THE ACTION-PATTERNS IMPLIED BY THE WORD “BAD,” WITH A NOTE ON THE
PHYSIOLOGY OF “EVIL”
“It is noteworthy that there has never been a problem of good,
but always a problem of evil. Man takes the good in his life for
granted, while he bewails the presence of evil in all its forms.
May not reality be of such a character that evil is as natural as
good?”
R. W. SELLARS, “The Next Step in Religion,” pp. 153-5.
Good and bad, or good and evil, have from the most ancient times been
held to be diametrical and thoroughgoing opposites of each other. In
the system of Zoroaster this antithesis is metaphorically projected
into the remotest heavens, where Mazda, the God of Light, whose
deeds were goodness itself, endlessly strove to annihilate Angra,
the tireless perpetrator of deceit. The Christian mythologists, in a
characteristic imitation of pagan creeds, loved to imagine a final
Day of Judgment, when the mild, spotless followers of the Lamb were
to be rewarded by an eternal separation from the sooty henchmen of
Satan. Similar conceptions, though none of them nearly so poetic,
have tinged the thought of every subsequent era. Most of us are
familiar with Milton’s fabulous version of the theology of the Middle
Ages, in which God the Father is depicted as struggling against the
powers of darkness, not, however, by sending irresistible cohorts to
besiege and conquer Hell, but rather by counteracting their insidious
propaganda in the playground of Adam’s Eden. Indeed, one has but to
learn to read the simplest literature in any language to realize
how much of what is called thinking consists simply in devising
contrasts and antitheses. It is the orator’s chief _tour de force_,
the historian’s commonplace, the dramatist’s all-important method of
producing a plot, and, in fact, without it, no literature would seem
to give an adequate picture of the realities of human life. Small
wonder then, that in the philosophy of Empedocles, the world-view
of Zoroaster, and the theology of Christendom, this stereotyped
way of thinking, originating in and generated by the physics and
physiology of man’s musculature, should be manifest; or that the
common man should so readily and persistently hold to the diametrical
opposition between good and bad, and right and wrong. The law of
reciprocal innervation, being implicit in the body’s architecture, is
necessarily a basic formula for man’s thought.
Even though this be admitted, it guides us only a little ways through
the tangle of ethical problems. In the first place, no such dramatic
portrayal as, for example, that of Zoroaster,—whatever theatrical
agonies it might provoke,—has either reduced the sum of the world’s
distresses, or furnished the least insight into the nature of the
supposed opposites of goodness. For that matter, indeed, very little
knowledge of this character has arisen out of ethical debate or
speculation. The assumptions have been many, the facts few; and
usually, whenever this discrepancy has been realized, overdrafts
have been written on the phantom bank of theory with the vain hope
that by this means ethical solvency could be attained. In the second
place, it has scarcely occurred to any one to ask whether there was
not some other way of looking at the ethical problem than in this
duplex manner, for if an irreconcilable opposition in the field of
ethics is assumed as a fundamental principle, nothing but an eternal
deadlock can result in the conclusion. Now the empirical fact is that
man’s muscles (the functions of which determine his thoughts), can do
other things than oppose and counteract each other, for every day of
our lives we see these other motor activities manifested. However,
our traditional ethical theory would have it that the dilemma is
inescapable,—that things are either good or bad, or actions either
right or wrong, and people either virtuous or vicious, and that
there is no middle ground, or possibility of reconciliation. Mark,
however, that only in serious pathological cases do we observe a
complete rigidity of the body due to chronic muscular antagonisms.
Is it not therefore a valid inference that the mental rigidity
of most adherents to the bi-polar theory in ethics is likewise a
pathological sign, and, if so, are we not driven to the conclusion
that man’s traditional ethical notions are symptoms of physiological
malfunctioning?
Important as all this is, however, it cannot turn us aside from our
interest in finding out just to what an extent the word “bad” is a
real antonym to the word “good,” especially since knowledge of this
sort is first necessary before we can employ the method of science in
the service of the problems of human conduct. Let us, then, resume
our original search.
