A Review of the Systems of Ethics Founded on the Theory of Evolution

by Cora May Williams

Against the hedonistic doctrine, it has been urged by Green that pleasure as such is not the end of action, for even where the single pleasure is desired there is always the thought of a permanent self whose good is supposed to lie in the direction of this pleasure; while a sum of pleasures cannot, as such, be an object of desire, since pleasures, as separate and transitory in contradistinction from the permanent self, cannot be added together in fact, but only in thought; and with regard to a greatest sum of pleasures the difficulty is still greater, since pleasures admit of indefinite increase, and their sum can never be the greatest possible. In so far as desire is supposed to be for pleasures and nothing else, the argument that a sum of pleasures cannot be desired must be admitted. The transiency of the pleasures has, however, nothing to do with the question; the reason why a sum of pleasures cannot form a single pleasure is that they are pleasures with a higher idea—that of a series involving a plan. This does not prove that a sum of pleasures might not be the criterion of conduct. It must be admitted that "sum" is an unfortunate word, since it seems to imply that the pleasures must be combined in one total result; but such an interpretation of the word is not necessary. A series of pleasures is properly nothing more than an aggregate or combination of pleasures, partly successive, partly coëxistent. Nor does the greatest possible happiness mean a happiness than which no greater is possible, but the greatest possible under the given conditions. The polemic is directed against the individualistic psychology, which regards mental states as a mere succession of events. So far the arguments enforce a great principle; a mere succession of feelings or sensations could never yield a conception of a sum apprehended as a sum. But this is irrelevant. For such an idea we require much more than sensation: we require memory, perception, the idea of a self. But this is only saying that morality requires more than mere sensation, and the argument assumes the standpoint it is fighting, treating mental states as mere events. It, moreover, introduces the idea of a permanent self as something superior to mere sensations, whereas perhaps this self is elaborated from sensational elements. Furthermore, if the proposition means that a mind which had only sensations could not have a sum of sensations, this may be denied. A sum is possible from three positions—that of the conception of a spectator, that of a reflecting consciousness, and that of a feeling consciousness which feels its states continuously, though it may not feel them as continuous, for such a feeling would argue comparison and reflection. The polemic, therefore, while in so far right as it is directed against individualistic psychology, seems to assign wrong reasons for a rejection of hedonism; Utilitarians, while speaking of pleasures in the language of psychology, treat them really as something more than mere events—treat them as we really combine them by processes much higher than sensation. A refutation of hedonism must consist in showing that pleasures really differ in kind, and cannot, therefore, be compared in intensity. "Pleasure" is often used as equivalent to a pleasant sensation; such pleasures differ in kind, as in the case of gratified hunger, ambition, and the like, and cannot be actually added, either in thought or in enjoyment, because incommensurable. "Pleasure" is often used, also, to refer, not to the sensation itself, but to its pleasantness, and here the same thing is true; if we distinguish the quality and the tone of feeling, as usual in psychology, the classification of tones as pleasurable and painful is insufficient. "The tones of colors and sounds, for instance, are more naturally represented by the mood of mind they suggest: red has a warm tone, black a sad, gray a sober, the organ a solemn tone."[82] The tone of some feelings is too indefinite for description,—a vague comfort or discomfort,—while the tone may rise to a condition to be described only by "bliss" or "rapture." Pleasure and pain depend, moreover, not only on the quality and quantity of the feeling, but on the whole condition of the mind, pleasure indicating agreement with the mind, pain non-agreement. Every pleasure being a function of the sensation in which it is an element, the supposed sum of pleasures must be made up of pleasures every one of which is qualified as that which is produced by a certain activity. "The sum of pleasures, therefore, re-introduces the distinctions and contents of the moral order, and, though an expression of the criterion of conduct, is therefore, like perfection, not an independent criterion." The element of quality in pleasure may be verified more easily as what may be called preferability. The term preferability does not mean that there is an inherent moral value in every pleasure, in virtue of which pleasures may be distinguished as higher or lower—obviously an erroneous view, for higher and lower is an antithesis established by morality itself; the value depends on the kind of pleasure, and the preferability is that in the good man's mind.

