Handbook of Ethical Theory by George Stuart Fullerton (bill gates books recommendations .txt) 📖

that it can be desired, for some persons do actually desire it. But that it is desirable in any sense cannot be inferred from the fact that all men desire something else, namely, their own individual happiness.

We must, then, look further for the proof of the utilitarian principle. Henry Sidgwick, that admirable scholar and most judicial mind, falls back upon certain intuitions which, he conceives, present themselves as ultimate and unassailable. He writes:

“Let us reflect upon the clearest and most certain of our moral intuitions. I find that I undoubtedly seem to perceive, as clearly and certainly as I see any axiom in Arithmetic or Geometry, that it is ‘right’ and ‘reasonable’ for me to treat others as I should think that I myself ought to be treated under similar conditions, and to do what I believe to be ultimately conducive to universal Good or Happiness.”

And again: “The propositions, ‘I ought not to prefer a present lesser good to a future greater good,’ and ‘I ought not to prefer my own lesser good to the greater good of another,’ do present themselves as self-evident; as much (e. g.) as the mathematical axiom that ‘if equals be added to equals the wholes are equal.’” [Footnote: The Methods of Ethics, concluding chapter, Sec 5, and Book III, chapter xiii, Sec 3.]

Whether these intuitions will be accepted as furnishing an indisputably sound basis for utilitarianism will depend upon one’s attitude toward intuitions in general and the list of intuitions one is inclined to accept. It is significant that Sidgwick does not accept as self-evident such subordinate propositions as, “I ought to speak the truth.” He regards their authority as derived from the Greatest Happiness Principle.

109. THE DISTRIBUTION OF HAPPINESS.—The man who accepts the Greatest Happiness Principle as the sole basis of his ethical doctrine is faced with the problem of its application in detail. The “greatest good of the greatest number” is a vague expression. What is properly understood by “the greatest number”? and upon what principle shall “lots” of happiness be assigned to each? Very puzzling questions arise when we approach the problem of the distribution of pleasures and the calculation of their values. Let us look at them.

I. Who should be considered in the Distribution?

(1) Shall we aim directly at the happiness of all men now living? or shall we content ourselves with a smaller number? Certainly, with increasing intelligence and broadening sympathies, men tend toward a more embracing benevolence.

(2) Shall we admit to the circle generations yet unborn? and, if so, how far into the future should we look?

(3) Should we make a deliberate attempt to increase the number of those who may share the common fund of happiness, by striving for an increase in the number of births? This end has been consciously sought for divers reasons. The ancestor-worship of China has made the Chinaman eagerly desirous of leaving behind him those who would devote themselves to him after he has departed this life. Nations ancient and modern have endeavored to strengthen the state by providing for an increase in its population. Shall a similar end be pursued for the ethical purpose of widening the circle of those who shall live and be happy? Most ethical teachers do not appear to have regarded this as a corollary to the doctrine of benevolence.

(4) Shall we enlarge the circle so as to include the lower animals? As Bentham expressed it: The question is not, “Can they reason? nor, Can they talk? but, Can they suffer?” [Footnote: Principles of Morals and Legislation, chapter xvii, Sec 4.]

II. How should the “lots” of happiness be measured?

(1) Should everybody count as one, and nobody as more than one? in other words, should strict impartiality be aimed at?

Dr. Westermarck’s striking reply to the argument for impartiality as urged by Professor Sidgwick has already been quoted. [Footnote: See chapter v, Sec 16.] Let the reader glance at it again.

It must be confessed that to put one’s parents, one’s children, one’s neighbors, strangers, foreigners, the brutes, all upon the same level, is contrary to the moral judgment of savage and civilized alike. It would seem contrary to the sentiments which lie at the root of the family, the community, and the state. Nor have we reason to look forward to any future state of human society in which such lesser groups within the broad circle of humanity will be done away with, though they tend to become less exclusive in their demands upon human sympathy.

(2) Suppose that the greatest sum of happiness on the whole could be best attained by an unequal distribution—by making a limited number very happy at the expense of the rest. Would this be justifiable? It would be in harmony with the Greatest Happiness Principle, though not with the principle of the greatest happiness equally shared.

III. The question of the distribution of happiness in the life of the individual is not one to be ignored. If we are concerned only with the quantity of happiness, may we not take as the ethical precept “a short life and a merry one”—provided the brief span of years be merry enough, and there be no objection to the choice on the score of harm to others?

This problem is closely analogous to that of the distribution of pleasures to those who compose the “greatest number” taken into account. There we were concerned with the shares allotted to individuals; here we are concerned with the shares assigned to the different parts of a single life. In the attempt to solve the problem, Bentham’s criteria of intensity, certainty, purity, etc., might naturally be appealed to.

110. THE CALCULUS OF PLEASURES.—Nor are the problems which meet us less perplexing when we pass from questions of the distribution of pleasures to that of the calculus of pleasures. How are delights and miseries to be weighed, and reasonably balanced?

