Nussbaum (Compassion and Pity)Aristoteles - RV

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Ethical Theory and Moral Practice 7: 487511, 2004.

DOI: 10.1007/s10677-005-3714-5 C Springer 2005

M. WEBER

COMPASSION AND PITY: AN EVALUATION OF NUSSBAUMS

ANALYSIS AND DEFENSE

Accepted: 23 September 2004

ABSTRACT. In this paper I argue that Martha Nussbaums Aristotelian analysis of com-

passion and pity is faulty, largely because she fails to distinguish between (a) an emotionsbasic constitutive conditions and the associated constitutive or intrinsic norms, (b) ex-

trinsic normative conditions, for instance, instrumental and moral considerations, and

(c) the causal conditions under which emotion is most likely to be experienced. I also argue

that her defense of compassion and pity as morally valuable emotions is inadequate be-

cause she treats a wide variety of objections as all stemming from a common commitment

to a Stoic conception of the good. I argue that these objections can be construed as neutral

between conceptions of the good. I conclude by arguing that construed in this way there are

nonetheless plausible replies to these objections.

KEY WORDS: compassion, Martha Nussbaum, morality and motivation, Nietzsche, pity

In a series of books and articles, Martha Nussbaum has sought to ana-

lyze and defend a cluster of emotions that includes compassion, pity, and

sympathy (see Nussbaum, 1986, 1994a, 1994b, 1996, 2001). This work

fits within a larger movement to rehabilitate the emotions both in ethics

and elsewhere, for instance in cognitive science.1 Although I am in sym-

pathy with this larger movement, and find much to admire in Nussbaums

work, I believe that her analysis suffers insofar as she does not always

clearly distinguish between (a) an emotions basic constitutive conditions

and the associated constitutive or intrinsic norms, (b) extrinsic norma-

tive conditions, for instance, instrumental and moral considerations, and

(c) the causal conditions under which emotion is most likely to be expe-

rienced. Her defense too is problematic, primarily because it too closely

ties the critiques of compassion and pity to the doctrine attributed to theStoics according to which external goods, including not just material goods

but also power, friendship, and health, are of little or no importance be-

cause ones own virtue is entirely sufficient for a flourishing human life

(Nussbaum, 1994a, p. 144). I believe that there are important challenges to

1In ethics, the emotions, in particular sympathy and compassion, have been defended

as moral motives and as otherwise valuable. See Stocker (1996) and Blum (1994, 1980). In

cognitive science, see Damasio (1994).


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488 M. WEBER

compassion and pity that do not depend on accepting the Stoic conceptionof the good, indeed that the criticisms Nussbaum draws from Plato and

especially Nietzsche are misconstrued insofar as she renders them Stoic.

In this paper, I will develop and assess these challenges that Nussbaum

misses or misconstrues in virtue of her attempt to see the entire anti-pity

tradition as essentially Stoic.

I

Following the general lines of Aristotles analysis of compassion

(or pity2) in theRhetoric, Nussbaum starts by describing compassion as a

painful emotion directed at anothers misfortune or suffering that involvesthree beliefs: (a) that the suffering is serious rather than trivial; (b) that the

suffering is not caused primarily by the persons own culpable actions; and,

(c) that one is subject to a similar misfortune (Nussbaum, 1994a, p. 141,

1996, p. 31, 2001, p. 306).

Various objections can be leveled against this analysis (whether it is true

to Aristotle or not). First, as Nussbaum herself sometimes acknowledges,

it is simply too strong to claim that compassion must involvebelievingthat

the suffering is serious, believing that the suffering is not the persons fault,

andbelievingthat one is subject to similar misfortune.3 Indeed, no beliefs

are required at all. This is not to dispute the cognitivist view of compas-

sion and of emotions generally, according to which emotions essentially

involve a cognitive component.4 Rather, it is to deny that the cognitive fea-ture must be a belief. Consider fear, as an example. Must I believe that the

spider or snake is dangerous in order to be in a state of fear? It seems not, as

I might know (and therefore believe) that the spider or snake is not danger-

ous but somehow nonetheless see it as dangerous. Its way of creeping,

or slithering, appears menacing, even though I know it is not dangerous.

2Nussbaum (1996, p. 29) thinks pity and compassion are essentially the same emotion,

with only subtle differences. She allows, then, that they may be used interchangeably,

though she prefers to use pity when talking the historical debate and compassion when

discussing contemporary issues because, sheclaims, since the Victorian era pity has taken

on connotations of condescension and superiority. I will use the terms interchangeably,

unless there is a specific reason to draw a distinction. See also Nussbaum (2001), p. 301.3It is most clearly acknowledged in Nussbaum (2001).4Although cognitivism has become the dominant view, there are dissenters, e.g, Deigh

(1994), andDArmsand Jacobson (2003). DArmsand Jacobson arerecentconverts, having

previously endorsed cognitivism (see DArms and Jacobson, 2000). They argue that what

cognitivists have typically taken to be the constitutive thoughts of a given emotion are

a special type of normative standard for emotions (p. 132). For example, cognitivists

typically hold that fear involves the thought that danger is present. DArms and Jacobson

deny this, butadmitthat dangerbeing present is a norm forfear, such that fear is unwarranted

if danger is not present. I cannot address their view here due to limitations of space.


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COMPASSION AND PITY 489

Jealousy provides another helpful example: I can be jealous even if I firmlybelieve that my partner will always be true, as it is possible, despite this

belief, to see her conversing with the tall, dark stranger as something more

than just talking.5 Robert Roberts gloss on this is to say that emotions

involve construals rather than beliefs.6 It seems that this applies just as

much to compassion as it does to fear and jealousy.

Appropriate modification of the Aristotelian formulation is of course

easy enough: Compassion is a painful emotion directed at anothers mis-

fortune or suffering and involves three construals that correspond to the

three beliefs Nussbaum identifies. Although Nussbaum does not speak in

terms of construals, when she is alive to these concerns she does make

the same point. She says, for instance, that the cognitive components ofemotions such as compassion can be a belieforan appraisal, where ap-

praisals fall well short of belief (see e.g., Nussbaum, 2001, p. 306). Indeed,

in part to accommodate emotions in animals and human infants, Nussbaum

allows that such appraisals can be pre- or non-linguistic.7 She says, then,

that compassion does not require a belief that another person has suffered

misfortune, but rather simply requires that a painful emotion is occasioned

by anawarenessof another persons misfortune (Nussbaum, 2001, p. 306,

my emphasis).

