Facts, but Also Puts the Theory of Morality upon a Solid Basis.=--We
know what we mean by goodness and evil when we discuss them in terms of
results achieved or missed, and can therefore discuss them intelligibly.
We can formulate concrete ends and lay down rules for their attainment.
Thus there can be a science of morals just as there can be a science of
any body of observable facts having a common principle. But if morality
depends upon purely subjective, personal motives, no objective
observation and common interpretation are possible. We are thrown back
upon the capricious individual _ipse dixit_, which by this theory is
made final. Ethical theory is rendered impossible. Thus Bentham, who
brings these charges (and others) against the "virtue" theory of
goodness, says at the close of the preface to his _Principles of Morals
and Legislation_ (ed. of 1823):
"Truths that form the basis of political and moral science are not
to be discovered but by investigations as severe as mathematical
ones, and beyond all comparison more intricate and extensive....
They are not to be forced into detached and general propositions,
unincumbered with explanations and exceptions. They will not
compress themselves into epigrams. They recoil from the tongue and
the pen of the declaimer. They flourish not in the same soil with
sentiment. They grow among thorns; and are not to be plucked, like
daisies, by infants as they run.... There is no _King's Road_ ...
to legislative, any more than to mathematical science."[119]
Arguments not unlike, however, may be adduced in favor of the attitude
theory.
=1. It, and It Alone, Places Morality in the High and Authoritative
Place Which by Right Characterizes It.=--Morality is not just a means of
reaching other ends; it is an end in itself. To reduce virtue to a tool
or instrumentality for securing pleasure is to prostitute and destroy
it. Unsophisticated common sense is shocked at putting morality upon the
same level with prudence, policy, and expediency. Morality is morality,
just because it possesses an absolute authoritativeness which they lack.
=2. The Morally Good Must be Within the Power of the Individual to
Achieve.=--The amount of pleasure and pain the individual experiences,
his share of satisfaction, depends upon outward circumstances which are
beyond his control, and which accordingly have no moral significance.
Only the beginning, the willing, of an act lies with the man; its
conclusion, its outcome in the way of consequences, lies with the gods.
Accident, misfortune, unfavorable circumstance, may shut the individual
within a life of sickness, misery, and discomfort. They may deprive him
of external goods; but they cannot modify the moral good, for that
resides in the attitude with which one faces these conditions and
results. Conditions hostile to prosperity may be only the means of
calling forth virtues of bravery, patience, and amiability. Only
consequences within character itself, the tendency of an act to form a
habit or to cultivate a disposition, are really of moral significance.
=3. Motives Furnish a Settled and Workable Criterion by Which to Measure
the Rightness or Wrongness of Specific Acts.=--Consequences are
indefinitely varied; they are too much at the mercy of the unforeseen to
serve as basis of measurement. One and the same act may turn out in a
hundred different ways according to accidental circumstances. If the
individual had to calculate consequences before entering upon action, he
would engage in trying to solve a problem where each new term introduced
more factors. No conclusion would ever be reached; or, if reached, would
be so uncertain that the agent would be paralyzed by doubt. But since
the motives are within the person's own breast, the problem of knowing
the right is comparatively simple: the data for the judgment are always
at hand and always accessible to the one who sincerely wishes to know
the right.
=Conclusion.=--The fact that common life recognizes, under certain
conditions, both theories as correct, and that substantially the same
claims may be made for both, suggests that the controversy depends upon
some underlying misapprehension. Their common error, as we shall attempt
to show in the sequel, lies in trying to split a voluntary act which is
single and entire into two unrelated parts, the one termed "inner," the
other, "outer"; the one called "motive," the other, "end." A voluntary
act is always a disposition, or habit of the agent _passing into an
overt act_, which, so far as it can, produces certain consequences. A
"mere" motive which does not do anything, which makes nothing different,
is not a genuine motive at all, and hence is not a voluntary act. On the
other hand, consequences which are not intended, which are not
personally wanted and chosen and striven for, are no part of a voluntary
act. _Neither the inner apart from the outer, nor the outer apart from
the inner, has any voluntary or moral quality at all. The former is mere
passing sentimentality or reverie; the latter is mere accident or luck._
=Tendency of Each Theory to Pass into the Other.=--Hence each theory,
realizing its own onesidedness, tends inevitably to make concessions,
and to borrow factors from its competitor, and thus insensibly to bridge
the gap between them. Consequences are emphasized, but only _foreseen_
consequences; while to _foresee_ is a mental act whose exercise depends
upon character. It is disposition, interest, which leads an agent to
estimate the consequences at their true worth; thus an upholder of the
"content" theory ends by falling back upon the _attitude_ taken in
forecasting and weighing results. In like fashion, the representative of
the motive theory dwells upon the tendency of the motive to bring about
certain effects. The man with a truly benevolent disposition is not the
one who indulges in indiscriminate charity, but the one who considers
the effect of his gift upon its recipient and upon society. While
lauding the motive as the sole bearer of moral worth, the motive is
regarded as a force working towards the production of certain _results_.
When the "content" theory recognizes disposition as an inherent factor
in bringing about consequences, and the "attitude" theory views motives
as forces tending to effect consequences, an approximation of each to
the other has taken place which almost cancels the original opposition.
It is realized that a complete view of the place of motive in a
voluntary act will conceive motive as a motor force; as inspiring to
action which will inevitably produce certain results unless this is
prevented by superior external force. It is also realized that only
_those_ consequences are any part of voluntary behavior which are so
congenial to character as to appeal to it as good and stir it to effort
to realize them. _We may begin the analysis of a voluntary act at
whichever end we please, but we are always carried to the other end in
order to complete the analysis._ The so-called distinction between the
"inner" and "outer" parts of an act is in reality a distinction between
the _earlier_ and the _later_ period of its development.
In the following chapter we shall enter upon a direct discussion of the
relation of conduct and character to one another; we shall then apply
the results of the discussion, in successive chapters, to the problems
already raised: The Nature of Good; of Knowledge; of Moral Authority;
The Relation of the Self to Others and Society; The Characteristics of
the Virtuous Self.
LITERATURE
Many of the references in ch. xi. trench upon this ground. Compare,
also, Lecky, _History of European Morals_, Vol. I., pp. 1-2, and
122-130; Sidgwick, _Methods of Ethics_, pp. 6-11, 77-88 and 494-507;
Wundt, _Ethics_, Vol. II., ch. iv.; Mackenzie, _Manual of Ethics_, Book
II., ch. ii.; Murray, _Introduction to Ethics_, p. 143; Paulsen, _System
of Ethics_, Introduction, and Book II., ch. i.
FOOTNOTES:
[110] Spencer, _Principles of Ethics_, Vol. I., p. 46, and p. 30.
(Italics not in original.)
[111] Green, _Prolegomena to Ethics_, p. 354.
[112] Hegel's _Philosophy of Right_, translated by Dyde, Part III., 150
(p. 159).
[113] Hegel's _Philosophy of Right_, translated by Dyde, Part III., 258
(p. 241).
[114] _Werke_, Book I., 389.
[115] The Greek words [Greek: edone], pleasure, and [Greek: eudaimonia],
happiness. The latter conception is due chiefly to Aristotle. Happiness
is, however, a good translation only when taken very vaguely. The Greek
term has a peculiar origin which influenced its meaning.
[116] The differences as regards self and society will be considered in
later chapters.
[117] For similar reasons, the "content" theories tend to ally
themselves with the positive sciences; the "attitude" theories with
philosophy as distinct from sciences.
[118] "Suppose that picking a man's pocket excited in him joyful
emotions, by brightening his prospects, would theft be counted among
crimes?"--SPENCER.
[119] Mill in his _Autobiography_ has given a striking account of how
this phase of Utilitarianism appealed to him. (See pp. 65-67 of London
edition of 1874; see also his _Dissertations and Discussions_, Vol. I.,
Essay on Bentham, especially pp. 339 and ff.) Bentham "introduced into
morals and politics those habits of thought, and modes of investigation,
which are essential to the idea of science; and the absence of which
made these departments of inquiry, as physics had been before Bacon, a
field of interminable discussion, leading to no result. It was not his
_opinions_, in short, but his _method_, that constituted the novelty and
value of what he did.... Bentham's method may be shortly described as
the method of _detail_.... Error lurks in generalities."
Mill finally says: "He has thus, it is not too much to say, for the
first time introduced precision of thought in moral and political
philosophy. Instead of taking up their opinions by intuition, or by
ratiocination from premises adopted on a mere rough view, and couched in
language so vague that it is impossible to say exactly whether they are
true or false, philosophers are now forced to understand one another, to
break down the generality of their propositions, and join a precise
issue in every dispute. This is nothing less than a revolution in
philosophy." In view of the character of the larger amount of
discussions in moral and political philosophy still current, Mill
perhaps took a too optimistic view of the extent to which this
"revolution" had been accomplished.
CHAPTER XIII
CONDUCT AND CHARACTER
=Problem of Chapter.=--We have endeavored in the preceding chapters (1)
to identify the sort of situation in which the ideas of good and evil,
right and wrong, in their moral sense, are employed; (2) to set forth
the typical problems that arise in the analysis of this situation; and
(3) to name and describe briefly the types of theory which have
developed in the course of the history of the problems. We have now to
return to the moral situation as described, and enter upon an
independent analysis of it. We shall commence this analysis, as was
indicated in the last chapter, by considering the question of the
relation of attitude and consequences to each other in voluntary
activity,--not that this is the only way to approach the problem, but
that it is the way which brings out most clearly the points at issue
among types of moral theory which since the early part of the nineteenth
century have had the chief currency and influence. Accordingly the
discussion will be introduced by a statement of the two most extreme
doctrines that separate the "inner" and the "outer," the "psychical" and
the "overt" aspects of activity: _viz._, the Kantian, exclusively
emphasizing the "how," the spirit, and motive of conduct; the
Utilitarian, dwelling exclusively upon its "what," its effects and
consequences. Our positive problem is, of course, by means of arraying
these two extreme views against each other, to arrive at a statement of
the mutual relations of attitude and act, motive and consequence,
character and conduct.
We shall begin with Kant as a representative of the attitude theory.
Sec. 1. THE GOOD WILL OF KANT
Kant says:
"Nothing can possibly be conceived, in the world or out of it,
which can be called Good without qualification, except a Good
Will. Intelligence, wit, judgment, and the other talents of the
mind, however they may be named, or courage, resolution,
perseverance as qualities of temperament are individually good and
desirable in many respects; but these gifts of nature may also
become extremely bad and mischievous, if the will which is to make
use of them and which, therefore, constitutes what is called
character, is not good. It is the same with the gifts of fortune.
Power, riches, honor, even health ... inspire pride and often
presumption if there is not a Good Will to correct the influence
of these on the mind. Moderation of the affections and passions,
self-control and calm deliberation are not only good in many
respects, but even seem to constitute part of the intrinsic worth
of the person; but they are far from deserving to be called good
without qualification ... for without the principles of a good
will they may become extremely bad. The coolness of a villain
makes him both more dangerous and more abominable" (Kant: _Theory
of Ethics_, tr. by Abbott, pp. 9-10).
=Element of Truth in Statement.=--There can be no doubt that in some
respects these ideas of Kant meet a welcome in our ordinary convictions.
Gifts of fortune, talents of mind, qualities of temperament, are
regarded as desirable, as good, but we qualify the concession. We say
they are good, if a good use is made of them; but that, administered by
a bad character, they add to power for evil. Moreover, Kant's statement
of the _intrinsic_ goodness of the Good Will, "A jewel which shines by
its own light" (_Ibid._, p. 10), awakens ready response in us. Some
goods we regard as means and conditions--health, wealth, business, and
professional success. They afford moral opportunities and agencies, but
need not possess moral value in and of themselves; when they become
parts, as they may, of a moral good, it is because of their place and
context. Personality, character, has a dignity of its own, which forbids
that it be considered a simple means for the acquisition of other goods.
