reward, or praise and blame, in the Determinist scheme of things.
Another word than punishment might be selected, and one that would be
without its unpleasant associations, but on the whole it is advisable
perhaps to retain the word in order to see the nature of the problem
clearly. Of course, punishment in the sense of the infliction of pain
merely because certain actions have been committed, no Determinist would
countenance. So far as punishment is inflicted in this spirit of sheer
retaliation it serves only to gratify feelings of malevolence. A society
that punishes merely to gratify resentment is only showing that it can
be as brutal collectively as individuals can be singly. And if
punishment begins and ends with reference to the past, then it is
certainly revolting to inflict pain upon a person because he has done
what education and organization impelled him to do. So far one can agree
with Professor Sidgwick that when a man's conduct is "compared with a
code, to the violation of which punishments are attached, the question
whether he really could obey the rule by which he is judged is obvious
and inevitable." But when he goes on to reply "If he could not, it seems
contrary to our sense of justice to punish him," the reply is, Not if
the code is one that normal human nature can obey, and the individual
one who can be modified in a required direction in both his own interest
and the interest of others. For if our punishment is prospective instead
of retrospective, or at least retrospective only so far as to enable us
to understand the character of the individual with whom we are dealing,
and using punishment as one of the means of securing a desirable
modification of character, then punishment is merged in correction, and
receives a complete justification upon Deterministic lines.
The problem is comparatively simple. Actions being decided by motives,
the problem with a socially defective character is how to secure the
prevalence of desires that will issue in desirable conduct. A man
steals; the problem then is, How can we so modify the character of which
stealing is the expression, so that we may weaken the desire to steal
and strengthen feelings that will secure honesty of action? On the lower
plane society resorts to threats of pains and penalties, so that when
the desire to steal arises again, the knowledge that certain measures
will be taken against the offender will arrest this desire. This is one
of the principal grounds on which a measure like the First Offenders Act
is based. On a higher plane the approval and respect of society serve to
awaken a positive liking for honesty and the formation of desirable
mental habits. Praise and blame rest upon a precisely similar basis. Man
being the socialized animal he is, the approbation and disapprobation of
his fellows must always exert considerable influence on his conduct. The
memory of censure passed or of praise bestowed acts as one of the many
influences that will determine conduct when the critical moment for
action arrives. Man does not always consciously put the question of what
his social circle will think of his actions, but this feeling rests upon
a deeper and more secure basis than that of consciousness. It has been,
so to speak, worked into his nature by all the generations of social
life that have preceded his existence, and to escape it means to put
off all that is distinctly human in his character. Every time we praise
or blame an action we are helping to mould character, for both will
serve as guides in the future. And it is just because at the moment of
action a person "could not help doing" what he did that there is any
reasonable justification for either approval or censure. Social approval
and disapproval become an important portion of the environment to which
the human being must perforce adapt himself.
What use could there be in punishing or blaming a man if his actions are
determined, not by realizable motives, but by a mysterious will that in
spite of our endeavours remains uninfluenced? If neither the promise nor
the recollection of punishment creates feelings that will determine
conduct, then one might as well whip the wind. Its only purpose is to
gratify our own feelings of anger or malevolence. It is equally futile
to look for the cause of wrong-doing in education, organization, or
environment. For in proportion as we recognize any or all of these
factors as determining conduct we are deserting the Indeterminist
position, and relinquishing the "freedom" of the will. If Indeterminism
be true we are forced to believe that although as a consequence of
ill-conduct evil feelings may arise with greater frequency, yet they
must be wholly ineffective as influencing action. It cannot even be
argued that certain motives offer stronger attraction than others to the
will, for this in itself would be a form of determinism. There is no
middle course. Either the "will" remains absolutely uninfluenced by
threat of punishment or desire for praise, serenely indifferent to the
conflict of desires, and proof against the influence of education, or it
forms a part of the causative sequence and the truth of Determinism is
admitted. You cannot at the same time hold that man does not act in
accordance with the strongest motive, and decide that the "will"
maintains its freedom by deciding which motive shall be the
strongest--its own determination not being the product of previous
training. One need, indeed, only state the Indeterminist position
plainly to see its inherent absurdity.
