite in agreement, and the
ethics of welfare is in agreement with them both. If we desire to be
wholly secure against pain and anxiety, then we dare not love anything.
But what if love were the greatest happiness, even though it brought as
much sorrow again with it! With powerful action and great fulness of
life come also great costs, great contrasts, and great vibrations. Yet
who has said that the highest was to be had for little expenditure?
The feeling of pleasure is the only psychological criterion of health
and power of life. That which in all its immediate or remote effects in
all the creatures that it touches produces only pleasurable feeling,
cannot possibly be condemned. Welfare, therefore, in the sense of
permanent pleasurable feeling, is the final test-principle of action.
Pain is everywhere the sign of an incipient dissolution of life.[124]
This is exhibited in the simplest manner in the "physical" pain that
arises through the tearing of organic tissue. But it also holds true of
the "mental" pain that arises from anxiety, doubt, or repentance. It
points to a disharmony between the different forces and impulses of the
mind, a disharmony that can lead to the dissolution of consciousness.
If pain is a necessary intermediary step, the fact is partly founded
in the two psychological laws above mentioned, partly also in the
circumstance that it means the dissolution of something in us that
impedes a more free and more varied development of life. Childbirth
is accompanied with pain because the new life can only come into the
world at the cost of the old. Analogously the knowledge of truth is
often gained with pain because prejudices and illusions must first be
shattered. In the pain of repentance a lower self is dissolved in order
that a new and higher self may develop.
[124] Compare my _Psychology_ (Danish edition, pp. 315-318;
German edition, pp. 343-347).
4) A circumstance that has especially fostered the opposition to the
principle of welfare is undoubtedly the tendency to think exclusively,
in connection with the expression 'pleasurable feeling,' of the most
elementary sensual forms of pleasure. The latter are not excluded
by the principle of welfare; the principle, however, takes all the
aspects of human character into consideration, maintaining that
permanent pleasurable feeling is not to be established with certainty
if an essential aspect of this character is neglected. The defect
of elementary feelings of pleasure is that for the great part they
correspond to only momentary and limited relations.
A being whose feeling is of a purely elementary kind can maintain
itself as long as the simple conditions of life to which it is adapted
do not change. Thus some of the lowest animal forms like the infusoria
and rhizopods appear to have existed throughout infinitely long periods
of time in exactly their present condition. Here the adaptation to the
given conditions is as good as perfect. The same may be the case with
beings that at an earlier stage of their development have possessed
more developed organs and forms. Animals that live free in their youth,
afterwards however as parasites, lead a purely elementary life and
lose all the nerves and muscles that do not directly subserve this
form of existence. This is also true of man. Of the Fuegians, whose
wretched existence (wretched in our eyes) he portrays in vivid colors
in his "Journey Around the World," Darwin says: "There is no reason
for believing that the Fuegians are diminishing in number; we must
therefore assume that they enjoy a sufficient measure of happiness
(of whatever character this may be) to give life value in their eyes.
Nature, which makes habit an irresistible power and its effects
hereditary, has fitted the Fuegian to the climate and the products of
his wretched country." Primitive peoples of a higher type even (and not
only primitive peoples) afford examples of an adaptation to conditions
which excludes all motives to change and progress. It is dire necessity
that has brought man into the path of progress. Where such a compulsion
does not operate human emotional life is conditioned by a narrow sphere
of relations only and is therefore itself narrow and restricted.
Perhaps more complete, more unmixed satisfaction can be obtained
here than would be possible under more manifold and more complicated
circumstances. A small vessel may be fuller than a large one although
it holds less.[125]
[125] Fieri potest, ut vas aliquod minus majore plenius sit,
quamvis liquoris minus contineat. Cartesius, Epistola iv, Ad
principem Palatinam de sita beata.