Unfortunately, there are problems with the account even with this refor-

mulation. It seems to me, first, that compassion does not require a construal

or any kind of awareness that the persons suffering is not his fault. Con-

sider Fred, who falls asleep at the wheel of his car, crashes, and ends upconfined to a wheelchair. Surely his injury is to some degree, if not en-

tirely, his fault. It seems, nonetheless, that even in the face of this Fred

ought to have our compassion, which requires that having compassion is

5It might be said that I could only see it as flirting ifI havesomedoubt about my partners

faithfulness. But this seems false to me. Imagine that in the past my partners have been flirts

who have strayed. With this history, my current partners innocent behavior may remind me

(consciouslyor unconsciously) of my past and trigger an emotional response, even if I know

that my current partners behavior is entirely innocent. Not all flirting, it should be said, is

on the way to unfaithfulness: sometimes it is just flirting, with no thought or intention

of it going any further than that. Whether this should occasion jealousy is another matter.

6Roberts (1988). Some, e.g., Solomon (1976), characterize emotions in terms of judg-

ments rather than beliefs. However, the same critique applies: one need not judge that the

spider is dangerous; one only need construe it as dangerous.7Nussbaum, 2001, pp. 5, 7, 23, 28, 37, 89138. Although this is clearly a move in the

right direction, there is a concern that Nussbaums account of what is cognitive is so broad

that it is hard to know what could count as non-cognitive. For instance, she says that what

she means by something cognitive is nothing more than concerned with receiving and

processing information (Nussbaum, 2001, p. 23). A simple organism that responds to

heat, it would then seem, has cognitions, as does a thermostat, unless a lot is built in to

processing information. Pursuing this issue further, however, would take us too far afield.


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490 M. WEBER

compatible with believing that a persons misfortune is his own doing.8

The simplest explanation for the judgment that Fred nonetheless deserves

our sympathy is that while the accident was his fault, his mistake is one any

one of us could easily have made. We have all probably very nearly fallen

asleep at the wheel and crashed, and this seems to bear on how we ought

to respond.9 It seems, then, that it is not enough (for the denial of compas-

sion) that the person is at fault for his suffering; it requires that his mistake

is a particularly egregious or stupid one, one that most people would not

make.10 Compassion, then, does not require a construal according to which

a person is not at fault for his misfortune, or any awareness to that effect.

Some might deny that Fred ought to have our compassion. But the crucial

point that compassion does not require a construal according to whichthe person is not at fault for his misfortune does not depend on accept-

ing the claim that Fred ought to have our compassion, because the debate

itself presupposes that compassion does not require such a construal. If

such a construal were required, then it would be impossible to have com-

passion for Fred knowing that the accident is his fault, in which case any

debate over whether he should or should not have our compassion would be

incoherent.11 To put it another way, there is no point in insisting that Fred

or others like him should not have our compassion unless it is possible to

experience such putatively unwarranted compassion, which requires that

compassion can be experienced even if the persons misfortune is construed

as his own fault.12

The case I am making is bolstered if we contrast Fred with Ed, who is

similarly injured because he crashed his car, but crashed because he was

8Although, as the previous discussion suggests, one can believe that while construing

things otherwise, I am here assuming that the person who believes that another person has

brought on his own misfortune is also construing things that way.9Husak (1996) argues similarly that in a variety of circumstances a claim that everyone

does that is exculpatory, both legally and morally.10I do not pretend to have provided here a clear and exact criterion that distinguishes

cases in which compassion is appropriate and cases in which it is not. It is enough, for my

purposes, to have shown that in at least some cases compassion is appropriate despite the

fact that the persons suffering is to some degree, or even entirely, his fault.

11I suppose it could be argued that any such debate is incoherent, and people just do

not realize this because they are insensitive to the fact that compassion requires a construal

according to which the person is not significantly at fault for his misfortune. This strikes

me as implausible, however, and suspect insofar as it seems to exclude a substantive debate

by definitional fiat.12There can be unwarranted compassion even if it is true that compassion requires a

construal according to which the persons misfortune is not his own fault, namely in the

case where a person feels compassion for a person thinking that his misfortune is not his

fault, when in fact it is. But this is different, and does not by itself show that there cannot

be other kinds of unwarranted compassion.


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under the influence of alcohol. I think we are prone to say that Ed doesnot deserve compassion, or if he does he is less deserving and deserving

of less. Why? Because drunk driving, unlike driving when too sleepy, is

an egregious or particularly stupid mistake, one that most of us have not

made and would not make, though of course drunk driving is regrettably

common.13 Of course we would not think less badly of drunk driving if it

were even more common. Frequency alone, then, cannot be the issue. But

this should not lead us to think that there is no rational basis for distinguish-

ing drunk drivers from sleepy drivers, and thus there is no basis for treating

Fred and Ed differently.14 ThoughI will not offer a full-scale defense here, it

seems to me that there are significant differences between drunk and sleepy

drivers. The most important is simply that drunk drivers are more likelyto get into accidents than sleepy drivers, mainly, I think, because drunks

are often oblivious to their incapacity, or at least very prone to misjudge

its degree, where sleepy drivers are not, or are less so.15 This of course is

compatible with it being the case that many accidents are caused by drivers

falling asleep at the wheel. But this does not compromise the essential

point, which is just that drunk drivers are more likely to cause accidents.16

There is another apparent difference between drunk and sleepy drivers,

though I am skeptical of its ethical significance. The drunk seems more ac-

tive in the genesis of his incapacitation: he got himself drunk, by drinking

too much.17 Becoming sleepy seems different: we do not have to do any-

thing; it simply comes upon us. Of course we become sleepy if we fail to get

sufficient rest. But herein lies an apparent difference: the drunk is incapac-itated because he actively drinks, while the sleepy driver is incapacitated

13The same disclaimer applies as before: I do not pretend to have provided here a clear

and exact criterion that distinguishes cases in which compassion is appropriate and cases

in which it is not.14The thought I wish to deny is that there is an irrational social bias that considers drunk

driving worse than other things that are equally potentially devastating. Some think that

there is such an unjustified bias against smoking: it is shunned in ways that other equally

unhealthy vices are not.15Husak (1994) argues that driving with an elevated blood alcohol level is not as dan-

gerous as is commonly thought, especially when compared to other impairments such as

sleepiness, or even driving at night. However, this point is compatible with the claim thatintoxicated drivers, where intoxication is not a matter of blood alcohol level but a matter

of impairment, are more likely to cause accidents than sleepy drivers. Husaks attack is

directed at laws that are based on blood alcohol levels; it is not an attack on the claim that

driving while intoxicated is no more dangerous than while sleepy or otherwise impaired.16Of course this does not get sleepy drivers off the hook. They may be less blameworthy

and correspondingly more deserving of our compassion than drunk drivers. But this

does not mean they are by any means free from blame and deserve only compassion. In

addition, they may also deserve blame or chastisement, or even criminal prosecution.17I am assuming that the drunk is not forced to drink against his will.


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492 M. WEBER

because he fails to get sufficient rest. It is the sleepy drivers notdoingsomething his omission which leads to his incapacitation. However,

like many, I am skeptical of the ethical significance of the act/omission

distinction.18 Delving further into the matter, of course, would take us too

far afield.