The man who makes his good character a simple tool for securing
political preferment, is, we should say, prostituting and so destroying
his own goodness.
=Ambiguity of Statement.=--The statement made by Kant, however, is
ambiguous and open to opposed interpretations. The notion that the Good
Will is good in and of itself may be interpreted in two different ways:
(i) We may hold, for example, that honesty is good as a trait of will
because it tends inevitably to secure a desirable relationship among
men; it removes obstructions between persons and keeps the ways of
action clear and open. Every man can count upon straightforward action
when all act from honesty; it secures for each singleness of aim and
concentration of energy. (ii) But we may also mean that honesty is
absolutely good as a trait of character just in and by itself, quite
apart from any influence this trait of character has in securing and
promoting desirable ends. In one case, we emphasize its goodness because
it arranges for and tends towards certain results; in the other case, we
ignore the factor of tendency toward results.
=Kant's Interpretation of Goodness of Will is Formal.=--Kant's further
treatment leaves us in no doubt in which of these two senses he uses the
term Good Will. He goes on (_Ibid._, p. 10):
"A Good Will is good, not because of what it performs or effects,
_not by its aptness for the attainment of some proposed end_, but
simply by virtue of the volition; that is, it is good in
itself.... Even if it should happen that, owing to the special
disfavor of fortune, or the niggardly provision of a stepmotherly
nature, this will should wholly lack power to accomplish its
purpose, if with its greatest efforts it should yet achieve
nothing, and there should remain only the Good Will (not, to be
sure, a mere wish, but the assuming of all means in our power),
then, like a jewel, it would still shine by its own light as a
thing which has its whole value in itself. Its fruitfulness or
fruitlessness can neither add nor take away anything from this
value."
And again he says:
"An action ... derives its moral worth not from the _purpose_
which is to be attained by it, but from the maxim by which it is
determined and therefore depends ... merely on the principle of
volition by which the action has taken place, without regard to
any _object of desire_.... The purposes which we may have in view
in our actions or their effect regarded as ends and springs of
will cannot give the actions an unconditional or moral worth....
It cannot lie anywhere but in the principle of the Will, without
regard to the ends which can be attained by the action" (_Ibid._,
p. 16).
=Relation of Endeavor and Achievement to Will.=--Here, also, we find a
certain agreement with our every-day moral experience. It is undoubtedly
true that in many cases we ascribe moral worth or goodness to acts
without reference to the results actually attained by them; a man who
tries to rescue a drowning child is not judged only on the basis of
success. If he is prevented, because he is crippled, or because the
current is too rapid for him, we do not refuse hearty moral approbation.
We do not judge the goodness of the act or of the agent from the
standpoint of its attained result, which here is failure. We regard the
man as good because he proposed to himself a worthy end or aim, the
rescue of another, even at the risk of harm to himself. We should agree
with Kant in saying that the moral worth does not depend on the
_realization_ of the object of desire. But we should regard the worth of
the man to consist precisely in the fact that, so far as he was
concerned, he _aimed at a good result_. We do not rule out purpose, but
we approve because the purpose was good. By will we mean tendencies,
desires, and habits operating to realize results regarded as desirable.
Will is not the _sole_ condition of reaching a result--that is, of
making the aim an actual fact. Circumstances need to cooperate to insure
a successful issue; and if these fail, the best will in the world cannot
secure the transformation of desire for an end into that end. We know
that sometimes it is only by accident that the desirable end is not
effected, but we also know that without the proper disposition it is
only by accident that the results _are_ achieved. Moreover, we know that
our own attitude is not only an important condition of securing the
results, but that it is the only condition _constantly_ under our
control. What we mean by calling it "ours" is precisely that it is that
condition whose operation lies with us. Accordingly, it is the key and
clue to the results, so far as they concern us. So far, given desire and
endeavor, achievement is not necessary to volition.
="Meaning Well."=--On the other hand, can a man justify himself on the
ground that he "means well," if the "meaning well" does not _regulate
the overt acts_ that he performs, and hence the consequences that
proceed from them? Are we not justified in suspecting a person's good
faith when his good intentions uniformly bring suffering to others? If
we do not question his good faith, do we not regard him as needing moral
enlightenment, and a change of disposition? We distinguish in our
judgments of good between the fanatic and the thoroughly selfish man,
but we do not carry this distinction to the point of approving the
fanatic; of saying, "Let him alone; he means well, he has a good will,
he is actuated by a sense of duty." On the contrary, we condemn his
aims; and in so far we censure him for willingly entertaining ans
approving them. We may, indeed, approve of his character with respect to
its sincerity, singleness of aim, and its thoroughness of effort, for
such things, _taken by themselves_, or in the abstract, are good traits
of character. We esteem them highly, however, just because they have so
much to do with results; they are, _par excellence_, executive traits.
But we do not approve of the man's whole character in approving these
traits. There is something the matter with the man in whom good traits
are put to a bad use. It is not true in such cases that we approve the
_agent_ but condemn his _acts_. We approve certain phases of conduct,
and in so far regard the doer as praiseworthy; we condemn other features
of acts, and in so far disapprove him.[120]
=Overt Action Proves Will.=--Again, under what circumstances do we
actually "take the will for the deed"? When do we assume that so far as
the will was concerned it did aim at the result and aimed at it
thoroughly, without evasion and without reservation? Only when there is
_some_ action which testifies to the real presence of the motive and
aim.[121] The man, in our earlier instance, must have made some effort
to save the drowning child to justify either us or himself in believing
that he _meant_ to do it; that he had the right intent. The individual
who habitually justifies himself (either to others or to himself) by
insisting upon the rightness of his motives, lays himself open to a
charge of self-deception, if not of deliberate hypocrisy, if there are
no outward evidences of effort towards the realization of his pretended
motive. A habitually careless child, when blamed for some disorder or
disturbance, seeks to excuse himself by saying he "didn't mean to":
i.e., he had no intention or aim; the results did not flow morally from
him. We often reply, in effect, "that is just the trouble; you didn't
mean at all; you ought to have meant _not_ to do this." In other words,
if you had thought about what you were doing you would not have done
this and would not have brought about the undesirable results. With
adults there is such a thing as culpable carelessness and blameworthy
negligence. So far as the individual's conscious will was concerned,
everything he deliberately intended may have been entirely praiseworthy;
but we blame him because his character was such that the end appropriate
to the circumstances did not occur to him. We do not disapprove when the
failure to think of the right purpose is due to inexperience or to lack
of intellectual development; but we do blame when the man does not
employ his attained experience and intellectual capacity. Given these
factors, if the right end is not thought of or is quickly dismissed,
indisposition is the only remaining explanation. These two facts, that
we require effort or evidence of sincerity of good will and that the
character is disapproved for _not_ entertaining certain aims, are
sufficient to prove that we do not identify will and motive with
something which has nothing to do with "aptness for attaining ends."
Will or character _means intelligent forethought of ends and resolute
endeavor to achieve them_. It cannot be conceived apart from _ends_
purposed and desired.
Sec. 2. THE "INTENTION" OF THE UTILITARIANS
=Emphasis of Utilitarians upon Ends.=--We are brought to the opposite
type of moral theory, the utilitarian, which finds moral quality to
reside in consequences, that is to say, in the ends achieved. To the
utilitarians, motive means simply certain states of consciousness which
happen to be uppermost in a man's mind as he acts. Not this subjective
feeling existing only in the inner consciousness, but the external
outcome, the objective change which is made in the common world, is
what counts. If we can get the act done which produces the right sort of
changes, which brings the right kind of result to the various persons
concerned, it is irrelevant and misleading to bother with the private
emotional state of the doer's mind. Murder would be none the less murder
even if the consciousness of the killer were filled with the most
maudlin sentiments of general philanthropy; the rescue of a drowning man
would be none the less approvable even if we happened to know that the
consciousness of the rescuer were irritable and grumpy while he was
performing the deed. Acts, not feelings, count, and acts mean changes
actually effected.[122]
=Distinction of Intention from Motive.=--The utilitarians make their
point by distinguishing between intention and motive, attributing moral
value exclusively to the former. According to them, intention is _what_
a man means to do; motive is the personal frame of mind which indicates
_why_ he means to do it. Intention is the concrete aim, or purpose; the
results which are foreseen and wanted. Motive is the state of mind which
renders these consequences, rather than others, interesting and
attractive. The following quotations are typical. Bentham says
concerning motives:
"If they are good or bad, it is only on account of their effects:
good, on account of their tendency to produce pleasure, or avert
pain: bad, on account of their tendency to produce pain, or avert
pleasure. Now the case is, that from one and the same motive, and
from every kind of motive, may proceed actions that are good,
others that are bad, and others that are indifferent."
Consequently the question of motive is totally irrelevant. He goes on to
give a long series of illustrations, from which we select one:
"1. A boy, in order to divert himself, reads an inspiring book;
the motive is accounted, perhaps, a good one: at any rate, not a
bad one. 2. He sets his top a-spinning: the motive is deemed at
any rate not a bad one. 3. He sets loose a mad ox among a crowd:
his motive is now, perhaps, termed an abominable one. Yet in all
three cases the motive may be the very same: it may be neither
more nor less than curiosity."[123] Mill writes to the following
effect: "The morality of the action depends entirely upon the
_intention_----that is, upon _what_ the agent wills to do. But the
motive, that is, the feeling which made him will so to do, when it
makes no difference in the act, makes none in the morality."[124]
Now if motives were merely inert feelings or bare states of
consciousness happening to fill a person's mind apart from his desires
and his ideas, they certainly would not modify his acts, and we should
be compelled to admit the correctness of this position. But Mill gives
the whole case away when he says that the motive which makes a man will
something, "_when it makes no difference in the act_," makes none in its
morality. Every motive does make a difference in the act; it makes
precisely the difference between one act and another. It is a
contradiction in terms to speak of the motive as that _which makes a
man_ will to do an act or intend to effect certain consequences, and
then speak of the motive making no difference to the act! How can that
which makes an intention make no difference to it, and to the act which
proceeds from it?
=Concrete Identity of Motive and Intention.=--Ordinary speech uses
motive and intention interchangeably. It says, indifferently, that a
man's motive in writing a letter was to warn the person addressed or was
friendliness. According to Bentham and Mill, only so-called states of
consciousness in which one feels friendly can be called motive; the
object aimed at, the warning of the person, is intention, not motive.
Again ordinary speech says either that a doctor's intention was to
relieve his patient, or that it was kind and proper, although the act
turned out badly. But the utilitarians would insist that only the first
usage is correct, the latter confounding intent with motive. In general,
such large terms as ambition, revenge, benevolence, patriotism, justice,
avarice, are used to signify both motives and aims; both dispositions
_from_ which one acts and results _for_ which one acts. It is the gist
of the following discussion that common speech is essentially correct in
this interchangeable use of intention and motive. The same set of real
facts, _the entire voluntary act_, is pointed to by both terms.
=Ambiguity in Term "Feelings."=--There is a certain ambiguity in the
term "feelings" as employed by Mill and Bentham. It may mean feelings
apart from ideas, blind and vague mental states unenlightened by
thought, propelling and impelling tendencies undirected by either memory
or anticipation. Feelings then mean sheer instincts or impulses. In this
sense, they are, as Bentham claims, without moral quality. But also in
this sense there are no intentions with which motives may be contrasted.
So far as an infant or an insane person is impelled by some blind
impulsive tendency, he foresees nothing, has no object in view, means
nothing, in his act; he acts without premeditation and intention.
"Curiosity" of this sort may be the source of acts which are harmful or
useful or indifferent. But no consequences were intelligently foreseen
or deliberately wished for, and hence the acts in question lie wholly
outside the scope of morals, even according to the utilitarian point of
view. Morality is a matter of intent, and intent there was none.