The term “bad” is a gestural sign which we employ in two different
senses,—to point out a deficiency or lack, (that is, to indicate
merely the _absence of_ good), and in a positive sense, to hint
the presence of something definitely _antagonistic to_ good. By an
analogy, if money is a good, we should call it “bad” in the privative
sense of the term for one to be without it; while it is “bad” in
the positive sense for one to be deeply in debt. But even while we
ponder these two behavior situations, they tend, at least partly, to
coalesce, very much indeed as Classes A and B of “good” merged at
times imperceptibly into one another. For if the man who is without
money, but not in debt, passionately desires to purchase and spend,
he will immediately place himself in the class of debtors, and
experience therewith the positive form of “badness,” at least so far
as his feelings of inhibition are concerned. However, just to what
an extent these two categories of “bad” may be identified cannot be
shown until we have first reviewed the separate uses to which this
term is put,[8] and have also deduced the action-patterns which it
implies.
It can be divined at once from a careful perusal of this brief array,
herewith subjoined, that the concept “bad” is, on the whole, a far
less variegated symbol than is the concept “good.” Its use is more
restricted, its connotation is less rich in variety, and, as can be
already predicted, the number of separate classes into which our
array may be distributed is fewer than was the case with the term
“good.” For while we have here hints of three classes which are,
roughly speaking, negatives of Classes A, B, and C of “good,” we have
nothing at all comparable to the negatives of Classes D and E. To
wit:—
Class A. That which is useless, unfit, unserviceable, and the like,
for any purpose whatever.
Class B. That which brings pain, discomfort, loss, or death. In some
respects this class is the negative of Class B of “good,” having the
general meaning of _undependable_. However, it is not the negative of
every shade of meaning implied by that class, as can at once be seen
when we consider that there are no “bads” which are the antitheses of
goods, that is, property. For, as we have already observed, even some
debts are _good_ debts.
Class C. That which disappoints expectation.[9] Here also the
negation is limited, for while with Class C of “good” the tone of the
voice could convey an immense variety of meanings, here no such great
array of nuances is found.
In consideration, then, of what has just preceded, we may
emphatically deny that “bad” is a true antonym of the word “good.”
Not only is this to be instantly deduced from the array of uses to
which these terms are put, but also from the contents of the five
classes of “good” and the three classes of “bad.” We shall presently
discover whether “evil,” as an adjunct of the concept “bad,” makes up
this discrepancy.
Resuming, then, our main theme, how shall we proceed to define
privative and positive “bad” in physiological terms, and by what
means shall we discover the action-patterns which are implied by the
three classes of “bad” which we have just delimited?
In general, and from the reader’s own experience, “bad” means
thwarting, inhibition, opposition, the interruption of action, the
durable dissatisfactions of life. We need, however, to come at the
matter a little more closely. In the preceding chapter we saw that
when we are ready to act, the stimulus that elicits the reaction for
which we are keyed up is called “good.” Employing the methods of
inductive science, with our eye on the behavior possibilities of the
human organism, we find the following stimulus-response situations
adequate to reveal the origin of the word “bad.”
1. When we are ready to act in some precise manner, but no stimulus,
that is, opportunity, is afforded for such action, the term “bad”
adequately describes the situation. Here it becomes a gestural sign
which may point either to the environment or to the organism. It is
for this reason that a man in debt, hungry, and in want is said to
be “in a _bad_ way”; while in his predicament counterfeit money and
tainted food would be unequivocally bad.
2. When we are ready to act, but are prevented from releasing the
energy we have mobilized because the stimulus is inadequate, and
does not call forth the exact response which we have been preparing
to make, the situation may again be described as “bad.” “That’s too
bad,” we sometimes say of a suit of clothes which, while adequately
keeping out the winter’s cold, does not quite fit the shoulders.
3. When we are _unready_, to act in a certain way, but are summarily
called upon to mobilize our energy for this purpose, the situation
is again often described as “bad.” Unexpected, excess taxes always
produce an emotional situation specifically related to this value
predicate.
4. Any inadequate response, in other words, one that is faulty,
erroneous, and the like, may be called “bad.” Sometimes, also, the
person making such a response is described by the same term.
