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PRINCIPIA ETHICA
CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS
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PRINCIPIA ETHICA
BY
GEORGE EDWARD MOORE
LITT.D. CAMBRIDGE, HON. LL.D. ST ANDREWS,
FELLOW OF THE BRITISH ACADEMY,
LECTURER IN MORAL SCIENCE IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE
“Everything is what it is,
and not another thing”
BISHOP BUTLER
CAMBRIDGE
AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS
1922
_First Edition_ 1903
_Reprinted_ 1922
DOCTORIBUS AMICISQUE CANTABRIGIENSIBUS
DISCIPULUS AMICUS CANTABRIGIENSIS
PRIMITIAS
D. D. D.
AUCTOR
PREFACE.
It appears to me that in Ethics, as in all other philosophical studies,
the difficulties and disagreements, of which its history is full, are
mainly due to a very simple cause: namely to the attempt to answer
questions, without first discovering precisely _what_ question it
is which you desire to answer. I do not know how far this source of
error would be done away, if philosophers would _try_ to discover what
question they were asking, before they set about to answer it; for the
work of analysis and distinction is often very difficult: we may often
fail to make the necessary discovery, even though we make a definite
attempt to do so. But I am inclined to think that in many cases a
resolute attempt would be sufficient to ensure success; so that, if
only this attempt were made, many of the most glaring difficulties
and disagreements in philosophy would disappear. At all events,
philosophers seem, in general, not to make the attempt; and, whether in
consequence of this omission or not, they are constantly endeavouring
to prove that ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ will answer questions, to which _neither_
answer is correct, owing to the fact that what they have before their
minds is not one question, but several, to some of which the true
answer is ‘No,’ to others ‘Yes.’
I have tried in this book to distinguish clearly two kinds of question,
which moral philosophers have always professed to answer, but which,
as I have tried to shew, they have almost always confused both with one
another and with other questions. These two questions may be expressed,
the first in the form: What kind of things ought to exist for their
own sakes? the second in the form: What kind of actions ought we to
perform? I have tried to shew exactly what it is that we ask about a
thing, when we ask whether it ought to exist for its own sake, is good
in itself or has intrinsic value; and exactly what it is that we ask
about an action, when we ask whether we ought to do it, whether it is a
right action or a duty.
But from a clear insight into the nature of these two questions, there
appears to me to follow a second most important result: namely, what
is the nature of the evidence, by which alone any ethical proposition
can be proved or disproved, confirmed or rendered doubtful. Once we
recognise the exact meaning of the two questions, I think it also
becomes plain exactly what kind of reasons are relevant as arguments
for or against any particular answer to them. It becomes plain that,
for answers to the _first_ question, no relevant evidence whatever
can be adduced: from no other truth, except themselves alone, can it
be inferred that they are either true or false. We can guard against
error only by taking care, that, when we try to answer a question of
this kind, we have before our minds that question only, and not some
other or others; but that there is great danger of such errors of
confusion I have tried to shew, and also what are the chief precautions
by the use of which we may guard against them. As for the _second_
question, it becomes equally plain, that any answer to it _is_ capable
of proof or disproof--that, indeed, so many different considerations
are relevant to its truth or falsehood, as to make the attainment of
probability very difficult, and the attainment of certainty impossible.
Nevertheless the _kind_ of evidence, which is both necessary and alone
relevant to such proof and disproof, is capable of exact definition.
Such evidence must contain propositions of two kinds and of two kinds
only: it must consist, in the first place, of truths with regard to
the results of the action in question--of _causal_ truths--but it must
_also_ contain ethical truths of our first or self-evident class. Many
truths of both kinds are necessary to the proof that any action ought
to be done; and any other kind of evidence is wholly irrelevant. It
follows that, if any ethical philosopher offers for propositions of
the first kind any evidence whatever, or if, for propositions of the
second kind, he either fails to adduce both causal and ethical truths,
or adduces truths that are neither, his reasoning has not the least
tendency to establish his conclusions. But not only are his conclusions
totally devoid of weight: we have, moreover, reason to suspect him
of the error of confusion; since the offering of irrelevant evidence
generally indicates that the philosopher who offers it has had before
his mind, not the question which he professes to answer, but some other
entirely different one. Ethical discussion, hitherto, has perhaps
consisted chiefly in reasoning of this totally irrelevant kind.