=Motive as Intelligent.=--In some cases, then, motives have no moral
quality whatsoever, and, _in these cases_, it is true that intention has
no moral quality either, because there is none. Intention and motive
are morally on the same level, not opposed to one another. But motive
means not only blind feeling, that is, impulse without thought; it also
means a tendency which is aware of its own probable outcome when carried
into effect, and which is interested in the resulting effect. It is
perhaps conceivable that a child should let loose a bull in a crowd from
sheer innocent curiosity to see what would happen--just as he might pour
acid on a stone. But if he were a normal child, the next time the
impulse presented itself he would recall the previous result: the
fright, the damage, the injury to life and limb, and would foresee that
similar consequences are likely to happen if he again performs a like
act. He now has what Bentham and Mill call an intention. Suppose he
again lets loose the bull. Only verbally is motive now the same that it
was before. In fact, curiosity is a very different thing. If the child
is still immature and inexperienced and unimaginative, we might content
ourselves with saying that his motive is egoistic amusement; but we may
also say it is downright malevolence characteristic of a criminal. In no
case should we call it curiosity. When foresight enters, intent, purpose
enters also, and with it a change of motive from innocent, because
blind, impulse, to deliberate, and hence to virtuous or blameworthy
interest in effecting a certain result. Intention and motive are upon
the same moral level. Intention is the _outcome_ foreseen and wanted;
motive, this outcome _as_ foreseen and wanted. But the voluntary act, as
such, is an _outcome, forethought and desired_, and hence attempted.
This discussion brings out the positive truth for which Bentham and Mill
stand: _viz._, that _the moral quality of any impulse or active tendency
can be told only by observing the sort of consequences to which it leads
in actual practice_. As against those who insist that there are certain
feelings in human nature so sacred that they do not need to be measured
or tested by noting the consequences which flow from them, so sacred
that they justify an act _no matter what its results_, the utilitarians
are right. It is true, as Bentham says, that if motives are good or bad
it is on account of their effects. Hence we must be constantly
considering the effects of our various half-impulsive, half-blind,
half-conscious, half-unconscious motives, in order to find out what sort
of things they are--whether to be approved and encouraged, or
disapproved and checked.
=Practical Importance of Defining Springs to Action by Results.=--This
truth is of practical as well as of theoretical significance. Many have
been taught that certain emotions are inherently so good that they are
absolutely the justification of certain acts, so that the individual is
absolved from any attention whatsoever to results. Instance "charity,"
or "benevolence." The belief is engrained that the emotion of pity, of
desire to relieve the sufferings of others, is intrinsically noble and
elevating. Hence it has required much discussion and teaching to bring
home, even partially, the evils of indiscriminate giving. The fact is
that pity, sympathy, apart from forecast of specific results to be
reached by acting upon it, is a mere psychological reaction, as much so
as is shrinking from suffering, or as is a tendency to run away from
danger; in this blind form it is devoid of any moral quality whatsoever.
Hence to teach that the feeling is good in itself is to make its mere
discharge an end in itself. This is to overlook the evil consequences in
the way of fraud, laziness, inefficiency, parasitism produced in others,
and of sentimentality, pride, self-complacency produced in the self.
There is no doubt that the effect of some types of moral training is to
induce the belief that an individual may develop goodness of character
simply by cultivating and keeping uppermost in his consciousness certain
types of feelings, irrespective of the objective results of the acts
they lead to--one of the most dangerous forms of hypocrisy and of
weakened moral fiber. The insistence of utilitarianism that we must
become aware of the moral quality of our impulses and states of mind on
the basis of the results they effect, and must control them--no matter
how "good" they feel--by their results, is a fundamental truth of
morals.
=Existence and Influence of Idea of Consequences Depends upon
Disposition.=--But the converse is equally true. Behind every concrete
purpose or aim, as idea or thought of results, lies something, some
passion, instinct, impulse, habit, interest, which gives it a hold on
the person, which gives it motor and impelling force; and which confers
upon it the capacity to operate as motive, as spring to action.
Otherwise, foreseen consequences would remain mere intellectual entities
which thought might speculatively contemplate from afar, but which would
never possess weight, influence, power to stir effort. But we must go
further. Not only is some active tendency in the constitution of the man
responsible for the motive power, whether attractive or otherwise, which
foreseen consequences possess, but it is responsible for the fact that
this rather than that consequence is suggested. A man of consistently
amiable character will not be likely to have thoughts of cruelty to
weigh and to dismiss; a man of greed will be likely to have thoughts of
personal gain and acquisition constantly present to him. What an
individual is interested in occurs to him; what he is indifferent to
does not present itself in imagination or lightly slips away. Active
tendencies, personal attitudes, are thus in the end the determining
causes of our having certain intentions in mind, as well as the causes
of their active or moving influence. As Bentham says, motives _make_
intentions.
=Influence of Interest on Ideas.=--"Purpose is but the slave of memory."
We can anticipate this or that only as from past experience we can
construct it. But recall, re-membering (rearticulation) is selective. We
pick out certain past results, certain formerly experienced results, and
we ignore others. Why? Because of our present interests. We are
interested in this or that, and accordingly it comes to mind and dwells
there; or it fails to appear in recollection, or if appearing, is
quickly dismissed. It is important that the things from the past, which
are relevant to our present activity, should come promptly to mind and
find fertile lodgment, and character decides how this happens.
Says James:[125]
"What constitutes the difficulty for a man laboring under an
unwise passion acting as if the passion were unwise?... The
difficulty is mental; it is that of getting the idea of the wise
action to stay before our mind at all. When any strong emotional
state whatever is upon us the tendency is for no images but such
as are congruous with it to come up. If others by chance offer
themselves, they are instantly smothered and crowded out.... By a
sort of self-preserving instinct which our passion has, it feels
that these chill objects [the thoughts of what is disagreeable to
the passion] if they once but gain a lodgment, will work and work
until they have frozen the very vital spark from out of all our
mood.... Passion's cue accordingly is always and everywhere to
prevent their still small voice from being heard at all."
This quotation refers to a strong passion. It is important to note _that
every interest, every emotion, of whatever nature or strength, works in
precisely the same way_. Upon this hangs the entertaining of memories
and ideas about things. Hence interest is the central factor in the
development of any concrete intention, both as to what it is and as to
what it is not--that is, what the aim would have been if the emotional
attitude had been different. Given a certain emotional attitude, and the
consequences which are pertinent to it are thought of, while other and
equally probable consequences are ignored. A man of a truly kindly
disposition is sensitive to, aware of, probable results on other
people's welfare; a cautious person sees consequences with reference to
his own standing; an avaricious man feels results in terms of the
probable increase or decrease of his possessions; and so on. The
intimate relation of interest and attention forms the inseparable tie of
intention, _what_ one will, to motive, _why_ he so wills. When Bentham
says that "Motives are the causes of intentions," he states the fact,
and also reveals motive as the proper final object of moral judgment.
Sec. 3. CONDUCT AND CHARACTER
The discussion enables us to place conduct and character in relation to
each other. Mill, after the passage already quoted (see above, p. 248),
to the effect that motive makes no difference to the morality of the
act, says it "makes a great difference in our moral estimation of the
_agent_, especially if it indicates a good or a bad habitual
_disposition_--a bent of character from which useful, or from which
hurtful, actions are likely to arise." To like effect Bentham:
"Is there nothing, then," he asks,[126] "about a man which can be
termed good or bad, when on such or such an occasion, he suffers
himself to be governed by such and such a motive? Yes, certainly,
his _disposition_. Now disposition is a kind of fictitious
entity,[127] feigned for the convenience of discourse, in order
to express what there is supposed to be _permanent_ in a man's
frame of mind, where, on such or such an occasion, he has been
influenced by such or such a motive, to engage in an act, which,
as it appeared to him, was of such or such a tendency." He then
goes on to say that disposition is good or bad according to its
effects. "A man is said to be of a mischievous[128] disposition,
when by the influence of no matter what motives, he is _presumed_
to be more apt to engage, or form intentions of engaging, in acts
which are _apparently_ of a pernicious tendency than in such as
are apparently of a beneficial tendency: of a meritorious or
beneficent disposition in the opposite case."[129] And again: "It
is evident that the nature of a man's disposition must depend upon
the nature of the motives he is apt to be influenced by; in other
words, upon the degree of his sensibility to the force of such and
such motives. For his disposition is, as it were, the sum of his
intentions.... Now, intentions, like everything else, are produced
by the things that are their causes: _and the causes of intentions
are motives_. If, on any occasion, a man forms either a good or a
bad intention, it must be by the influence of some motive."[130]
=Role of Character.=--Here we have an explicit recognition of the
fundamental role of character in the moral life; and also of why it is
important. Character is that body of active tendencies and interests in
the individual which make him open, ready, warm to certain aims, and
callous, cold, blind to others, and which accordingly habitually tend to
make him acutely aware of and favorable to certain sorts of
consequences, and ignorant of or hostile to other consequences. A
selfish man need not consciously think a great deal of himself, nor need
he be one who, after deliberately weighing his own claims and others'
claims, consciously and persistently chooses the former. The number of
persons who after facing the entire situation, would still be
anti-social enough deliberately to sacrifice the welfare of others is
probably small. But a man will have a selfish and egoistic character
who, irrespective of any such conscious balancing of his own and others'
welfare, is habitually more accessible to the thought of those
consequences which affect himself than he is to those which bear upon
others. It is not so much that _after_ thinking of the effect upon
others he declines to give these thoughts any weight, as that he
habitually fails to think at all, or to think in a vivid and complete
way, of the interests of others. As we say, he does not care; he does
not consider, or regard, others.[131]
=Partial and Complete Intent.=--To Mill's statement that morality
depends on intention not upon motive, a critic objected that on this
basis a tyrant's act in saving a man from drowning would be good--the
intent being rescue of life--although his motive was abominable, namely
cruelty, for it was the reservation of the man for death by torture.
Mill's reply is significant. Not so, he answered; there is in this case
a difference of intention, not merely of motive. The rescue was not the
whole act, but "only the necessary first step of an act." This answer
will be found to apply to every act in which a superficial analysis
would seem to make intent different in its moral significance from
motive. Take into account the remote consequences in view as well as the
near, and the seeming discrepancy disappears. The intent of rescuing a
man and the motive of cruelty are both descriptions of the same act, the
same moral reality; the difference lying not in the fact, but in the
point of view from which it is named. Now there is in every one a
tendency to fix in his mind only a part of the probable consequences of
his deed; the part which is most innocent, upon which a favorable
construction may most easily be put, or which is temporarily most
agreeable to contemplate. Thus the person concentrates his thought, his
forecast of consequences upon external and indifferent matters, upon
distribution of commodities, increase of money or material resources,
and upon positively valuable results, at the expense of other
changes----changes for the worse in his disposition and in the
well-being and freedom of others. Thus he causes to stand out in strong
light all of those consequences of his activity which are beneficial and
right, and dismisses those of another nature to the dim recesses of
consciousness, so they will not trouble him with scruples about the
proper character of his act. Since consequences are usually more or less
mixed, such half-conscious, half-unconscious, half-voluntary,
half-instinctive selection easily becomes a habit. Then the individual
excuses himself with reference to the actual bad results of his behavior
on the ground that he "meant well," his "intention was good"! Common
sense disposes of this evasion by recognizing the reality of "willing."
