3. Rousseau develops his idea of a General Will by the contrast which he draws between the General Will and the Will of All. [1] The General Will aims at a common interest; and it is this community of interest, and not the number of votes in which it may find expression, which in truth “generalises the will.” [2] The Will of All aims at private interest as such (“l’intérêt privé”) and is only a sum of particular wills. Only, Rousseau fancies, if you let the particular wills fight it out freely, their differences are likely to cancel each other, and the General Will to make itself felt, like any pervading factor through a chaos of indefinite variations.

[1] Contrat Social, II. iii.

[2] Ib. II. iv.; cf. above.

The important point in the idea of the Will of All” lies in its being “a sum” of “particulars,” as opposed to something common or general in its nature. Thus, in the limiting case, you may have a unanimous vote in favour of a certain course of action, and yet the voters may severally have been determined by aims and considerations which {112} Rousseau would not admit to be capable of entering at all into a determination of the General Will. For a private affair as such is incapable in Rousseau’s view of being made the subject of law, that is of an act of the General Will. Such an act must be general, not only in the number of votes (which, as we have seen, is the less important factor), but in the nature of its subject-matter, which must be, as we should say, a question of genuine public interest. [1] Now, when men’s minds leave out of sight the public or truly general aspect of a question, and are determined, each of them severally, by the expected consequences to himself as a private individual; then, though all may practically agree in the decision which is arrived at, yet such a decision is founded on no view of truly public interest, but is what Rousseau calls “a sum of particular wills.” The distinction between such a sum of wills, and a will that aims at a truly common interest or good, rests upon that fundamental contrast between a mere aggregate and an organic unity, which is embodied in the opposing views of society which we have been discussing. Pushed to extremes, it might raise a difficulty for those who are not familiar with the logical distinction between a Judgment of Allness and a true Universal Judgment. [2] What harm can there be, it may be asked, in my voting according to the effect a measure will have upon my affairs, if everyone else is allowed to vote according to the effect it will have upon his affairs, especially as in the extreme case suggested, the result is that we are all agreed? What can be more for the general {113} interest than a decision in which every particular interest is satisfied? On the mere basis of comparative generality, as estimated by number, there is plainly no answer to this objection. We meet here with another instance of the difficulties which arise from working with the notion of society as “self and others,” and of the good as an altruistic aim. For in the case supposed, the others are all satisfied as much as myself; and so I should give weight to no higher aim by considering their interest than by considering my own, unless I considered it on different grounds from those which I admitted in judging of my own advantage. But any different, higher, or deeper grounds might just as well present themselves to me with reference to my own advantage as with reference to theirs; and would differ from motives of private interest, not by bringing about a more unanimous adhesion, but by belonging to a deeper appreciation of the common good, and therefore producing a less superficial unity of resolve. The real difference between Allness and true Universality is that a “universal” characteristic goes more deeply into the nature of that which it characterises than does a mark or attribute which, like the owner’s name in the books of a library, simply happens to be attached ab extra to all the objects in question. So here, the supposed accordant decisions of all the voters, as guided each by his strictly private interest, are not really or completely accordant. They happen to come together in one point which has to be settled at the moment; but beyond that they express no oneness of life or principle; still less can they give voice to any demand of the greater or rational {114} self in which the real common good resides. This is what Rousseau means by saying that it is the community of the interest or the nature of the object, and not the number of voices, which distinguishes the General Will from the Will of All. It follows, therefore, that the private interest as such, which in the case supposed determines the individual voter, is not ultimately his true interest; and it may be said, “But if each followed his own true interest the Will of All would be right.” But a true interest, as opposed to an apparent interest, necessarily has just the characters which the true Universal has as against the collection of particulars, or the General Will against the Will of All. So that to say, “If everyone pursued his own true private interest the Will of All would be right,” is merely to say, “If everyone pursued his true private interest he would pursue the common interest”; or, “The Will of All, if directed to the common good, would be one with the General Will.” The reason why it is necessary to insist upon the distinction between true and apparent interest, universal and aggregate of particulars, General Will and Will of All, is just that a true interest generally requires some degree of energy or effort, perhaps of self-sacrifice; while the purely private or apparent interest, the interest of each of us in his routine frame of mind, is that by which many are always determined, and a whole community is only too likely to be guided. That is why it is worth while to distinguish the Will of All from the General Will. Let us suppose that Themistocles had been beaten in the Athenian assembly when he proposed that, instead of dividing the revenue {115} from the silver mines among all the citizens, they should devote this revenue annually to building a fleet—the fleet which fought at Salamis. It is easy to see that in such a case a relatively ideal end, demanding a certain self-denial, might appear less attractive to all the individuals—each keeping before himself his own separate share of profit—than the accustomed distribution of money. And if such a view had gained the day, history would never have told, and no free Europe would have existed to understand, by what decision the true general will and common interest of Athens might have transcended the aggregate private interests of all her citizens. No doubt, it may be added, a true universal end is usually more powerful than a limited interest even in the mere area of its operation; and we may ultimately find, in the benefits conferred by Athens on the world, a justification of her courage and self-denial, even by the rough and unreliable standard of the number of individuals beneficially affected.

[1] Contrat Social, II. iv.

[2] Cf. p. 110 above.

If such a theory as that just stated were to be literally pressed, it would lead to the conclusion that a law which was not really for the general interest was not binding on the subjects of a state. For, by the definition, such a law could not be a true act of sovereignty. No political theorist, however visionary, could accept such a conclusion as this, and Rousseau, seeing that the decision of the recognised sovereign must be final, attempts to show how and when it comes nearest to a true General Will.

The decisive point of his doctrine on this subject is his hostility to representative government, [1] {116} and his consequent demand of a primary assembly and a small community as the only guarantees for the genuine expression of a will for the common good. “The English people,” according to his well-known saying, “is only free during a general election.” Further, it is a sign that the Will of All is, on the whole, coinciding with the General Will, when unanimity prevails in the assembly. But long discussions and the organisation of minor “interests” and associations within the state, in short, all the phenomena of mature political life, are signs and conditions of failure to express the General Will, which is most likely to make itself felt when particular wills neutralise one another in the way explained above. [2]

[1] Bk. III. xv.; cf. IV. ii.

[2] P. 111