From this it appears that the general meaning of “bad” is within
the scope of our discovery. Not only is this deducible from our
previous identification of this concept with the _useless_, the
_independable_, and with _that which disappoints_, but it is also
plainly foreshadowed by the four behavior situations we have just
described. “Bad” seems to imply that action, interest, purpose, and
the like, have been thwarted; that the organism has become a center
of inhibitions, and is in discomfort either because the energy which
it has mobilized cannot be released into action, or because demands
for such release cannot be met. Such a physiological condition is
best described as _incoordinate_. And this term covers all three of
our classes of “bad.” Moreover, by partial contrast with _good_,
“bad” implies a _withdrawing reaction_, with either a slump in
muscular tone (in which case we have _privative_ “bad”), or else a
sudden onset of unrelieved tensions—(_positive_ “bad”). Accompanying
such a condition, we may safely postulate synaptic impermeability
and inhibition, together with varying degrees of unpleasant strain
sensations. But mark, that we do not say that the “bad” is always
equivalent to the painful.
Were physiological science sufficiently advanced, it would be
possible for us to complete our definition of badness in terms of the
mal-functioning of such internal systems as the alimentary canal,
the cardiac, respiratory, and excretory mechanisms, and the endocrine
glands. Our common experience indubitably indicates that all forms
of thwarting and inhibition which prompt our exclamations, react
violently upon the internal machinery. Indeed, it is not too much to
claim that both the centrifugal and centripetal types of behavior
which are implied by the terms “good” and “bad” respectively just
as often as not have their source in the postures and manœuvres of
our organic interior. That is, brief to say, why the healthy man and
the dyspeptic, the optimist and the pessimist, will give precisely
opposite accounts of the same external world. We remarked before that
speech not only points out and distinguishes objects for us, but
also implies and predicts human activities. Our analysis of good and
bad fortifies this thesis beyond contradiction, and shows that any
value predicate that has a specific reference to the environment has
specific implications for the organism as well.
_The Physiology of “Evil”_
In some minds the term “evil” has primarily what is called a
_moral_ signification, and implies first and foremost anything
“contrary to an accepted standard of righteousness,” or anything
“inconsistent with or violating the moral law”; and consequently,
it is equivalent to the terms “sinful” and “wicked.” Let us not
meet such minds too intimately. Speaking in this fashion is not only
vague, but misleading as well. For when duly examined, almost every
so-called “standard of righteousness” becomes a totally unspecific
category of behavior, while the term “moral law” is not _law_ in
any dependable sense of the term at all. Certainly it is not a law
of nature,—of human nature,—for it does not adequately describe any
typical behavior situations. Neither is it law to a jurist, since
there is no organized force that can be brought to bear upon human
beings to compel them to obey it in their actions, much less in
their thinking. Moreover, the terms “sinful” and “wicked” are so
narrow and provincial and so exclusively employed by religionists “to
pelt their adversaries with,” that their equivalence to “evil” as
a term of value in the broadest ethical sense is, to say the least
of it, problematical. Whether unfortunately or not, none of the
purely _moral_ categories are fundamental for an understanding of
the actual behavior of human beings. Indeed, as a usual thing, they
hint uncritical and disorderly thinking in him who uses them, rather
than specify any intelligent and sympathetic appreciation of human
interests, or any analytical insight into the environment which now
thwarts and now furthers such interests.
And now to our analysis. The term “evil” is much more assertive
than is the word “bad,” and more forceful than all but a few
significations of the word “good.” It originally had the adverbial
force of _up_ or _over_, two words whose empathic significance is
worthy of remark. Today the term “evil” signifies either (a) “that
which exceeds due measure,” or (b) “that which oversteps proper
limits.” Here, then, we notice at the outset that “evil,” unlike
either good or bad, always carries with it the presumption of
standards or rules.
To a large extent the place in the language formerly occupied by
the term “evil” is now held by the term “bad.” With the reasons for
this change we are not especially concerned here, although it may be
appropriate to point out that the popularity of any term that has
been used almost exclusively by religionists for purposes of anathema
is doomed. Besides, the word “evil” calls up literary associations
which condemn it to modern minds. Such expressions as “The Evil One”
(that is, the Devil of the Middle Ages), the “evil eye” (another
outworn superstition), the “King’s Evil,” and a dozen other equally
obsolete terms have fallen into such low repute that they have
weakened, so to speak, the gestural significance of the remnants
of this concept. Nevertheless, it must be admitted that there is
far more dramatic vocal quality attaching to the term “evil” than
to either of the words “good” or “bad.” Few words in the language
provide such an opportunity as does this one for the simultaneous
display of eye-, lip-, and jaw-gestures, whose combined effects are
none the less striking, no matter how empathically unpleasant they
have become. We invite you to stand before the mirror, and say the
word “evil” with clenched teeth and canines showing, and verify this
remark.
