Books: A Handbook of Ethical Theory

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But it is not necessary to speak in this way. We may form some conception
of the real, rational social will, without being compelled to know all
that man is capable of becoming and without being able to forecast the
details of his environment in the distant future.

We may attain to our conception by determining clearly the nature of the
aims man sets before himself in proportion to his growing rationality. We
can see in what direction man moves as he develops and becomes
enlightened. From this standpoint, the aims of the rational social will
appear to be as follows:

(1) The harmonious satisfaction of the impulses and desires of man.

(2) Such an unfolding of his powers as will increase their range and
variety, broaden man's horizon, and give him an increased control over
erratic impulses.

(3) The bringing about of a social state in which the will of each
individual within a community counts for something, and not merely the
will of a chosen few.

(4) The broadening of the conception of what constitutes a community, so
that ever increasing numbers are regarded as having claims that must be
recognized.

(5) The taking into consideration of the whole of life; the whole life of
individuals and of communities, so that the insistent present shall not
be given undue weight, as against the future.

85. THE ETHICS OF REASON.--The doctrine of the Rational Social Will might
very properly be called the Ethics of Reason. It is not to be confounded
with the so-called "tribal" or "group" ethics. To be sure, it has to do
with man as a social being; but this is characteristic of ethical systems
generally. Man is a social being; he is one essentially, and not
accidentally. That he should be a member of a tribe, or of any lesser
group than the whole body of sentient and reasonable beings, may not
unjustly be regarded as an historical accident, as a function of his
position in the scale of development.

In judging the doctrine of the rational social will, bear in mind the
following:

(1) It rests upon the basis of the impulsive and volitional nature of
man.

(2) It recognizes reason in the individual, and declares that only so far
as he is rational is he the proper subject of ethics at all. Erratic and
uncontrolled impulse knows no moral law.

(3) It sees reason in the customs, laws and public opinion of the tribe
or the state, while recognizing a higher tribunal before the bar of which
all these are summoned.

(4) It appeals to the reason of the race--the reason appropriate to the
race as enlightened and freed from the shackles of local prejudice and
restricted sympathy.

(5) It recognizes that man can give expression to his nature, can satisfy
his desires and exercise his reason, only as aided by his physical and
social environment. It emphasizes the necessity of a certain reverence
for the actual historical development of human societies, with their
institutions. Such institutions are the embodiment of reason--not pure
reason, but reason struggling to get itself expressed as it can. He who
would legislate for man independently of such institutions has left the
solid earth and man far behind. He is suspended in the void.

86. THE DEVELOPMENT OF CIVILIZATION.--Civilizations differ; some are more
material, laying stress upon man's conquest of his material environment.
Others exhibit a greater appreciation of idealistic elements, the pursuit
of knowledge for its own sake, the cultivation of the fine arts, the
development of humanitarian sentiment. For civilization in general it is
not necessary to advance an argument. But there are elements in many
civilizations which the thoughtful man may feel called upon to defend.

Civilization, taken generally, scarcely needs a labored justification
because it is only in a civilization of some kind or other that we can
look for a guarantee of the broad social will, for the reign of reason.
Undeveloped man is at the mercy of nature; he is the sport of history.
Where developed man can raise his voice, man possessed of power and
capable of taking broad views of things, the rule of reason may be set
up. A deliberate attempt may be made to recognize many wills, harmonize
discords. Order may be brought out of chaos, and the limits of the realm
within the borders of which order reigns may be indefinitely extended.

Such is the general ethical justification for the rise of a civilization.
It is an expression of, and an instrument for the realization of, the
broader social will. That a given civilization may be imperfect in both
respects has been made clear in the last chapter. In the light of the
general justification for civilization many questions may be raised
touching this or that element in civilizations as we observe them.

Thus, it may be pointed out that as man progresses in civilization he
calls into being a multitude of new wants, many of which may have to
remain unsatisfied. [Footnote: Compare chapter xxx, Sec 142.] It may be
asserted that literature, art and science are, in fact, cherished as
though they were ends in themselves, and not means called into existence
to serve the interests of man. Absorbing as it may be to him, how can the
philologist prove that his science is useful to humanity either present
or prospective? How shall the astronomer, who may frankly admit that he
cannot conceive that nine tenths of the work with which he occupies
himself can ever be of any actual use to anyone, justify himself in
devoting his life to it? Shall a curiosity, which seems to lead nowhere,
be satisfied? And if so, on what ground?

