UTILITARIANISM

John Stuart Mill

UTILITARIANISM

Second Edition

Edited, with an Introduction,by

George SherRice University

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-PublicationData

Mill, John Stuart, 18061873 Utilitarianism / John Stuart Mill ; edited, with anintroduction, byGeorge Sher.2nd ed. p. cm.

Includes bibliographical references. ISBN 0-87220-606-8 (cloth) ISBN 0-87220-605-X (pbk.) 1. Utilitarianism. I. Sher, George. II. Title.

B1571.M6 2001

2001039619

171'.5dc21

ISBN-13: 978-0-87220-606-9 (cloth) ISBN-13: 978-0-87220-605-2 (pbk.)

ePub ISBN: 978-1-60384-270-9

CONTENTS

Editors IntroductionSelected Bibliography

UTILITARIANISM

CHAPTER I GENERALREMARKS

CHAPTER II WHATUTILITARIANISMIS

CHAPTER III OF THEULTIMATESANCTION OFTHE PRINCIPLEOF UTILITY

CHAPTER IV OF WHAT SORTOF PROOF THEPRINCIPLE OFUTILITY ISSUSCEPTIBLE

CHAPTER V ON THECONNECTION

BETWEENJUSTICE ANDUTILITY

APPENDIX APRIL 1868SPEECH ONCAPITALPUNISHMENT

EDITORSINTRODUCTION

Although much has been written aboutright and wrong, it is useful to separatedifferent theories about these mattersinto two main categories. Putting thedistinction somewhat crudely, we cansay that on any theory of ethics wechoose, an acts rightness or wrongnesswill reside either in the nature of the actitself or in the results that the act bringsabout. If we take the first approach, wewill say that acts such as theft andmurder are wrong in principle,irrespective of any further consequencesthat they may bring; whereas if we take

the second approach, we will sayinstead that these acts are wrongprecisely because they bring aboutcertain bad or undesirableconsequences. Although proponents ofthe second approach have differed as toe x a c t l y w h i c h consequences aredesirable and undesirable, perhaps themost common view is that these traitsare directly related to human happiness.In particular, the single most influentialtheory of the consequence-orientedvariety has been that we should alwaysperform that act, of those available, thatwill bring the most happiness or theleast unhappiness. The principle that weshould always act in this manner (takinginto account both the short- and the long-

term consequences of our acts andtreating the happiness of other people asequal in value to our own) is known asutilitarianism; and its correctness is themain thesis of the essay of the samename by John Stuart Mill (18061873).

Originally published in threeinstallments in Frasers Magazine(1861), Mills essay on utilitarianism istoday the most widely read exposition ofits subject. It was not, however, the first.Elements of utilitarian thought areclearly discernible in the writings ofsuch earlier philosophers as DavidHume (17161776), and the doctrinewas given its first precise formulationby the English philosopher and social

reformer Jeremy Bentham (17481832).Through Bentham, the doctrine wascommunicated to a variety of prominentEnglish men of letters, among them thephilosopher and economist James Mill,John Stuarts father. Under Benthamsinfluence, James Mill incorporated theprinciples of utilitarianism into aneducation, for his son, of unparalleledscope and depth. The young Mill beganhis study of Greek at the age of three,began learning Latin at eight, andsubsequently read exhaustively in manyareas, including philosophy, logic,mathematics, history, and the classics.Although Mills early and intenseeducation was not without its personalcostshe underwent a period of acute

and painful depression in his earlytwentiesits enduring legacy is thesplendid passion for knowledge andtruth that informs all of Mills writings.As Mill himself puts it inUtilitarianism, A cultivated mindIdo not mean that of a philosopher, butany mind to which the fountains ofknowledge have been opened, and whichhas been taught, in any tolerable degree,to exercise its facultiesfinds sourcesof inexhaustible interest in all thatsurrounds it: in the objects of nature, theachievements of art, the imaginations ofpoetry, the incidents of history, the waysof mankind, past and present, and theirprospects in the future. As both his

words and his training would lead us toexpect, Mills own writings span animpressive variety of diverse areas. Hisbooks and essays are still studied fortheir insights into logic, epistemology,philosophy of science, and socialphilosophy, as well as the field ofethical theory, which is our currentconcern.

If Mills statement of the utilitariantheory of ethics is merely one amongmany others, what accounts for itsenduring popularity? Why has it, ratherthan the earlier work of Bentham, thelater studies of Sidgwick, or the moresophisticated efforts of contemporaryutilitarians, so often been considered the

best single introduction to the subject?Although these questions may have manyanswers, the popularity ofUtilitarianism surely must rest in largemeasure on its unequalled combinationof brevity and breadth. In the space offive short chapters, Mill not onlyexplains in some detail what theprinciple of utility says but also exhibitsits connections with other theories;attempts to display its grounding in thefacts of human nature; sympatheticallystates and responds to a number ofcommon objections to it; and shows howit can capture much of the complexity,subtlety, and variety of our ordinarymoral and valuational framework.Although a full discussion of all these

issues is beyond our scope, a briefdiscussion of some of them will serve todeepen our understanding of Millsposition. Because the positions realstrength lies less in Mills formal proofof the principle of utility than in hisanswers to objections to it and hisexplanations of our ordinary moralfeelings and distinctions, it is the latterelements of Mills discussion that willbe stressed here.