While the term “evil” is employed as an adjective, a noun, and an
adverb, we do not need to stop here to catalogue its uses under
these three headings. All we need to consider is that “evil” is an
intensification of “bad” in the positive sense of that term.[10] It
is also a forceful negative of Class B of good, in the sense that
it implies _that which actively operates to produce incoordination,
mal-adjustment, discomfort, and the like_. It will be recalled
that Class B of “good” included whatever conduced to life, health,
pleasure, and stability. On the contrary, “evil” is a gestural sign
that indicates any and all processes of disintegration, disruption,
and confusion. It at once implies something which is energetically
antagonistic to our purposes.
The definition of evil in mechanistic terms is now within our
reach. We have said before that “evil” is an intensification of the
term “bad,” which latter term was used to describe an incoordinate
condition of the organism brought about because its wishes,
interests, and purposes,—in a word, its action-patterns,—had been
thwarted. Just what more than this does “evil” imply? _It implies
that our wishes have been thwarted to such an extent as to call
forth from us the most energetic, antagonistic reactions of which
we are capable._ “Good” signifies an outgoing reaction, “bad”
signifies a withdrawing reaction, while “evil” means that within the
organism some of the available energies are being hastily mobilized
to compensate for an outgoing reaction that has been thwarted. Of
course, there are many persons who never attempt any compensation of
such a constructive character as to prevent the recurrence of the
same evil situation, either because they are physically unfit, or are
poor in spirit, but in such cases the word “evil” is used without
very much meaning.
Our definition of this concept will, I think, serve to provide a
new interpretation of the statement made previously, namely, that
“evil always carries with it the presumption of standards or rules.”
What, precisely, does this statement mean? It means that whenever
we have lost our organic equilibrium in the presence of a situation
described as _evil_, whatever we do to recover it _ipso facto_ at
that moment defines not only the standard and rule by which our
conduct is regulated, but such behavior also reveals to others just
what the “problem of evil” really means to us. For example, if we
are vexed and become profane, profanity is patently an integral
factor in our philosophy of compensation. If we lose our money, and
steal another’s to make good our loss, theft is a cardinal principle
in our doctrine of equalization. We may, to be sure, immediately
thereafter lament the outburst by which we attempted to “set things
to rights,” but we cannot retrieve the action by which we defined
and exhibited our practical ethical philosophy. Our recent Emerson
had this scientific truth in mind when he said, “What you are speaks
so loud, I cannot hear what you say.” Examples of another sort
are equally illuminating. If Socrates is condemned to death for
corrupting the Athenian youth, and calmly drinks the hemlock in order
to remain a law-abiding citizen to the end, this deed of probity
defines the dominant action-pattern in his philosophy of retaliation.
If Jesus is crucified for blasphemy and inciting to insurrection,
and manifests an attitude of non-resistance and equanimity, these
action-patterns once more exhibit his method of dealing with the
problem of evil. In every such case the bodily habits which have long
accumulated are automatically released by the appropriate stimulus
into overt behavior. In physiological terms, what a man does in
response to evil, shows what sort of reciprocal innervations his
body has acquired. And while such a mechanistic interpretation of an
ethical standard may seem astonishing, yet such a _modus agendi_ is,
unless we are greatly deceived, the one which human beings actually
employ, and consequently it is the only one which has any place in an
empirical science of conduct.
_A Further Remark on the Opposites of “Good”_
From our definition of “evil” as an intensification of “bad” in the
positive sense of that term, it can at once be noted that these two
words do not even together supply a thoroughgoing antonym to the
word “good.” For they do not strictly imply action-patterns which in
the minute and fine are opposed to those underlying all the valid
uses of the word “good.” It is not to the point that “in general”
(which can only mean here _vaguely_) these words are antithetical
to each other; our analysis has produced knowledge that henceforth
discounts all such remarks. And, if anyone says that for the purposes
of morality, the traditional antithesis is still valid, the answer is
that morality, after all, is only custom, while ethics is primarily
a critical insight into that reality which the moralist has always
sought to make obscure.