We say a man is "willing" to have things happen when, in spite of the
fact that in and of themselves they are objectionable and hence would
not be willed in their isolation, they are consented to, because they
are bound up with something else the person wants. And to be "willing"
to have the harm follow is really to will it. _The agent intends or
wills all those consequences which his prevailing motive or character
makes him willing under the circumstances to accept or tolerate._
Exactly the same point comes out from the side of motive. Motives are
complex and "mixed"; ultimately the motive to an act is that _entire_
character of an agent on account of which one alternative set of
possible results appeal to him and stir him. Such motives as pure
benevolence, avarice, gratitude, revenge, are abstractions; we name the
motive from the _general trend of the issue_, ignoring contributing and
indirect causes. All _assigned_ motives are more or less _post-mortem_
affairs. No _actuating_ motive is ever as simple as reflection
afterwards makes it. But the justification of the simplification is that
it brings to light some factor which needs further attention. No one can
read his own motives, much less those of another, with perfect
accuracy;--though the more sincere and transparent the character the
more feasible is the reading. Motives which are active in the depths of
character present themselves only obscurely and subconsciously. Now if
one has been trained to think that motive apart from intention, apart
from view of consequences flowing from an act, is the source and
justification of its morality, a false and perverse turn is almost sure
to be given to his judgment. Such a person fosters and keeps uppermost
in the focus of his perceptions certain states of feeling, certain
emotions which he has been taught are good; and then excuses his act, in
face of bad consequences, on the ground that it sprang from a good
motive. Selfish persons are always being "misunderstood." Thus a man of
naturally buoyant and amiable disposition may unconsciously learn to
cultivate superficially certain emotions of "good-feeling" to others,
and yet act in ways which, judged by consequences that the man might
have foreseen if he had chosen to, are utterly hostile to the interests
of others. Such a man may feel indignant when accused of unjust or
ungenerous behavior, and calling others to account for uncharitableness,
bear witness in his own behalf that he never entertained any "feelings"
of unkindness, or any "feelings" except those of benevolence, towards
the individual in question.[132] Only the habit of reading "motives" in
the light of persistent, thorough, and minute attention to the
consequences which flow from them can save a man from such moral error.
Sec. 4. MORALITY OF ACTS AND OF AGENTS
=Subjective and Objective Morality.=--Finally we may discuss the point
at issue with reference to the supposed distinction between subjective
and objective morality--an agent may be good and his act bad or
_vice-versa_. Both of the schools which place moral quality either in
attitude or in content, in motive or intent independently of each other,
agree in making a distinction between the morality of an act and the
morality of the agent--between objective and subjective morality.[133]
Thus, as we have seen, Mill says the motive makes a difference in our
moral estimate of its doer, even when it makes none in our judgment of
his action. It is a common idea that certain acts are right no matter
what the motive of the doer, even when done by one with a bad
disposition in doing them. There can be no doubt that there is a serious
difficulty in the facts themselves. Men actuated by a harsh and narrow
desire for industrial power or for wealth produce social benefits,
stimulate invention and progress, and raise the level of social life.
Napoleon was doubtless moved by vanity and vainglory to an extent
involving immense disregard of others' rights. And yet in jurisprudence,
civil arrangements, and education he rendered immense social service.
Again, the "conscientious man" is often guilty of bringing great evils
upon society. His very conviction of his own rightness may only add to
the intense vigor which he puts into his pernicious acts. Surely, we
cannot approve the conduct, although we are not entitled morally to
condemn the conscientious doer, who does "the best he knows"--or
believes.
=Moral Quality of Doer and Deed Proportionate.=--If we rule out
irrelevant considerations, we find that we never, without qualification,
invert our moral judgments of doer and deed. So far as we regard
Napoleon's actions as _morally_ good (not merely as happening to effect
certain desirable results) we give Napoleon credit for interest in
bringing about those results, _and in so far forth_, call him good.
Character, like conduct, is a highly complex thing. No human being is
all good or all bad. Even if we were sure that Napoleon was an
evil-minded man, our judgment is of him as evil _upon the whole_. Only
if we suppose him to be bad and only bad all the time is there the
opposition of evil character and good actions. We may believe that even
in what Napoleon did in the way of legal and civic reform he was
actuated by mixed motives--by vanity, love of greater, because more
centralized, power, etc. But these interests in and of themselves could
not have effected the results he accomplished. He must have had some
insight into a better condition of affairs, and this insight evidences
an interest in so far good. Moreover, so far as we judge Napoleon bad as
to his character and motive in these acts, we are entitled to hold that
the actions and also the outward results were also partially evil. That
is, while to some extent, socially beneficial, they would have been
still more so if Napoleon had been actuated by less self-centred
considerations. If his character had been simpler, more sincere, more
straightforward, then certain evil results, certain offsets to the good
he accomplished, would not have occurred. The mixture of good and evil
in the results and the mixture of good and evil in the motives are
proportionate to each other. Such is the conclusion when we recognize
the complexities of character and conduct, and do not allow ourselves
to be imposed upon by a fictitious simplicity of analysis.
=Summary.=--The first quality which is the object of judgment primarily
resides then in intention: in the consequences which are foreseen and
desired. Ultimately it resides in that disposition or characteristics of
a person which are responsible for his foreseeing and desiring just such
consequences rather than others. The ground for judging an act on the
basis of consequences not foreseen is that the powers of a man are not
fixed, but capable of modification and redirection. It is only through
taking into account in _subsequent_ acts consequences of _prior_ acts
not intended in those prior acts that the agent learns the fuller
significance of his own power and thus of himself. Every builder builds
other than he knows, whether better or worse. In no case, can he foresee
all the consequences of his acts.
In subsequent experience these results, mere by-products of the original
volition, enter in. "Outer" and non-moral for the original act, they are
within subsequent voluntary activity, because they influence desire and
make foresight more accurate in detail and more extensive in range. This
translation of consequences once wholly unforeseeable into consequences
which have to be taken in account is at its maximum in the change of
impulsive into intelligent action. But there is no act so intelligent
that its actual consequences do not run beyond its foreseen ones, and
thus necessitate a subsequent revision of intention. Thus the
distinction of "inner" and "outer" is one involved in the _growth of
character and conduct_. Only if character were not in process of change,
only if conduct were a fixed because isolated thing, should we have that
separation of the inner and the outer which underlies alike the Kantian
and the utilitarian theories. In truth, there is no separation, but only
a contrast of the different levels of desire and forethought of earlier
and later activities. The great need of the moral agent is thus a
character which will make him as open, as accessible as possible, to the
recognition of the consequences of his behavior.
LITERATURE
On CONDUCT AND CHARACTER in general, see Paulsen, _System of Ethics_,
pp. 468-472; Mackenzie, _Manual of Ethics_, Book I., ch. iii.; Spencer,
_Principles of Ethics_, Part I., chs. i.-viii.; Green, _Prolegomena to
Ethics_, pp. 110-117, 152-159; Alexander, _Moral Order and Progress_,
pp. 48-52; Stephen, _Science of Ethics_, ch. ii.; Mezes, _Ethics_, ch.
iv.; Seth, _Ethical Principles_, ch. iii.
Upon MOTIVE AND INTENTION consult Bentham, _Principles of Morals and
Legislation_, chs. viii. and x.; James Mill, _Analysis of Human Mind_,
Vol. II., chs. xxii. and xxv.; Austin, _Jurisprudence_, Vol. I., chs.
xviii.-xx.; Green, _Prolegomena_, pp. 315-325; Alexander, _Moral Order
and Progress_, pp. 36-47; Westermarck, _Origin and Development of the
Moral Ideas_, chs. viii., xi., and xiii.; Ritchie, _International
Journal of Ethics_, Vol. IV., pp. 89-94, and 229-238, where farther
references are given.
Upon FORMAL AND MATERIAL (or subjective and objective) RIGHTNESS see
Sidgwick, _History of Ethics_, p. 200; Rickaby, _Moral Philosophy_, p.
3, pp. 33-40; Bowne, _Principles of Ethics_, pp. 39-40; Brown,
_Philosophy of Mind_, Vol. III., p. 489 and pp. 499-500; Paulsen,
_System of Ethics_, pp. 227-233; Green, _Prolegomena_, pp. 317-323;
Sidgwick, _Methods of Ethics_, pp. 206-207.
FOOTNOTES:
[120] When Kant says that the coolness of a villain makes him "more
dangerous and more abominable," it is suggested that it is more
abominable _because_ it is more dangerous--surely a statement of the
value of will in terms of the results it tends to effect.
[121] Kant's distinction between a mere wish, and "assuming all the
means in our power," appears to recognize this fact, but he does not
apply the fact in his theory.
[122] But, as we shall see, the utilitarians make finally a distinction
between ends _achieved_ and ends _attempted_.
[123] Bentham, _Principles of Morals and Legislation_, ch. x., Sec. 3.
[124] Mill, _Utilitarianism_.
[125] _Psychology_, Vol. II., pp. 562-563. The whole passage, pp.
561-569, should be thoroughly familiar to every ethical student; and
should be compared with what is said in Vol. I., pp. 284-290, about the
selective tendency of feelings; and Vol. I., ch. xi., upon attention,
and Vol. I., pp. 515-522, upon discrimination.
Hoeffding, _Psychology_ (translated), is also clear and explicit with
reference to the influence of our emotions upon our ideas. (See
especially pp. 298-307.) The development of this fact in some of its
aspects is one of the chief traits of the Ethics of Spinoza.
[126] _Principles of Morals and Legislation_, ch. xi., Sec. 1.
[127] Bentham does not mean "unreal" by a fictitious entity. According
to his logic, all general and abstract terms, all words designating
relations rather than elements, are "fictitious entities."
[128] By mischievous he means pernicious, bad, vicious, or even depraved
in extreme cases.
[129] _Ibid._, ch. xi., Sec. 3.
[130] _Ibid._, Secs. 27 and 28.
[131] The fact that common moral experience, as embodied in common
speech, uses such terms as "think of," "consider," "regard," "pay
attention to" (in such expressions as he is thoughtful of, considerate
of, regardful of, mindful of, attentive to, the interests of others) in
a way implying both the action of intelligence and of the affections, is
the exact counterpart of the interchangeable use, already mentioned, of
the terms intention and motive.
[132] In short, the way an individual favors himself in reading his own
motives is as much an evidence of his egoism as the way he favors
himself in outward action. Criminals can almost always assign "good"
motives.
[133] "Formally" and "materially" good or bad are terms also employed to
denote the same distinction. (See Sidgwick, _History of Ethics_, pp.
199-200; so Bowne, _Principles of Ethics_, pp. 39-40.) "The familiar
distinction between the formal and the material rightness of action: The
former depends upon the attitude of the agent's will towards his ideal
of right; the latter depends upon the harmony of the act with the laws
of reality and its resulting tendency to produce and promote
well-being." Bowne holds that both are necessary, while formal rightness
is ethically _more_ important, though not all important.
CHAPTER XIV
HAPPINESS AND CONDUCT: THE GOOD AND DESIRE
We have reached a conclusion as to our first inquiry (p. 201), and have
decided that the appropriate subject-matter of moral judgment is the
disposition of the person as manifested in the tendencies which cause
certain consequences, rather than others, to be considered and
esteemed--foreseen and desired. Disposition, motive, intent are then
judged good or bad according to the consequences they tend to produce.
But what are the consequences by which we determine anything to be good
or bad? We turn from the locus or residence of the distinctions of good
and bad to the nature of the distinctions themselves. What do good and
bad mean as terms of voluntary behavior?
=Happiness and Misery as the Good and Bad.=--There is one answer to this
question which is at once so simple and so comprehensive that it has
always been professed by some representative ethical theory: the good is
happiness, well-being, pleasure; the bad is misery, woe, pain.[134] The
agreeableness or disagreeableness attending consequences differentiates
them into good and bad; and it is because some deeds are found to lead
to pleasure, while others lead to pain, that they are adjudged virtuous
or vicious. In its modern form, this theory is known as utilitarianism.
Bentham has given it a sweeping and clear formulation.
"Nature has placed mankind under the governance of two sovereign
masters, pain and pleasure. It is for them alone to point out what
we ought to do as well as to determine what we shall do. On the
one hand, the standard of right and wrong, on the other chain of
causes and effects, are fastened to their throne."
