A Handbook of Ethical Theory

Chapter i, Sec 2.] that a single moral law, so abstractly stated as to cover the whole sphere of conduct, must be something so vague and indeterminate as to be practically useless as a guide to action. The admonition, "do right," does not mean anything in particular to the man who is not already well instructed as to what, in detail, const.i.tutes right action. Nor do we make ourselves more intelligible, when we say to him "be good."

(2) The advocate of the Rational Social Will recognizes, as do many adherents of other schools, that the social will, as expressed at any given time, is only relatively rational; that men must live in their own day and generation, although they can, to some degree, reach beyond them; and that some differences of opinion as to the relative values of virtues, and the goodness of characters, are to be expected.

(3) Furthermore, he is in a position to explain how a man may be "subjectively" right and yet "objectively" wrong. The man"s character may be such that it is, on the whole, to be approved by the Rational Social Will. He may be animated by the desire to adjust himself to that will.

And yet, the accident of ignorance, the accident of prejudice not recognized by himself as such, may lead him to do what he thinks right and what those more enlightened recognize to be wrong.

141. ITS SOLUTION OF CERTAIN DIFFICULTIES.--Perhaps it would be better for me to give this section a heading more nearly like the last. I aim only to give the reader a point of view from which he can approach the problem of a solution.

Take the problem which has come up before in the form of the distribution of pleasures. [Footnote: See Sec 109.] He who dwells, not so much upon pleasure, as upon the satisfaction of desire and will, must state it differently, but the problem is much the same. What degree of recognition should be given to the will of each individual, or to the separate volitions and desires in the life of the individual? Should everybody count for one? Should every desire or group of desires receive recognition? Is no distinction to be made in the intensity of desires?

And how many individuals shall we include in our reckoning?

Light seems to be shed upon this complicated problem or set of problems when we hold clearly before ourselves what the task of reason is in regulating the life of man individually and collectively. Its function is to bring order out of chaos and strife; to subst.i.tute harmony and planfulness for accident; to introduce long views in the place of momentary impulses; to prevent the barter of permanent good for a mess of pottage.

Reason must accept the impulses and instincts of man as it finds them, and do what it can with them. It cannot ignore them. Slowly, civilizations, to some degree rational, have come into being. In so far as they are rational, they are justified. Keeping all this in view we may say, tentatively:

(a) The principle, "everybody to count for one, and n.o.body for more than one," must be interpreted as an expression of the conviction that no will should be _needlessly_ sacrificed.

Reason is bodiless, except as incorporated in human societies, and these must have their historic development. Can we do away with the special claims of family, of neighborhood, of the state? They have their place in the historic rational order. But the whispered "everybody to count for one" may help us to realize that such special claims cannot take the place of all others.

(b) Shall a deliberate attempt be made to enlarge the circle of those who are to share in the social will, not merely by diminishing the number of deaths, but by promoting the number of births? States have attempted it often enough. I can only say that, if this be attempted, it should not be attempted in ways that ignore the historical development of society, with its social and moral traditions.

(c) Why not justify our att.i.tude toward the brutes by maintaining that they have, theoretically, rights to recognition, in so far as such recognition does not interfere with the rights of man in the rational social order? The brutes outnumber us, to be sure. We are in a hopeless minority. But were this minority sacrificed, there would be no rational social order at all--no right, no wrong; nothing but the clash of wills or impulses which reason now strives to harmonize as it can. [Footnote: See chapter xxi]

(d) When we turn to the problem of the distribution of satisfactions in the life of the individual, we find ready to hand a variety of unwise saws--"A short life and a merry one," and the like.

How should the individual choose his satisfactions? Merely from the standpoint of the individual? What is _desirable_? Not _desired_, by this man or by that, but _desirable, reasonable_?

It is an open secret that the house of mirth lacks every convenience demanded of a permanent residence, and that those who breathlessly pursue pleasure are seldom pleased. Nor do men, when they stop to think, want their lives to be very short.

And, in any case, this question of the distribution of satisfactions in the life of the individual does not concern the individual alone. Is the man who wants a short life and a merry one an "undesirable" from the standpoint of the Rational Social Will? Then he should be suppressed. The manner of distribution of even his own personal satisfactions is not his affair exclusively. Every ordered society has its notions touching the type of man which suits its ends.

(e) But shall we, in making up our minds about the "satisfaction on the whole" which busies the rational individual or the rational community, take no account at all of the intensity of pleasures and of pains, the eagerness with which some things are desired and the feebleness of the impulsion toward others? May not the intense thrill of a moment more than counterbalance "four lukewarm hours?" Are we not, if we take such things into consideration, back again face to face with something very like the calculus of pleasures--that bugbear of the egoist and of the utilitarian?