If ever in any case the argument _ad absurdum_ was applicable it is
surely here. It may safely be said that the larger part of the life of
each of us is passed in anticipating the future in the light of
experience. But if "Free-Will" be a fact, on what ground can we forecast
the future. If motives do not determine conduct, any prophecy of what
certain people may do in a given situation is futile. The will being
indetermined, what they have done in the past is no guide as to what
they will do in the future. If motives did not decide then they will not
decide now. Whether we read backward or forward makes no difference. We
have no right to say that the actions of certain statesmen prove them to
have been animated by the desire for wealth or power. That would imply
Determinism. We cannot say that because a murder has been committed a
certain person who bore the deceased ill-will is rightly suspected. This
is assuming that conduct is determined by motives. If we see a person
jump into the river, we have no right to argue that depressed health,
or financial worry, or impending social disgrace, has caused him to
commit suicide. The mother may as easily murder her child as nurse it.
The workman may labour as well for a bare pittance as for a comfortable
wage. A man outside a house in the early hours of the morning, armed
with a dark lantern and a jemmy, may have no desire to commit a
burglary. A person with a game bag and a gun furnishes no reliable data
for believing that he intends to shoot something. In all of these cases,
and in hundreds of others, if "free-will" be a fact we have no right to
argue from actions to motives, or infer motives from actions. Motives do
not rule, and we are witnessing the uncaused and unaccountable vagaries
of an autonomous will.
It is sometimes said that no matter how convinced a Determinist one may
be, one always acts as though the will were free. This, so far from
being true, is the reverse of what really happens. In all the affairs of
life people of all shades of opinion concerning Determinism really act
as though "Free-Will" had no existence. It would, indeed, be strange
were it otherwise. Facts are more insistent than theories, and in the
last resort it is the nature of things which determines the course of
our actions. Nature, while permitting considerable latitude in matters
of theory or opinion, allows comparatively little play in matters of
conduct. And it may be asserted that a society which failed to
acknowledge in its conduct the principle of Determinism would stand but
small chance of survival. As a matter of fact, when it comes to
practical work the theory of "Free-Will" is ignored and the theory of
Determinism acted upon. The unfortunate thing is that the maintenance of
"Free-Will" in the sphere of opinion serves to check the wholesome
application of the opposite principle. Theory is used to check action
instead of serving its proper function as a guide to conduct.
Still, it is instructive to note to what extent in the sphere of
practice the principle of Determinism is admitted. In dealing with the
drink question, for instance, temperance reformers argue that a
diminution in the number of public-houses, and the creation of
opportunities for healthy methods of enjoyment, will diminish temptation
and weaken the desire for alcoholic stimulants. In the training of
children stress is rightly laid upon the importance of the right kind of
associates, the power of education, and of healthy physical
surroundings. With adults, the beneficial influences of fresh air, good
food, well-built houses, open spaces, and healthy conditions of labour
have become common-places of sociology. In every rational biography
attention is paid to the formative influences of parents, friends, and
general environment. Medical men seek the cause of frames of mind in
nervous structure, and predisposition to physical, mental, and moral
disease in heredity. Statisticians point to absolute uniformity of
general human action under certain social conditions. Moralists point to
the power of ideals on people's minds. Religious teachers emphasize the
power of certain teachings in reducing particular habits. In all these
cases no allowance whatever is made for the operation of an undetermined
will. The motive theory of action may not be consciously in the minds
of all, but it is everywhere and at all times implied in practice.
In strict truth, we cannot undertake a single affair in life without
making the assumption that people will act in accordance with certain
motives, and that these in turn will be the outcome of specific desires.
If I journey from here to Paris I unconsciously assume that certain
forces--the desire to retain a situation, to earn a living, to satisfy a
sense of duty--will cause all the officials connected with boat and
train service to carry out their duties in a given manner. If I appeal
for the protection of the police I am again counting upon certain
motives influencing the official mind in a particular manner. All
commercial transactions rest upon the same unconscious assumption. A
merchant who places an order with a firm in Russia, America, or Japan,
or who sends goods abroad, counts with absolute confidence upon certain
desires and mental states so influencing a number of people with whom he
has no direct connection, that they will co-operate in landing the goods
at the point desired. Or if the goods are not transmitted as desired, it
is not because the principle upon which he relied is invalid, but
because other desires have operated in a more powerful manner. A general
commanding an army acts on precisely the same principle. The ideal of
duty, of the honour of the regiment, the desire for distinction, are all
counted upon as being powerful enough to serve as motives that will
cause men to join in battle, storm a risky position, or take part in a
forlorn hope. History is read upon the same principle. The statement
that Nero was cruel, that Henry the Eighth was of an amatory nature,
that Charles I. was tyrannical, or that Louis the Fifteenth was
licentious, could not be made unless we argue that their actions imply
the existence of certain motives. That the motive theory of the will is
true is admitted in practice by all. The Indeterminist admits it even in
his appeal to "Liberty." He is counting upon the desire for freedom
(sociologically) as being strong enough to lead people to reject a
theory which denies its applicability to morals.