"Strictly speaking nothing can be said to be good or bad but
either in itself, which is the case only with pain or pleasure; or
on account of its effects, which is the case only with things that
are the cause or preventive of pain or pleasure." Again: "By the
principle of utility is meant that principle which approves or
disapproves of every action whatever according to the tendency it
appears to have to augment or diminish the happiness of the party
whose interests are in question."[135] Once more: "The greatest
happiness of all those whose interest is in question is the right
and proper, and the only right and proper and universally
desirable end of human action." "Only on the basis of this
principle do the words 'right and wrong' and 'ought' have an
intelligent meaning as applied to actions; otherwise they have
not."
This last statement need not mean, however, that all judgments of right
and wrong are as matter of fact derived from a consideration of the
results of action in the way of pain and pleasure, but that upon this
ground alone _should_ our judgments be formed, since upon this basis
alone can they be justified.[136]
=Axiomatic Identification of Good with Happiness.=--The principle that
happiness is the ultimate aim of human action and the ultimate standard
of the moral value of that action is generally regarded by the
utilitarians as axiomatic and not susceptible of proof. As Bentham says,
"that which is used to prove everything else cannot itself be proved. A
chain of proofs must have their commencement somewhere." So Bain says
(_Moral Science_, p. 27), "Now there can be no proof offered for the
position that happiness is the proper end of all human procedures, the
criterion of all right conduct. It is an ultimate or final assumption to
be tested by reference to the individual judgments of mankind." Thus
also Mill (_Utilitarianism_): "The only proof capable of being given
that an object is visible is that people actually see it. In like manner
the sole proof that it is possible to produce that anything is desirable
is that people do actually desire it."[137]
=Extreme Opposition to Happiness Theory.=--In striking contrast to this
view of the self-evident character of happiness as the all-desirable, is
the view of those to whom it is equally self-evident that to make
pleasure the end of action is destructive of all morality. Carlyle is an
interesting illustration of a violent reaction against utilitarianism.
His more moderate characterization of it is "mechanical profit and loss"
theory. It is "an upholstery and cookery conception of morals." It never
gets above the level of considerations of comfort and expediency. More
vehemently, it is a "pig philosophy" which regards the universe as a
"swine trough" in which virtue is thought of as the attainment of the
maximum possible quantity of "pig's wash." Again, apostrophizing man, he
says: "Art thou nothing else than a Vulture that flies through the
Universe seeking after Somewhat to eat; shrieking dolefully because
Carrion enough is not given thee?" Of the attempt to make general
happiness the end, he says it proposes the problem of "Given a world of
Knaves, to produce honesty from their united action," the term "knave"
referring to the individualistic self-seeking character of pleasure and
"honesty" to the social outcome desired. As a political theory, he
thought that utilitarianism subordinated justice to benevolence, and in
that light he referred to it as a "universal syllabub of philanthrophic
twaddle."
=Ambiguity in Notion of Happiness.=--If to some it is self-evident that
happiness is the aim of action, and success in achieving it the test
both of the act and the disposition from which it proceeds; while to
others it is equally obvious that such a view means immorality or at
least a base and sordid morality, it is reasonable to suppose that the
"happiness" does not mean the same to both parties; that there is some
fundamental ambiguity in the notion.
=Source of Ambiguity.=--The nature of this ambiguity may be inferred
from the fact that Bentham himself--and in this he is typical of all the
utilitarians--combines in his statement two aspects of happiness, or two
views of pleasure. He says it is for pleasure and pain alone to "_point
out what we ought to do_," that they are the only basis upon which our
judgments of right and wrong _ought_ to be formed, or upon which they
can be justified. Other things _may_ be taken as pointing out what we
ought to do; other standards of judgment--caprice, sympathy, dogma--are
employed. But they are not the right and proper ones. Consideration of
consequences of the act in the way of effect upon the happiness and
misery of all concerned, furnishes the only proper way of regulating the
formation of right ends. A certain happiness, that of results, is the
standard. But this presupposes that, in any case there is some end, and
one which may be improper because not in accord with the standard. Yet
this end also must be pleasure. Pleasure and pain "determine what we
_shall_ do," whether we act for the maximum of pleasures or not. The
"chain of causes" as well as the "standard of right" is fastened to
them. We act for pleasure, even when we do not act for the pleasures
for which we ought to act. Pleasure or happiness thus appears in a
double role. Only in the case of _right_ ends, is it the same happiness
which serves as a moving spring and as standard of judgment. In other
cases, it is one pleasure which is the end in view, and another
pleasure, one not in view, or at least not influencing action, which
measures rightness. The essence, so to speak, of a wrong act is
precisely that the pleasures which produce it are not these pleasures
which measure its goodness; the agent is not moved to act by those
pleasures and pains which as consequences settle its moral value, but by
some pleasure or pain which happens to be strongly felt at the moment of
action.
=Two Sorts of Good.=--Thus, even from Bentham's point of view, there is
a difference between real and apparent happiness, between the good which
moves to action and that which, being the standard, should move. If the
end of _all_ acts is happiness and yet we require a consideration of
results to show us _what_ happiness we are justified in seeking, then
"happiness" is in a highly ambiguous position. While from one
standpoint, it furnishes the standard of right and wrong; from another,
it furnishes the moving spring of all wrong action; it is that which so
solicits and tempts us that we fail to employ the right standard for the
regulation of our action, and hence go astray. It seems to some (as to
Carlyle) that this distinction is so fundamental that it is absurd to
say that one and the same thing can be the standard of all right action
and the moving spring of all wrong action. Hence they insist upon the
fundamental opposition of virtue and happiness.
Moreover, from Bentham's own point of view, there is a difference
between the good which _first_ presents itself, which _first_ stirs
desire and solicits to action, and the good which being formed _after
and upon the basis of consideration of consequences_, is the _right_
good. In calling the latter the _right_, we mean that it has authority
over the end which first appears; and hence has supreme claim over
action. So it is again evident that we are using happiness in two quite
different senses; so that if we call the first end that presents itself
happiness, the right end will be something else; or if we call the
consequences which measure the worth of the act happiness, then the
first end ought to be called something else. If happiness is the
_natural_ end of all desire and endeavor, it is absurd to say that the
same happiness ought to be the end. If all objects fall to the ground
any way, we do not say they ought to fall. If all our acts are moved any
way by pleasure and pain, this fact, just because it applies equally to
all acts, throws no lights upon the rightness or wrongness of any one of
them. Or, on the other hand, if that for which we _should_ act is a kind
of happiness which involves full consideration of consequences, it is
misleading to call that happiness from which we act "blindly" or without
proper forethought.
If happiness is to be the same as the moral good, it must be after the
right kind of happiness has been distinguished; namely, that which
commends itself after adequate reflection. Our criticism of Bentham will
be directed to showing that, so far as he conceives of happiness as
simply a sum of pleasures alike in quality, but differing only in
quantity, he cannot make this distinction. As an early critic (Hazlitt)
of Bentham said: "Pleasure is that which is so in itself. Good is that
which approves itself on reflection, or the _idea_ of which is a source
of satisfaction. All pleasure is not, therefore (morally speaking),
equally a good; for all pleasure does not equally bear reflecting upon."
We shall further try to show that the reason for Bentham's conceiving
happiness as simply a sum of pleasures is that he falls into the error
already discussed, of separating consequences from the disposition and
capacities or active tendencies of the agent. And that, when we correct
this error, the proper meaning of happiness turns out to be the
satisfaction, realization, or fulfillment of some _purpose and power of
the agent_. Thus we can distinguish between the false and unsatisfactory
happiness found in the expression of a more or less isolated and
superficial tendency of the self, and the true or genuine good found in
the adequate fulfillment of a fundamental and fully related capacity. We
shall first take up the discussion under the heads just brought out: I.
Happiness _as the Natural End or Object of Desire_; II. Happiness _as
Standard of Judgment_.
Sec. 1. THE OBJECT OF DESIRE
=Hedonistic Theory of Desire.=--That phase of utilitarianism which holds
that the object of desire is pleasure, is termed hedonism, or sometimes
psychological hedonism to distinguish it from ethical hedonism, the
theory that pleasure is the standard for judging acts. The fundamental
fallacy of psychological hedonism has been well stated by Green to be
supposing that a desire can be aroused or created by the anticipation of
its own satisfaction--i.e., in supposing that the idea of the pleasure
of exercise arouses desire for it, when in fact the idea of exercise is
pleasant only if there be already some desire for it (Green,
_Prolegomena to Ethics_, p. 168). Given a desire already in existence,
the idea of an object which is thought of as satisfying that desire will
always arouse pleasure, or be thought of as pleasurable. But hedonism
fails to consider the radical difference between an object's arousing
pleasure, because it is regarded as satisfying desire, and the thought
of a pleasure arousing a desire:--although the feeling of agreeableness
may intensify the movement towards the object. A hungry man thinks of a
beefsteak as that which would satisfy his appetite; his thought is at
once clothed with an agreeable tone and the conscious force of the
appetite is correspondingly intensified; the miser thinks of gold in a
similar way; the benevolent of an act of charity, etc. But in each case
the presence of the pleasurable element is dependent upon the thought of
an object which is not pleasure--the beefsteak, the gold. The thought of
the object _precedes_ the pleasure and excites it because it is felt to
promise the satisfaction of a desire.
=Pleasure is the Felt Concomitant of Imagining a Desire Realized in Its
Appropriate Object.=--The object of desire is not pleasure, but some
object is pleasurable because it is the congenial terminus of desire.
The pleasure felt is a _present_ pleasure, the pleasure which _now_
accompanies the idea of the satisfied desire. It intensifies the desire
in its present character, through opposition to the disagreeable tone of
the experienced lack and want.
=1. Pleasures and Original Appetites.=--Biological instincts and
appetites exist not for the sake of furnishing pleasure, but as
activities needed to maintain life--the life of the individual and the
species. Their adequate fulfillment is attended with pleasure. Such is
the undoubted biological fact. Now if the animal be gifted with memory
and anticipation, this complicates the process, but does not change its
nature. The animal in feeling hungry may now consciously anticipate the
getting of food and may feel pleasure in the idea of food. The pleasure
henceforth attends not merely upon attained satisfaction of appetite,
but also upon appetite prior to satisfaction, so far as that anticipates
its future satisfaction. But desire is still for the object, for the
food. If the desire is healthy, it will not depend for its origin upon
the recollection of a prior pleasure; the animal does not happen to
recall that it got pleasure from food and thus arouse a desire for more
food. The desire springs up naturally from the state of the organism.
Only a jaded and unhealthy appetite has to whip itself up by recalling
previous pleasures. But if there are many obstacles and discouragements
in the way of getting the object which satisfies want, the anticipation
of pleasure in its fulfillment may normally intensify the putting forth
of energy, may give an extra reenforcement to flagging effort. In this
way, the anticipation of pleasure has a normal place in the effective
direction of activities. But in any case, the desire and its own object
are primary; the pleasure is secondary.
=2. Pleasure and Acquired Desires.=--The same point comes out even more
clearly when we take into account the so-called higher desires and
sentiments--those which usually enter into distinctively moral
questions. In these cases it is no longer a matter of the original
instincts and appetites of the organism. Their place is taken by
acquired habits and dispositions. The object of a benevolent desire is
the supplying of another's lack, or the increase of his good. The
pleasure which accompanies the doing of a kindness to others is not the
object, for the individual thinks of the kindly act as pleasure-giving
only because he already has a benevolent character which naturally
expresses itself in amiable desires. So far as he is not benevolent, the
act will appear repulsive rather than attractive to him; and if it is
done, it will be not from a benevolent desire, but from a cowardly or an
avaricious desire, the pleasure in that case attending the thought of
some other objective consequence, such as escaping unpopularity. In like
manner, the aim to behave honestly, or to obey the civil law, or to love
one's country, leads to dwelling upon the acts and objects in which
these desires and intents may be fulfilled; and those objects which are
thought of as affording fulfillment are necessarily put in a favorable
and attractive light--they are regarded as sources of happiness. To a
patriot the thought even of possible death may arouse a glow of
satisfaction as he thinks of this act as strengthening his country's
existence. But to suppose that this attendant pleasure is the aim and
object of desire is to put the cart before the horse.