Moreover, every civilization recognizes that some wills are to be given a
more unequivocal recognition than others. Inequality is the rule. A man
does not put his own children upon a level with those of his neighbor.
Even in the most democratic of states men do not stand upon the same
level. In dealing with our own fellows we do not employ the same weights
and measures as in dealing with foreigners. Who loses his appetite for
his breakfast when he reads that there have been inundations in China or
that an African tribe has come under the "protection" of a race of
another color? The white man has added to his burden--the burden of
economic advantage present or prospective--and we find it as it should
be. Finally, when we bring within our horizon the "interests" of humbler
sentient creatures, we see that they are unhesitatingly subordinated to
our own. Some attention is paid to them in civilized communities. They
are recognized, not merely by custom and public opinion, but, to some
degree, even by law. Men are punished for treating certain animals in
certain ways. But why? Have the animals rights? There is no topic within
the sphere of morals upon which moralists speak with more wavering and
uncertain accents. [Footnote: See chapter XXX, Sec 141.]

I know of no way in which such problems as the above can be approached
other than by the appeal to reason, as reason has been understood in the
pages preceding. The reign of reason implies the recognition of all
wills, _so far as such a recognition is within the bounds of
possibility_. The escape from chaos lies in the evolution of the
enlightened social will. Man must be raised in the scale, in order that
he may have control; control over himself, over other men, over the
brutes. And he cannot rise except through the historical evolution of a
social order. This implies the development of the capacities latent in
man.

To decide that any of his capacities shall be allowed to remain dormant
may threaten future development. To cut off certain arts and sciences as
not palpably serving the interests of man is a dangerous thing. To ignore
the actual history of man's efforts to become a rational being, and to
place, hence, all wills upon the one level, is to frustrate the desired
end. It is not thus that the reign of reason can be established.

CHAPTER XXII

THE INDIVIDUAL AND THE SOCIAL WILL

87. MAN'S MULTIPLE ALLEGIANCE.--We have seen that each man has his place
in a social order. This order is the expression and the embodiment of the
social will, which accepts him, protects him, gives him a share in the
goods the community has so far attained, recognizes his individual will
in that it accords to him rights, and prescribes his course of conduct,
that is, defines his duties or obligations.

The social will is authoritative; it issues commands and enforces
obedience. With its commands the individual may be in sympathy or he may
not. But upon obedience the social will insists, and it compasses its
ends by the bestowal of rewards or the infliction of punishment. The
moral law to which man thus finds himself subject is something not wholly
foreign to the nature of the individual. It has come into being as an
expression of the nature of man. That nature the individual shares with
his fellows.

Obedience to the social will would be a relatively simple matter were
that will always unequivocally and unmistakably expressed, and did all
the members of a community feel the pressure of the social will in the
same manner and to the same degree. But the whole matter is indefinitely
complicated by what may be called man's multiple allegiance.

Organized societies do not consist of undifferentiated units. They are
not mere aggregates, both are highly complex in their internal
constitution. A conscientious man may feel that he owes duties to
himself, to his immediate family, to his kindred, to his neighborhood, to
his social class, to his political party, to his church, to his country,
to its allies, to humanity. The social will does not bring its pressure
to bear upon the man who holds one place in the social order just as it
does upon him who holds another.

Nor are the injunctions laid upon a man always in harmony. The demands of
family may seem to conflict with those of neighborhood or of profession;
duties to the church may seem to conflict with duties to the state;
patriotism may appear to be more or less in conflict with an interest in
humanity taken broadly. That the individual should often approach in
doubt and hesitation the decision as to what it is, on the whole, his
duty to do, is not surprising. Nor is it surprising that individuals the
most conscientious should find it impossible to be at one on the subject
of rights and duties. Two men may agree perfectly that it is right to "do
good," and be quite unable to agree just what good it is right to do now,
or with whom one should make a beginning.