One main object of this book may, then, be expressed by slightly
changing one of Kant’s famous titles. I have endeavoured to write
‘Prolegomena to any future Ethics that can possibly pretend to be
scientific.’ In other words, I have endeavoured to discover what are
the fundamental principles of ethical reasoning; and the establishment
of these principles, rather than of any conclusions which may be
attained by their use, may be regarded as my main object. I have,
however, also attempted, in Chapter VI, to present some conclusions,
with regard to the proper answer of the question ‘What is good in
itself?’ which are very different from any which have commonly been
advocated by philosophers. I have tried to define the classes within
which all great goods and evils fall; and I have maintained that very
many different things are good and evil in themselves, and that
neither class of things possesses any other property which is both
common to all its members and peculiar to them.
In order to express the fact that ethical propositions of my _first_
class are incapable of proof or disproof, I have sometimes followed
Sidgwick’s usage in calling them ‘Intuitions.’ But I beg it may be
noticed that I am not an ‘Intuitionist,’ in the ordinary sense of
the term. Sidgwick himself seems never to have been clearly aware
of the immense importance of the difference which distinguishes his
Intuitionism from the common doctrine, which has generally been called
by that name. The Intuitionist proper is distinguished by maintaining
that propositions of my _second_ class--propositions which assert that
a certain action is _right_ or a _duty_--are incapable of proof or
disproof by any enquiry into the results of such actions. I, on the
contrary, am no less anxious to maintain that propositions of _this_
kind are _not_ ‘Intuitions,’ than to maintain that propositions of my
_first_ class _are_ Intuitions.
Again, I would wish it observed that, when I call such propositions
‘Intuitions,’ I mean _merely_ to assert that they are incapable of
proof; I imply nothing whatever as to the manner or origin of our
cognition of them. Still less do I imply (as most Intuitionists have
done) that any proposition whatever is true, _because_ we cognise it in
a particular way or by the exercise of any particular faculty: I hold,
on the contrary, that in every way in which it is possible to cognise a
true proposition, it is also possible to cognise a false one.
When this book had been already completed, I found, in Brentano’s
‘Origin of the Knowledge of Right and Wrong[1],’ opinions far more
closely resembling my own, than those of any other ethical writer with
whom I am acquainted. Brentano appears to agree with me completely
(1) in regarding all ethical propositions as defined by the fact that
they predicate a single unique objective concept; (2) in dividing such
propositions sharply into the same two kinds; (3) in holding that the
first kind are incapable of proof; and (4) with regard to the kind of
evidence which is necessary and relevant to the proof of the second
kind. But he regards the fundamental ethical concept as being, not
the simple one which I denote by ‘good,’ but the complex one which I
have taken to define ‘beautiful’; and he does not recognise, but even
denies by implication, the principle which I have called _the principle
of organic unities_. In consequence of these two differences, his
conclusions as to what things are good in themselves, also differ very
materially from mine. He agrees, however, that there are many different
goods, and that the love of good and beautiful objects constitutes an
important class among them.
[1] ‘The Origin of the Knowledge of Right and Wrong.’ By Franz
Brentano. English Translation by Cecil Hague. Constable, 1902.--I
have written a review of this book, which will, I hope, appear
in the _International Journal of Ethics_ for October, 1903. I
may refer to this review for a fuller account of my reasons for
disagreeing with Brentano.
I wish to refer to one oversight, of which I became aware only when
it was too late to correct it, and which may, I am afraid, cause
unnecessary trouble to some readers. I have omitted to discuss directly
the mutual relations of the several different notions, which are
all expressed by the word ‘end.’ The consequences of this omission
may perhaps be partially avoided by a reference to my article on
‘Teleology’ in Baldwin’s _Dictionary of Philosophy and Psychology_.