(1) Men desire pleasure, and they desire to avoid pain. The two seem to be opposed. But men constantly accept pleasures which entail some suffering, and they avoid pains even at the expense of some pleasure. Are, however, pleasures and pains strictly commensurable? How much admixture of pain is called for to reduce the value of a pleasure to zero? and how much pleasure, added to a pain, will make the whole emotional state predominantly a pleasurable one? A disagreeable taste and an agreeable odor may be experienced together, but they cannot be treated as an algebraic sum. If we do so treat them, we seem to fall back upon the assumption that the mere fact that the heterogeneous complex is accepted or rejected is evidence that its ingredients have been measured and compared. This is an ungrounded assumption.

(2) Undoubtedly men prefer intense pleasures to mild ones, and those long-continued to those which are fleeting. But what degree of intensity will overbalance what period of duration? Here, again, we appear to be without a unit of measure, both in the case of pleasures and of pains.

(3) Obviously, he who would distribute pleasures with impartiality must take into consideration the natures and capacities of the recipients. All are not susceptible of pleasure in the same degree, nor are all capable of enjoying the same pleasures. It is small kindness to a cat to offer it hay; nor will the miser thank us for the opportunity to enjoy the pleasures of liberality. The gift which arouses deep emotion in one man, will leave another cold. The diversity of natures would make the calculus of pleasures, in any accurate sense of the expression, a most difficult problem, even if such a calculus were admissible in the case of a single individual. [Footnote: This difficulty has not been overlooked by the Utilitarian, see BENTHAM, Principles of Morals and Legislation, chapter vi.]

III. THE DIFFICULTIES OF OTHER SCHOOLS.—It would be unjust to the utilitarian not to point out that those who advocate other doctrines must find some way of coping with the difficulties which embarrass him.

Thus, the egoist may ignore duties to others, but he cannot free himself from the problems of the distribution of happiness in his own life and of the calculus of pleasures. The intuitionist, who, among other precepts, accepts as ultimate those enjoining upon him justice and benevolence, may well ask himself toward whom these virtues are to be exercised, and whether the claims of all who belong to the class in question are identical in kind and degree. If they are not, he must find some rule for estimating their relative importance. He who makes it his moral ideal to Follow Nature, to Strive for Perfection, or to Realize his Capacities, must determine in detail what conduct, self-regarding and other-regarding, the acceptance of such aims entails. Only the unreflective can regard the utilitarian as having a monopoly of the difficulties which face the moralist. The vague general statement that we should strive to render others happy—a duty recognized by men of very different schools— never frees us from the perplexities which arise when it is asked: What others? With what degree of impartiality? When? By what means? But that such questions can be approached by a path more satisfactory than that followed by the utilitarian, there is good reason to maintain. [Footnote: See, below, chapter xxx, Sec Sec 140-142.]

112. SUMMARY OF ARGUMENTS FOR UTILITARIANISM.—It is worth while to summarize what may be said for utilitarianism, and what may be said against it. It may be argued in its favor:

(1) That it appears to set as the aim of human endeavor, an intelligible end, and a fairly definite one. Everyone has some notion of what happiness means, and is not without ideas touching the way to seek his own happiness, or to contribute to that of others.

(2) The end is one actually desired by men at all stages of intellectual and moral development. Men are impelled to seek their own happiness, and there are few who do not feel impelled to take into consideration, to some degree, at least, the happiness of some others.

(3) The general happiness is not merely desired by some men, but it is felt to be desirable; that is, it is an end not out of harmony with the moral judgments of mankind. It makes its appeal to the social nature of man; it seems to furnish a basis for the exercise of benevolence and justice.

(4) The utilitarian’s clear recognition of the general happiness as the ultimate end of human endeavor, and his insistence that institutions, laws and moral maxims must be judged solely by their fitness to serve as means to that end, have made him an energetic apostle of reform, and intolerant of old and passively accepted abuses. His insistence upon the principle of impartiality in the distribution of happiness has made him a champion of the inarticulate and the oppressed. Whatever one may think of his abstract principles, the general character of the specific measures he has advocated must meet with the approval of enlightened moralists of very different schools.

113. ARGUMENTS AGAINST UTILITARIANISM.—Against utilitarianism as an ethical theory various objections have been brought or may be brought.

(1) Objection may be taken to the utilitarian assumption that the only ultimate object of desire is pleasure or happiness.

It was pointed out forcibly by Bishop Butler in the eighteenth century that men desire many things besides pleasure. Man’s desires are an outcome of his nature, and that results in “particular movements towards particular external objects”—honor, power, the harm or good of another. [Footnote: Sermons, Preface, Sec 29; cf. Sermon XI.] To be sure, “no one can act but from a desire, or choice, or preference of his own,” but this is no evidence that what he seeks in acting is always pleasure. Particular passions or appetites are, Butler ingeniously argues, “necessarily presupposed by the very