Books: The Critique of Practical Reason
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Immanuel Kant >> The Critique of Practical Reason
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{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 15}
The notion of duty, therefore, requires in the action,
objectively, agreement with the law, and, subjectively in its maxim,
that respect for the law shall be the sole mode in which the will is
determined thereby. And on this rests the distinction between the
consciousness of having acted according to duty and from duty, that
is, from respect for the law. The former (legality) is possible even
if inclinations have been the determining principles of the will;
but the latter (morality), moral worth, can be placed only in this,
that the action is done from duty, that is, simply for the sake of the
law. *
* If we examine accurately the notion of respect for persons as it
has been already laid down, we shall perceive that it always rests
on the consciousness of a duty which an example shows us, and that
respect, therefore. can never have any but a moral ground, and that it
is very good and even, in a psychological point of view, very useful
for the knowledge of mankind, that whenever we use this expression
we should attend to this secret and marvellous, yet often recurring,
regard which men in their judgement pay to the moral law.
It is of the greatest importance to attend with the utmost exactness
in all moral judgements to the subjective principle of all maxims,
that all the morality of actions may be placed in the necessity of
acting from duty and from respect for the law, not from love and
inclination for that which the actions are to produce. For men and all
created rational beings moral necessity is constraint, that is
obligation, and every action based on it is to be conceived as a duty,
not as a proceeding previously pleasing, or likely to be Pleasing to
us of our own accord. As if indeed we could ever bring it about that
without respect for the law, which implies fear, or at least
apprehension of transgression, we of ourselves, like the independent
Deity, could ever come into possession of holiness of will by the
coincidence of our will with the pure moral law becoming as it were
part of our nature, never to be shaken (in which case the law would
cease to be a command for us, as we could never be tempted to be
untrue to it).
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 20}
The moral law is in fact for the will of a perfect being a law of
holiness, but for the will of every finite rational being a law of
duty, of moral constraint, and of the determination of its actions
by respect for this law and reverence for its duty. No other
subjective principle must be assumed as a motive, else while the
action might chance to be such as the law prescribes, yet, as does not
proceed from duty, the intention, which is the thing properly in
question in this legislation, is not moral.
It is a very beautiful thing to do good to men from love to them and
from sympathetic good will, or to be just from love of order; but this
is not yet the true moral maxim of our conduct which is suitable to
our position amongst rational beings as men, when we pretend with
fanciful pride to set ourselves above the thought of duty, like
volunteers, and, as if we were independent on the command, to want
to do of our own good pleasure what we think we need no command to do.
We stand under a discipline of reason and in all our maxims must not
forget our subjection to it, nor withdraw anything therefrom, or by an
egotistic presumption diminish aught of the authority of the law
(although our own reason gives it) so as to set the determining
principle of our will, even though the law be conformed to, anywhere
else but in the law itself and in respect for this law. Duty and
obligation are the only names that we must give to our relation to the
moral law. We are indeed legislative members of a moral kingdom
rendered possible by freedom, and presented to us by reason as an
object of respect; but yet we are subjects in it, not the sovereign,
and to mistake our inferior position as creatures, and
presumptuously to reject the authority of the moral law, is already to
revolt from it in spirit, even though the letter of it is fulfilled.
With this agrees very well the possibility of such a command as:
Love God above everything, and thy neighbour as thyself. * For as a
command it requires respect for a law which commands love and does not
leave it to our own arbitrary choice to make this our principle.
