IV

Nothing has been said thus far about a standard. Yet the conception of

a standard, or a measure, is so closely connected with valuation that

its consideration affords a test of the conclusions reached. It must

be admitted that the concepts of the nature of a standard pointed to

by the course of the prior discussion is not in conformity with

current conceptions. For the argument points to a standard which is

determined within the process of valuation, not outside of it, and

hence not capable of being employed ready-made, therefore, to settle

the valuing process. To many persons, this will seem absurd to the

point of self-contradiction. The prevailing conception, however, has

been adopted without examination; it is a preconception. If accepted,

it deprives judgment and knowledge of all significant import in

connection with moral action. If the standard is already given, all

that remains is its mechanical application to the case in hand--as one

would apply a yard rule to dry-goods. Genuine moral uncertainty is

then impossible; where it seems to exist, it is only a name for a

moral unwillingness, due to inherent viciousness, to recognize and

apply the rules already made and provided, or else for a moral

corruption which has enfeebled man's power of moral apprehension. When

the doctrine of standards prior to and independent of moral judgments

is accompanied by these other doctrines of original sin and

corruption, one must respect the thoroughgoing logic of the doctrine.

Such is not, however, the case with the modern theories which make the

same assumption of standards preceding instead of resulting from moral

judgments, and which ignore the question of uncertainty and error in

their apprehension. Such considerations do not, indeed, decide

anything, but they may serve to get a more unprejudiced hearing for a

hypothesis which runs counter to current theories, since it but

formulates the trend of current practices in their increasing tendency

to make the act of intelligence the central factor in morals.

Let us, accordingly, consider the alternatives to regarding the

standard of value as something evolved in the process of reflective

valuation. How can such a standard be known? Either by an a priori

method of intuition, or by abstraction from prior cases. The latter

conception throws us into the arms of hedonism. For the hedonistic

theory of the standard of value derives its logical efficiency from

the consideration that the notion of a prior and fixed standard (one

which is not determined within the situation by reflection) forces us

back upon antecedent irreducible pleasures and pains which alone are

values definite and certain enough to supply standards. They alone are

simple enough to be independent and ultimate. The apparently

common-sense alternative would be to take the "value" of prior

situations _in toto_, say, the value of an act of kindness to a

sufferer. But any such good is a function of the total unanalyzed

situation; it has, consequently, no application to a new situation

unless the new exactly repeats the old one. Only when the "good" is

resolved into simple and unalterable units, in terms of which old

situations can be equated to new ones on the basis of the number of

units contained, can an unambiguous standard be found.

The logic is unimpeachable, and points to irreducible pleasures and

pains as the standard of valuation. The difficulty is not in the logic

but in empirical facts, facts which verify our prior contention.

Conceding, for the sake of argument, that there are definite

existences such as are called pleasures and pains, they are _not_

value-objects, but are only things to be valued. Exactly the same

pleasure or pain, as an existence, has different values at different

times according to the way in which it is judged. What is the value of

the pleasure of eating the lobster as compared with the pains of

indigestion? The rule tells us, of course, to break up the pleasure

and pain into elementary units and count.[87] Such ultimate simple

units seem, however, to be about as much within the reach of ordinary

knowledge as atoms or electrons are within the grasp of the man of the

street. Their resemblance to the ultimate, neutral units which

analytic psychologists have postulated as a methodological necessity

is evident. Since the value of even such a definite entity as a

toothache varies according to the organization constructed and

presented in reflection, it is clear that ordinary empirical pleasures

and pains are highly complex.

This difficulty, however, may be waived. We may even waive the fact

that a theory which set out to be ultra-empirical is now enmeshed in

the need for making empirical facts meet dialectical requirements.