=3. Happiness and Desire.=--All men, then, may be said to desire
happiness. But this happiness is not dependent upon prior experiences of
pleasure, which, coming up in memory, arouse desire and rivet attention
upon themselves. To say that the desire of a man is for happiness is
only to say that happiness comes in the fulfillment of desire, the
desires arising on their own account as expressions of a state of lack
or incompletion in which the person finds himself. Happiness thus
conceived _is dependent upon the nature of desire and varies with it,
while desire varies with the type of character_. If the desire is the
desire of an honest man, then the prosperous execution of some honorable
intent, the payment of a debt, the adequate termination of a trust, is
conceived as happiness, as good. If it be the desire of a profligate,
then entering upon the riotous course of living now made possible by
inheritance of property is taken as happiness--the one consummation
greatly to be wished. If we know what any person really finds desirable,
what he stakes his happiness upon, we can read his nature. In happiness,
as the anticipation of the satisfaction of desire, there is, therefore,
no sure or unambiguous quality; for it may be a token of good or of bad
character, according to the sort of object which appeals to the person.
The present joy found in the idea of the completion of a purpose cannot
be the object of desire, for we desire only things absent. But the joy
is a mark of the congruity or harmony of the thought of the object,
whatever it be--health, dissipation, miserliness, prodigality, conquest,
helpfulness--with the character of the agent. It is an evidence of the
moving force, the influence, the weight, of the conceived end; it
registers the extent in which the end is not a mere intellectual
abstraction, but is a _motive_ (see p. 252). But the moral worth of this
motive depends upon the character of the end in which the person finds
his satisfaction.
=4. Confusion of Future and Present Pleasure.=--It is the confusion of
_present_ pleasure, attendant upon the thought of an object as
satisfying desire, with the pleasure that _will come when the desire is
satisfied_, that accounts for the persistence of the idea that pleasure
is the object of desire. The fact that the object of desire is _now_
pleasurable is distorted into the statement that we _seek_ for an absent
pleasure.[138] A good illustration of the confusion is seen in the
following quotation:
"The love of happiness must express the sole possible motive of
Judas Iscariot and of his Master; it must explain the conduct of
Stylites on his pillar or Tiberius at Caprae or a Kempis in his
cell or of Nelson in the cockpit of the Victory. It must be
equally good for saints and martyrs, heroes, cowards, debauches,
ascetics, mystics, misers, prodigals, men, women and babes in
arms" (Leslie Stephen, _Science of Ethics_, p. 44).
This statement is true, as we have just seen, in the sense that
different persons find different things good in accordance with their
different characters or habitually dominant purposes; that each finds
his happiness in whatever he most sets his affections upon. Where a
man's heart is, there will his treasure be also, and where that is which
a man regards as treasure, there also is the heart. A man's character is
revealed by the objects which make him happy, whether anticipated or
realized.
=Our Ends are Our Happiness, Not a Means to It.=--But the fallacy is in
the words "love of happiness." They suggest that all alike are seeking
for some one and the same thing, some one thing labeled "happiness,"
identical in all cases, differing in the way they look for it--that
saints and martyrs, heroes and cowards, all have just the same objective
goal in view--if they only knew it! In so far as it is true that there
are certain fundamental conditions of the self which have to be
satisfied in order that there shall be a _true self and a true
satisfaction_, happiness is the same for all, and is the ultimate good
of all. But this holds only of the _standard_ of happiness which makes
any particular conception of happiness right or wrong, not to the
conceptions actually entertained. To say that all are consciously and
deliberately after the same happiness is to pervert the facts. Happiness
as standard means the genuine fulfillment of whatever is necessary to
the development and integrity of the self. In this sense, it is what men
_ought_ to desire; it is what they do desire so far as they understand
themselves and the conditions of their satisfaction. But as natural or
psychological end, it means that in which a man happens at a given time
to find delectation, depending upon his uppermost wishes and strongest
habits. Hence the objection which almost every one, including the
hedonists, feels to the statement that happiness is the conscious aim of
conduct. It suggests that the objects at which we ordinarily aim are not
sought for themselves, but for some ulterior gratification to ourselves.
In reality these ends, so far as they correspond to our capacity and
intention, _are_ our happiness. All men love happiness--yes, in the
sense that, having desires, they are interested in the objects in which
the desires may be realized, no matter whether they are worthy or
degraded. No; if by this be meant that happiness is something other than
and beyond the conditions in which the powers of the person are brought
out, and made effective; no, or if it means that all love that which
really will bring happiness.
=Necessity for Standard.=--As many sorts of character, so many sorts of
things regarded as satisfactory, as constitutive of good. Not all
anticipations when realized are what they were expected to be. The good
in prospect may be apples of Sodom, dust and ashes, in attainment. Hence
some ends, some forms of happiness, are regarded as unworthy, not as
"real" or "true." While they appeared to be happiness during the
expectancy of desire, they are not approved as such in later reflection.
Hence the demand for some standard good or happiness by which the
individual may regulate the formation of his desires and purposes so
that the present and the permanent good, the good in desire and in
reflection, will coincide--so that the individual will find that to be
satisfactory in his present view which will also permanently satisfy
him. From happiness as a conceived good we turn to happiness as
_rightly_ conceived good; from happiness as result to happiness as
standard. As before, we begin with the narrower utilitarian conception.
Sec. 2. THE CONCEPTION OF HAPPINESS AS A STANDARD
=Utilitarian Method.=--Hedonism means that pleasure is the end of human
action, because the end of desire. Utilitarianism or universalistic
hedonism holds that the pleasure of all affected is the standard for
judging the worth of action,--not that conduciveness to happiness is the
sole measure actually employed by mankind for judging moral worth, but
that it is the sole standard that should be employed. Many other tests
may actually be used, sympathy, prejudice, convention, caprice, etc.,
but "utility" is the one which will enable a person to judge _truly_
what is right or wrong in any proposed course of action. The method laid
down by Bentham is as follows: Every proposed act is to be viewed with
reference to its probable consequences in (a) _intensity_ of pleasure
and pains; (b) their duration; (c) their certainty or uncertainty; (d)
their nearness or remoteness; (e) their fecundity--i.e., the tendency of
a pleasure to be followed by others, or a pain by other pains; (f) their
_purity_--i.e., the tendency of a pleasure to be followed by pains and
_vice versa_; (g) their extent, that is, the number or range of persons
whose happiness is affected--with reference to whose pleasures and pains
each one of the first six items ought also in strictness to be
calculated! Then sum up all the pleasures which stand to the credit side
of the account; add the pains which are the debit items, or liabilities,
on the other; then take their algebraic sum, and "the balance of it on
the side of pleasure will be the good tendency of the act upon the
whole."
=Circle in Method.=--Bentham's argument depends wholly upon the
possibility of both foreseeing and accurately measuring the amount of
future pleasures and pains that will follow from the intention if it is
carried into effect, and of being able to find their algebraic sum. Our
examination will be directed to showing that we have here the same
fallacy that we have just discussed; and that Bentham argues in a
circle. For the argument purports to measure present disposition or
intent by summing up future units of pleasure or pain; but there is no
way of estimating amounts of future satisfaction, the relative intensity
and weight of future possible pain and pleasure experiences, except upon
the basis of present tendencies, the habitual aims and interests, of the
person. (1) The only way to estimate the relative amount (bulk,
intensity, etc.) of a future "lot" of pleasure or pain, is by seeing how
agreeable to _present_ disposition are certain anticipated consequences,
themselves not pleasures or pains at all. (2) The only basis upon which
we can be sure that there is a _right_ estimate of future satisfactions,
is that we already have a good character as a basis and organ for
forming judgment.
=(1) How Pleasures and Pains are Measured.=--If we keep strictly to
Bentham's own conception of pleasures as isolated entities, all just
alike in quality, but differing in quantity--in the two dimensions of
intensity and duration--the scheme he recommends is simply impossible.
What does it mean to say that one pleasure, as an external and future
fact, is equal to another? What practical sense is there in the notion
that a pain may be found which is exactly equal to a pleasure, so that
it may just offset it or reduce it to zero? How can one weigh the amount
of pain in a jumping and long-continued toothache against, say, the
pleasure of some charitable deed performed under conditions which may
bring on the toothache? What relevancy has the quantitative comparison
to a judgment of moral worth? How many units of pleasure are contained
in the fulfillment of the intention to go to war for one's country? How
many in the fulfillment of the intention to remain at home with one's
family and secure profitable contracts from the government? How shall
the pains involved in each set be detected and have their exact
numerical force assigned them? How shall one set be measured over
against the other? If a man is already a patriot, one set of
consequences comes into view and has weight; if one is already a coward
and a money-grubber, another set of consequences looms up and its value
is measured on a rule of very different scale.
=Present Congeniality to Character Measures Importance.=--When we
analyze what occurs, we find that this process of comparing future
possible satisfactions, to see which is the greater, takes place on
exactly the opposite basis from that set forth by Bentham. We do not
compare results in the way of fixed amounts of pleasures and pains, but
we compare _objective_ results, changes to be effected in ourselves, in
others, in the whole social situation; during this comparison desires
and aversions take more definite form and strength, so that we find the
idea of one result more agreeable, more harmonious, to our present
character than another. _Then_ we say it is more satisfying, it affords
more pleasure than another. The satisfaction _now_ aroused in the mind
at the thought of getting even with an enemy may be stronger than the
painfulness of the thought of the harm or loss that will come to him or
than the thought of danger itself,--then the pleasures to follow from
vengeance are esteemed more numerous, stronger, more lasting, etc., than
those which would follow from abstinence. Or, to say that satisfactions
are about equal means that we are _now_ at a loss to choose between
them. But we are not at a loss to choose because certain future pains
and pleasures present themselves in and of themselves as fixed amounts
irrespective of our own wishes, habits, and plans of life. Similarly we
may speak of satisfactions being added to one another and the total sum
increased; or of dissatisfaction coming in as offsets and reducing the
amount of satisfaction. But this does not mean that pains and pleasures
which we expect to arrive in the future are added and subtracted--what
intelligible meaning can such a phrase possess? It means that as we
think first of this result and then of another, the present happiness
found in the anticipation of one is increased by the anticipation of the
other; or that the results are so incompatible that the present
satisfaction, instead of swelling and expanding as from one thought to
another, is chilled and lessened. Thus we might find the thought of
revenge sweet (and thus give a high valuation to the units of pleasure
to result from it), but be checked by the thought of the meanness of the
act, or of how we would feel if some one else, whose good opinion we
highly esteem, should hear of it.
=(2) Congeniality to a Good Character the Right Measure.=--The net
outcome of this discussion is that the practical value of our acts is
defined to us at any given time by the satisfaction, or displeasure, we
take in the ideas of changes we foresee in case the act takes place. The
present happiness or distaste, depending upon the harmony between the
idea in question and the character, defines for us the value of the
future consequences: which is the reverse of saying that a calculation
of future pains and pleasures determines for us the value of the act and
character. But this applies to any end as it happens to arise, not to
the end as we ought to form it; we are still without a standard. What
has been said applies to the criminal as well as to the saint; to the
miser and the prodigal and the wisely generous alike. The idea of a
certain result warms the heart of each, his heart being what it is. The
assassin would not be one if the thought of a murder had not been
entertained by him and if the thought had not been liked and
welcomed--made at home. Only upon the supposition that character is
already good can we trust judgment, first, to foresee all the
consequences that should be foreseen; and, secondly, to respond to each
foreseen consequence with the right emotional stamp of like and dislike,
pleasure and pain. The Greeks said it is the object of a moral education
to see that the individual finds his pleasure in the thought of noble
ends and finds his pain in the contemplation of base ends. Again, as
Aristotle said:
"The good man wills the real object of intent, but what the bad
man desires may be anything; just as physically those in good
condition want things that are wholesome, while the diseased may
take anything to be healthful; for the good man judges correctly"
(_Ethics_, Book III., 4, 4). And again: "The good man is apt to go
right about pleasure, and the bad man is apt to go wrong" (Book
II., 3, 7), and, finally, "It is only to the good man that the
good presents itself as good, for vice perverts us and causes us
to err about the principle of action" (Book III., 12, 10).