If I were to rewrite my work now, I should make a very different, and
I believe that I could make a much better book. But it may be doubted
whether, in attempting to satisfy myself, I might not merely render
more obscure the ideas which I am most anxious to convey, without a
corresponding gain in completeness and accuracy. However that may be,
my belief that to publish the book as it stands was probably the best
thing I could do, does not prevent me from being painfully aware that
it is full of defects.
TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.
_August_, 1903.
[This book is now reprinted without any alteration whatever, except
that a few misprints and grammatical mistakes have been corrected. It
is reprinted, because I am still in agreement with its main tendency
and conclusions; and it is reprinted without alteration, because I
found that, if I were to begin correcting what in it seemed to me to
need correction, I could not stop short of rewriting the whole book.
G. E. M.]
CAMBRIDGE, 1922.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
THE SUBJECT-MATTER OF ETHICS.
A.
SECTION. PAGE
=1.= In order to define Ethics, we must discover what is both
common and peculiar to all undoubted ethical judgments; 1
=2.= but this is not that they are concerned with human
conduct, but that they are concerned with a certain predicate
‘good,’ and its converse ‘bad,’ which may be applied both to
conduct and to other things. 1
=3.= The subjects of the judgments of a scientific Ethics are
not, like those of some studies, ‘particular things’; 3
=4.= but it includes all _universal_ judgments which assert
the relation of ‘goodness’ to any subject, and hence includes
Casuistry. 3
B.
=5.= It must, however, enquire not only what things are
universally related to goodness, but also, what this predicate,
to which they are related, is: 5
=6.= and the answer to this question is that it is indefinable 6
=7.= or simple: for if by definition be meant the analysis of
an object of thought, only complex objects can be defined; 7
=8.= and of the three senses in which ‘definition’ can be used,
this is the most important. 8
=9.= What is thus indefinable is not ‘the good,’ or the whole
of that which always possesses the predicate ‘good,’ but this
predicate itself. 8
=10.= ‘Good,’ then, denotes one unique simple object of thought
among innumerable others; but this object has very commonly
been identified with some other--a fallacy which may be called
‘the naturalistic fallacy’ 9
=11.= and which reduces what is used as a fundamental principle
of Ethics either to a tautology or to a statement about the
meaning of a word. 10
=12.= The nature of this fallacy is easily recognised; 12
=13.= and if it were avoided, it would be plain that the only
alternatives to the admission that ‘good’ is indefinable, are
either that it is complex or that there is no notion at all
peculiar to Ethics--alternatives which can only be refuted by
an appeal to inspection, but which can be so refuted. 15
=14.= The ‘naturalistic fallacy’ illustrated by Bentham; and
the importance of avoiding it pointed out. 17
C.
=15.= The relations which ethical judgments assert to hold
universally between ‘goodness’ and other things are of two
kinds: a thing may be asserted either to _be_ good itself or to
be causally related to something else which is itself good--to
be ‘good as a means.’ 21
=16.= Our investigations of the latter kind of relation cannot
hope to establish more than that a certain kind of action will
_generally_ be followed by the best possible results; 22
=17.= but a relation of the former kind, if true at all,
will be true of all cases. All ordinary ethical judgments
assert _causal_ relations, but they are commonly treated as
if they did not, because the two kinds of relation are not
distinguished. 23
D.
=18.= The investigation of intrinsic values is complicated by
the fact that the value of a whole may be different from the
sum of the values of its parts, 27
=19.= in which case the part has to the whole a relation, which
exhibits an equally important difference from and resemblance
to that of means to end. 29
=20.= The term ‘organic whole’ might well be used to denote
that a whole has this property, since, of the two other
properties which it is commonly used to imply, 30
=21.= one that of reciprocal causal dependence between parts,
has no necessary relation to this one, 31
=22.= and the other, upon which most stress has been laid, can
be true of no whole whatsoever, being a self-contradictory
conception due to confusion. 33
=23.= Summary of chapter. 36