Human nature becomes a chaos if Determinism is denied. Neither a science
of human conduct nor of history is possible in its absence; for both
assume a fundamental identity of human nature beneath all the
comparatively superficial distinctions of colour, creed, or national
divisions. The determination of the influence of climate, food,
inter-tribal or international relations, of the power of ideals--moral,
religious, military, national, etc.--are all so many exercises in the
philosophy of Determinism. In none of these directions do we make the
least allowance for the operation of an uncaused "will." We say with
absolute confidence that given a people with a military environment, and
either its discomforts produce an anti-militarist feeling, or its
glamour evokes a strong militarist feeling. So with all other
consideration that comes before us. And as Determinism enables us to
read and understand history and life, so it also provides a basis upon
which we can work for reform. In the belief that certain influences will
produce, in the main, a particular result, we can lay our plans and
work with every prospect of ultimate success. Instead of our best
endeavours being left at the mercy of an undetermined "will," they take
their place as part of the determining influences that are moulding
human nature. Every action becomes a portion of the environment with
which each has to deal. More, it becomes a portion of the agent's own
environment, a part of that ideal world in which we all more or less
live. And the heightened consciousness that every action leaves a
certain residuum for either good or ill, supplies in itself one of the
strongest incentives for the exercise of self-control and furnishes an
unshakable basis for self-development.
VII.
DETERMINISM AND CHARACTER.
In spite of what has been said, it may be that a protest will still be
raised by some on behalf of character. A man's character, it will be
argued, is an alienable personal possession. What he does belongs to him
in a sense that is peculiar to his personality. In many important
instances his actions bear the stamp of individuality in so plain a
manner that while we cannot predict what he will do, once it is done we
recognize by the peculiar nature of the action that it must have been
done by him and by none other. In painting, in music, in literature, and
in many other walks of life, we are able to infer authorship by the
personality stamped upon the production. Moreover, nothing that we can
do or say will ever destroy the conviction that my actions are _mine_.
They proceed from _me_; they are the expressions of _my_ character; it
is this feeling that induces me to plead guilty to the charge of
responsibility, and this conviction remains after all argument has been
urged. But, it is further asked, how can this be aught but an illusion
if I am not the real and determining cause of my conduct? If I and my
actions are the products of a converging series of calculable or
indetermined forces, are we not compelled to dismiss this conviction as
pure myth? Must I not conclude that I am no more the determining cause
of my conduct than a stone determines whether it shall fall to the
ground or not? And is not the cultivation of character, therefore, an
absurd futility?
Now although the Determinist will dissent from the conclusions of those
who argue in this way, with a great deal of the argument he would agree;
more than that, he would enforce the same line of reasoning as a
legitimate inference from his own position. And he might also submit
that it is only by an acceptance of the deterministic position that such
reasoning can receive full justification.
What do we mean by character? Suppose we reply with T. H. Green by
defining character as the way in which a man seeks self-satisfaction.[7]
We are next faced with the problem of accounting for the different ways
in which self-satisfaction is sought. One man is a drunkard and another
temperate, one is benevolent and another grasping, one is cruel and
another kind; there are endless diversities of human conduct, and all
come within the scope of Green's definition of character. We have to
look farther and deeper. A satisfactory answer clearly cannot be found
in the assumption that each person's actions proceed from an unfettered,
autonomous will. The reason for the choice would still have to be
discovered. Nor will it do to attribute the difference of choice to
different environmental influences in which the "self" is placed. This
would indeed be reducing the man to the level of a machine, or to a
lower level still. And the same environmental influences do _not_
produce identical results. This is one of the commonest facts of daily
experience. Stimulus from the environment is the essential condition of
action, but the precise nature of the action elicited is an affair of
the organism. If I am courageous by nature I shall stay and face a
threatened danger. If I am cowardly I shall run away. Thus, while
circumstances are the cause of my acting, how I shall act is in turn
caused by my character, the net result being due to their interaction.
This seems so obvious that it may well be accepted as a datum common to
both parties in the dispute.
[7] _Works_, vol. ii. p. 142.
We may, then, freely grant the Indeterminist--what he foolishly assumes
is inconsistent with the Deterministic position--that environment may be
modified by character, that a man is not the creature of circumstances,
if we restrict that word to external circumstances, as is so often done.