Love to God, however, considered as an inclination (pathological
love), is impossible, for He is not an object of the senses. The
same affection towards men is possible no doubt, but cannot be
commanded, for it is not in the power of any man to love anyone at
command; therefore it is only practical love that is meant in that
pith of all laws. To love God means, in this sense, to like to do
His commandments; to love one's neighbour means to like to practise
all duties towards him. But the command that makes this a rule
cannot command us to have this disposition in actions conformed to
duty, but only to endeavour after it. For a command to like to do a
thing is in itself contradictory, because if we already know of
ourselves what we are bound to do, and if further we are conscious
of liking to do it, a command would be quite needless; and if we do it
not willingly, but only out of respect for the law, a command that
makes this respect the motive of our maxim would directly counteract
the disposition commanded. That law of all laws, therefore, like all
the moral precepts of the Gospel, exhibits the moral disposition in
all its perfection, in which, viewed as an ideal of holiness, it is
not attainable by any creature, but yet is the pattern which we should
strive to approach, and in an uninterrupted but infinite progress
become like to. In fact, if a rational creature could ever reach
this point, that he thoroughly likes to do all moral laws, this
would mean that there does not exist in him even the possibility of
a desire that would tempt him to deviate from them; for to overcome
such a desire always costs the subject some sacrifice and therefore
requires self-compulsion, that is, inward constraint to something that
one does not quite like to do; and no creature can ever reach this
stage of moral disposition. For, being a creature, and therefore
always dependent with respect to what be requires for complete
satisfaction, he can never be quite free from desires and
inclinations, and as these rest on physical causes, they can never
of themselves coincide with the moral law, the sources of which are
quite different; and therefore they make it necessary to found the
mental disposition of one's maxims on moral obligation, not on ready
inclination, but on respect, which demands obedience to the law,
even though one may not like it; not on love, which apprehends no
inward reluctance of the will towards the law. Nevertheless, this
latter, namely, love to the law (which would then cease to be a
command, and then morality, which would have passed subjectively
into holiness, would cease to be virtue) must be the constant though
unattainable goal of his endeavours. For in the case of what we highly
esteem, but yet (on account of the consciousness of our weakness)
dread, the increased facility of satisfying it changes the most
reverential awe into inclination, and respect into love; at least this
would be the perfection of a disposition devoted to the law, if it
were possible for a creature to attain it.
* This law is in striking contrast with the principle of private
happiness which some make the supreme principle of morality. This
would be expressed thus: Love thyself above everything, and God and
thy neighbour for thine own sake.
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 25}
This reflection is intended not so much to clear up the
evangelical command just cited, in order to prevent religious
fanaticism in regard to love of God, but to define accurately the
moral disposition with regard directly to our duties towards men,
and to check, or if possible prevent, a merely moral fanaticism
which infects many persons. The stage of morality on which man (and,
as far as we can see, every rational creature) stands is respect for
the moral law. The disposition that he ought to have in obeying this
is to obey it from duty, not from spontaneous inclination, or from
an endeavour taken up from liking and unbidden; and this proper
moral condition in which he can always be is virtue, that is, moral
disposition militant, and not holiness in the fancied possession of
a perfect purity of the disposition of the will. It is nothing but
moral fanaticism and exaggerated self-conceit that is infused into the
mind by exhortation to actions as noble, sublime, and magnanimous,
by which men are led into the delusion that it is not duty, that is,
respect for the law, whose yoke (an easy yoke indeed, because reason
itself imposes it on us) they must bear, whether they like it or
not, that constitutes the determining principle of their actions,
and which always humbles them while they obey it; fancying that
those actions are expected from them, not from duty, but as pure
merit. For not only would they, in imitating such deeds from such a
principle, not have fulfilled the spirit of the law in the least,
which consists not in the legality of the action (without regard to
principle), but in the subjection of the mind to the law; not only
do they make the motives pathological (seated in sympathy or
self-love), not moral (in the law), but they produce in this way a
vain, high-flying, fantastic way of thinking, flattering themselves
with a spontaneous goodness of heart that needs neither spur nor
bridle, for which no command is needed, and thereby forgetting their
obligation, which they ought to think of rather than merit. Indeed
actions of others which are done with great sacrifice, and merely
for the sake of duty, may be praised as noble and sublime, but only so
far as there are traces which suggest that they were done wholly out
of respect for duty and not from excited feelings. If these,
however, are set before anyone as examples to be imitated, respect for
duty (which is the only true moral feeling) must be employed as the
motive- this severe holy precept which never allows our vain self-love
to dally with pathological impulses (however analogous they may be
to morality), and to take a pride in meritorious worth. Now if we
search we shall find for all actions that are worthy of praise a law
of duty which commands, and does not leave us to choose what may be
agreeable to our inclinations. This is the only way of representing
things that can give a moral training to the soul, because it alone is
capable of solid and accurately defined principles.