Another difficulty is too insuperable to be waived. In any case the

quantity of elementary existences which constitutes the criterion of

measurement is dependent upon the very judgment which is assumed to be

regulated by it. The standard of valuation is the units which will

_result_ from an act; they are future consequences. Now the character

of the agent judging is one of the conditions of the production of

these consequences. A callous person not only will not foresee certain

consequences, and will not be able to give them proper weight, but he

does not afford the same condition of their occurrence which is

constituted by a sensitive man. It is quite possible to employ

judgment so as to produce acts which will increase this organic

callousness. The analytic conception of the moral criterion

provides--logically--for deliberate blunting of susceptibilities. If

the matter at issue is simply one of number of units of pleasure over

pain, arrange matters so that certain pains will not, as matter of

fact, be felt. While this result may be achieved by manipulation of

extra-organic conditions, it may also be effected by rendering the

organism insensitive. Persistence in a course which in the short run

yields uneasiness and sympathetic pangs, will in the long run

eliminate these pains and leave a net pleasure balance.

This is a time-honored criticism of hedonism. My present concern with

it is purely logical. It shows that the attempt to bring over from

past objects the elements of a standard for valuing future

consequences is a hopeless one. The express object of a

valuation-judgment is to release factors which being new, cannot be

measured on the basis of the past alone. This discussion of the

analytic logic as applied in morals would, however, probably not be

worth while did it not serve to throw into relief the significance of

any appeal to fulfilment of a system or organization as _the_ moral

good--the standard. Such an appeal, if it is wary, is an appeal to the

present situation as _undergoing that reorganization that will confer

upon it the unification which it lacks_; to organization as something

to be brought about, to be made. And it is clear that this appeal

meets all the specifications of judgments of practice as they have

been described. The organization which is to be fulfilled through

action is an organization which, at the time of judging, is present in

conception, in idea--in, that is, reflective inquiry as a phase of

reorganizing activity. And since its presence in conception is both a

condition of the organization aimed at _and_ a function of the

adequacy of the reflective inquiry, it is evident that there is here a

confirmation of our statement that the practical judgment is a

judgment of what and how to judge as an integral part of the

completion of an incomplete temporal situation. More specifically, it

also appears that the standard is a rule for conducting inquiry to its

completion: it is a counsel to make examination of the operative

factors complete, a warning against suppressing recognition of any of

them. However a man may impose upon himself or upon others, a man's

real measure of value is exhibited in what he _does_, not in what he

consciously thinks or says. For the doing is the _actual_ choice. It

is the completed reflection.

It is comparatively easy at the present time in moral theory to slam

both hedonism and apriorism. It is not so easy to see the logical

implications of the alternative to them. The conception of an

organization of interests or tendencies is often treated as if it were

a conception which is definite in subject-matter as well as clear-cut

in form. It is taken not as a rule for procedure in inquiry, a

direction and a warning (which it is), but as something all of whose

constituents are already given for _knowledge_, even though not given

in fact. The act of fulfilling or realizing must then be treated as

devoid of intellectual import. It is a mere doing, not a learning and

a testing. But how can a situation which is incomplete in fact be

completely known until it _is_ complete? Short of the fulfilment of a

conceived organization, how can the conception of the proposed

organization be anything more than a working hypothesis, a method of

treating the given elements in order to see what happens? Does not

every notion which implies the possibility of an apprehension of

knowledge of the end to be reached[88] also imply either an a priori

revelation of the nature of that end, or else that organization is

nothing but a whole composed of elementary parts already given--the

logic of hedonism?

The logic of subsumption in the physical sciences meant that a given

state of things could be compared with a ready-made concept as a

model--the phenomena of the heavens with the implications of, say, the

circle. The methods of experimental science broke down this motion;

they substituted for an alleged regulative model a formula which was

the integrated function of the particular phenomena themselves, a

formula to be used as a method of further observations and experiments

and thereby tested and developed. The unwillingness to believe that,

in a similar fashion, moral standards or models can be trusted to

develop out of the specific situations of action shows how little the

general logical force of the method of science has been grasped.

Physical knowledge did not as matter of fact advance till the dogma of

models or forms as standards of knowledge had been ousted. Yet we hang

tenaciously to a like doctrine in morals for fear of moral chaos. It

once seemed to be impossible that the disordered phenomena of

perception could generate a knowledge of law and order; it was

supposed that independent principles of order must be supplied and the

phenomena measured by approach to or deviation from the fixed models.