It might be objected that even though pleasures differ in kind, a comparison and summation of them might be possible, just as comparison and summation of weights is possible, although weight depends not on bulk alone but also on specific gravity. It cannot be denied that some numerical expression for qualities of pleasure may yet be found, by which they may be compared. But it is to be noted that, the higher we go in the scale of existence, the more distinct becomes the growth of a principle of selection or distribution which the members of a combination must follow in order to produce a given quantitative result. In chemistry we may obtain the atomic equivalent of sulphuric acid (98) in many ways, but we can obtain the acid itself only by specific combinations in specific proportions. In determining what food to give an animal, we must consider not bulk alone but the nutritiousness of various sorts. We might express the nutritiousness of various foods by numbers, but the numerical equivalent would tell us nothing, unless we knew the kinds of food to be combined. And in the same way we might express the sum of pleasures as end numerically, but until we know the kinds of activities and so of pleasures to be combined to this sum, the formula is useless to inform us as to the end or method of attaining it. The popular conception of happiness avoids all the difficulties and perplexities caused by setting up pleasure as the end, because in that conception pleasures and pains are never considered apart from conduct and character. Thus, though the end involves pleasure, the criterion is good conduct. The good conduct necessarily involves pleasure, for conduct which only outwardly conforms to the moral rule, and in which the agent does not take pleasure, is not really good.

The pleasure-formula thus represented as the standard of conduct is to be distinguished, as actual ethical pleasure in the act, from the pleasures attendant on the act as results, and which may be termed pathological in a Kantian sense. The ethical pleasure need not be unmixed, for the act which satisfies one part of a man's nature does not necessarily satisfy all the other parts. But the ethical pleasure must be present as the total reaction of character considered apart from the incidentals of result.

Pleasures and pains may be divided into two classes, active and passive; active pleasures being those attendant on an act, as gratification of an impulse, passive pleasures those which come to us as enjoyments, not as the gratification of the impulse producing an act, though perhaps resulting from our act. Active pains are those of want, passive those of suffering. The pleasures accompanying an act as pleasures of attainment are always pleasures of gratification, but not of gratification merely, for they gratify a sentiment directed towards an object previously present to the mind in idea; and it is because the volition realizes the idea that the pleasures are called pleasures of attainment, and in this fact lies also their ethical value. The ethical pleasure in the action itself is not to be confused with the mere pleasure in the explicit consciousness of right-doing, which argues special reflectiveness. The ethical pleasure meant is identical with the feeling of approbation, not as a reflection on the act as idea, but as present in the act itself. But the ethical pleasures are not independent of the incidental pleasures, but depend upon them, the latter themselves being considered in determining what acts are to be performed.

The pleasure-formula of the end represents the end in terms of all the ethical pleasures secured by good action; and now we can see how morality can be expressed in terms of all the pleasures and pains involved in action, the purely ethical pleasures being reckoned among the rest. Every pleasure is an inducement to persistence, every pain an inducement to change; hence, since the society of good persons, or the kingdom of powers within a man's own mind acquiesce in the moral order as the equilibrium in which all their claims are gratified as far as may be, it follows that the order of good conduct represents the maximum of happiness. The end thus involves the greatest happiness of the greatest number.