It would be foolish to maintain that man, either individually or collectively, places all desires upon the same level. No man of sense holds that every desire should count as one. On the other hand, no man of sense pretends to have any accurate unit of measurement by which he can make unerring estimates of desirability.

Fortunately, he is not compelled to fall back upon such a unit. Even if he was born yesterday, the race was not. He is born into a system of values expressed in social organization and social inst.i.tutions. It is the resultant of innumerable expressions of preference on the part of innumerable men. It is a general guide to what, on the whole, man wants.

It is, then, foolish for him to raise such questions as, whether it is not better to aim at intense happiness on the part of the few, to the utter ignoring of the ma.s.s of mankind. Such questions the Rational Social Will has already answered in the negative.

142. THE CULTIVATION OF OUR CAPACITIES.--Finally, we may approach the question whether it is reasonable to awake dormant desires, to call into being new needs; which, satisfied, may be recognized as a good, but which, unsatisfied, may result in unhappiness. [Footnote: Compare chapter xxi, Sec 86.]

A little cup may be filled with what leaves a big one half empty. It is easy to find grounds upon which to congratulate the "average" man. All the world caters to him--ready-made clothing is measured to fit his figure, and it is sold cheap; the average restaurant consults his taste and his pocket; the average woman just suits him as a help-mate; he is much at home with his neighbors, most of whom diverge little from the average. Why strive to rise above the average--and fall into a divine discontent?

May one not say much the same of a community? Why should it strive to attain to new conquests, to awaken in its members new wants and strain to satisfy them? Does it seem self-evident that it is reasonable, in general, to multiply desires with no guarantee of their satisfaction?

I know no way of approaching the solution of this problem save from the standpoint of the Rational Social Will. We are confronted with the general problem of the desirability of civilization, with all that that implies. The life of man in some rather primitive societies has seemed in certain respects rather idyllic. The eating of the fruit of the tree, and the consequent opening of the eyes, has, time and again, seemed to result in disaster.

But was the idyllic life not an accidental thing, due to a fortuitous combination of circ.u.mstances, rather than to man"s intelligent control of a larger environment? Civilization of some sort seems inevitable. Have we any other guarantee that we can make it, in the long run, rational, than a many-sided development of man"s capacities? And must we not exercise a broad faith in the value of enlightenment, increase of knowledge, farsightedness, the cultivation of complex emotions, even at the risk of some waste of effort and some suffering to certain individuals?

Perhaps this is as good a place as any to say a word about the significance of the terms "higher" and "lower," when used in a moral sense. We have seen that John Stuart Mill made much of the distinction in his utilitarianism. Bentham appears to sin against the enlightened moral judgment in holding that, quant.i.ties of pleasure being the same, "push- pin is as good as poetry."

When we realize that the worth of things may be determined from the standpoint of the Rational Social Will, we can easily understand that some occupations and their accompanying pleasures should be rated higher than others, however satisfactory the latter may seem to certain individuals. It is not unreasonable to rate the pleasure of scientific discovery as higher than the pleasure of swallowing an oyster; and that, without following Bentham in falling back upon a quant.i.tative standard, or following Mill in maintaining that pleasures, as pleasures, differ in kind. [Footnote: See chapter xxv, Sec 107.]

CHAPTER x.x.xI

THE MORAL LAW AND MORAL IDEALS

143. DUTIES AND VIRTUES.--We saw, at the very beginning of this volume [Footnote: Chapter i, Sec 2.] that a single moral law, so abstractly stated as to cover the whole sphere of conduct, must be something so vague and indeterminate as to be practically useless as a guide to action. The admonition, "do right," does not mean anything in particular to the man who is not already well instructed as to what, in detail, const.i.tutes right action. Nor do we make ourselves more intelligible, when we say to him "be good."

It seems to mean something more when we say "act justly" or "be just"; "speak the truth," or "be truthful." And the more we particularize, the more we help the individual confronted with concrete problems--the only problems with which life actually confronts us.

This is as it should be. Duties and virtues are expressions of the Rational Social Will, and that will is a mere abstraction except as it is incorporated, with a wealth of detail, in human societies. It would be hard for the small boy to cla.s.sify, under any ten commandments, the innumerable company of the "don"ts" which he hears from his mother during the course of a week. He can leave such work to the moralist. But he is receiving an education in the moral law, as an expression of the social will, through the whole seven days.

If we wish, we can emphasize the _moral law_, and dwell upon the _duties_ of man. On the other hand, we may lay stress upon the _virtues_, and point to _ideals_. The Greek made much of the virtues; the Christian moralist had more to say of man"s duties. In the end, there need be little discrepancy in the results. I make the same recommendation, whether I say to a man, Speak the truth! or whether I say to him, Be truthful!