The ordinary conception of a standard in practical affairs is a

precise analogue. Physical knowledge started on a secure career when

men had courage to start from the irregular scene and to treat the

suggestions to which it gave rise as methods for instituting new

observations and experiences. Acting upon the suggested conceptions

analyzed, extended, and ordered phenomena and thus made improved

conceptions--methods of inquiry--possible. It is reasonable to believe

that what holds moral knowledge back is above all the conception that

there are standards of good given to knowledge apart from the work of

reflection in constructing methods of action. As the bringer of bad

news gets a bad name, being made to share in the production of the

evil which he reports, so honest acknowledgment of the uncertainty of

the moral situation and of the hypothetical character of all rules of

moral mensuration prior to acting upon them, is treated as if it

originated the uncertainty and created the skepticism.

It may be contended, however, that all this does not justify the

earlier statement that the limiting situation which occasions and cuts

off judgment is not itself a value. Why, it will be asked, does a man

buy a suit of clothes unless that is a value, or at least a proximate

means to a further value? The answer is short and simple: Because he

has to; because the situation in which he lives demands it. The

answer probably seems too summary. But it may suggest that while a man

lives, he never is called upon to judge whether he shall act, but

simply _how_ he shall act. A decision not to act is a decision to act

in a certain way; it is never a judgment not to act, unqualifiedly. It

is a judgment to do something else--to wait, for example. A judgment

that the best thing to do is to retire from active life, to become a

Simon Stylites, is a judgment to act in a certain way, conditioned

upon the necessity that, irrespective of judging, a man will have to

act somehow anyway. A decision to commit suicide is not a decision to

be dead; it is a decision to perform a certain act. The act may depend

upon reaching the conclusion that life is not worth living. But as a

judgment, this is a conclusion to act in a way to terminate the

possibility of further situations requiring judgment and action. And

it does not imply that a judgment about life as a supreme value and

standard underlies all judgments as to how to live. More specifically,

it is not a judgment upon the value of life _per se_, but a judgment

that one does not find at hand the specific means of making life worth

while. As an act to be done, it falls within and assumes life. As a

judgment upon the value of life, by definition it evades the issue. No

one ever influenced a person considering committing suicide by

arguments concerning the value of life, but only by suggesting or

supplying conditions and means which make life worth living; in other

words, by furnishing _direct_ stimuli to living.

However, I fear that all this argument may only obscure a point

obvious without argument, namely, that all deliberation upon what to

do is concerned with the completion and determination of a situation

in some respect incomplete and so indeterminate. Every such situation

is specific; it is not _merely_ incomplete; the incompleteness is _of_

a specific situation. Hence the situation sets limits to the

reflective process; what is judged has reference to it and that which

limits never is judged in the particular situation in which it is

limiting. Now we have in ordinary speech a word which expresses the

nature of the conditions which limit the judgments of value. It is the

word "invaluable." The word does not mean something of supreme value

as compared with other things any more than it means something of zero

value. It means something out of the scope of valuation--something out

of the range of judgment; whatever in the situation at hand is not and

cannot be any part of the subject-matter of judgment and which yet

instigates and cuts short the judgment. It means, in short, that

judgment at some point runs against the brute act of holding something

dear as its limit.

V

The statement that values are determined in the process of judgment of

what to do (that is, in situations where preference depends upon

reflection upon the conditions and possibilities of a situation

requiring action) will be met by the objection that our practical

deliberations usually assume precedent specific values and also a

certain order or grade among them. There is a sense in which I am not

concerned to deny this. Our deliberate choices go on in situations

more or less like those in which we have previously chosen. When

deliberation has reached a valuation, and action has confirmed or

verified the conclusion, the result remains. Situations overlap. The

_m_ which is judged better than _n_ in one situation is found worse

than _l_ in another, and so on; thus a certain order of precedence is

established. And we have to broaden the field to cover the habitual

order of reflective preferences in the community to which we belong.

The valu-eds or valuables thus constituted present themselves as facts

in subsequent situations. Moreover, by the same kind of operation, the

dominating objects of past valuations present themselves as

standardized values.

But we have to note that such value-standards are only presumptive.