We may begin by considering two ofthe most common objections toutilitarianism. According to theutilitarian, we should always act in amanner that will maximize overallhappiness. However, although

maximizing happiness appears a worthygoal, it may seem to entail a practicaldifficulty. In order to d o what willmaximize overall happiness, we mustfirst know what will maximize overallhappiness; and in order to know this inany particular situation, we must know atleast the following: (1) which people,present and future, will be affected byeach of the actions we might perform;(2) what the effects of each possibleaction are likely to be on each of them;and (3) how happy or unhappy eachindividual will be made by each of theseeffects. However, although wesometimes do have all of this detailedinformation at our disposal, morecommonly we do not. To whatever

extent the required information is noteasily obtainable, any attempt to followthe utilitarian principle will beextremely difficult if not actuallyimpossible.

In addition to these practicaldifficulties, moreover, there may also beserious doubts about the moral rightnessof following the greatest happinessprinciple in some instances. Forexample, it clearly seems wrong toperform such acts as lying, theft, andmurder, and yet there is no guarantee thatsuch acts will always bring about lesshappiness than their alternative. Thus,utilitarianism is often held to be unableto do complete justice to our moral

aversion to such acts.Although the practical and moral

objections to utilitarianism seem entirelydistinct, Mill responds by establishingan extremely interesting connectionbetween them. To the objection thatpeople usually do not have time to gatherthe information that utilitariancalculation requires, Mill replies thatthere is no reason to suppose that theinformation-gathering process mustbegin afresh for every particulardecision. Once we appreciate that pastexperience is a highly reliable guide tonew situations, we realize that there hasbeen ample time [for informationgathering], namely, the whole past

duration of the human species. During allthat time mankind have been learning byexperience the tendencies of actions; onwhich experience all the prudence aswell as all the morality of life aredependent. Because what has beenlearned during this time is precisely thatacts such as murder and theft are highlyunlikely to promote the generalhappiness, we can be confident that weare following the utilitarian principlewhen we avoid them. But if this is so,then our moral aversion to these acts canindeed be explained on utilitariangrounds. They may indeed be forbiddenby certain moral rules; but these moralrules will themselves be secondaryones, deriving their status entirely from

the fact that following them willgenerally maximize happiness.

Mills response to the two objectionsis highly ingenious. Nevertheless, it maybe wondered whether the response isfully capable of meeting the second(moral) objection. Suppose we simplygrant that avoiding lying, theft, andmurder generally does maximizehappiness, and that utility is usuallymaximized if people do not bother tocalculate the utilities when such acts areat issue. Even so, it seems that theremust remain at least a small number ofcases in which it takes no calculation atall to realize that the utilities arestrongly on the side of one of the

forbidden acts. Isnt telling a lie, orcommitting a murder, sometimes the actthat obviously will bring about the mosthappiness to the most people? And if so,then wont there remain at least somecases in which we are enjoined by theutility principle to do somethingessentially wrong?

According to Mill, the answer to thisquestion is not as obvious as it mightseem; for even if a lie or a murderwould have a number of clearlybeneficial consequences, it is also likelyto have significant hidden costs that tellheavily against it. As Mill puts the pointwith respect to lying, It would often beexpedient . . . to tell a lie. But inasmuch

as the cultivation in ourselves of asensitive feeling on the subject ofveracity is one of the most useful, andthe enfeeblement of that feeling one ofthe most hurtful, things to which ourconduct can be instrumental; andinasmuch as any, even unintentional,deviation from truth does that muchtoward weakening the trustworthiness ofhuman assertion . . . we feel that theviolation, for a present advantage, of arule of such transcendent expediency, isnot expedient. Once we appreciate thedisastrous social consequences that ageneral weakening of trust would bring,we will realize that the gap between ourfeelings about lying and the dictates ofutility is much smaller than it first

appears to be. Moreover, when wefurther realize that not just utilitarians,but (almost) all others, will allow lyingunder some extreme circumstances, wewill no longer find the gap disturbing atall. Whether this account is in factadequate to our intuitions about lying,and if so whether it can also be extendedto accommodate our feelings aboutassault, theft, and murder, are questionsthat readers may consider forthemselves.