If pleasure is but a part of the standard of morality, is it, then, the object of conduct? If the idea before the mind to be realized in action is called the object of the action, then in the same sense the pleasure connected with the idea, which must be pleasant, is the object of conduct. The difficulty in agreeing that the pleasure of the idea is part of the object of desire arises from two causes: (1) confusion of the object of desire with the character or criterion of the object; (2) a misunderstanding of how the ideal object is related to the result. As to the latter cause, it may be said that the idea is only in this sense an idea of the result, that the result is the idea as it is realized; the elements of the idea are derived from the past, and the desire is not for the prospective pleasure of the end. As to the first cause, though it is false that the prospective pleasure must necessarily be part of the idea, the opposite conclusion is not necessarily legitimate that desire is not for pleasure at all. It is true that, in order to distinguish one object from another, we need to know what kind of an object it is; but to conclude that, therefore, the desire is not for pleasure, is to confuse the actual idea before the mind in desire with its quality. That we do not make pleasure an object in the sense that the pleasantness of the object itself is what we have before us in desire, is obvious. Such a desire would argue a reflectiveness which has been shown not to be necessarily characteristic of action. Nor is it the pleasure of an act which is the cause of the desire, even if we suppose this not in the sense that reflection apprehends it as cause. To suppose this is to confuse the cause with its sign. The pleasure is a function of the quality of the object. The element of reflectiveness may enter into a consideration of the object, and the prospective pleasure thus become an element of the object of desire. But it is only a part; the pleasure alone cannot be the object of desire. The pleasure which is thus a part of the object is not a future pleasure, but that which is actually present in our minds, belonging to the ideal object as part of it—the represented pleasure of attainment. To call the pleasure desired the prospective pleasure is to confound the reflection of the spectator with the actual fact in the mind of the agent to an act. The pleasure is, moreover, not pleasure in general, but the pleasure of the agent; but this is not stating that the act is necessarily selfish.

Since every object of desire and will includes pleasure, the so-called "paradox of hedonism"—that pleasure is lost by seeking after it—cannot be explained by holding that pleasure is not itself the object of desire, and that consequently pleasure is never, in enjoyment, what it is in idea. This last is true, for no idea is in reality what it is as idea. But the explanation lies rather in pointing out how foolish it is to seek for what is a sign or effect rather than for its cause.

In the good man, the pleasure of attainment is the ethical sense of approbation, and this is also goodness. It may, however, be asserted that it is not this ethical pleasure, this goodness as such, that is desired by the good man; again, it is only in exceptional cases of reflectiveness that goodness or the right action as such is distinctively desired; and herein lies Kant's mistake in asserting that a moral act must be done from a sense of duty.

Active pains, as wants, are what prompt to action, and are, so, the conditions of conduct. Though in themselves evil, as pain, they cannot be considered by themselves apart from the action to which they lead. As for passive pains, in so far as they are the result of evil action on the part of others, they ought not to have occurred, and we try to prevent their repetition by punishment. Those sufferings incidental to right conduct are to be borne, in so far as they are inevitable, as a necessary evil in that which, considered as a whole, is good. As soon as they cease to be inevitable, they are to be removed. We do not imagine, however, that pain may ever be wholly removed. But the statement that pain is inevitable to right conduct is not to be interpreted as an assertion that it is for the sake of goodness, as a discipline,—a metaphysical conception depending on the idea of a divine purpose.

Morality is thus a kind of optimism, not ignoring the reality of pains in right conduct, but treating them as part of the given conditions which it has to turn to the best account, by the creation of a conduct and character involving ethical pleasures. Pessimistic theories do not ignore this optimism of morality; but in such theories the fact of pain is emphasized and dwelt upon, and morality is regarded only as a means of lessening pain, or, as in the case of Von Hartmann, finally getting rid of it altogether by a universal suicide. It is impossible to determine whether existence represents an excess of pain or of pleasure, since the answer to the problem is a matter of individual temperament; and, moreover, pleasures and pains cannot be (as yet) merely quantitatively compared. Another error of pessimism consists in comparing pleasures and pains in detail and supposing the result to hold good in the general sum; but even in cases where pleasures are greatly outweighed by pains, the pains may sink in value considered in connection with the rest of life. The desirability of non-existence could be maintained only as a race should be developed desiring it; but the whole course of history is in the opposite direction.