What if Fred, instead of only injuring himself in the accident, also in-

jured or killed others? I think in this case too we are less inclined to feel

compassion or inclined to feel less compassion. This attitude apparently

depends on accepting a different controversial ethical view, namely that

there can be moral luck which allows that it makes a moral difference

that in the first instance when Fred injures only himself that he was simply

lucky not to have injured or killed others.19

So too in the drunk drivingcase: if we think that Ed is even less deserving of compassion or deserves

even less compassion if he injured or killed others, we commit ourselves

to allowing for moral luck. Be that as it may, debates over act/omission

and moral luck do not compromise the fundamental point, which is just

that compassion is entirely compatible with thinking that the person who

suffers is in part, perhaps even entirely, at fault for his suffering. If Fred

falls asleep at the wheel and injures no one but himself, he seems deserving

of at least some compassion.

It is crucial to emphasize that saying that sleepy drivers like Fred deserve

compassion is compatible with saying that, insofar as such drivers are at

fault, they are also deserving of blame and reproach. Compassion, blame,

and reproach can, it seems to me, co-exist, and all be apt in the samecircumstance. This does complicate matters quite a bit. There is a difficult

line we have to walk here balancing supportive compassion and critical

blame and reproach. In most cases and certainly in Freds case it has

always seemed to me that the supportive compassion should come first and

the critical blame and reproach later. What a person needs at first when

he suffers an injury or some other loss is compassion, regardless of the

genesis of his suffering and loss. Similarly, the broken-hearted lover who

foolishly loves the unworthy and unfaithful, for example, is still broken

hearted and needs compassion first and foremost. There is plenty of time

18There are two components to this skepticism: (1) It is not clear that there is a fact of

the matter as to whether something is an act or an omission; (2) Even if the distinction can

be drawn, it is unclear that it makes a moral difference whether something is an act or an

omission.19This commonly held view that it is only luck that distinguishes the impaired driver

who injures or kills others from the impaired driver who does not could be challenged by

arguing that, in general, accidents that cause injury or death to others are the product of

more serious driving errors, errors more likely to be made the more impaired one is. Thus,

in the aggregate, it would be right to say that there is likely greater impairment in accidents

in which others are injured or killed.


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later for critical judgment and for learning lessons.20 This general point

about timing, it seems to me, applies especially, though not exclusively, to

children and young people, who are especially prone to certain kinds of

mistakes in the process of growing up.

In sum, I have thus far argued that whatever we may think about the

distinction between acts and omissions, and about moral luck, Freds case

makes clear that compassion is compatible with thinking that a person is

to some degree at fault perhaps completely at fault for his suffering. In

particular, if a persons suffering is the product of a mistake we all could

just have easily made then compassion by no means seems entirely out of

place. This makes room for compassion in the face of a wide variety of

circumstances, including in particular the various mistakes of children andteenagers, even the best of whom are prone to typical mistakes associated

with a specific age.

There are two replies to the argument that I have just given that should

be addressed. One reply is to argue that compassion is not in order in cases

where a person is to some degree at fault for his suffering, though another

similar emotion is, and this explains whatever intuitive force there is to

the example of Fred who falls asleep at the wheel.21 Pity and sympathy,

for instance, are often put forward in this context. Unlike compassion, it

is claimed, pity and sympathy do not involve seeing the sufferer as free

from fault.22 It seems to me, however, that there is no real dispute here.

20Indeed, I am inclined to argue that whatever lesson is supposed to be learned is more

likely to be learned if compassion comes first.21Nussbaum suggests a more direct response to handle the intuition about Freds case.

She suggests that in some cases the severity of the injury or loss is out of proportion to

the culpable persons action, and the person thus deserves compassion for the extra or

nonblameworthy suffering. See Nussbaum, 1994a, p. 142, 1996, p. 33, 2001, pp. 311

312. Thus, in Freds case, his injury in the accident is severe, and out of proportion to

his mistake for which he is to blame. This seems to me a hard argument to make here,

because serious injury and even death are just what frequently happens when you fall

asleep at the wheel. What, then, are the grounds for claiming that the consequences

serious injury and even death are out of proportion? I suppose the answer is that how bad

the mistake is does not depend on the severity or size of its typical outcomes, but instead

by some independent evaluative standard. At a minimum, we are owed some account of

this independent evaluative standard. Perhaps I have provided at least the beginnings of

this: How big a mistake is depends on how frequently it is made a mistake is a smaller

mistake if it is more common. If this is right, then perhaps Nussbaum and I are ultimately

in agreement. There is another option here too, which is to argue that the outcome is out of

proportion because while the mistake is a big one (not one commonly made), it is one for

which the person has a good excuse, e.g., poor parental guidance, or mental instability. See

Nussbaum, 2001, pp. 311312. I will not pursue here the merits of this approach, simply

due to limitations of space.22This is just one of many postulated differences between compassion and pity. See,

e.g., Blum, 1994, p. 178, and Snow, 1991, p. 196.


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494 M. WEBER

At issue is a matter of terminology, because we can just as easily talk ofcompassion that does not concern itself with fault as we can talk about

sympathy and pity as different from compassion insofar as they are not

concerned with fault.23 If there is an issue at all, it is this. It is commonly

held that pity, unlike compassion, involves condescension (in addition to

Nussbaum, 1994a, 1996, and 2001, pp. 301, 383, see Blum, 1994, and

Snow, 1991). If this is right, and if we also insist that Fred deserves pity

instead of compassion, the result is that the appropriate attitude is one that

includes condescension. This strikes me as a mistake, just because fault

can be assigned without condescending. Indeed, this is just what I think

Freds case, and others like it, show: in cases of mistakes we all (might)

make, we can assign fault without thinking too terribly of the person whosuffers as a result of his mistakes without condescending. So if pity

involves condescension, and alternatives such as compassion do not, then

compassion is more suited to Freds case than pity. If on the other hand pity

does not necessarily involve condescension, then, so long as condescension

is not present, it can be appropriate to Freds case. The bottom line is that

whatever the appropriate emotion is, it should not be condescending.

Nussbaum sometimes suggests something a bit different, that what is

called for in cases in which the person is at fault for his own suffering is

not compassion or pity but mercy. Mercy, she says, like pity and unlike

compassion, allows that a person is at fault for his own suffering (see

Nussbaum, 1994a and Nussbaum, 2001, pp. 365368, 397399). But what

is mercy? According to Nussbaum, mercy is defined as the inclinationof the judgment toward leniency in selecting penalties (Nussbaum, 2001,

p. 365). But if mercy is just a matter of leniency in punishment, it seems

that it is not enough. In Freds case, it seems to me, something more heart-

felt is warranted: simply being lenient does not seem to do justice to the

misfortune he as suffered.24 In reply, Nussbaum could claim, as she does,

that the merciful person is not always hard (Nussbaum, 2001, p. 365).