Although Mills explanation of ourfeelings about lying, theft, and murder isat least initially plausible, there areother elements of our ordinary moralframework that may seem harder for him

to explain. First of all, even if thewrongness of lying and murder isclosely connected to the unhappinessthey bring, it seems unreasonable simplyto identify rightness with themaximization of happiness andwrongness with the reverse of this. If wedid make this identification, we wouldimply that people are acting wronglywhenever they are not busy bringingabout the most happiness they possiblycould bringa charge that might leavemany of us with little time for ourprivate pursuits. To avoid this extremeconclusion, the utilitarian must somehowdistinguish between what we areobligated to do and what it would bemerely nice for us to do. Moreover, in

addition to right and wrong, ourcustomary moral framework alsocontains such notions as individualrights and justice; and the task ofexplaining these concepts may beexpected to test the utilitarian stillfurther. Finally, on another level,utilitarianism may be said to rest upontoo simple a valuational base; for theinjunction to maximize happinessappears to imply that all forms ofhappiness are equally valuable, whereasmany people would say instead thatthere are more and less worthy forms ofhappiness. To conclude our discussionof Utilitarianism, let us briefly examineMills responses to these further

complications.Mills account of right and wrong,

individual rights, and justice is to befound in the difficult but rewarding finalchapter of the book. Greatlycompressed, that account appears toproceed as follows. Right and wrong,Mill argues, are indeed not simplyequivalent to what does and does notmaximize happiness. Instead, an act thatfails to maximize happiness is calledwrong only if we mean to imply that aperson ought to be punished in some wayor other for doing itif not by law, bythe opinion of his fellow creatures; if notby opinion, by the reproaches of his ownconscience. Moreover, just as acts that

are wrong are only a subset of those thatfail to maximize happiness, so too areacts that are unjust only a further subsetof those that are wrong. In order to beunjust, Mill argues, an act not only mustbe wrong but also must violate the rightsof some particular personin otherwords, must interfere with a validclaim [which the person has] on societyto protect him in the possession of[something], either by the force of lawor by that of education and opinion.Because valid claims to socialprotection are determined by no otherreason than general utility, and becauserights (and so, too, justice) are definedin terms of such claims, the wholestructure rests squarely on a utilitarian

base. Finally, because justice helps tosecure everyone against harm, andbecause people have a strong naturaldesire to retaliate against others whoharm them, the singular importance thatwe attach to justice can be explained asreflecting a socialized and generalized,but still potent, remnant of the primitivedesire for vengeance.

Although this brief summary only hintsat the complexity of Mills account, andalthough one might wonder whether hisaccount of right and wrong is reallycompatible with the view that we shouldalways maximize happiness, enough hasbeen said to suggest that rights andjustice are not the embarrassment to Mill

that one might expect them to be. Itremains to be seen, however, whetherthe same can be said for the allegeddistinction between the higher and lowersorts of happiness. In Benthamsformulation, utilitarianism had explicitlyweighed all pleasures and pains alike.Provided only that they were alike induration, intensity, and certain otherdimensions, sublime experiences ofintellect or sentiment were to count nomore heavily than moments of trivialentertainment or animal gratification. AsBentham himself put it, quantity ofpleasure being equal, pushpin is as goodas poetry. According to Mill, however,the utilitarian need not accept thisconsequence; for there i s a basis upon

which we may compare types ofhappiness: Of two pleasures, if there beone to which all or almost all who haveexperience of both give a decidedpreference, irrespective of any feeling ofmoral obligation to prefer it, that is themore desirable pleasure. When this testis applied to the more and less elevatedpleasures, we find that Few humancreatures would consent to be changedinto any of the lower animals for apromise of the fullest allowance of abeasts pleasures. In short, becauseanyone who has experienced both thecivilized pleasures and those we sharewith the brutes will prefer the former, itfollows that the civilized pleasures are

vastly preferable.At first glance, Mills claim that some

forms of happiness are better than othersmay seem flatly inconsistent with thegreatest happiness principle; for to saythat happiness should be maximized isapparently to imply that all forms of itare equally valuable. This inconsistency,however, is hardly a serious one; for toresolve it, we need only adjust the waywe interpret the principle of utility.Instead of telling us to bring the greatestamount of overall happiness, theprinciple must instead be read as tellingus to maximize a certain weighted sum:for example, if the higher pleasures areascertained to be worth twice as much

as the lower ones, then they will counttwice as heavily in our calculations, andso on. Nevertheless, although it easilycan be made consistent with his generalutilitarianism, Mills claim that someforms of happiness are worth more thanothers does not appear to be establishedby the argument he presents for it; foreven if people who have known bothsorts of pleasure do prefer the civilizedkind, that preference does notnecessarily reflect a difference in thequality of the pleasures involved. Onealternative explanation of it is that thecivilized pleasures are preferredbecause they are perceived to be saferor more profitable in the long run;another is that they are generally felt to

be more intense. Because these, andperhaps other, possibilities remain open,Mills contention that some forms ofhappiness are in themselves morevaluable than others remains unproven.Just how one might successfullyestablish it is an interesting and difficultquestion, which we will not furtherexplore.