88. THE APPEAL TO REASON.--Were there no appeal save to the social will
as it happens to make its pressure felt upon this person or that, in this
situation or that, there could be no issue to dispute. Dispute would be
useless and sheer dogmatism would prevail. But there is such an appeal
and men do make it, where they are in any degree enlightened. It is the
appeal to Reason.

He who says: "I have especial rights, just because I am Smith, and so has
my father, because he is my father," has no ground of argument with
Jones, who says: "I have especial rights because I am Jones, and so has
my father, because he is my father." Upon such a basis, or lack of basis,
all discussion becomes fatuous. But if Smith and Jones agree that duties
to self should only within limits be recognized, and that duties to
family have their place upon the larger background of the will of the
state, they may, at least, begin to talk.

The multiple allegiance of the individual does not mean that a man is
subject to a multitude of independent masters whose several claims have
no relation to one another. An appeal may be made from lower to higher.

We have seen that, in the organization of a given society, the social
will may be imperfectly expressed. It may come about that the place in
the social order assigned to a man cramps and pains him, or forces him to
exertions which seem intolerable. He may passively accept it, or he may
set himself in opposition to the social will as it is, appealing to a
better social will. The fact that an individual finds himself out of
harmony with given aspects of the social will characteristic of his age
and country is no proof that he desires to set himself up in opposition
to the social will in general.

In a given instance, he may be, from the standpoint of existing law, a
criminal. Yet he may reverence the law above his fellows. His aberrations
need not be arbitrary wanderings, prompted by selfish impulses. He may
leave the beaten track because he does not approve of it, which is a very
different thing from disliking it. Some will judge him to be a pestilent
fellow; some will rate him as a reformer, a prophet, perhaps a martyr.
Neither judgment is of the least value so long as it reflects merely the
tastes or prejudices of the individual. Each must justify itself before
the bar of reason, if it would have a respectful hearing. A reason must
be given for conservatism and a reason must be given for reform.

89. THE ETHICS OF REASON AND THE VARYING MORAL CODES.--Several
advantages may be claimed for the ethical doctrine I have been
advocating:

(1) It gives a relative justification to the varying moral codes of
communities of men in the past and in the present. A code may, even when
imperfect from some higher point of view, fit well a community at a given
stage of its development. It may be a man's duty to obey its injunctions,
even where they are not seen to be the wisest possible. One reason for
bowing to custom is that it _is_ custom; one reason for obeying laws
is that they _are_ laws. They embody the permanence and stability of
the social will, and have a _prima facie_ claim to our reverence.

(2) In recognizing the social will as something deeper and broader than
the will of the individual, as having its roots in the remote past and as
reaching into the distant future, it admits the futility of devising
utopian schemes which would bless humanity in defiance of the actual
expressions of the social will revealed in the development of human
societies. The whim of the individual cannot well be substituted for the
settled purpose of the community--a purpose ripened by generations of
experience, and adjusted to what is possible under existing conditions.

(3) On the other hand, it distinguishes between lower and higher ethical
codes, or codes lower or higher in certain of their aspects. It sets a
standard of comparison; it recognizes progress towards a goal.

(4) And, in all this, it does not appear to decide _arbitrarily_
either what is the goal of man's moral efforts or what means must be
adopted to attain to it. It rests upon a study of man; man as he has
been, man as he is, in all the manifold relations in which he stands to
his environment, physical and social.

There are other ethical theories in the field, of course. Some of them
are advocated by men of original genius and of no little learning. Some
deserve more attention than others, but all should have a hearing, at
least. A close scrutiny will often reveal that advocates of different
theories are by no means so far apart as a hasty reading of their works
would suggest. Writers the most diverse may assist one to a comprehension
of one's own theory. Its implications may be developed, objections to it
may be suggested, its strong points may stand revealed. By no means the
least important part of a work on ethics is its treatment of the schools
of the moralists. If it be written with any degree of fairness, it may
contain what will serve the reader with an antidote to erroneous opinions
on the part of the writer. To a study of the most important schools of
the moralists I shall now turn.