But in cashing out how it is that the merciful person is not hard, she seems to

build compassion into mercy. She explains, for instance, that the merciful

person will examine the persons situation with great sympathy, sensitive

to the fact that the person has suffered a misfortune, and that though it was

his fault, it is hard for all of us to avoid the multitudinous ways in which wemight cause ourown misfortune (Nussbaum, 2001, pp.365366, 397398).

23Which waywe go shouldbe decidedpragmatically, depending, forinstance, on whether

we need a distinction between compassion and pity to mark a different distinction.24Indeed, if mercy is just a matter of leniency in punishment, then it is not an emotion at

all. Rather, it is a kind of attitude or policy. My point, then, is that some sort of emotional

response some emotion of fellow-feeling is warranted above and beyond whatever

leniency in punishment is warranted.


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A different way to respond to my argument that compassion does notrequire that the person who suffers misfortune is seen as free from fault

would be to suggest that insofar as the mistake is one anybody might

have made it is not really the persons fault. Fault and the corresponding

blame should be attributed only to mistakes that stand out that lie

outside the norm. Teenagers, for instance, are not at fault for various forms

of rebellious activity, and for the selfishness and self-absorption so typical

of them. Similarly, sleepy drivers like Fred are not really at fault for the

accident.

But this seems to go a bit too far. Perhaps we should be more forgiving

attribute fault without a lot of blame when the mistakes or errors people

make are common (for their age, in the case of teenagers). However, thisdoes not require denying fault all together. Surely Fred is at fault for falling

asleep at the wheel, regardless of the fact that it is a common mistake that

we have all very nearly made. So too with teenagers and their various forms

of bad behavior: rather than thinking that they are not at fault, we should

be forgiving in the face of assigning fault.

In her more recent work, Nussbaum acknowledges that we can and

perhaps should have compassion for people who are responsible for their

own misfortune, especially, as I have suggested, if a persons mistakes

are typical for his age, e.g., adolescence. A parent, she says, may feel

compassion for the mess an adolescent child has gotten into, and yet think

that it is the childs own fault (Nussbaum, 2001, p. 314). But she insists

that in a case like this there is a higher level at which we do not thinkthe adolescent is at fault. When we have such thoughts, she says, we

are. . .making a two-stage judgment. In one way, it is clearly the childs

own fault; and yet the condition of adolescence, which is not her fault,

brings with it a certain blindness and a liability to certain types of errors

(Nussbaum, 2001, p. 314). This seems to me a step in the right direction.

However, I do not think that it goes far enough, because there are cases

such as Freds case in which we can and perhaps should feel compassion

even when it is not the case that at some higher level the person is not at

fault.25

25There may be a way to squeeze Freds case into Nussbaums framework. Imagine that

Fred is a middle-aged man with older children at college and younger children at home.

As a result, he (and likely his partner too) must work hard both in the office and at home.

No wonder, then, that he is tired and prone to (nearly) fall asleep at the wheel. In this case,

we might say that Fred, much like the imagined teenager, is in a condition in Freds case,

middle-age in America thestructure ofwhichis nothis fault,or at least notentirelyhis fault,

which brings with it a liability to make certain types of errors, in this case making mistakes

because one is very tired. It seems to me, however, that compassion for a person injured due

to falling asleep at the wheel need not be limited to persons like Fred, with all his middle-age

responsibilities. So it seems to me that Nussbaums approach here is likely too narrow.


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496 M. WEBER

What I have argued thus far, then, is that in at least some cases in whicha person is at fault for his own suffering he nonetheless deserves at least

some compassion, and perhaps some mercy as well.26 If this is right, then

we cannot accept Nussbaums claim that compassion requires thinking

that a person is not at fault for his misfortunes, or any awareness to that

effect. We also should be wary of her repeated insistence that insofar as

we believe that a person came to grief through his or her own fault, we will

blame and reproach, rather than pitying (Nussbaum, 2001, p. 311; see also

Nussbaum, 1994a, p. 142, 1996, p. 33). This is just too harsh.27 Does Fred

deserve only blame and reproach, even in the case where he injures only

himself? Is leniency with respect to punishment (mercy) all he deserves if

the accident results in others being injured or killed?There is of course a more generous way of reading Nussbaums claim

that we will only blame and reproach, according to which it is just an

empirical, psychological claim: as a matter of empirical fact, people tend

to blame and reproach, rather than respond with compassion and pity, when

the person is to some significant extent at fault for his suffering.28 This,

however, is not to say that people shouldonly blame and reproach, rather

than showing compassion and pity (also). This distinction, however, is not

sufficiently attended to in Nussbaums treatment of compassion. Too often

she fails to distinguish the normative and the descriptive. Needless to say,

this can be quite misleading, suggesting that the very harsh view that denies

Fred compassion is the right normative view and that this is simply the

product of an analysis of the nature or logic of compassion and pity.The distinction between the normative and the descriptive is also insuf-

ficiently attended to in many of her discussions of the (modified) claim that

compassion involves construing matters in such a way that one is subject

to the same misfortunes as those who suffer.29 It may be true as a mat-

ter of empirical fact that people tend to feel compassion only if they see

themselves as subject to the same misfortune. A failure to see oneself as

26There is one caveat that I mentioned above: if mercy includes compassion, then mercy

is enough.27As I have noted, the harshness is mitigated insofar as it is allowed that mercy is

warranted. However, as I have argued above, mercy alone does not seem sufficient: a degree

of compassion or pity seems warranted as well.28Even this seems false, because especially with those close or dear to us we tend to feel

compassion whether the suffering is the persons fault or not. If the empirical claim is true

at all, it is true when applied to our attitude toward strangers.29In particular,Nussbaum (1994a, 1996). The treatment in Nussbaum (2001) is superior,

in which she retracts the requirement of similar possibilities in favor of a eudaimonistic

requirement according to which compassion, and emotions generally, require that the object

of the emotion makes a differenceto the subject. In this modified view, Nussbaum holds that

similar possibilities is merely an epistemological requirement or guide for compassion.

See especially, pp. 3134, 315321.


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similarly vulnerable oftenexplains a lack of compassion. In the first partof a passage from RousseausEmilethat Nussbaum approvingly cites, this

seems to be the message:

Why are kings without pity for their subjects? Because they count on never being human

beings. Why are the rich so hard toward the poor? It is because they have no fear of

being poor. Why does a noble have such contempt for the peasant? It is because he will

never be a peasant. (Jean-Jacques Rousseau, quoted in Nussbaum, 1996, p. 34. See also

Nussbaum, 2001, pp. 315316)

However, it is another thing entirely to say that people shouldnot feel

compassion unless they correctly see themselves as subject to the same

misfortunes as those who suffer. The king may not feel compassion for hissubjects because he cannot imagine himself being in their circumstances.

Surely, however, it is no excuse for a callous and cruel king to say I am

king, and will never be a subject even if what he says is true! There must

be something wrong with any analysis of the nature or logic of compassion

that makes this a good excuse.