So far, we have considered theprinciple of utility mainly as it pertainsto individual acts. However, utilitarianconsiderations are also relevant tolarge-scale social decisionsthe factthat a law would maximize well-beingor minimize suffering is an obviousreason to adopt itand Mill was adept

at mounting arguments of just this sort.His use of such reasoning is illustratedin a speech defending capitalpunishment, reprinted in this volume,which he delivered when arepresentative in the House ofCommons. In that speech, Mill defendsthe use of capital punishment in cases ofaggravated murder on two recognizablyutilitarian grounds: first, that a quickdeath is actually more humane than alengthy period of incarceration, but that,second, the natural tendency to feardeath makes it seem worse to criminalsand in that way increases its deterrentpower. To the objection that the deathpenalty once administered is irrevocablean objection whose force he

acknowledgeshe replies that the riskof error can be kept infinitesimal byexecuting prisoners only when theevidence of their guilt meetsexceptionally high standards.

In ethics, as in other areas of inquiry,a theorys adequacy is judged in largemeasure by the scope and diversity ofthe phenomena that it can successfullyexplain. I have tried to show in thisIntroduction that despite its difficulties,Mills version of utilitarianism satisfiesthis criterion surprisingly wellaswell, perhaps, as any other fullydeveloped ethical theory that has everbeen proposed. To some, this fact willsuggest only that a fully acceptable

ethical theory has yet to be devised; toothers, it will imply that we should takeseriously the case for utilitarianismstruth. Whichever moral we choose todraw, Mills accomplishment remainssecure. His defense of utilitarianism maynot be the last word in ethical theorizing,but it remains a standard against whichother attempts must be judged.

SELECTEDBIBLIOGRAPHY

OTHER MAJOR WORKSBY MILL

A System of Logic (1843)Principles of Political Economy, 7th ed.

(1848)On Liberty (1859)Considerations on Representative

Government (1861)An Examination of Sir William

Hamiltons Philosophy (1865)The Subjection of Women (1869)

Autobiography (1873)

BOOKS ANDCOLLECTIONS ON MILLS

PHILOSOPHY

Anschutz, R. P. The Philosophy of JohnStuart Mill (Oxford: OxfordUniversity Press, 1953).

Berger, Fred R. Happiness, Justice, andFreedom: The Moral and PoliticalPhilosophy of John Stuart Mill(Berkeley, CA: University ofCalifornia Press, 1984).

Britton, Karl. John Stuart Mill (London:Penguin, 1953).

Crisp, Roger. Mill on Utilitarianism(London and New York: Routledge,1997).

Lyons, David, ed. Mills Utilitarianism:Critical Essays (Lanham, MD:

Rowman and Littlefield, 1997).Ryan, Alan. J. S. Mill (London:

Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1974).Skorupski, John. John Stuart Mill

(London and New York: Routledge,1989).

_____, ed. The Cambridge Companionto Mill (Cambridge: CambridgeUniversity Press, 1998).

CONTEMPORARY

DISCUSSIONS OFUTILITARIANISM

Hardin, Russell. Morality within theLimits of Reason (Chicago:University of Chicago Press, 1988).

Hodgson, D. H. Consequences ofUtilitarianism (Oxford: OxfordUniversity Press, 1967).

Kagan, Shelly. The Limits of Morality(Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1989).

Lyons, David. The Forms and Limits ofUtilitarianism (Oxford: ClarendonPress, 1965).

Parfit, Derek. Reasons and Persons(Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984).

Scheffler, Samuel. The Rejection ofConsequentialism (Oxford:Clarendon Press, 1982).

Sen, Amartya, and Bernard Williams,eds. Utilitarianism and Beyond(Cambridge: Cambridge UniversityPress, 1982).

Smart, J. J. C., and Bernard Williams.Utilitarianism: For and Against(Cambridge: Cambridge UniversityPress, 1973).

Utilitarianism

CHAPTER I

GENERAL REMARKSThere are few circumstances amongthose which make up the presentcondition of human knowledge moreunlike what might have been expected,or more significant of the backward statein which speculation on the mostimportant subjects still lingers, than thelittle progress which has been made inthe decision of the controversy

respecting the criterion of right andwrong. From the dawn of philosophy,the question concerning the summumbonum, or, what is the same thing,concerning the foundation of morality,has been accounted the main problem inspeculative thought, has occupied themost gifted intellects and divided theminto sects and schools carrying on avigorous warfare against one another.And after more than two thousand yearsthe same discussions continue,philosophers are still ranged under thesame contending banners, and neitherthinkers nor mankind at large seemnearer to being unanimous on the subjectthan when the youth Socrates listened tothe old Protagoras and asserted (if

Platos dialogue be grounded on a realconversation) the theory of utilitarianismagainst the popular morality of the so-called sophist.