PART VII

THE SCHOOLS OF THE MORALISTS

CHAPTER XXIII

INTUITIONISM

90. WHAT IS IT?--"We come into the world," said Epictetus, "with no
natural notion of a right-angled triangle, or of a quarter-tone, or of a
half-tone; but we learn each of these things by a certain transmission
according to art; and for this reason those who do not know them do not
think that they know them. But as to good and evil, and beautiful and
ugly, and becoming and unbecoming, and happiness and misfortune, and
proper and improper, and what we ought to do and what we ought not to do,
who ever came into the world without having an innate idea of them?"
[Footnote: _Discourses_, Book II, chapter xi, translation by GEORGE
LONG.] Seneca adds his testimony to the self-luminous character of moral
truth: "Whatever things tend to make us better or happier are either
obvious or easily discovered." [Footnote: _On Benefits_, Book VII,
chapter i.]

With the general spirit of these utterances the typical intuitionist is
in sympathy, although he need not assent to the doctrine of innate ideas,
nor need he hold that all moral truths are equally self-evident. There
are intuitionists of various classes, and there are sufficiently notable
differences of opinion. Still, all intuitionists believe that some moral
truth, at least, is revealed to the individual by direct inspection
(_intueor_), and that we must be content with such evidence and must
not seek for proof. It may be maintained that our moral judgments--or
some of them--are the result of "an immediate discernment of the natures
of things by the understanding." and appeal may be made to the analogy
furnished by mathematical truths. [Footnote: This appeal has been made by
famous intuitionists from the seventeenth century to the nineteenth--
Cudworth, More, Locke, Clarke, Price, Whewell.]

91. VARIETIES OF INTUITIONISM.--Forms of intuitionism have been
conveniently classified as Perceptional, Dogmatic and Philosophical.
[Footnote: SIDGWICK, The Methods of Ethics, Book I, chapter viii, Sec 4.]
To this nomenclature it may be objected that the term "dogmatic" carries
with it a certain flavor of disapprobation, and predisposes one to the
assumption of a critical attitude, while the term "philosophical" has the
reverse suggestion, and smacks of special pleading. While admitting that
there is something in the objection, I retain the convenient terms,
merely warning the reader to be on his guard.

(1) Perceptional Intuitionism falls back upon the analogy of perception
in general. I seem to perceive by direct inspection that my blotter is
green, and that my penholder is longer than my pencil. I do not seek for
evidence; I do not have recourse to any chain of reasonings to establish
the fact. And I am concerned here with facts, not with some general
proposition applicable to many facts. Even so, I may maintain that, in
specific situations, the rightness or wrongness of given courses of
action may be perceived immediately.

He who accepts the spontaneous deliverances of his conscience, when
confronted with the necessity of making a decision, as revelations of
moral truth, may be called a perceptional intuitionist. The deliverances
must, however, be spontaneous and immediate, not the result of reasoning.
If a man reasons, if he falls back upon general considerations, if he
looks into the future and weighs the consequences of his act, and, as a
result, decides what he ought to do, he is no longer a perceptional
intuitionist.

The perceptional intuitionist, consistently and unreservedly such, is
rather an ideal construction than an actually existing person. Most men,
on certain occasions, are inclined to say, "I feel this to be right, and
will do it, although I cannot support my decision by giving reasons."
Many men are, at times, tempted to maintain that a given course of action
is evidently right and should be followed irrespective of consequences.
But this is not the habitual attitude even of men very little gifted with
reflection, and it is highly unsatisfactory to those who have the habit
of thinking.

Primitive man supports his decisions by an appeal to custom. Civilized
man turns to custom, to law, or to general principles of some sort, which
he accepts as authoritative, and which he regards as having a bearing
upon the particular instance in question. That individual decisions
should be capable of some sort of justification by the adduction of a
reason or reasons is generally admitted. No sane man would maintain the
general proposition that the consequences of acts should be wholly
disregarded in determining whether they are or are not desirable.

(2) Thus, Perceptional Intuitionism gives place to what has been called
Dogmatic Intuitionism--to the doctrine that certain general moral rules
can be immediately perceived to be valid. The application of such general
rules to particular instances implies discrimination and the use of
reason.