What has gone wrong, it seems to me, is that Nussbaum has failed to

(consistently) distinguish more than just the descriptive and the norma-

tive. She has failed to distinguish between (a) an emotions basic consti-

tutive conditions and the associated constitutive or intrinsic norms; (b)

extrinsic normative conditions, for instance instrumental or moral con-

siderations; and (c) the causal conditions under which emotion is most

likely to be experienced. Consider the first. The standard cognitivist view

is that, in general, emotions cannot be distinguished phenomenologically

in terms of how they feel. They are distinguished, instead, in virtue of

their distinctive cognitive components, the thoughts that a subject must

have if he is to be counted as having that emotion at all. Pride (in oneself),

for example, requires a thought or construal according to which there is

something good about oneself. If one feels some kind of warm glow but no

such thought is present, then one simply is not experiencing pride.30 The

thought that there is something good about oneself, then, is a constitutive

condition for pride. What comes with this is a constitutive or intrinsic

norm: if what one takes to be good about oneself is not really good, or

if it is good but one is mistaken in thinking one in fact has this quality,then ones pride is mistaken unjustified or unwarranted at least with

respect to the quality in question. Constitutive or intrinsic norms, however,

must be distinguished from extrinsic norms stemming from independent

rational and moral considerations. For instance, it might be argued that

it would be wrong for the scientists involved in the Manhattan Project to

30To deal with counterexamples it might have to be allowed that the thought could be

subconscious.


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498 M. WEBER

take pride in their scientific accomplishments after witnessing the bomb-ings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. One need not agree with this judgment

to see the point, which is that the norm being invoked is of a different sort.

There is no claim here that the scientific accomplishments are not impres-

sive scientifically no claim, then, that (scientific) pride is not intrinsically

warranted. The claim is that despite the fact that pride is in this way in-

trinsically warranted, there are overriding moral considerations that render

pride inappropriate all-things-considered. Contrast this case with another.

Some people argue that it is wrong to take pride in ones appearance be-

cause our appearance is not what matters about us rather, it is only what

we are inside. Whether one agrees with this or not, it should be clear that

the point here is different because the suggestion is that what people taketo be good or valuable their pleasing appearance really is not good or

valuable at all. The target here is the constitutive norm that requires that

what one takes pride in is in fact something good or valuable. There is a

clear difference, then, between intrinsic, constitutive norms and extrinsic

rational and moral norms.31

Further, both of these kinds of conditions must be distinguished from

causal conditions, or those conditions under which an emotion is likely to be

experienced. Pride is more likely to be felt, for instance, when compared

to or in the presence of those of similar or lesser merit. Even a gifted

music student is more likely to feel proud of his ability when compared

to his fellow students, rather than, say, to Yo-Yo Ma. The comparison can

make even a gifted student think he has no talent at all. But if he doeshave talent, then pride is intrinsically warranted, whether he experiences

it or not. So causal conditions must be distinguished from constitutive or

intrinsic conditions and the associated intrinsic norms. Extrinsic norms are

similarly distinct.

With respect to compassion, it seems from the earlier discussion that

the only constitutive condition is that one takes another person (or non-

human feeling thing) to be seriously suffering. Perhaps we should only

have compassion in cases in which the suffering is not the persons fault or

the product of some kind of mistake that we all are prone to make. But this

is another matter.32 Thus compassion is intrinsically unwarranted only if

31DArms and Jacobson (2000). An example of an extrinsic rational norm with respect

to pride is the following: It is sometimes suggested that it is instrumentally rational to

feel pride in oneself, even when one has little to be proud of even when the constitutive

norm is not satisfied because having such pride may provide the psychological conditions

necessary for the kind of achievement that intrinsically warrants pride. For example, an

untested athlete is more likely to beat a champion opponent if he is especially confident or

proud, despite being untested.32This allows us to accommodate the thinking of some that we can but should not feel

compassion for those who deserve their punishment, e.g., convicted criminals.


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it is experienced when in fact the other person is not seriously suffering. Itneed not be the case that one takes the suffering not to be the sufferers fault

in order to experience compassion. Indeed, as I emphasized earlier, if this

were the case, then it would be impossible to experience compassion for

someone at fault for his misfortune, which surely is not the case. Nor is it the

conclusion sought by those who think that we should not experience com-

passion for those at fault for their own suffering. Their concern is that we

sometimes experience compassion when we should not, which is just to say

that the concern here is an extrinsic moral consideration pertaining to com-

passion. Thus, even if its true which I have argued it is not that someone

or something deserves compassion only if the suffering is not his or her

fault, or not largely so, this is an extrinsic rather than an intrinsic concern.It seems to me, then, that whether a person is at fault for his misfortune is

at most plausibly a causal condition for compassion: people are, as a matter

of empirical fact, disinclined to experience compassion when the person

suffering is at fault. The same is true with the condition that the subject see

himself as subject to the same misfortune: it cannot be either a constitutive

condition or a rational/moral condition; at most, it is a felicitous eliciting

condition. Insofar as Nussbaum fails to make these distinctions, heranalysis

is flawed, and can be gravely misleading, suggesting that certain normative

claims, e.g., that compassion is warranted only when the sufferer is not at

fault for his suffering, follow from the nature or logic of compassion. It

does not follow. Moreover, it is false.

In fact, I am not at all sure it is even right to say that as a matter ofempirical psychological fact a person must think he can suffer the same

misfortune in order to have compassion, or that he must think the sufferer

not at fault. Surely having such thoughts facilitates compassion. But it is

another thing to say that in their absence people generally do not feel com-

passion. This would entail, for example, that generally speaking a person

unable to have children cannot have compassion for a person who has lost a

child. It would also entail that in general the scrupulously law-abiding par-

ents of a known-to-them guilty criminal will not have compassion for his

plight in prison. But surely compassion in these circumstances is possible,

even quite un-extraordinary.33

Indeed, Nussbaum herself seems to allow for this kind of thing in herearliest discussions of the pedagogical value of tragedy and the modern

33In Nussbaum (2001), such cases are handled either by invoking the eudaimonistic

requirement, or by suggesting that the requirement is that one is similarly subject orsuch

misfortune might befall a loved one. See p. 316. As I have noted, I find the treatment

there more satisfactory. The critical comments here, then, should be seen as directed at

the discussions in Nussbaum (1994a, 1996). These criticisms are largely anticipated in

Nussbaum (2001), and the position is consequentlymodified, with the similar possibilities

requirement replaced by the eudaimonistic requirement.