It is true that similar confusion anduncertainty and, in some cases, similardiscordance exist respecting the firstprinciples of all the sciences, notexcepting that which is deemed the mostcertain of themmathematics, withoutmuch impairing, generally indeedwithout impairing at all, thetrustworthiness of the conclusions ofthose sciences. An apparent anomaly, theexplanation of which is that the detaileddoctrines of a science are not usuallydeduced from, nor depend for their

evidence upon, what are called its firstprinciples. Were it not so, there wouldbe no science more precarious, orwhose conclusions were moreinsufficiently made out, than algebra,which derives none of its certainty fromwhat are commonly taught to learners asits elements, since these, as laid downby some of its most eminent teachers, areas full of fictions as English law, and ofmysteries as theology. The truths whichare ultimately accepted as the firstprinciples of a science are really the lastresults of metaphysical analysispracticed on the elementary notions withwhich the science is conversant; andtheir relation to the science is not that offoundations to an edifice, but of roots to

a tree, which may perform their officeequally well though they be never dugdown to and exposed to light. But thoughin science the particular truths precedethe general theory, the contrary might beexpected to be the case with a practicalart, such as morals or legislation. Allaction is for the sake of some end, andrules of action, it seems natural tosuppose, must take their whole characterand color from the end to which they aresubservient. When we engage in pursuit,a clear and precise conception of whatwe are pursuing would seem to be thefirst thing we need, instead of the last weare to look forward to. A test of rightand wrong must be the means, one would

think, of ascertaining what is right orwrong, and not a consequence of havingalready ascertained it.

The difficulty is not avoided byhaving recourse to the popular theory ofa natural faculty, a sense of instinct,informing us of right and wrong. Forbesides that the existence of such amoral instinct is itself one of the mattersin disputethose believers in it whohave any pretensions to philosophy havebeen obliged to abandon the idea that itdiscerns what is right or wrong in theparticular case in hand, as our othersenses discern the sight or soundactually present. Our moral faculty,according to all those of its interpreters

who are entitled to the name of thinkers,supplies us only with the generalprinciples of moral judgments; it is abranch of our reason, not of our sensitivefaculty, and must be looked to for theabstract doctrines of morality, not forperception of it in the concrete. Theintuitive, no less than what may betermed the inductive, school of ethicsinsists on the necessity of general laws.They both agree that the morality of anindividual action is not a question ofdirect perception, but of the applicationof a law to an individual case. Theyrecognize also, to a great extent, thesame moral laws, but differ as to theirevidence and the source from which theyderive their authority. According to the

one opinion, the principles of morals areevident a priori, requiring nothing tocommand assent except that the meaningof the terms be understood. According tothe other doctrine, right and wrong, aswell as truth and falsehood, arequestions of observation and experience.But both hold equally that morality mustbe deduced from principles; and theintuitive school affirm as strongly as theinductive that there is a science ofmorals. Yet they seldom attempt to makeout a list of the a priori principles whichare to serve as the premises of thescience; still more rarely do they makeany effort to reduce those variousprinciples to one first principle or

common ground of obligation. Theyeither assume the ordinary precepts ofmorals as of a priori authority, or theylay down as the common groundwork ofthose maxims some generality much lessobviously authoritative than the maximsthemselves, and which has neversucceeded in gaining popularacceptance. Yet to support theirpretensions there ought either to be someone fundamental principle or law at theroot of all morality, or, if there beseveral, there should be a determinateorder of precedence among them; and theone principle, or the rule for decidingbetween the various principles whenthey conflict, ought to be self-evident.

To inquire how far the bad effects ofthis deficiency have been mitigated inpractice, or to what extent the moralbeliefs of mankind have been vitiated ormade uncertain by the absence of anydistinct recognition of an ultimatestandard, would imply a completesurvey and criticism of past and presentethical doctrine. It would, however, beeasy to show that whatever steadiness orconsistency these moral beliefs haveattained has been mainly due to the tacitinfluence of a standard not recognized.Although the nonexistence of anacknowledged first principle has madeethics not so much a guide as aconsecration of mens actual sentiments,

still, as mens sentiments, both of favorand of aversion, are greatly influencedby what they suppose to be the effects ofthings upon their happiness, the principleof utility, or, as Bentham latterly calledit, the greatest happiness principle, hashad a large share in forming the moraldoctrines even of those who mostscornfully reject its authority. Nor isthere any school of thought whichrefuses to admit that the influence ofactions on happiness is a most materialand even predominant consideration inmany of the details of morals, howeverunwilling to acknowledge it as thefundamental principle of morality andthe source of moral obligation. I mightgo much further and say that to all those