It might perhaps be objected to the principle of welfare, that we
should really be obliged, in consistency with it, to make ourselves
all little vessels, and that agreeably to the principle an existence
limited to the primitive necessities of life and to purely elementary
feelings, would stand just as high as a life taken up with intellectual
labor and the activity of culture, or even higher, since an existence
of the latter kind could scarcely be accompanied with so unmixed and
secure a well-being, but would be united with trials and efforts
constantly renewed and with unrest ever recurring. If—as it might
be suggested—an existence like that of the Fuegians appears poor and
wretched to us, since they often suffer from scarcity and want, let us
take another example. Alexander von Humboldt came across a tribe in
South America that lived from banana trees,—trees so fruitful that
an acre of land planted with them would supply food for fifty human
beings. The trees require no real expenditure of labor; only the earth
about their roots must be broken with implements once or twice a year.
The consequence is that the tribe is stupid and uncivilised. But the
wants that it has are satisfied.
That which would make such a life unendurable for us, _the strong
desire for activity, development, and progress_, this desire does not
exist at such stages. It is,—a fact that must be remarked,—_itself a
consequence of development and progress_.
Whereas Lamarck assumed an inner, innate impulse to development in all
living creatures,[126] Darwin maintains, on the ground of experience,
that development is invariably introduced by the influence of external
causes. It was a difficulty to Lamarck how the very lowest forms of
life could continue their existence, why they had not long since
developed to higher stages. In Darwin's theory, which takes into
consideration the external conditions of development, there is no
difficulty on this point. A development that is favored _in no way_ by
external circumstances is simply impossible. As regards human beings,
the anthropologist Th. Waitz has clearly proved, that the impulse and
desire of development is itself a product of development. To this
effect he speaks in his treatise "The Indians of North America," page
69: "A people without intercourse and not in competition with other
peoples, a people which supplies its natural wants with relative
ease or only by overcoming long accustomed difficulties regarded as
inevitable, directly from its natural environment, and that feels
satisfied therewith and lives a happy life: from such a people it
is not to be expected that it will make any endeavors to civilise
itself. He that has what he needs and therefore feels satisfied in all
respects, will not work; people do not civilise themselves voluntarily
in following some noble instinct of the heart. Is it different in fact
in our modern society? Is not a long period of schooling and culture
previously necessary to instil in man an interest for work as work?
How many are there among the so-called learned and cultured that make
endeavors in behalf of the education of themselves and others without
they are required!"
[126] The theory of Lamarck is made the subject of an
interesting criticism by Herbert Spencer in his _Principles of
Biology_, Part iii, Chap. 3.
It is peculiar to the state of nature in contrast to the state of
civilisation, (in so far as a distinct contrast may be asserted,)
that in the former the impulse to change of manner of life and
thought must come from without, whereas in the latter an impulse to
progress operates which be it now powerful be it now feeble never
ceases entirely to operate. This difference is analogous to that that
prevails between inorganic and organic existence. It is the peculiar
character of an organism that the play of forces is preserved in it
with a certain independence of the effects of the moment and of its
immediate environment. So in civilised peoples an impulse is aroused to
change life in all directions, to differentiate, to shape it, and to
bring it to a point in every single direction. Spiritual antennæ are
grown which are in never ceasing movement. Through this a new species
of feeling also is possible, _a feeling that is determined not only by
the definite ends that are attained but which links itself with the
work, with the activity itself which is requisite to the acquisition
of these ends_. Man is thereby become more independent and more free,
and his mental life, especially his emotional life, has gained in depth
and intensity, it now being no longer determined merely by the external
world, but essentially by the forces that are awakened in the inner
world. Now ideal, and not merely elementary feelings act, and higher
demands are made in life.
What I wish to maintain here is that _the rise of the impulse to
development is in perfect accord with the principle of welfare_. That
stability of the "state of nature" which now appears to us wretched
now paradisian, is itself dependent on the stability of external
conditions. Absolute stability, however, is not found in nature. If
the immediate surroundings do not change, changes yet occur in other
localities of nature and among other creatures, and the struggle
for existence then either causes them to perish or to change in a
corresponding manner. The beings that have changed by adaptation will
obtain a decided advantage in the struggle for life over those that
have remained stationary. This is the fate of many primitive peoples,
or indeed civilised peoples, that have remained stationary or in a low
state of culture. Extinction awaits them when a higher civilisation
approaches.