Their status depends, on one hand, upon the extent in which the

present situation is like the past. In a progressive or rapidly

altering social life, the presumption of identical present value is

weakened. And while it would be foolish not to avail one's self of the

assistance in present valuations of the valuables established in other

situations, we have to remember that habit operates to make us

overlook differences and presume identity where it does not exist--to

the misleading of judgment. On the other hand, the contributory worth

of past determinations of value is dependent upon the extent in which

_they_ were critically made; especially upon the extent in which the

consequences brought about through acting upon them have been

carefully noted. In other words, the presumptive force of a past value

in present judgment depends upon the pains taken with its

verification.

In any case, so far as judgment takes place (instead of the

reminiscence of a prior good operating as a direct stimulus to present

action) all valuation is in some degree a revaluation. Nietzsche would

probably not have made so much of a sensation, but he would have been

within the limits of wisdom, if he had confined himself to the

assertion that all judgment, in the degree in which it is critically

intelligent, is a transvaluation of prior values. I cannot escape

recognition that any allusion to modification or transformation of an

object through judgment arouses partisan suspicion and hostility. To

many it appears to be a survival of an idealistic epistemology. But I

see only three alternatives. Either there are no practical

judgments--as judgments they are wholly illusory; or the future is

bound to be but a repetition of the past or a reproduction of

something eternally existent in some transcendent realm (which is the

same thing logically),[89] or the object of a practical judgment is

some change, some alteration, to be brought about in the given, the

nature of the change depending upon the judgment and yet constituting

its subject-matter. Unless the epistemological realist accepts one of

the two first alternatives, he seems bound, in accepting the third, to

admit not merely that practical judgments make a difference in things

as an after-effect (this he seems ready enough to admit), but that the

import and validity of judgments is a matter of the difference thus

made. One may, of course, hold that this is just what marks the

distinction of the practical judgment from the scientific judgment.

But one who admits this fact as respects a practical judgment can no

longer claim that it is fatal to the very idea of judgment to suppose

that its proper object is some difference to be brought about in

things, and that the truth of the judgment is constituted by the

differences in consequences actually made. And a logical realist who

takes seriously the notion that moral good is a fulfilment of an

organization or integration must admit that any proposition about such

an object is prospective (for it is something _to be_ attained through

action), and that the proposition is made for the sake of furthering

the fulfilment. Let one start at this point and carry back the

conception into a consideration of other kinds of propositions, and

one will have, I think, the readiest means of apprehending the intent

of the theory that all propositions are but the propoundings of

possible knowledge, not knowledge itself. For unless one marks off the

judgment of good from other judgment by means of an arbitrary division

of the organism from the environment, or of the subjective from the

objective, no ground for any sharp line of division in the

propositional-continuum will appear.

But (to obviate misunderstanding) this does not mean that some psychic

state or act makes the difference in things. In the first place, the

subject-matter of the judgment is a change to be brought about; and,

in the second place, this subject-matter does not become an _object_

until the judgment has issued in act. It is the act which makes the

difference, but nevertheless the act is but the complete object of

judgment and the judgment is complete as a judgment only in the act.

The anti-pragmatists have been asked (notably by Professor A. W.

Moore) how they sharply distinguish between judgment--or

knowledge--and act and yet freely admit and insist that knowledge

makes a difference in action and hence in existence. This is the crux

of the whole matter. And it is a logical question. It is not a query

(as it seems to have been considered) as to how the mental can

influence a physical thing like action--a variant of the old question

of how the mind affects the body. On the contrary, the implication is

that the relation of knowledge to action becomes a problem of the

action of a mental (or logical) entity upon a physical one only when

the logical import of judgment has been misconceived. The positive

contention is that the realm of logical propositions presents in a

realm of _possibility_ the specific rearrangement of things which

overt action presents in actuality. Hence the passage of a proposition

into action is not a miracle, but the realization of its own

character--its own meaning as logical. I do not profess, of course, to

have shown that such is the case for _all_ propositions; that is a

matter which I have not discussed. But in showing the tenability of

the hypothesis that practical judgments are of that nature, I have at

least ruled out any purely dialectic proof that the _nature_ of

knowledge as such forbids entertaining the hypothesis that the

import--indirect if not direct--of all logical propositions is some

difference to be brought about. The road is at least cleared for a

more unprejudiced consideration of this hypothesis on its own merits.

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