It may be claimed that shades of difference make themselves apparent, where one emphasizes the law and another points to an ideal. Perhaps they do, in most minds. It certainly sounds more conceited to say: "I am trying to be virtuous," than to say: "I am trying to do my duty." On the other hand, the admonition, "Be truthful," appears to leave one a little lat.i.tude. We take the truthful man, so to speak, in the lump. If he has a strong bias toward truth-speaking, and is felt to be reliable, on the whole, it is not certain that we should rob him of his t.i.tle on the ground of one or two lapses for which weighty reasons could be urged. The admonition: "Speak the truth!" seems more uncompromising; and yet he who prefers this legal form may maintain that it is a general admonition addressed to men of sense who are supposed to be able to exercise reason.

144. THE NEGATIVE ASPECT OF THE MORAL LAW.--Why does the Moral Law, on the surface at least, appear to be so largely negative? As we look back upon our early youth, our days appear to be punctuated with punishments.

When we attain to years of discretion, this is not the case, with most of us, at least.

But when we turn to the law, in our own society or in others, we find prohibitions and penalties everywhere. Of rewards little is said. Is the social will meant to be chiefly inhibitory? Is it a check to the action of the individual?

(1) The negative aspect of the moral law is, to a considerable degree, an illusion. The social will takes us up into itself and forms us. In our early youth we are acutely conscious of the process. A vast number of the things a boy wants to do are things that do not suit the social will at all. He wants to break windows; he wants to fight other boys; he wants to be idle; his delight is in adventures not normally within the reach of, or suited to the taste of, the citizens of an ordered state. It is little wonder that the boy regards the moral law as a nuisance and the state as a suitable refuge for those suffering from senile decay.

There are individuals who scarcely get beyond this stage. They remain, even in their later years, at war with the state. From time to time, we seize them and incarcerate them. That the law _forbids_ and _punishes_, they never forget. It is chiefly for such that the criminal law exists. They are in the state, but they are not of it. They have small share in the heritage of the civilized man.

For most of us there comes a time when most prohibitions are little thought of. It has been maintained, that the law is negative partly for the reason that positive duties are too numerous to be formulated. But how numerous are the things that ought not to be done which normal men never think of doing! At this moment, I could swallow a pen, taste the ink in the ink-well, throw my papers from the window, hurl the porcelain jar on the chimney-piece at the cat next door, swing on the chandelier. I am conscious of no constraint in not doing these things. Why? I have become to some degree adjusted to the type which the social will strives to produce.

(2) And, having become so far adjusted, I recognize that the social will is distributing rewards most lavishly. The whole organism of society is its instrument. Work is found for me, and I am paid for it. If I am industrious and dependable, I am recompensed. If I am truthful, I am believed, which is no little convenience. If I am energetic and persevering, I may grow rich or be elected to office. If I am courteous, I am liked and am treated with courtesy.

Every day I am paid, in the ordinary course of things, according to my deserts. Why should society work out an extraordinary system of rewards for those whom it is already rewarding automatically?

In some cases, recourse is had to extraordinary rewards. We give prizes to children in the schools; we give medals to soldiers for distinguished service; we confer honorary degrees upon men for a variety of reasons. In monarchical countries and in their colonies, the man who earns an extraordinary reward may even pa.s.s it on, in the shape of a t.i.tle, to his descendants, as though it were original sin. But the giving of extraordinary rewards to all ordinary, normal persons would be too much.

The man who markedly offends against the moral law is not an ordinary, normal person. He is not adjusted to the social will. It is natural that he should attract especial attention. Thus the "Thou shalt not!" is given prominence. To this I might add, that punishments are cheaper and easier than extraordinary rewards. Pains are sharper than pleasures, and are easily inflicted.

(3) It is worthy of remark that, with the evolution of morality, it tends to become positive. The enlightened moral man recognizes, not merely the actual social will, but also the Rational Social Will. He may feel it his duty to do much more than society formally demands of him.

145. HOW CAN ONE KNOW THE MORAL LAW?--This question has already been answered in chapters preceding. Every man has three counsellors: (1) The "objective" morality of his community--custom, law, and public opinion, which certainly deserve to be taken very seriously; (2) his moral intuitions, which may be of the finest; and (3) his reason, which prevents him from making decisions without reflection.

Can a man who listens to these three counsellors be sure that he is right in a given decision? The sooner a man learns that he is not infallible and impeccable, the better it will be for him, for his neighbor, and for the world at large.

CHAPTER x.x.xII

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