a priori moralists who deem itnecessary to argue at all, utilitarianarguments are indispensable. It is not myp r e s e nt purpose to criticize thesethinkers; but I cannot help referring, forillustration, to a systematic treatise byone of the most illustrious of them, theMetaphysics of Ethics by Kant. Thisremarkable man, whose system ofthought will long remain one of thelandmarks in the history of philosophicalspeculation, does, in the treatise inquestion, lay down a universal firstprinciple as the origin and ground ofmoral obligation; it is this: So act thatthe rule on which thou actest wouldadmit of being adopted as a law by all

rational beings. But when he begins todeduce from this precept any of theactual duties of morality, he fails, almostgrotesquely, to show that there would beany contradiction, any logical (not to sayphysical) impossibility, in the adoptionby all rational beings of the mostoutrageously immoral rules of conduct.All he shows is that the consequences oftheir universal adoption would be suchas no one would choose to incur.

On the present occasion, I shall,without further discussion of the othertheories, attempt to contribute somethingtoward the understanding andappreciation of the utilitarian orhappiness theory, and toward such

proof as it is susceptible of. It is evidentthat this cannot be proof in the ordinaryand popular meaning of the term.Questions of ultimate ends are notamenable to direct proof. Whatever canbe proved to be good must be so bybeing shown to be a means to somethingadmitted to be good without proof. Themedical art is proved to be good by itsconducing to health; but how is itpossible to prove that health is good?The art of music is good, for the reason,among others, that it produces pleasure;but what proof is it possible to give thatpleasure is good? If, then, it is assertedthat there is a comprehensive formula,including all things which are inthemselves good, and that whatever else

is good is not so as an end but as ameans, the formula may be accepted orrejected, but is not a subject of what iscommonly understood by proof. We arenot, however, to infer that its acceptanceor rejection must depend on blindimpulse or arbitrary choice. There is alarger meaning of the word proof, inwhich this question is as amenable to itas any other of the disputed questions ofphilosophy. The subject is within thecognizance of the rational faculty; andneither does that faculty deal with itsolely in the way of intuition.Considerations may be presentedcapable of determining the intellecteither to give or withhold its assent to

the doctrine; and this is equivalent toproof.

We shall examine presently of whatnature are these considerations; in whatmanner they apply to the case, and whatrational grounds, therefore, can be givenfor accepting or rejecting the utilitarianformula. But it is a preliminary conditionof rational acceptance or rejection thatthe formula should be correctlyunderstood. I believe that the veryimperfect notion ordinarily formed of itsmeaning is the chief obstacle whichimpedes its reception, and that, could itbe cleared even from only the grossermisconceptions, the question would begreatly simplified and a large proportion

of its difficulties removed. Before,therefore, I attempt to enter into thephilosophical grounds which can begiven for assenting to the utilitarianstandard, I shall offer some illustrationsof the doctrine itself, with the view ofshowing more clearly what it is,distinguishing it from what it is not, anddisposing of such of the practicalobjections to it as either originate in, orare closely connected with, mistakeninterpretations of its meaning. Havingthus prepared the ground, I shallafterwards endeavor to throw such lightas I can upon the question considered asone of philosophical theory.

CHAPTER II

WHAT UTILITARIANISM ISA passing remark is all that needs begiven to the ignorant blunder ofsupposing that those who stand up forutility as the test of right and wrong usethe term in that restricted and merelycolloquial sense in which utility isopposed to pleasure. An apology is dueto the philosophical opponents ofutilitarianism for even the momentaryappearance of confounding them withanyone capable of so absurd amisconception; which is the more

extraordinary, inasmuch as the contraryaccusation, of referring everything topleasure, and that, too, in its grossestform, is another of the common chargesagainst utilitarianism: and, as has beenpointedly remarked by an able writer,the same sort of persons, and often thevery same persons, denounce the theoryas impracticably dry when the wordutility precedes the word pleasure,and as too practicably voluptuous whenthe word pleasure precedes the wordutility. Those who know anythingabout the matter are aware that everywriter, from Epicurus to Bentham, whomaintained the theory of utility meant byit, not something to becontradistinguished from pleasure, but

pleasure itself, together with exemptionfrom pain; and instead of opposing theuseful to the agreeable or theornamental, have always declared thatthe useful means these, among otherthings. Yet the common herd, includingthe herd of writers, not only innewspapers and periodicals, but inbooks of weight and pretension, areperpetually falling into this shallowmistake. Having caught up the wordutilitarian, while knowing nothingwhatever about it but its sound, theyhabitually express by it the rejection orthe neglect of pleasure in some of itsforms: of beauty, of ornament, or ofamusement. Nor is the term thus

ignorantly misapplied solely indisparagement, but occasionally incompliment, as though it impliedsuperiority to frivolity and the merepleasures of the moment. And thisperverted use is the only one in whichthe word is popularly known, and theone from which the new generation areacquiring their sole notion of itsmeaning. Those who introduced theword, but who had for many yearsdiscontinued it as a distinctiveappellation, may well feel themselvescalled upon to resume it if by doing sothey can hope to contribute anythingtoward rescuing it from this utterdegradation.1