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500 M. WEBER

novel. She initially suggests that the value of such drama and literature isthat it teaches people especially young people that they are subject to

various misfortunes that they may have not yet experienced:

To the young adolescent who is preparing to take a place in the city . . .tragedy has a

special significance. Such a spectator is learning pity in the process. Tragedies acquaint

young people with the bad things that may happen in human life, long before life itself

does so: they thus enable concern for others who are suffering what the spectator has

not yet suffered. (Nussbaum, 1996, p. 39)

However, she then suggests that the power of such drama and literature

is even greater, because it can teach us to be compassionate even towards

those who suffer what we ourselves could not possibly suffer:

. . .tragedy leads the spectator to cross boundaries that are usually regarded as firm in

social life. Through sympathetic identification, it . . .asks him to identify himself not

only with those whom he in some sense might be . . . but also with many whom he

never in fact can be, though one of his loved ones might such as Trojans and Persians

and Africans, such as wives and daughters and mothers. (Nussbaum, 1996, p. 39, my

emphasis)

So Nussbaum herself allows that one can learn to be compassionate

toward people very different people whose sufferings one is not oneself

subject to.

Of course despite various kinds of social stratification we are in fact

all subject to nearly all the misfortunes that others suffer, because social

structures and our personal good fortune can radically change. Thisis

Rousseaus point in the passage cited, which continues as follows:

Each maybe tomorrow what theone whom he helps is today. Do not, therefore, accustom

your pupil to regard the sufferings of the unfortunate and the labors of the poor from the

height of his glory; and do not teach him to pity them if he considers them alien to him.

Make him understand well that the fate of these unhappy people can be his, that all their

ills are there in the ground beneath his feet, that countless unforeseen and inevitable

events can plunge him into them from one moment to the next. Teach him to count on

neither birth nor health nor riches. Show him all the vicissitudes of fortune. (Rousseau,

quoted in Nussbaum, 1996, p. 34)

Rousseaus message to the imagined callous king is that what he

says that he is king and always will be is not necessarily true,

because kings, dictators and oligarchs are deposed, exiled, guillotined,

and shot in the streets. Thus, whether they think themselves immune

or not, they should have compassion for their subjects (even if being

subject to similar misfortune is a constitutive condition of compassion).

The passage clearly does not suggest that callous kings and other lead-

ers are off the hook if they are not or do not believe that they might


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502 M. WEBER

Partiality, however, is not the only objection to compassion and pity.As Nussbaum notes, the Stoics level a fundamental objection according to

which pity has a false cognitive-evaluative structure, which is just to say,

in terms I have introduced, that the emotions (alleged) constitutive condi-

tions can never be satisfied (Nussbaum, 1994a, p. 146, 1996, p. 41, 2001,

pp. 356357). The Stoics, on Nussbaums view, share the view (which I

have rejected) that compassion requires thinking that someone has suffered

a significant misfortune for which he is not at fault. Thus, taking into ac-

count only constitutive norms, one ought to experience compassion for a

person if and only if he has suffered a significant misfortune for which

he is not at fault. However, Nussbaum explains, on the Stoic view these

conditions can never be met because the Stoics maintain (1) that externalgoods, including not just material goods but also power, friendship, and

health, are of little or no importance because ones own virtue is entirely

sufficient for a flourishing human life, and (2) that ones own virtue is en-

tirely under ones own control, such that were it to be compromised it would

be ones own fault the result of ones own weakness or bad decisions.

Thus pitys evaluative structure or evaluative presentation is neces-

sarily mistaken because a person is always at fault for any misfortune he

suffers.

Once again, the analysis of compassion and pity above provides a quick

response. For I have argued, successfully I hope, that compassion can be

warranted even when a person is to some degree at fault, perhaps entirely

at fault, for his own misfortune. Thus, even if it is allowed that virtue issufficient for a good life and that one is responsible for ones own virtue,

compassion can still be entirely warranted in cases where a person suffers

a misfortune (a falling away from virtue). In particular, if the person suffers

such misfortune due to a culpable mistake that we all are prone to make,

then compassion is nonetheless warranted.

This of course is not Nussbaums reply to the Stoic objection. Instead,

she argues, equally reasonably, that we should simply reject the Stoic con-

ception of the good (Nussbaum, 1994a, p. 143, 1996, pp. 4457, 2001, pp.

370375). External goods, including material goods, friends, good health,

and all the rest are important to the good life, even if we can overestimate

their importance, especially the importance of material goods.37

Thus, sinceexternal goods can be lost, or never had, through no fault of ones own, the

though here too it may be hard to incorporate the well-being of others into our own con-

ception of eudaimonia, that is, for distant others to be as important to us as those more near.

Nussbaum (2001, pp. 388391), also argues that one cannot likely reach the moral point

of view without having previously experienced compassion and in some sense worked to

expand it.37This is a well-known point Aristotle himself makes in theNichomachean Ethics, Book

I, Chapter 9.


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Stoics are wrong to think that the evaluative presentation of compassionand pity is necessarily false.

Nussbaum similarly rejects a variety of other challenges to pity and com-

passion, arguing that they are ultimately permutations on the fundamental

Stoic objection because they stem from mistakenly placing value on exter-

nal goods. So, for instance, Nietzsche famously argues that compassion and

pity are bad for, or demean, the pitied: To offer pity, Nietzsche says, is as

good as to offer contempt.38 This is also a well-known claim made by Ayn

Rand inThe Virtue of Selfishnessand in her novelsAtlas ShruggedandThe

Fountainhead.39 According to Nussbaum, this is ultimately a Stoic objec-

tion because compassion and pity demean the pitied by implying that this

is a person who really needs the things of the world, whereas no virtuousperson has such needs (Nussbaum, 1996, pp. 4142; see also Nussbaum,

2001, pp. 357358). Rand and Nietzsche also think that having pity is bad

for or demeans the pitier. Here too, Nussbaum argues that the objection is

Stoic because in taking pity you are acknowledging to yourself the value

of the things of the world, and are prepared to pity oneself for misfortune

with respect to external goods: Given the judgment of similar possibilities

[that one is subject to the same misfortune], pity also insults the dignity

of the person who gives pity.40 Finally, Nussbaum notes that Nietzsche

thinks that compassion and pity are intimately linked to other emotions that

are nearly universally agreed to be unappealing or objectionable, including

fear, anxiety, grief, anger, envy, and hate (Nussbaum, 1996, pp. 4344; see

also Nussbaum, 2001, pp. 361364). Compassion and pity lead to fear,anxiety and grief, she says, because the person who pities accepts cer-

tain controversial evaluative judgments concerning the place of external

goods in human flourishing. But a person who accepts those judgments

accepts that she has given hostages to fortune. And to give hostages to

fortune is to be set up not only for pity, but also for fear and anxiety and

grief (Nussbaum, 1996, p. 43). So too with anger:

The pitier acknowledges the importance of certain wordly goods and persons, which can

in principle be damaged by anothers agency. The response to such damages will be pity

38Friedrich Nietzsche,Daybreak(D15).39Both Nietzsche and Rand also claim that selflessness is a vice and selfishness a virtue.

