This type of conscience is not a myth, for it may be acquired in the same way as any other skill is acquired. The objective knowledge which it presupposes can be gained where every natural curiosity of a child or an adult is developed into a frank acquaintance with the object of curiosity; where fear is turned into intrepidity by a bold analysis of its cause and by a frontal attack upon the exciting stimulus; where one learns that ethical problems are always solved by forming serviceable habits and never by the cultivation of permanent anxieties; and where, finally, all the entangling alliances forced upon one by unprofitable acquaintances are boldly, but politely, annihilated. Even though many strongly entrenched traditions and institutions of the world would decay were the type of conscience we here describe to become wide-spread, yet this cannot deter the wise man from making it his life work to add as many new names to the list of those possessing ethical insight as it is within his power to do. Indeed, whenever this list becomes so large as to be generally regarded by autocrats as dangerous, we shall have come to that place in the course of civilization where the first real ethical advance is to be made.
CHAPTER IX
THE MITIGATION OF THE CONFLICT BETWEEN FREEDOM AND OBLIGATION
“There is a phrase ‘liberty of conscience’ which well expresses the modern conception of moral obligation. It recognizes that duty in the last analysis is imposed upon the individual neither by society nor even by God, but by himself; that there is no authority in moral matters more ultimate than a man’s own rational conviction of what is best.”
R. B. Perry, “The Moral Economy,” p. 34.
“One could scarcely construct a more erroneous view than that every human being is endowed at birth with the same ‘lump sum’ of freedom, which remains an inalienable possession throughout life. Our freedom is not complete, it is in the making.... The process by which freedom is won is the process of enlightenment. It is the truth that sets men free, the clear perception of moral relations and moral laws, the understanding of human nature and its true needs.”
W. G. Everett, “Moral Values,” pp. 358-9.
One of the most revolutionary changes which the scientific study of psychology has wrought consists in the demolition of all the barriers which formerly divided the body from the mind. The intellect, once securely enthroned as the highest faculty in the mental hierarchy; the reason, erstwhile religiously devoted to the contemplation of pure truth; and the will, which formerly completed this trio of sublime, unitary faculties, have, in the unbiased and careful scrutiny of laboratory science, been shown to be not only highly complicated processes, but products of experience as well; and not only products of experience, but functions of brain and gland. Furthermore, they have been revealed to be not solely functions of a biological mechanism controlled by external stimuli, but also in a larger sense they are now regarded as means by which the body of a man adjusts itself to and gains control of its physical and social environments. No longer do we ask the old question: “Why has the mind a body?” but rather, “Why does the body have a mind?” And the answer is: The body has a mind to enable the body to experiment with its environment so that when it gets what it seems to want, it can know that it has really wanted what it has gotten.
Some results of this highly reconstructive iconoclasm upon ethical thought have already been depicted in the preceding chapters. Here we are soon to see what effect such a doctrine has upon the last two ethical concepts we shall analyze, namely, duty and freedom.
As may have already been divined, a mechanistic ethics on its constructive side does not maintain a pension list for the outworn conceptions of an earlier day. Consequently, in this place we shall not ask what used to be thought of the “Freedom of the Will,” nor shall we quote Wordsworth’s “Ode to Duty” as a prologue to our theme. For while only a hundred years ago no ethical teacher could have safely omitted giving great emphasis to the theological setting of these two concepts, today such a treatment would not arouse the slightest “problematic thrill.” What used to be called “the Will” is now an obsolete expression;—indeed, ever since Spinoza wrote, it has been regarded as a myth. In its stead, we speak of the individual or particular volitions of men, and we discuss their value in reducing the gap between our liquid matter and its good. Likewise, what was once called the lump-sum of our Duty has now become separated and analyzed into claims, interests, other-regarding sentiments, and the like, each one of which has a history and a real meaning for our flesh-and-blood personality.
All such changes, while perhaps highly disconcerting to those persons who feel that they cannot get along without their “guiding fictions,” are really signs of a salutary advance along ethical lines. Once it is realized that what is popularly termed “will-power” is after all only skill-power, and that “moral obligation” should be translated into pragmatic urgency, it will be plain that only clearly-prevised action-tendencies can properly be called either right or virtuous. It may be true that many a successful action has been performed in the name of a fetichistic belief, but who will doubt that an even more profitable action could have been motivated with less waste of the body’s energies, had there been correct insight and a frank facing of the facts. As long as people are afraid of life, so long are they bound to allege some false cause of their actions. Conversely, as soon as they realize that they are what they do, and whenever they learn that their ethical books cannot be balanced by drawing on a phantom bank account, they begin to pile up ethical assets, and to reduce their ethical liabilities.