What is true of peoples and races also holds good for individuals.
A perfect adaptation to limited circumstances always involves a
danger,—the danger that the individual when its conditions of life
are changed and its horizon is enlarged will lack the inner conditions
necessary to self-assertion. Childish _naïveté_, dreaming phantasy,
sensual enjoyment, have each their rights, but they easily lead to a
condition of somnambulism; security and happiness are always precarious
here, and on awakening the greatest helplessness may take their place.
Here, let us add, we leave entirely out of consideration the fact that
such a condition often exists only at the cost of other individuals.
Welfare, accordingly, cannot be conceived as a passive state of
things produced once for all and that is not itself in turn the point
of departure of new and progressive development. Welfare, in the
highest conception of it, must consist of a condition in which power
is gathered and rich possibilities gained for the future, and which
generates an impulse to frame new ends and to begin new endeavors. It
is a condition that is desirable in and of itself as well as one that
contains the germ of new desirable conditions,—a condition therefore
that is not only an end but also a means, that has value not only as
effect but also as cause. The feeling of pleasure is here directly
bound up with activity, work, development, the unfolding of forces
themselves, and not merely with the result that is obtained by the
employment of the forces. Where such feeling of pleasure is possible
there much suffering is endurable that at a lower stage would be the
sign of the dissolution of all life. Expectation and longing, privation
and disappointment will not be lacking; they will accompany with
definite rhythmical alternation the joyful advancement toward the aim
that man has set himself; but amid all oscillations the fundamental
direction and the fundamental activity will be asserted. We will not
work to live, we will not live to work; but _in_ work will we find life.
This is the ideal that the principle of welfare holds up to us when
thoroughly reasoned out. In how far it can be realised is a question
that can only be answered experimentally for the time and the
individual in question. It demands not only a change of the nature of
individuals but also of the relations of society. The essential thing
however is, that we here have a criterion by which we are able to test
actions and institutions. This criterion corresponds to a tendency
that leads throughout all organic nature, in that pleasure as a rule
means life and progress, pain, retrogression and death. The principle
of welfare asserts the right of life: every creature has the right to
exist, to develop, and to obtain its full satisfaction, unless greater
pain is thereby produced to itself or to others. The ethics that
builds upon the principle of welfare seeks accordingly to continue the
evolution of nature in a conscious and harmonious manner. It demands
that means be found which the unconscious development of nature have
not supplied, and it strives to mitigate or to exclude the unnecessary
pain which the struggle for existence brings with it. It embraces a
series of problems from compassionate alleviation and assistance up to
the highest social, intellectual, and æsthetical endeavors. It is the
business of special ethics to treat these questions in detail.
5) From the fact, however, that welfare, properly understood, consists
in activity and development, it does not follow that _vice versa_
activity and development are always joined with welfare or lead to
welfare. Because limitation of wants does not always lead to the aim
set, unlimited variety of wants is not necessarily the proper state.
Civilisation can assume forms and enter on paths that do not harmonise
with the principle of welfare. We find in history accordingly, at
times, distinct and decisive warnings against existing civilisations.
Thus it was in Greece on the part of Socrates, the Cynics, and the
Stoics, in the eighteenth century on the part of Rousseau, and in our
day on the part of Leo Tolstoï. The opposition of such great minds
should surely make us watchful.
I leave out of consideration here the question in how far that which we
call civilisation can be imparted to a people forthwith. The capacity
for civilisation has, it is true, been prematurely and overhastily
denied many primitive peoples.[127] But it is not therefore necessarily
a good thing for a people to give up the forms of life that it has
developed by its own fortunes and endeavors to allow itself to be
regulated in accordance with forms and ideals that have been developed
under entirely different circumstances. Thus directly, even the
best-founded and most perfect civilisation cannot be communicated.
Waitz who expressly maintains that no proof has been brought forward
of the Indian's incapacity for civilisation, praises nevertheless the
Indian chieftains who oppose the obtrusion of civilisation on their
people, for their love to their people and their just comprehension of
its true well-being.
[127] Compare my article in the _International Journal of
Ethics_, No. I. p. 60.