A more important conclusion, however, is still to be drawn from the
foregoing analysis. Which is, that “evil” is not, as has usually been
concluded, an opposite of “good.” Indeed, if we have described the
situation fairly, when we say that ‘evil denotes that our wishes have
been thwarted to such an extent as to call forth from us the most
energetic, antagonistic reactions of which we are capable,’ we can
only deduce from this that the antagonistic reactions are aroused for
the purpose of replacing something that is “bad” by something that is
“good.” But if this be the case, then the emphatic quality attaching
to the word “evil” is really a sign that we have already started an
outgoing reaction that shall furnish the desired compensation. This
two-fold meaning of the word “evil” is worthy of more than a passing
remark, but suffice it to say that in the light of what has gone
before, the “problem of evil” now becomes the problem of educating a
man how to replace the “bad” with the “good,” rather than a problem
over which the metaphysician may dawdle or the moralist mope.
FOOTNOTES:
[8]
THE USES OF THE WORD “BAD”
I. _The Privative Significations of the Word “Bad.”_
1. Bad air; vitiated, which cannot sustain healthy respiration.
2. Bad coin; debased, counterfeit.
3. Bad food; deficient in nourishment.
4. Bad food; repugnant on account of its smell or taste, whether
deficient in nourishment or not.
5. Bad shot or guess; incorrect, faulty, below standard or par.
6. Bad debts; those which cannot or are not expected to be paid. 7.
To go bad; to decay.
8. Bad workmanship; defective, below par, sometimes called poor or
worthless.
9. In a bad way; in a wretched or miserable state, unfortunate,
unfavorable.
10. With a bad grace; unwillingly.
II. _The Positive Significations of the Word “Bad.”_
1. Bad air; noxious, poisonous.
2. Bad food or water; injurious to health, hurtful, dangerous,
pernicious.
3. Bad company; depraved, wicked, vicious.
4. Bad fit (as of a shoe); causing inconvenience, displeasure, or
pain.
5. Bad smell; unpleasant, offensive, disagreeable, troublesome,
painful.
6. “Bad blood”; harsh, angry feeling.
7. In bad health; suffering from disease or injury, (in pain).
8. “To the bad”; to ruin, in deficit.
9. “In bad” (slang); spoken of a man who has made trouble for
himself and others.
[9] In passing, it might be pertinent to consider the question as to
whether the word “bad” _is_ synonymous with ‘that which disappoints
expectation.’ One might ask, for example, “Do not chronic pessimists
literally expect catastrophe?” Here, as elsewhere, we must not be
deceived by a trick of speech. For he who says, “I expect disaster,”
is unwittingly making an equivocal statement. The man who makes such
a remark cannot be implying that his whole body, with its numerous
action-patterns, is completely set to receive the stimulus that will
demolish his equilibrium. Rather should we infer from this utterance
that he is at least partly prepared to resist it, partly to rejoice
at the incident discomfiture to others, with the hope thereby of
making his own troubles dwindle by comparison, and perhaps also
partly anticipating the relief that will come when the suspense
of waiting is over. None of these interpretations disallow the
formulation of any of the above classes of “bad.” To be sure, there
are certain abnormal types, like the sadist and the masochist, to
whom pain is an erotic stimulus, but even so, their expectations are
always directed to that particular element of the situation which, by
affording an outgoing reaction, is for them a “good.”
[10]
THE SIGNIFICATIONS OF THE TERM “EVIL”
1. That which causes or increases harm, injury, misfortune, or
disease.
2. Such advice as is misleading, mischievous, or disastrous.
3. Any wish whose fulfilment would lead to calamity, trouble, or
death.
4. Any abusive, malicious, or slanderous statement, (compare
“_evil_ tongue”).
5. Any period of time characterized by misfortune or suffering.
6. The term “evil” is also used in special senses, such as in the
expression “social evil” (that is, prostitution). But such a use of
this word, being special and more or less provincial, should not be
over-emphasized in our definition. There are, moreover, many other
social evils than prostitution, and some producing far more ethical
disaster.