=Principle of Quality of Pleasure as Criterion.=--Mill, still calling
himself a utilitarian, reaches substantially the same result by (a)
making the _quality_ of pleasure, not its bulk or intensity, the
standard; and (b) referring differences in quality to differences in the
_characters_ which experience them.
"It is," he says, "quite compatible with the principle of utility
to recognize the fact that some _kinds_ of pleasure are more
desirable and more valuable than others. Human beings have
faculties more elevated than the animal appetites, and, when once
made conscious of them, do not regard anything as happiness that
does not include their gratification."
The higher the capacity or faculty, the higher in quality the pleasure
of its exercise and fulfillment, irrespective of bulk. But how do we
know which faculty _is_ higher, and hence what satisfaction is more
valuable? By reference to the experience of the man who has had the best
opportunity to exercise all the powers in question.
"Few human creatures would consent to be changed into any of the
lower animals, for a promise of the fullest allowance of a beast's
pleasure; no intelligent human being would consent to be a fool,
no instructed person would be an ignoramus, no person of feeling
and conscience would be selfish and base, even though they should
be persuaded that the fool, the dunce or the rascal is better
satisfied with his lot than they are with theirs." And again, "It
is indisputable that the being whose capacities of enjoyment are
low has the greatest chance of having them fully satisfied; and a
highly endowed being will always feel that any happiness which he
can look for, as the world is constituted, is imperfect.... It is
better to be a human being dissatisfied than a pig satisfied;
better to be a Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied. And if
the fool or the pig is of a different opinion, it is because he
only knows his own side of the question. The other party to the
comparison knows both sides."
The net result of our discussion is, then, (1) that happiness consists
in the fulfillment in their appropriate objects (or the anticipation of
such fulfillment) of the powers of the self manifested in desires,
purposes, efforts; (2) true happiness consists in the satisfaction of
those powers of the self which are of higher quality; (3) that the man
of good character, the one in whom these high powers are already active,
is the judge, in the concrete, of happiness and misery. We shall now
discuss
Sec. 3. THE CONSTITUTION OF HAPPINESS
Happiness consists in the agreement, whether anticipated or realized, of
the objective conditions brought about by our endeavors with our desires
and purposes. This conception of happiness is contrasted with the notion
that it is a sum or collection of separate states of sensation or
feeling.
=1. One View Separates, while the Other Connects, Pleasure and Objective
Conditions.=--In one case, the agreeable feeling is a kind of psychical
entity, supposed to be capable of existence by itself and capable of
abstraction from the objective end of action. The pleasant _thing_ is
one thing; the pleasure, another; or, rather, the _pleasant thing_ must
be analyzed into two independent elements, the pleasure as _feeling_ and
the _thing_ with which it happens to be associated. It is the pleasure
alone, _when dissociated_, which is the real end of conduct, an object
being at best an external means of securing it. It is the pleasurable
feeling which happens to be _associated_ with food, with music, with a
landscape, that makes it good; health, art, are not good in themselves.
The other view holds that pleasure has no such existence by itself; that
it is only a name for the _pleasant object_; that by pleasure is meant
the agreement or congruity which exists between some capacity of the
agent and some objective fact in which this capacity is realized. It
expresses the way some object meets, fits into, responds to, an activity
of the agent. To say that food is agreeable, means that food satisfies
an organic function. Music is pleasant because by it certain capacities
or demands of the person with respect to rhythm of hearing are
fulfilled; a landscape is beautiful because it carries to fulfillment
the visual possibilities of the spectator.
=2. Qualities of Pleasure Vary with Objects, and with Springs to
Action.=--When happiness is conceived as an aggregate of states of
feeling, these are regarded as homogeneous in quality, differing from
one another only in intensity and duration. Their qualitative
differences are not intrinsic, but are due to the different objects with
which they are associated (as pleasures of hearing, or vision). Hence
they disappear when the pleasure is taken by itself as an end. But if
agreeableness is precisely the agreeableness or congruousness of some
objective condition with some impulse, habit, or tendency of the agent,
then, of course, pure pleasure is a myth. Any pleasure is qualitatively
unique, being precisely the harmony of one set of conditions with its
appropriate activity. The pleasure of eating is one thing; the pleasure
of hearing music, another; the pleasure of an amiable act, another; the
pleasure of drunkenness or of anger is still another. Hence the
possibility of absolutely different moral values attaching to pleasures,
according to the type or aspect of character which they express. But if
the good is only a sum of pleasures, any pleasure, so far as it goes, is
as good as any other--the pleasure of malignity as good as the pleasure
of kindliness, simply as pleasure. Accordingly Bentham said, the
pleasure of push-pin (a game) is as good as that of poetry. And as he
said again, since pleasure is the motive of every act, there is no
motive which _in itself_, and as far as it goes, is not good--it is bad
only if it turns out in the end to produce more pain than pleasure. The
pleasure of malignant gossip is so far as it is pleasure a mitigation of
the badness of the act. Not so, if happiness is the experience into
which pleasures enter so far as the tendencies of character that produce
them are approved of. An act may bring a pleasure and yet that pleasure
be no part of happiness, but rather a blot and blemish. Such would be
the case, for example, with the pleasure which one might take in an act
of charity because one had thereby put himself in a position superior to
that of the recipient. A good man who caught himself feeling pleasure
from this phase of the act would not regard this pleasure as a further
element of good attained, but as detracting from his happiness. A
pleasure may be accepted or reacted against. So far as not acquiesced in
it is, from the standpoint of happiness, positively disagreeable.
Surrender to a pleasure, taking it to be one's happiness, is one of the
surest ways of revealing or discovering what sort of a man one is. On
the other hand, the pain which a miserly man feels in his first acts of
generosity may be welcomed by him as, under the circumstances, an
element in his good, since it is a sign of and factor in the improvement
of character.
=3. The Unification of Character.=--Happiness as a sum of pleasures does
not afford a basis for unifying or organizing the various tendencies and
capacities of the self. It makes possible at best only a mechanical
compromise or external adjustment. Take, for example, the satisfaction
attendant upon acting from a benevolent or a malicious impulse. There
can be no question that some pleasure is found in giving way to either
impulse when it is strongly felt. Now if we regard the pleasure as a
fixed state in itself, and good or happiness as a sum of such states,
the only moral superiority that can attach to acting benevolently is
that, upon the whole, _more_ units of pleasure come from it than from
giving way to the opposite spring of action. It is simply a question of
greater or less quantity in the long run. Each trait of character, each
act, remains morally independent, cut off from others. Its only relation
to others is that which arises when its results in the way of units of
agreeable or painful feeling are compared, as to bulk, with analogous
consequences flowing from some other trait, or act. But if the
fundamental thing in happiness is the relation of the desire and
intention of the agent to its own successful outlet, there is an
inherent connection between our different tendencies. The satisfaction
of one tendency strengthens itself, and strengthens allied tendencies,
while it weakens others. A man who gives way easily to anger (and finds
gratification in it) against the acts of those whom he regards as
enemies, nourishes unawares a tendency to irritability in all directions
and thus modifies the sources and nature of all satisfaction. The man
who cherishes the satisfaction he derives from a landscape may increase
his susceptibility to enjoyment from poetry and pictures.
=The Final Question.=--The final question of happiness, the question
which marks off true and right happiness from false and wrong
gratification, comes to this: Can there be found ends of action,
desirable in themselves, which reenforce and expand not only the motives
from which they directly spring, but also the other tendencies and
attitudes which are sources of happiness? Can there be found powers
whose exercise confirms ends which are stable and weakens and removes
objects which occasion only restless, peevish, or transitory
satisfaction, and ultimately thwart and stunt the growth of happiness?
Harmony, reenforcement, expansion are the signs of a true or moral
satisfaction. What is the good which while good in direct enjoyment also
brings with it fuller and more continuous life?
LITERATURE
For pleasure as the object of desire and the psychology of hedonism, see
Bain, _Emotions and Will_, Part II., ch. viii.; Rickaby, _Moral
Philosophy_, pp. 54-61, and _Aquinas Ethicus_, Vol. I., pp. 104-121;
Sidgwick, _Methods of Ethics_, pp. 34-47, and the whole of Book II., and
Book III., chs. xiii. and xiv.; Mackenzie, _Manual of Ethics_, Book II.,
ch. iv.; Muirhead, _Elements of Ethics_, Book III., ch. i.; Gizyeki, _A
Student's Manual of Ethical Philosophy_; Green, _Prolegomena to Ethics_,
pp. 163-177, 226-240, 374-388; James, _Principles of Psychology_, Vol.
II., pp. 549-559; Martineau, _Types of Ethical Theory_, Vol. II., Part
II., Book II., Branch iv.
For the history of hedonism, see Wallace, _Epicureanism_; Pater, _Marius
the Epicurean_; Sidgwick, _History of Ethics_, ch. ii., _passim_ and ch.
iv., Sec. 14-17; Hume, _Treatise of Human Nature_, Book III., and the
references to Bentham and Mill in the text; Watson, _Hedonistic Theories
from Aristippus to Spencer_.
For the utilitarian standard, see Lecky, _History of European Morals_,
Vol. I., ch. i.; Stephen, _Science of Ethics_, chs. iv. and v.; Spencer,
_Principles of Ethics_, Part I.; Hoeffding, _Ethik_, ch. vii., and
_Monist_, Vol. I., p. 529; Paulsen, _System of Ethics_, pp. 222-286, and
404-414; Grote, _Examination of the Utilitarian Philosophy_; Wilson and
Fowler, _Principles of Morals_, Vol. I., pp. 98-112; Vol. II., pp.
262-273; Green, _Prolegomena_, pp. 240-255, 399-415; Martineau, _Types_,
pp. 308-334; Alexander, _Moral Order and Progress_, pp. 204-211; Seth,
_Principles of Ethics_, pp. 94-111; Sidgwick, _The Ethics of T. H.
Green, Herbert Spencer and J. Martineau_, Lectures I.-IV. of the
Criticism of Spencer. Compare the references _sub voce_ Happiness,
899-903, in Rand's _Bibliography_, Vol. III. of Baldwin's Dictionary of
Philosophy and Psychology.
FOOTNOTES:
[134] Later we shall see reasons for discriminating between happiness
and pleasure. But here we accept the standpoint of those who identify
them.
[135] The context shows that this "party" may be either the individual,
or a limited social group or the entire community. Even the pleasures
and pains of animals, of the sentient creation generally, may come into
the account.
[136] These quotations are all taken from Bentham's _Principles of
Morals and Legislation_; the first, third, and fourth from ch. i.; the
second from ch. xiii.; and the last from ch. ii.
[137] With these statements may he compared Spencer, _Principles of
Ethics_, pp. 30-32: Stephen, _Science of Ethics_, pp. 42. Sidgwick, in
his _Methods of Ethics_, holds that the axiomatic character of happiness
as an end proves that the position is not empirical but intuitional or
_a priori_. Only as we base ourselves on certain ultimate deliverances
of conscience can we he said to know that happiness is the desirable end
and that the happiness of one is just as intrinsically desirable as the
happiness of another. (See his _Methods of Ethics_, Book III., chs.
xiii. and xiv.)