If fanaticism in its most general sense is a deliberate over
stepping of the limits of human reason, then moral fanaticism is
such an over stepping of the bounds that practical pure reason sets to
mankind, in that it forbids us to place the subjective determining
principle of correct actions, that is, their moral motive, in anything
but the law itself, or to place the disposition which is thereby
brought into the maxims in anything but respect for this law, and
hence commands us to take as the supreme vital principle of all
morality in men the thought of duty, which strikes down all
arrogance as well as vain self-love.
If this is so, it is not only writers of romance or sentimental
educators (although they may be zealous opponents of
sentimentalism), but sometimes even philosophers, nay, even the
severest of all, the Stoics, that have brought in moral fanaticism
instead of a sober but wise moral discipline, although the
fanaticism of the latter was more heroic, that of the former of an
insipid, effeminate character; and we may, without hypocrisy, say of
the moral teaching of the Gospel, that it first, by the purity of
its moral principle, and at the same time by its suitability to the
limitations of finite beings, brought all the good conduct of men
under the discipline of a duty plainly set before their eyes, which
does not permit them to indulge in dreams of imaginary moral
perfections; and that it also set the bounds of humility (that is,
self-knowledge) to self-conceit as well as to self-love, both which
are ready to mistake their limits.
Duty! Thou sublime and mighty name that dost embrace nothing
charming or insinuating, but requirest submission, and yet seekest not
to move the will by threatening aught that would arouse natural
aversion or terror, but merely holdest forth a law which of itself
finds entrance into the mind, and yet gains reluctant reverence
(though not always obedience), a law before which all inclinations are
dumb, even though they secretly counter-work it; what origin is
there worthy of thee, and where is to be found the root of thy noble
descent which proudly rejects all kindred with the inclinations; a
root to be derived from which is the indispensable condition of the
only worth which men can give themselves?
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 30}
It can be nothing less than a power which elevates man above himself
(as a part of the world of sense), a power which connects him with
an order of things that only the understanding can conceive, with a
world which at the same time commands the whole sensible world, and
with it the empirically determinable existence of man in time, as well
as the sum total of all ends (which totality alone suits such
unconditional practical laws as the moral). This power is nothing
but personality, that is, freedom and independence on the mechanism of
nature, yet, regarded also as a faculty of a being which is subject to
special laws, namely, pure practical laws given by its own reason;
so that the person as belonging to the sensible world is subject to
his own personality as belonging to the intelligible [supersensible]
world. It is then not to be wondered at that man, as belonging to both
worlds, must regard his own nature in reference to its second and
highest characteristic only with reverence, and its laws with the
highest respect.
On this origin are founded many expressions which designate the
worth of objects according to moral ideas. The moral law is holy
(inviolable). Man is indeed unholy enough, but he must regard humanity
in his own person as holy. In all creation every thing one chooses and
over which one has any power, may be used merely as means; man
alone, and with him every rational creature, is an end in himself.
By virtue of the autonomy of his freedom he is the subject of the
moral law, which is holy. just for this reason every will, even
every person's own individual will, in relation to itself, is
restricted to the condition of agreement with the autonomy of the
rational being, that is to say, that it is not to be subject to any
purpose which cannot accord with a law which might arise from the will
of the passive subject himself; the latter is, therefore, never to
be employed merely as means, but as itself also, concurrently, an end.
We justly attribute this condition even to the Divine will, with
regard to the rational beings in the world, which are His creatures,
since it rests on their personality, by which alone they are ends in
themselves.