In Nietzsches Beyond Good and Evil (2), for instance, he says that . . . for all the value

that. . .the selfless may deserve, a higher and more fundamental value for life might be

ascribed to. . .selfishness.40Nussbaum (1996) p. 42. Plato,Republic606b, makes a similar point, that insofar as

one pities others one is prone to pity oneself: I suppose that only a few are able to figure

out that enjoyment of other peoples sufferings is necessarily transferred to our own and

that the pitying part, if it is nourished and strengthened on the sufferings of others, wont

be easily held in check when we ourselves suffer.


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that leads us to dwell on our misfortunes and to lamentation, and that can never get

enough of these things, is irrational, idle, and a friend of cowardice.42

Nietzsche, I think, has the same idea in mind when he complains that

pity persuades men to nothingness.43 In a way it condones failure, insofar

as its message is that theres no shame in it. In Nietzsches hands, however,

the point is developed into a larger cultural criticism. He complains that

Christianity the religion of pity has sided with all that is weak and

base, with all failures.44 To this extent it is a culture of mediocrity, at best.

Rather than supporting the strong, creative and successful, the culture or

morality of pity throws its support in every sense of the word, i.e., both

emotional and monetary support behind the weak and unsuccessful:

. . . success in individual cases is constantly encountered in the most widely different

places and cultures: here we really do find a higher type, which is, in relation to mankind

as a whole, a kind of overman. . .Christianity should not be beautified and embellished

[because]. . .it has waged deadly war against this higher type of man.45

Indeed, such men are vilified, hated by the culture of pity: it has placed

all the basic instincts of this [higher] type under the ban; and out of these

instincts it has distilled evil and the Evil One: the strong man as the typically

reprehensible man, the reprobate.46 The result is by and large dull people

and a dull culture:47

The problem I thus pose is not what shall succeed mankind in the sequence of living

beings. . .but what type of man shall bebred, shall bewilled, for being higher in value,

worthier of life, more certain of a future. Even in the past this higher type has appeared

often but as a fortunate accident, as an exception, never as something willed. In fact,

this has been the type most dreaded almost thedreadful and from dread the opposite

type waswilled, bred, and attained: thedomestic animal, theherd animal, thesick human

animal the Christian.48

Clearly, I think, Nietzsches complaints do not presuppose the Stoic

conception of the good. The charge that compassion and sympathy are bad

for both the person pitied and the pitier can be construed entirely neutrally,

42This is compatible with acknowledging that some of Platos critical comments can beconstrued in Stoic terms. See Nussbaum, 1994a, p. 145.

43Nietzsche,The Antichrist7.44Nietzsche,The Antichrist5.45Nietzsche,The Antichrist45.46Nietzsche,The Antichrist5.47It is unclear to me exactly how much, if at all, Nietzsche cares about the state of the

culture as a whole above and beyond how it affects certain individuals, in particular, those

capable of being the higher type.48Nietzsche,The Antichrist3.


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simply as the claim that compassion and pity comfort us in our failurerather than spurring us to success, however success is judged. It does this

in myriad ways. As Plato suggests, it simply takes up time and energy that

might otherwise be spent productively. Nietzsche adds that it has a lasting

psychological effect, causing depression and despair:

Pity stands opposed to the tonic emotions which heighten our vitality: it has a depressing

effect. We are deprived of strength when we feel pity. That loss of strength which

suffering as such inflicts on life is still further increased and multiplied by pity. Pity

makes suffering contagious. Under certain circumstance, it may engender a total loss of

life and vitality out of all proportion to the magnitude of the cause. 49

As for the hate that compassion and pity supposedly breed, to take itas one example of the objectionable emotions associated with compassion

and pity, Nietzsche seems to think that it arises not because compassion

and pity are yoked with placing value on the external goods that the Stoic

conception of the good rejects as valuable. Rather, compassion and pity

breed hate because in their quest to console those who are down, by

whatever standard, it can easily turn to vilifying those who are up, and

everything about them (their instincts). Consolation, in other words, can

be achieved either by bringing up those who are down, or by bringing

down those who are up.50 Pity, Nietzsche seems to think, leans toward the

latter.51 This point is completely neutral with respect to conceptions of the

good. Thus, contra Nussbaum, it is not an essentially Stoic point rooted in aconception of the good that denies the value of external goods. This seems

clear in a passage from the Genealogy of Morals that Nussbaum herself

explicates:

The veiled glance of pity, which looks inward on ones own possibilities with a pro-

found sadness, acknowledging ones own weakness and inadequacy this glance of

the pitier is, Nietzsche argues, the basis of much hatred directed against a world that

makes human beings suffer, and against all those in that world who are not brought low,

who are self-respecting and self-commanding: It is on such soil, on swampy ground,

that every weed, every poisonous plant grows . . .Here the worms of vengefulness and

rancor swarm.52

49Nietzsche,The Antichrist7.50Thus the culture or morality of pity specializes in taking down those who are

successful, whether they deserve it or not. Putative heroes are debunked or slandered, and

replaced by hardship cases.51This is not to say that Nietzsche favors bringing up those who are down, as he seems

to think that only very few are capable of being up of being the overman and thus rather

than trying to bring up those who are down, we should turn our eye to those who are up,

and support them. This elitist strand in Nietzsche I will address in what follows.52Nussbaum, 1996, p. 44; see also Nussbaum, 2001, pp. 362363. The quotation from

Nietzsche is from hisGenealogy of Morals, Book III, Chapter 14.


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Nietzsches central attacks on compassion and pity seem to me, then, tobe independent of any particular conception of the good. Surely they do not

presuppose the Stoic conception of the good. Thus, insofar as Nussbaum

tries to bring Nietzsche entirely into the Stoic fold, she misses or miscon-

strues much of what he has to say. To be fair, there are surely traces of

Stoicism to be found in Nietzsche. Nietzsches critique of the culture or

morality of pity is manysided. In addition, Nietzsche never treats the

topic systematically, bits and pieces appearing in different texts. In all this,

there are surely elements that draw on the Stoic view. But this should not

lead us to interpret all that he says in Stoic terms.

III

So what should we make of the criticisms we find in Plato, Nietzsche and

Rand, now construed in non-Stoic terms, that is, put forth in a way neu-

tral with respect to conceptions of the good? I think that they should not

deeply trouble friends of compassion and pity, though I will give only a

brief, preliminary defense of that claim here. First, Nietzsches criticisms

do not seem to me to call for completely expunging compassion and pity.

Rather, they suggest that these emotions, and the associated virtues, can

be overemphasized, at the expense of the tonic emotions, and their cor-

responding virtues, which heighten our vitality. We can cry and console

too much, be too willing to be undisturbed by weakness and failure orworse, all-too-ready to take a kind of pleasure in misery and its consolation

(compare to Nussbaum, 2001, pp. 375376). The real danger that Nietzsche

points out, it seems to me, is a kind of cult of compassion, according to

which pity comes to be seen as the sole value, the virtue from which all

others are derived. For then there is nothing that spurs us on to positive

achievement. Though Nietzsche himself seems to hold strongly that pity is

necessarily a vice, he does sometimes emphasize that things only get really

bad when pity is made the virtue:

Some have dared to call pity a virtue (in every nobleethic it is considered a weakness);

and if this were not enough, it has been made the virtue, the basis and source of all

virtues. To be sure and one should always keep this in mind this was done by aphilosophy that was nihilistic and had inscribed the negation of life upon its shield.53

What goes along with this is that the problem is not so much directing

resources both emotional and financial toward those who are less rather

than more successful (by whatever standard), but rather exclusively direct-

ing resources toward those who are less rather than more successful. But

53Nietzsche,The Antichrist7.