[138] This ambiguity affects the statement quoted from Bentham that
pleasure and pain determine what we shall do. His implication is that
pleasure as _object_ of desire moves us; the fact is that _present_
pleasure, aroused by the idea of some object, influences us.
CHAPTER XV
HAPPINESS AND SOCIAL ENDS[139]
In form, the true good is thus an inclusive or expanding end. In
substance, the only end which fulfills these conditions is the social
good. The utilitarian standard is social consequences. To repeat our
earlier quotation from Bentham (above, p. 264):
"The greatest happiness of all those whose interest is in question
is the right and proper, and the only right and proper and
_universally desirable_ end of human action." Mill says, "To do as
you would be done by, and to love your neighbor as yourself,
constitute the ideal perfection of utilitarian morality." And
again: "The happiness which is the Utilitarian standard of what is
right in conduct is not the agent's own happiness, but that of all
concerned; as between his own happiness and that of others,
Utilitarianism requires him to be as strictly impartial as a
disinterested and benevolent spectator." So Sidgwick (_Methods of
Ethics_, p. 379): "By Utilitarianism is here meant the ethical
theory, first distinctly formulated by Bentham, that the conduct
which under any given circumstances is externally or objectively
right is that which produces the greatest amount of happiness _on
the whole_; that is taking into account all whose happiness is
affected by the conduct. It would tend to clearness if we might
call this principle, and the method based upon it, by some such
name as Universalistic hedonism." And finally, Bain (_Emotions and
Will_, p. 303): "Utility is opposed to the selfish principle, for,
as propounded, it always implies the good of society generally and
the subordination of individual interests to the general good."
=Social Purpose of Utilitarianism.=--Its aim, then, was the "greatest
possible happiness of the greatest possible number," a democratic,
fraternal aim. In the computation of the elements of this aim, it
insisted upon the principle of social and moral equality: "every one to
count for one, and only for one." The standard was the well-being of the
community conceived as a community of individuals, all of whom had equal
rights and none of whom had special privileges or exclusive avenues of
access to happiness. In a period in which the democratic spirit in
England was asserting itself against vested interests and
class-distinctions, against legalized inequalities of all sorts, the
utilitarian philosophy became the natural and perhaps indispensable
adjunct of the liberal and reforming spirit in law, education, and
politics. Every custom, every institution, was cross-questioned; it was
not allowed to plead precedent and prior existence as a basis for
continued existence. It had to prove that it conduced to the happiness
of the community as a whole, or be legislated out of existence or into
reform. Bentham's fundamental objection to other types of moral theories
than his own was not so much philosophic or theoretic as it was
practical. He felt that every intuitional theory tended to dignify
prejudice, convention, and fixed customs, and so to consecrate vested
interests and inequitable institutions.
=Recognition by an Opponent.=--The following remarks by T. H. Green are
the more noteworthy because coming from a consistent opponent of the
theory:
"The chief theory of conduct which in Modern Europe has afforded
the conscientious citizen a vantage ground for judging of the
competing claims on his obedience, and enabled him to substitute a
critical and intelligent for a blind and unquestioning conformity,
has no doubt been the Utilitarian. ... Whatever the errors arising
from its hedonistic psychology, no other theory has been available
for the social or political reformer, combining so much truth with
such ready applicability. No other has offered so commanding a
point of view from which to criticize the precepts and
institutions presented as authoritative."[140]
And again, speaking of the possibility of practical service from theory,
he says:
"The form of philosophy which in the modern world has most
conspicuously rendered this service has been the Utilitarian,
because it has most definitely announced the interest of humanity
without distinction of persons or classes, as the end by reference
to which all claims upon obedience are ultimately to be
measured.... Impartiality of reference to human well-being has
been the great lesson which the Utilitarian has had to
teach."[141]
=Irreconcilable Conflict of Motive and End.=--But unfortunately the
assertion that the happiness of all concerned is the "universally
_desirable_ end," is mixed up by early utilitarianism with an hedonistic
psychology, according to which the _desired_ object is private and
personal pleasure. What is _desirable_ is thus so different from what is
_desired_ as to create an uncrossable chasm between the true end of
action--the happiness of all,--and the moving spring of desire and
action--private pleasure. That there is a difference between what is
_naturally_ desired (meaning by "naturally" what first arouses interest
and excites endeavor) and what is morally desirable (understanding by
this the consequences which present themselves in adequate
deliberation), is certain enough. But the desirable must be _capable of
becoming_ desired, or else there is such a contradiction that morality
is impossible. If, now, the object of desire is always private pleasure,
how can the recognition of the consequences upon the happiness or misery
of others ever become an effective competitor with considerations of
personal well-being, when the two conflict?[142]
=Lack of Harmony among Pleasurable Ends.=--If it so happens that the
activities which secure the personal pleasure also manage to affect
others favorably, so much the better; but since, by the theory, the
individual _must_ be moved exclusively by desire for his own pleasure,
woe betide others if their happiness happens to stand in the way.[143]
It could only be by accident that activities of a large number of
individuals all seeking their own private pleasures should coincide in
effecting the desirable end of the common happiness. The outcome would,
more likely, be a competitive "war of all against all." It is of such a
situation that Kant says: "There results a harmony like that which a
certain satirical poem depicts as existing between a married couple bent
on going to ruin, 'Oh, marvelous harmony! what he wishes, she wishes
too'; or like what is said of the pledge of Francis I. to the Emperor
Charles V., 'What my brother wants, that I want too' (namely
Milan)."[144] The existence already noted of an unperceived and
unreconcilable division between happiness _in the form of future
consequences_, and pleasure _as object of desire and present moving
spring_, thus becomes of crucial and, for hedonistic utilitarianism, of
catastrophic importance. We shall first discuss the efforts of
utilitarianism to deal with the problem.
=Mill's Formal Method.=--We mention first a purely logical or formal
suggestion of Mill's, not because it is of very much significance one
way or the other, but because it helps to bring out the problem.
"No reason can be given why the general happiness is desirable,
except that each person, so far as he believes it to be
obtainable, desires his own happiness. This, however, being a
fact, we have not only all the proof which the case admits of, but
all which it is possible to require, that happiness is a good;
that each person's happiness is a good to that person; and the
general happiness, therefore, a good to the aggregate of all
persons."[145]
It clearly does not follow that because the good of A and B and C, etc.,
is _collectively_, or aggregately, a good to A and B and C, etc., that
therefore the good of A and B and C, etc., or of anybody beyond A
himself, is regarded as a good by A--especially when the original
premise is that A seeks his own good. Because all men want to be happy
themselves, it hardly follows that each wants all to be so. It does
follow, perhaps, that that would be the _reasonable_ thing to want. If
each man desires happiness for himself, to an outside spectator looking
at the matter in the cold light of intelligence, there might be no
reason why the happiness of one should be any more precious or desirable
than that of another. From a mathematical standpoint, the mere fact that
the individual knows he wants happiness, and knows that others are like
himself, that they too are individuals who want happiness, might commit
each individual, theoretically, to the necessity of regarding the
happiness of every other as equally sacred with his own. But the
difficulty is that there is no chance, upon the hedonistic psychology of
desire, for this rational conviction to get in its work, even if it be
intellectually entertained. The intellectual perception and the
mechanism of human motivation remain opposed. Mill's statement, in other
words, puts the problem which hedonistic utilitarianism has to solve.
Materially, as distinct from this formal statement, utilitarianism has
two instrumentalities upon which it relies: one, internal, found in the
nature of the individual; the other, external, or in social
arrangements.
=I. Bentham's View of Sympathetic Pleasures.=--In the long list of
pleasures moving men to action which Bentham drew up, he included what
he called the social and the semi-social. The social are the pleasures
of benevolence; the semi-social, the pleasures of amity (peace with
one's fellows) and of reputation.
"The pleasures of benevolence are the pleasures resulting from the
view of any pleasures supposed to be possessed by the beings who
may be the objects of benevolence" (_Principles of Morals and
Legislation_). And if it be asked what motives lying within a
man's self he has to consult the happiness of others, "in answer
to this, it cannot but be admitted that the only interests which a
man at all times and upon all occasions is sure to find _adequate_
motives for consulting are his own. Notwithstanding this there are
no occasions on which a man has not some motives for consulting
the happiness of other men. In the first place, he has, on all
occasions, the purely social motive of sympathy and benevolence;
in the next place, he has, on most occasions, the semi-social
motives of amity and love of reputation" (_Ibid._, ch. xix., Sec. 1).
So important finally are the sympathetic motives that he says "The
Dictates of Utility are neither more nor less than the dictates of
the most extensive and enlightened (that is, well advised)[146]
benevolence" (_Ibid._, ch. x., Sec. 4).
In short, we are so constituted that the happiness of others gives us
happiness, their misery creates distress in us. We are also so
constituted that, even aside from direct penalties imposed upon us by
others, we are made to suffer more or less by the knowledge that they
have a low opinion of us, or that we are not "popular" with them. The
more enlightened our activity, the more we shall see how by sympathy our
pleasures are directly bound up with others, so that we shall get more
pleasure by encouraging that of others. The same course will also
indirectly increase our own, because others will be likely to esteem and
honor us just in the degree in which our acts conduce to their pleasure.
A wise or enlightened desire for our own pleasure will thus lead us to
regard the pleasures of others in our activities.
=Limitations of Doctrine.=--To state the doctrine is almost to criticize
it. It comes practically to saying that a sensible and prudent self-love
will make us pay due heed to the effect of our activities upon the
welfare of others. We are to be benevolent, but the reason is that we
get more pleasure, or get pleasure more surely and easily, that way than
in any other. We are to be kind, because upon the whole the net return
of pleasure is greater that way. This does not mean that Bentham denied
the existence of "disinterested motives" in man's make-up; or that he
held that all sympathy is coldly calculating. On the contrary, he held
that sympathetic reactions to the well-being and suffering of others are
involved in our make-up. But as it relates to _motives_ for action he
holds that the sympathetic affections influence us only under the form
of desire for our own pleasure: they make us rejoice in the rejoicing of
others, and move us to act that others may rejoice so that we may
thereby rejoice the more. They do not move us to act as direct interests
in the welfare of others for their own sake.[147] We shall find that
just as Mill transformed the utilitarian theory of motives by
substituting quality of happiness for quantity of pleasures, so he also
transformed the earlier Benthamite conception of both the internal and
the external methods for relating the happiness of the individual and
the welfare of society.
=II. Mill's Criticism.=--Mill charges Bentham with overlooking the
motive in man which makes him love excellence for its own sake. "Even
under the head of sympathy," he says:
"his recognition does not extend to the more complex forms of the
feeling--the love of _loving_, the need of a sympathizing support,
or of an object of admiration and reverence."[148] "Self culture,
the training by the human being himself of his affections and will
... is a blank in Bentham's system. The other and co-equal part,
the regulation of his outward actions, must be altogether halting
and imperfect without the first; for how can we judge in what
manner many an action will affect the worldly interests of
ourselves or others unless we take in, as part of the question,
its influence on the regulation of our or their affections and
desires?"[149]
In other words, Mill saw that the weakness of Bentham's theory lay in
his supposition that the factors of character, the powers and desires
which make up disposition, are of value only as moving us to seek
pleasure; to Mill they have a worth of their own or are _direct_ sources
and ingredients of happiness. So Mill says:
"I regard any considerable increase of human happiness, through
mere changes in outward circumstances, unaccompanied by changes in
the state of desires, as hopeless."[150] And in his
_Autobiography_ speaking of his first reaction against Benthamism,
he says: "I, for the first time, gave its proper place, among the
prime necessities of human well-being, to the internal culture of
the individual. I ceased to attach almost exclusive importance to
the ordering of outward circumstances.... The cultivation of the
feelings became one of the cardinal points in my ethical and
philosophical creed."[151]