A man, we will say, allowing for the influence of external
circumstances, acts according to his character. The question then
becomes, "What is his character? How does he acquire it?[8] And whence
the varieties of character?" To these queries the only intelligible
reply is that a man's character represents his psychic heritage, as his
body represents his physical heritage, both of them being subject to
development and modification by post-natal influences. Each one thus
brings a different psychic force, or a different character, to bear upon
the world around him. He is thus the author of his acts, not in the
unintelligible sense of absolutely originating the sequence that
proceeds from his actions, but in the rational sense of being that point
in the sequence that is represented by his personality. And his actions
bear the stamp of his personality because had his antecedents been
different his actions would have varied accordingly. Each is properly
judged in terms of character, because it is the character which
determines the form taken by the reaction of the organism on the
environment.
[8] Of course, the man and his character are not
two distinct things. The character is the man. But
it would involve needless circumlocution to insist
on superfine distinctions, and it may even help to
a comprehension of the argument to keep to
familiar forms of speech.
We may go even further than this and say that it is only actions which
proceed from character that are properly the subject of moral judgment.
Let us take a concrete illustration of this. A man distributes a large
sum of money among the inhabitants of a town, some of it in the form of
personal gifts among its needy inhabitants, the rest in endowing various
institutions connected with its social and municipal life. Twelve months
later he comes forward as candidate in a parliamentary election. The
question of his donations at once comes up for judgment, and in defence
he may plead that he was only invited to contest the seat after the
money was given. How shall we determine what his motives were? Obviously
by an appeal to his character. If he were well known as a wealthy person
of recognized benevolent disposition, it would be argued that while his
candidature would inevitably reap benefit from his donations it was
highly probable that in giving the money he was only acting as one would
expect him to act. If, on the other hand, he was well known as a person
of a mean and grasping disposition, it would be concluded that the
donation was an attempt to bribe the electorate, his giving the money so
long before being an intelligent anticipation of events. In either case
we should be appealing to character, and judging the man by what of his
character was known. Numerous instances of a like kind might be given,
but in every case it would be found that we infer from an action a
particular kind of motive, and that our judgment of the motive is
determined by the character of the individual. This is so far the case
that we are apt to mistrust our own judgment when we find a benevolent
person doing what looks like a mean action, or a brave person committing
what looks like an act of cowardice. While action is thus--so far as it
is intentional--always the registration of motive, and motive the
expression of a preponderating desire, the desire, whether it be
licentious or chaste, noble or ignoble, is the outcome of character.
Determinism thus finds a fit and proper place for character in its
philosophy of things. It does not say that the fact or the consideration
of character is irrelevant; on the contrary, it says it is
all-important. And in saying this it challenges the position of the
Indeterminist by the implication that it is only on lines of Determinism
that character is important or that it can be profitably cultivated. For
consider what is meant by saying that conduct implies and proceeds from
character. It clearly implies that a man acts in this or that manner
because he has been in the habit of acting in this or that manner. We do
not gather grapes from thistles, and we do not experience noble actions
from a depraved character. The actions of each are determined by the
character of each, and character is in turn the outcome of psychic
inheritance, plus the effects of the interaction of organism and
environment from the moment of birth onward. Personal characteristics,
honesty, courage, truthfulness, loyalty, thus imply strictly determined
qualities. They are qualities determined by the nature of the organism.
They could not be expressed unless the surrounding circumstances were
favourable to their expression; but neither could they be manifested
unless the character was of a particular order. Conduct is, in fact,
always a product of the two things.
Let us also note that it is this determination of qualities that is
implied when we speak of a good or a bad, a strong or a weak character.
We should not call a man a good character who to-day fed a starving
child, and to-morrow kicked it from his doorstep. We should describe him
as, at best, a person of an exceedingly variable disposition who
satisfied the caprice of the moment irrespective of the feelings and
needs of others. We should not call a person strong who withstood a
temptation one hour and yielded to it the next. He would be described as
weak, and lacking the compelling force of a stable disposition. It is
also true that the moralization of character is the more complete as the
determined nature of impulses is the more evident. Most people would not
only resent the imputation of having committed a mean action, they would
also resent the likelihood of their committing one. And in common
speech, and in fact, the highest tribute we can pay a man is to say
that a certain kind of action is beneath him. We say that we know A
would not have committed a theft, but we are quite willing to believe it
of B. In each case we make no allowance for the operation of an
undetermined will; such doubts as we have being connected with our
inability to completely analyze the character in question. But our
prognostications are strictly based upon our knowledge of character and
upon the conviction that given a certain character and the operation of
particular motives, specific action follows with mathematical certainty.