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508 M. WEBER

surely we can agree that at least some of our resources should go towardthe best and the brightest. People of various political persuasions from

so-called right to left can agree on this. Disagreement is over just

how much should go to the best and the brightest and how much should go

to everybody else.

Of course how much should go to everybody else might depend upon

how much we think that, with sufficient resources, most people are capable

of significant success (by whatever is the relevant standard). Nietzsche, at

least at times, seems pretty clearly to think that it is only the few that have

such capacity. But we might well reject this element of his thought, with the

result that the Nietzschean commitment to excellence is compatible with

dedicating resources to a wide spectrum of people, including, in particular,those who, without such resources, have shown relatively little promise.

All this requires thinking that a little bit of compassion is not like a little

bit of rust, itself corrosive and impossible to prevent from spreading until it

covers all until nothing else remains. But it seems to me that compassion

is not in this way like rust. It is simply not the case that either having or

receiving compassion cripples one in the way Nietzsche suggests: it simply

does not entirely vitiate our vitality. It may if it is made too central to

our emotional and ethical life. But this is just to say that we must not let

compassion and pity take over our lives. It is only then that it is bad for the

pitier and the pitied (Blum, 1994, p. 181, also emphasizes this point).

Nietzsche, and Plato too, sometimes suggest that compassion and pity

inspire nothing beyond providing consolation hugging the hurt part,in Platos words, and weeping and wailing together like children. This

seems to be at least a part of the reason they both want little to do with such

emotions. They both think that instead, or at least as soon as possible, we

should, to put it bluntly, quit crying and set ourselves to putting the disaster

right. This is thefamiliar When thegoinggets tough,the tough getgoing!

There are, I think, two points to be made here in defense of pity and compas-

sion and the associated virtues. First, it seems unfair and I mean just plain

inaccurate to think that compassion and pity inspire only consolation and

it is other emotions other virtues that inspire putting the disaster right

and moving toward high achievement. It seems to me that it is compassion

itself that motivates this moving forward. Compassion calls for consolation,for sure. But it does not end there: compassion also inspires rectifying the

situation seeking, as much as possible, improvement.54 Also, the value of

54It might be denied that compassion has a positive side. Blum (1994, p. 175), for

instance, allows that compassion focuses only on what is negative, and in this way concerns

itself only with alleviating pain and not with producing pleasure. He notes, however, that

while the existence of one altruistic attitude (one concerned with the negative and alleviating

pain) is no assurance of the possession of others (focused and the positive and producing


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consolation should not be understimated. Suffering is a profoundly privateexperience, leaving one isolated and wondering if others care. Consolation

assures those who suffer that others do care. This kind of intimate

engagement with those who suffer, this bringing them back to the social

world of recognition acknowledging that they are suffering, and that they

matter is highly important in itself. The truth in what Nietzsche and Plato

say, then, is that we must be sure that the many aspects of compassion are

all at work, and to the right degree. A too heavy emphasis on getting over

it and putting the disaster right can be counterproductive, just as much

as can be too much emphasis on consolation and dwelling on weakness and

failure.55

I will conclude this preliminary defense with two quick points, bothrelating to the charge, clear in Nietzsche and even clearer in Rand, that

pity leads to an attack on the successful (by whatever standard), because

bringing down those who are successful provides consolation to those who

are not. If this is indeed Nietzsches view, then it seems to me that it confuses

pity and envy. Envy is just as much satisfied by bringing down those who

are successful as it is by lifting oneself up. Pity, on the other hand, does

not have this destructive element. Finally, as a comment on pity being

linked with hate, I offer a psycho-social-political observation. It seems to

me that insofar as those who praise compassion and pity and champion the

less fortunate hate the more successful and the more privileged, it is not

simply because the latter are more successful and privileged. Rather, what

is thought to be disgraceful indeed hateable are those who are moresuccessful and privileged who seem to have little or no concern at all for

the less fortunate. It is not their talent, their success or their privilege that

is hated, but their indifference.56 If this is right and I can offer it only as

a nonscientific observation then it is a mistake to think that those who

think compassion and pity virtues, and who champion the less fortunate, are

part of a negative force comfortable only with misery or worse, actually

attracted to misery and opposed to human achievement and excellence, as

pleasure), there is no reason to think that the two are mutually exclusive. This suggests a

position analogous to mine: while compassion on its own may be undesirable, its presence

is valuable when combined with other emotions that focus on the positive (and producing

pleasure). In this account too, a balance has to be struck, because too much compassion too much focus on the negative and consolation and too much of the more positive

emotions which ignore the need for consolation are equally problematic.55This is a version of a point I made earlier: people are more likely to pull themselves

together if they are offered a little compassion first, just as a person is more likely to learn

a lesson from his mistakes if he is offered a little compassion first.56This indifference might be genuinely hateable only if it is agreed that talent, success

and privilege are to a significant degree the result of luck, as Rawls argues, and, contra

Nozick, that fairness requires mitigating the inequalities that arise from luck. I am not able,

however, to defend these two claims here.


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510 M. WEBER

it is sometimes charged. It is similarly a mistake to think that compassionand pity are inextricably tied up with hatred, as some have charged.

IV

There are, I have argued, objections to compassion and pity that do not

depend on assuming a Stoic conception of the good. These objections,

however, should not convince us that compassion and pity are not virtues.

What they show, rather, is that there are pitfalls and pathologies associated

with these emotions and with an ethic that counts them as virtues.57 In a

world in which so many suffer while a small minority flourishes, it is easy

to invest all ones energy emotional and moral into the plight of thosewho suffer, and to lose sight of perhaps even to develop a certain contempt

for the more privileged and the value of other capacities or virtues that

are essential to the realization of the highest human excellences. This is a

good warning. Issuing such a warning would perhaps not satisfy Plato or

Nietzsche, or Rand and her followers. They might take themselves to have

established something much more radical more antipity. I have argued,

at least in a preliminary fashion, that more radical claims are insufficiently

supported by the arguments given.

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Blum, L., Moral Perception and Particularity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,

1994.

Blum, L.,Friendship, Altruism and Morality. London: Routledge, 1980.

Damasio, A.,Descartes Error:Emotion, Reason and the Human Brain. New York: Putnam,

1994.

DArms, J., and Jacobson, D., The Significance of Recalcitrant Emotion (or, against quasi-

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Department of Philosophy

Yale University

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