The creed which accepts as thefoundation of morals utility or thegreatest happiness principle holds thatactions are right in proportion as theytend to promote happiness; wrong asthey tend to produce the reverse ofhappiness. By happiness is intendedpleasure and the absence of pain; byunhappiness, pain and the privation ofpleasure. To give a clear view of themoral standard set up by the theory,much more requires to be said; inparticular, what things it includes in theideas of pain and pleasure, and to whatextent this is left an open question. Butthese supplementary explanations do notaffect the theory of life on which this

theory of morality is groundednamely,that pleasure and freedom from pain arethe only things desirable as ends; andthat all desirable things (which are asnumerous in the utilitarian as in anyother scheme) are desirable either forpleasure inherent in themselves or asmeans to the promotion of pleasure andthe prevention of pain.

Now such a theory of life excites inmany minds, and among them in some ofthe most estimable in feeling andpurpose, inveterate dislike. To supposethat life has (as they express it) no higherend than pleasureno better and noblerobject of desire and pursuittheydesignate as utterly mean and groveling,

as a doctrine worthy only of swine, towhom the followers of Epicurus were, ata very early period, contemptuouslylikened; and modern holders of thedoctrine are occasionally made thesubject of equally polite comparisons byits German, French, and Englishassailants.

When thus attacked, the Epicureanshave always answered that it is not they,but their accusers, who represent humannature in a degrading light, since theaccusation supposes human beings to becapable of no pleasures except those ofwhich swine are capable. If thissupposition were true, the charge couldnot be gainsaid, but would then be no

longer an imputation; for if the sourcesof pleasure were precisely the same tohuman beings and to swine, the rule oflife which is good enough for the onewould be good enough for the other. Thecomparison of the Epicurean life to thatof beasts is felt as degrading, preciselybecause a beasts pleasures do notsatisfy a human beings conceptions ofhappiness. Human beings have facultiesmore elevated than the animal appetitesand, when once made conscious of them,do not regard anything as happinesswhich does not include theirgratification. I do not, indeed, considerthe Epicureans to have been by anymeans faultless in drawing out theirscheme of consequences from the

utilitarian principle. To do this in anysufficient manner, many Stoic, as well asChristian, elements require to beincluded. But there is no knownEpicurean theory of life which does notassign to the pleasures of the intellect, ofthe feelings and imagination, and of themoral sentiments a much higher value aspleasures than to those of meresensation. It must be admitted, however,that utilitarian writers in general haveplaced the superiority of mental overbodily pleasures chiefly in the greaterpermanency, safety, uncostliness, etc., ofthe formerthat is, in theircircumstantial advantages rather than intheir intrinsic nature. And on all these

points utilitarians have fully proved theircase; but they might have taken the otherand, as it may be called, higher groundwith entire consistency. It is quitecompatible with the principle of utilityto recognize the fact that some kinds ofpleasure are more desirable and morevaluable than others. It would be absurdthat, while in estimating all other thingsquality is considered as well as quantity,the estimation of pleasure should besupposed to depend on quantity alone.

If I am asked what I mean bydifference of quality in pleasures, orwhat makes one pleasure more valuablethan another, merely as a pleasure,except its being greater in amount, there

is but one possible answer. Of twopleasures, if there be one to which all oralmost all who have experience of bothgive a decided preference, irrespectiveof any feeling of moral obligation toprefer it, that is the more desirablepleasure. If one of the two is, by thosewho are competently acquainted withboth, placed so far above the other thatthey prefer it, even though knowing it tobe attended with a greater amount ofdiscontent, and would not resign it forany quantity of the other pleasure whichtheir nature is capable of, we arejustified in ascribing to the preferredenjoyment a superiority in quality so faroutweighing quantity as to render it, incomparison, of small account.