This respect-inspiring idea of personality which sets before our
eyes the sublimity of our nature (in its higher aspect), while at
the same time it shows us the want of accord of our conduct with it
and thereby strikes down self-conceit, is even natural to the
commonest reason and easily observed. Has not every even moderately
honourable man sometimes found that, where by an otherwise inoffensive
lie he might either have withdrawn himself from an unpleasant
business, or even have procured some advantages for a loved and
well-deserving friend, he has avoided it solely lest he should despise
himself secretly in his own eyes? When an upright man is in the
greatest distress, which he might have avoided if he could only have
disregarded duty, is he not sustained by the consciousness that he has
maintained humanity in its proper dignity in his own person and
honoured it, that he has no reason to be ashamed of himself in his own
sight, or to dread the inward glance of self-examination? This
consolation is not happiness, it is not even the smallest part of
it, for no one would wish to have occasion for it, or would,
perhaps, even desire a life in such circumstances. But he lives, and
he cannot endure that he should be in his own eyes unworthy of life.
This inward peace is therefore merely negative as regards what can
make life pleasant; it is, in fact, only the escaping the danger of
sinking in personal worth, after everything else that is valuable
has been lost. It is the effect of a respect for something quite
different from life, something in comparison and contrast with which
life with all its enjoyment has no value. He still lives only
because it is his duty, not because he finds anything pleasant in
life.
Such is the nature of the true motive of pure practical reason; it
is no other than the pure moral law itself, inasmuch as it makes us
conscious of the sublimity of our own supersensible existence and
subjectively produces respect for their higher nature in men who are
also conscious of their sensible existence and of the consequent
dependence of their pathologically very susceptible nature. Now with
this motive may be combined so many charms and satisfactions of life
that even on this account alone the most prudent choice of a
rational Epicurean reflecting on the greatest advantage of life
would declare itself on the side of moral conduct, and it may even
be advisable to join this prospect of a cheerful enjoyment of life
with that supreme motive which is already sufficient of itself; but
only as a counterpoise to the attractions which vice does not fail
to exhibit on the opposite side, and not so as, even in the smallest
degree, to place in this the proper moving power when duty is in
question. For that would be just the same as to wish to taint the
purity of the moral disposition in its source. The majesty of duty has
nothing to do with enjoyment of life; it has its special law and its
special tribunal, and though the two should be never so well shaken
together to be given well mixed, like medicine, to the sick soul,
yet they will soon separate of themselves; and if they do not, the
former will not act; and although physical life might gain somewhat in
force, the moral life would fade away irrecoverably.
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 35}
Critical Examination of the Analytic of Pure Practical Reason.
By the critical examination of a science, or of a portion of it,
which constitutes a system by itself, I understand the inquiry and
proof why it must have this and no other systematic form, when we
compare it with another system which is based on a similar faculty
of knowledge. Now practical and speculative reason are based on the
same faculty, so far as both are pure reason. Therefore the difference
in their systematic form must be determined by the comparison of both,
and the ground of this must be assigned.
The Analytic of pure theoretic reason had to do with the knowledge
of such objects as may have been given to the understanding, and was
obliged therefore to begin from intuition and consequently (as this is
always sensible) from sensibility; and only after that could advance
to concepts (of the objects of this intuition), and could only end
with principles after both these had preceded. On the contrary,
since practical reason has not to do with objects so as to know
them, but with its own faculty of realizing them (in accordance with
the knowledge of them), that is, with a will which is a causality,
inasmuch as reason contains its determining principle; since,
consequently, it has not to furnish an object of intuition, but as
practical reason has to furnish only a law (because the notion of
causality always implies the reference to a law which determines the
existence of the many in relation to one another); hence a critical
examination of the Analytic of reason, if this is to be practical
reason (and this is properly the problem), must begin with the
possibility of practical principles a priori. Only after that can it
proceed to concepts of the objects of a practical reason, namely,
those of absolute good and evil, in order to assign them in accordance
with those principles (for prior to those principles they cannot
possibly be given as good and evil by any faculty of knowledge), and
only then could the section be concluded with the last chapter,
that, namely, which treats of the relation of the pure practical
reason to the sensibility and of its necessary influence thereon,
which is a priori cognisable, that is, of the moral sentiment. Thus
the Analytic of the practical pure reason has the whole extent of
the conditions of its use in common with the theoretical, but in
reverse order. The Analytic of pure theoretic reason was divided
into transcendental Aesthetic and transcendental Logic, that of the
practical reversely into Logic and Aesthetic of pure practical
reason (if I may, for the sake of analogy merely, use these
designations, which are not quite suitable). This logic again was
there divided into the Analytic of concepts and that of principles:
here into that of principles and concepts. The Aesthetic also had in
the former case two parts, on account of the two kinds of sensible
intuition; here the sensibility is not considered as a capacity of
intuition at all, but merely as feeling (which can be a subjective
ground of desire), and in regard to it pure practical reason admits no
further division.
