THE SCIENTIFIC VIEW OF THE EVOLUTION OF ETHICS.
Modern thought since the publication of the "Origin of Species," has
been more and more forced into the recognition of ethics, (together with
all other forms of human conduct) as the result of a process of natural
growth. The factors out of which this growth arose are lost in the
obscurities of our ignorance, and many of the processes upon which it
has depended also surpass existing human powers of explanation. Science
has to take for granted the unexplained existence of organisms. For her
purposes she is obliged to begin by assuming certain primitive organisms
of some simple structure and functions. She is also obliged to admit,
although she does not understand, the facts of reproduction and of
heredity. Nor can she refuse to acknowledge a place in the history of
development, along with the factors of chemistry and of physics, to a
subjective factor called feeling, consciousness, mind, or however else
it may be best expressed. All these unexplainable but fundamental
verities of existence she has to assume. It is because these are
unexplained that science falls short of becoming a philosophy. But
within the range of their operation science can tell us much, and the
Darwinian doctrines have displayed before our eyes the wonderful
histories of change and growth through the preceding cycles of the
world's existence. Little doubt now remains in the minds of thoughtful
men as to the truth of biological development. The theory rests upon
such a wide induction of facts extending over so many branches of
science and over such remote periods of time, and withal as by a stroke
of magic it has so arranged all sorts of odd incomprehensible facts into
definite places in a well ordered organic history, that the mind can no
longer withhold its subjection to so imperial and cogent a scientific
conception.
Although the philosophical laws of biological development are as we have
seen beyond our reach, and although our theory of the accidental origin
of variations is rather lame, still there is much that can be expressed
in the formal statements called the Laws of Biological Development,
which throws light upon those processes of change and growth that have
led up from simple organic forms to the highest manifestation of life in
the human race. Mr. Spencer defines life as "the continuous adjustment
of inner relations to outer relations." This Mr. Spencer regards not
merely as a definition but as a law. Its philosophical justification is
sought in vain, but it may be accepted as a correct scientific
statement--not only of the non-conscious adaptations of organisms to
changes of the environment, (such as the thickening of the fur to resist
arctic cold, or protective change of colour to imitate physical
surroundings,) but also of the conscious adaptations by which higher
animals perform particular actions or undergo changes of habit.
As Mr. Spencer points out, the acceptance of this law implies not merely
an entire harmony between the existence of an organism and its
environment, but it also implies various degrees of life. The greater
the number and variety of correspondences established between an
organism and the immensities of the external world--immensities
displayed not only in the multiplicities of individual objects, but also
in the grandeur of their collective interrelations--the greater the
degree of life. Much stress is laid by Mr. Spencer upon this
Quantitative character of Life. Much more, indeed, than upon mere
continuity, although the latter is to a certain extent essential to the
former. Subordinate to this notion, advance in degree of life is found
to proceed from a simple, incoherent, and indefinite life to a more and
more definite, coherent and complex set of relations with the
environment.
But side by side with this development, and indeed in a manner to be
likened to that of a geometrical progression, the subjective factor has
advanced in relative importance. In its more rudimentary development,
Mr. Spencer finds pain to be the concomitant of those states of the
physical organism which tend to its destruction, and pleasure to be the
concomitant of those states which tend to its promotion. Thus hunger is
a pain indicative of the absence of those supplies of energy to be
obtained from the environment, which are requisite for the continuance
of the organism's activity, while the pleasure of feeding is concomitant
with the due supply of the energy necessary for the continuance of
organic function. Pleasure and pain, therefore, become motives, and the
attainment of the one and the avoidance of the other work together for
the continuance of life. Pleasures and pains are relative to the
organism--according to the physiological constitution and structure of
the organism so are its pleasures and its pains.
The concomitant of some of the structures and functions of the organism
has been not merely sentiency but perception. Mind has developed from
the distinguishment, identification, and recognition of modes of
sentiency. These functions and structures have been accompanied by
pleasure and pain, and have formed the basis of the pleasures of
intellectual activity in their multiform variety. From their very nature
in relation to the environment they have increased wonderfully the
quantitative development of life.
With the increase of mind has proceeded the recognition of the part
played in the organic universe by feeling. This recognition of the
existence of feeling--of the susceptibilities of external organisms to
pleasure and pain--has formed the basis of a large part of the
adaptations of organisms in relation to their organic environment.
Adaptations revealing this recognition are to be seen not only more
manifestly in the actions of man and the animals, but also in the
functions of plants, strange as this may seem.
With this increase of general intelligence has proceeded an increase of
rational knowledge of the causal relationships of phenomena: and with
the increase of the knowledge of human motives has proceeded an
increased knowledge of the sequences of actions. Thus larger rational
judgments of the consequences of actions have been attained.
Following upon the increased recognition of pleasure and pain as
motives, and upon the increased amount of rational judgment as to the
sequences of actions, has come the adaptation of conduct to the pains
and pleasures of others. Those adaptations have, however, been relative
to the particular constitution of the Ego, and relative also to the
constitution of the environing Egos.