Here decisions are not wholly unsupported. Reasons may be asked for and
given. In answer to the question: Why should I say this or that? it may
be said: Because the law of veracity demands it. In answer to the
question: Why should I act thus? it may be said: Because it is just, or
is in accordance with the dictates of benevolence. The general rule is
accepted as intuitively evident, but it is incumbent upon the individual
to use his judgment in determining what may properly fall under the
general rule.

But there are rules and rules. It is not easy to draw a sharp line
between Perceptional Intuitionism and Dogmatic, just as it is not easy in
other fields to distinguish sharply between knowledge given directly in
perception, and knowledge in which more or less conscious processes of
inference play a part. Do I perceive the man whom I see, when I look into
a mirror, to be behind the mirror or in front of it? Do I perceive the
whereabouts of the coach which I hear rattling by my window, or does
reasoning play its part in giving me information? And if I follow my
conscience in not withholding from the cabman the small customary fee in
addition to his fare, am I prompted by an unreasoned perception of the
rightness of my act, or am I influenced by general considerations--the
thought of what is customary, the belief that gratuities should not be
withheld where services of a certain kind are rendered, etc.?

Even so, it is difficult to draw a sharp line between Dogmatic
Intuitionists and Philosophical, or to regard Dogmatic Intuitionists as a
clearly defined class of any sort. A man may accept it as self-evident
that a waiter should receive ten per cent of the amount of his bill; a
woman may find it obviously proper that an old lady should wear purple.
Those little given to reflection may accept such maxims as these without
attempting to justify them by falling back upon any more general rule. We
all find about us human beings who have their minds stored with a
multitude of maxims not greatly different from those adduced, and who
find them serviceable in guiding their actions. But thoughtful men can
scarcely be content with such a modicum of reason, and they distinguish
between ultimate principles and minor maxims which stand in need of
justification by their reference to principles.

The intuitional moralists by profession draw this distinction. We find
them setting forth as ultimate a limited number of ethical principles of
a high degree of generality. It is obvious that, the more general the
principle, the more room for conscious reasoning in its interpretation
and application. The man to whom it appears as in the nature of things
suitable that the waiter should receive his ten per cent is relieved from
many perplexities which may beset the man who feels assured only of the
general truth that it is right to be benevolent.

A glance at a few of the moralists who are treated in the history of
ethics as representative intuitionists reveals that they are little in
harmony as touching the particular moral intuitions which they urge as
the foundation of ethics.

Thus, John Locke maintains that from the idea of God, and of ourselves as
rational beings, a science of morality may be deduced demonstratively; a
science: "wherein I doubt not but from self-evident propositions, by
necessary consequences, as incontestible as those in mathematics, the
measures of right and wrong might be made out to anyone that will apply
himself with the same indifferency and attention to the one, as he does
to the other of those sciences." [Footnote: _Essay Concerning Human
Understanding_, Book IV, chapter iii, Sec 18.]

Among Locke's self-evident propositions or moral axioms we find: where
there is no property there is no injustice; no government allows absolute
liberty; all men are originally free and equal; parents have the power to
control their children till they come of age; the right of property is
based upon work, but is limited by the supply of property left for others
to enjoy. [Footnote: See above, chapter iii, Sec 10.]

These axioms cannot be identified with Samuel Clarke's four chief rules
of righteousness, which inculcate: piety toward God, equity in our
dealings with men, benevolence, and sobriety. [Footnote: _A Discourse
concerning the Unalterable Relations of Natural Religion_, Prop. I.]
Richard Price gives us still another choice, in dwelling upon our
obligation as regards piety, prudence, beneficence, gratitude, veracity,
the fulfillment of promises, and justice. [Footnote: _A Review of the
Principal Questions and Difficulties in Morals_, chapter vii.] And
Whewell, emulating the performance of Euclid, tried to build up a system
of morals upon axioms embodying the seven principles of benevolence,
justice, truth, purity, order, earnestness, and moral purpose. [Footnote:
_The Elements of Morality_, Book III, chapter iv.]

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