It is also easy to see the reason why this division into two parts
with its subdivision was not actually adopted here (as one might
have been induced to attempt by the example of the former critique).
For since it is pure reason that is here considered in its practical
use, and consequently as proceeding from a priori principles, and
not from empirical principles of determination, hence the division
of the analytic of pure practical reason must resemble that of a
syllogism; namely, proceeding from the universal in the major
premiss (the moral principle), through a minor premiss containing a
subsumption of possible actions (as good or evil) under the former, to
the conclusion, namely, the subjective determination of the will (an
interest in the possible practical good, and in the maxim founded on
it). He who has been able to convince himself of the truth of the
positions occurring in the Analytic will take pleasure in such
comparisons; for they justly suggest the expectation that we may
perhaps some day be able to discern the unity of the whole faculty
of reason (theoretical as well as practical) and be able to derive all
from one principle, which, is what human reason inevitably demands, as
it finds complete satisfaction only in a perfectly systematic unity of
its knowledge.
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 40}
If now we consider also the contents of the knowledge that we can
have of a pure practical reason, and by means of it, as shown by the
Analytic, we find, along with a remarkable analogy between it and
the theoretical, no less remarkable differences. As regards the
theoretical, the faculty of a pure rational cognition a priori could
be easily and evidently proved by examples from sciences (in which, as
they put their principles to the test in so many ways by methodical
use, there is not so much reason as in common knowledge to fear a
secret mixture of empirical principles of cognition). But, that pure
reason without the admixture of any empirical principle is practical
of itself, this could only be shown from the commonest practical use
of reason, by verifying the fact, that every man's natural reason
acknowledges the supreme practical principle as the supreme law of his
will- a law completely a priori and not depending on any sensible
data. It was necessary first to establish and verify the purity of its
origin, even in the judgement of this common reason, before science
could take it in hand to make use of it, as a fact, that is, prior
to all disputation about its possibility, and all the consequences
that may be drawn from it. But this circumstance may be readily
explained from what has just been said; because practical pure
reason must necessarily begin with principles, which therefore must be
the first data, the foundation of all science, and cannot be derived
from it. It was possible to effect this verification of moral
principles as principles of a pure reason quite well, and with
sufficient certainty, by a single appeal to the judgement of common
sense, for this reason, that anything empirical which might slip
into our maxims as a determining principle of the will can be detected
at once by the feeling of pleasure or pain which necessarily
attaches to it as exciting desire; whereas pure practical reason
positively refuses to admit this feeling into its principle as a
condition. The heterogeneity of the determining principles (the
empirical and rational) is clearly detected by this resistance of a
practically legislating reason against every admixture of inclination,
and by a peculiar kind of sentiment, which, however, does not
precede the legislation of the practical reason, but, on the contrary,
is produced by this as a constraint, namely, by the feeling of a
respect such as no man has for inclinations of whatever kind but for
the law only; and it is detected in so marked and prominent a manner
that even the most uninstructed cannot fail to see at once in an
example presented to him, that empirical principles of volition may
indeed urge him to follow their attractions, but that he can never
be expected to obey anything but the pure practical law of reason
alone.
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