The knowledge of the existence of sentiency in external organisms may be
turned to the account of the Ego by inflicting pain, so as to coerce
other sentient organisms to its own selfish objects; or, again, by
conferring pleasure, so as to subserve the same end. Thus cruelty may be
a natural pleasure in certain early stages of development, as a
concomitant of necessities of existence, and may remain by inheritance
long after the necessities have passed away. But with the increase of
life has occurred the increase of sympathy. It is a law of nature that
after the pleasures of the ego are satisfied they are augmented by the
contemplation of similar enjoyments of others. But this again is
relative. The gourmand likes the society of gourmands, and cares not for
the company of the æsthetic or the ascetic. The man of taste revels in
the society of kindred natures and despises the pleasures of the base.
But the family relation has been the main source of all sweet and manly
sympathies: and it has been the gradually widening scope of social
organisations which has spread more and more the feeling of human
sympathy. The course of history exhibits to us a constant growth, not
merely in passively refraining from the infliction of pain, but also in
the active endeavour to promote the happiness of our fellow creatures.
This is a general statement of the scientific view of purposed conduct.
Its laws are derived from a study of its growth. The growth is one
exhibiting several distinguishable features. There has been the ordinary
biological "struggle for existence," and "survival of the fittest."
There have been adaptations necessitated by the action of the
environment, and there have been chance variations within the lines of
causation which, benefitting the individual or some particular race,
have given them such an advantage in the battle of life as to secure for
their descendants a preponderating possession of the good things of the
world. There has been the increase of intelligence, the increase in the
organisation of society, the increase of rational judgments of phenomena
and human actions. There has been increased knowledge of the
determination of actions by motives. There has been increase of
sympathy.
But what is the ethical virtue of this historical study is not very
clear. The history of human developments is a matter of natural history
and no more. And even if we proceed as we might do, to study more in
detail the history of the development of notions of right and wrong and
of the various changeful applications of those terms, we are still
within the limits of a natural history--we are still holding the merely
scientific or observant attitude. It is true such study may be essential
to our future history: but the mere study of what has been, and the
consequent pre-vision of what will be, establishes no rule of right. To
prophecy the determining courses of future human conduct does not
furnish an ethical imperative to the individual. "If so it will be," he
may say, "so let it be, it is no affair of mine. The obligation rests
with nature and not with me." Whence then the new "regulative system,"
the want of which fills Mr. Spencer with alarm? Where shall we look for
the new gospel which shall restrain and vivify the moral conduct of
future generations in place of the supernatural systems which are
supposed to be tottering to their fall?
And if we go beyond this and find that this natural history of man is
governed by general laws of adaptation and development we shall still
have to question the ethical discernment and ethical authority in
special junctures, when what is--is judged not to be what it ought to
be; when, in fact, adaptations or biological facts, or equilibrations
produced by evolution, are judged not to be ethically good
equilibrations.
However, Mr. Spencer holds that rules of right conduct can be
established on a scientific basis, and it is our task to examine his
treatment of the problem.
"Though this first division of the work terminating the Synthetic
Philosophy, cannot, of course, contain the specific conclusions to be
set forth in the entire work; yet it implies them in such wise that,
definitely to formulate them requires nothing beyond logical deduction.
"I am the more anxious to indicate in outline if I cannot complete this
final work, because the establishment of rules of right conduct on a
scientific basis is a pressing need. Now that moral injunctions are
losing the authority given by their supposed sacred origin, the
secularization of morals is becoming imperative. Few things can happen
more disastrous than the decay and death of a regulative system, no
longer fit, before another and fitter regulative system has grown up to
replace it. Most of those who reject the current creeds, appear to
assume that the controlling agency furnished by it may be safely thrown
aside, and the vacancy left unfilled by any other controlling agency.
Meanwhile, those who defend the current creeds allege that in the
absence of the guidance it yields, no guidance can exist; divine
commandments they think the only possible guides. Thus between these
extreme opponents there is a certain community. The one holds that the
gap left by disappearance of the code of supernatural ethics, need not
be filled by a code of natural ethics; and the other holds that it
cannot be so filled. Both contemplate a vacuum which the one wishes and
the other fears. As the change which promises or threatens to bring
about this state, desired or dreaded, is rapidly progressing, those who
believe that the vacuum can be filled, are called on to do something in
pursuance of their belief."[8]
It is clear, from the above passage, that Mr. Spencer seeks not merely a
knowledge of the laws of past developments, which have landed us in our
present position with regard to moral obligation in general and the
varied social regulations extant in different societies, but he seeks in
addition to strengthen and establish on a new basis the authority of all
such obligations. What Mr. Spencer hopes for is a practical end. He
seeks the art of good living. As there are sciences of chemistry,
metallurgy, electricity, etc., and arts consequent upon them, so he
looks for Rules of Life which shall benefit humanity, consequent upon
the Science of Humanity. But it is a question whether the Moral
Imperative can be regarded as the result of science. However, if not the
result, yet science may be able to discern that the Moral Imperative is
so firmly established in human nature, that it may be able to proclaim
loudly its empire in the heart and over the actions of man; while at the
same time Science may be able to guide it to wiser and better judgments.
The task we have before us is to pursue Mr. Spencer's course of
thought, undertaken in this spirit, through the succeeding chapters of
his work. Neglecting minor criticisms and passing over much valuable
teaching, our business is to follow the main course of his reasoning and
examine the chief grounds for such authority and guidance which he
finally presents to us as the outcome of his study.
FOOTNOTE:
[8] Introduction to "Data of Ethics," p. 3.