Now it is an unquestionable fact thatthose who are equally acquainted withand equally capable of appreciating andenjoying both do give a most markedpreference to the manner of existencewhich employs their higher faculties.Few human creatures would consent tobe changed into any of the lower animalsfor a promise of the fullest allowance ofa beasts pleasures; no intelligent humanbeing would consent to be a fool, noinstructed person would be anignoramus, no person of feeling andconscience would be selfish and base,even though they should be persuadedthat the fool, the dunce, or the rascal isbetter satisfied with his lot than they are

with theirs. They would not resign whatthey possess more than he for the mostcomplete satisfaction of all the desireswhich they have in common with him. Ifthey ever fancy they would, it is only incases of unhappiness so extreme that toescape from it they would exchange theirlot for almost any other, howeverundesirable in their own eyes. A beingof higher faculties requires more to makehim happy, is capable probably of moreacute suffering, and certainly accessibleto it at more points, than one of aninferior type; but in spite of theseliabilities, he can never really wish tosink into what he feels to be a lowergrade of existence. We may give whatexplanation we please of this

unwillingness; we may attribute it topride, a name which is givenindiscriminately to some of the most andto some of the least estimable feelings ofwhich mankind are capable; we mayrefer it to the love of liberty andpersonal independence, an appeal towhich was with the Stoics one of themost effective means for the inculcationof it; to the love of power or to the loveof excitement, both of which do reallyenter into and contribute to it; but itsmost appropriate appellation is a senseof dignity, which all human beingspossess in one form or other, and insome, though by no means in exact,proportion to their higher faculties, and

which is so essential a part of thehappiness of those in whom it is strongthat nothing which conflicts with it couldbe otherwise than momentarily an objectof desire to them. Whoever supposesthat this preference takes place at asacrifice of happinessthat the superiorbeing, in anything like equalcircumstances, is not happier than theinferiorconfounds the two verydifferent ideas of happiness and content.It is indisputable that the being whosecapacities of enjoyment are low has thegreatest chance of having them fullysatisfied; and a highly endowed beingwill always feel that any happinesswhich he can look for, as the world isconstituted, is imperfect. But he can

learn to bear its imperfections, if theyare at all bearable; and they will notmake him envy the being who is indeedunconscious of the imperfections, butonly because he feels not at all the goodwhich those imperfections qualify. It isbetter to be a human being dissatisfiedthan a pig satisfied; better to be Socratesdissatisfied than a fool satisfied. And ifthe fool, or the pig, are of a differentopinion, it is because they only knowtheir own side of the question. The otherparty to the comparison knows bothsides.

It may be objected that many who arecapable of the higher pleasuresoccasionally, under the influence of

temptation, postpone them to the lower.But this is quite compatible with a fullappreciation of the intrinsic superiorityof the higher. Men often, from infirmityof character, make their election for thenearer good, though they know it to bethe less valuable; and this no less whenthe choice is between two bodilypleasures than when it is between bodilyand mental. They pursue sensualindulgences to the injury of health,though perfectly aware that health is thegreater good. It may be further objectedthat many who begin with youthfulenthusiasm for everything noble, as theyadvance in years, sink into indolenceand selfishness. But I do not believe thatthose who undergo this very common

change voluntarily choose the lowerdescription of pleasures in preference tothe higher. I believe that, before theydevote themselves exclusively to theone, they have already becomeincapable of the other. Capacity forother nobler feelings is in most natures avery tender plant, easily killed, not onlyby hostile influences, but by mere wantof sustenance; and in the majority ofyoung persons it speedily dies away ifthe occupations to which their positionin life has devoted them, and the societyinto which it has thrown them, are notfavorable to keeping that higher capacityin exercise. Men lose their highaspirations as they lose their intellectual

tastes, because they have not time oropportunity for indulging them; and theyaddict themselves to inferior pleasures,not because they deliberately preferthem, but because they are either the onlyones to which they have access or theonly ones which they are any longercapable of enjoying. It may bequestioned whether anyone who hasremained equally susceptible to bothclasses of pleasures ever knowingly andcalmly preferred the lower, thoughmany, in all ages, have broken down inan ineffectual attempt to combine both.

From this verdict of the onlycompetent judges, I apprehend there canbe no appeal. On a question which is the

best worth having of two pleasures, orwhich of two modes of existence is themost grateful to the feelings, apart fromits moral attributes and from itsconsequences, the judgment of those whoare qualified by knowledge of both, or,if they differ, that of the majority amongthem, must be admitted as final. Andthere needs be the less hesitation toaccept this judgment respecting thequality of pleasures, since there is noother tribunal to be referred to even onthe question of quantity. What means arethere of determining which is the acutestof two pains, or the intensest of twopleasurable sensations, except thegeneral suffrage of those who arefamiliar with both? Neither pains nor

pleasures are homogeneous, and pain isalways heterogeneous with pleasure.What is there to decide whether aparticular pleasure is worth purchasingat the cost of a particular pain, exceptthe feelings and judgment of theexperienced? When, therefore, thosefeelings and judgment declare thepleasures derived from the higherfaculties to be preferable in kind, apartfrom the question of intensity, to those ofwhich the animal nature, disjoined fromthe higher faculties, is susceptible, theyare entitled on this subject to the sameregard.

I have dwelt on this point as being anecessary part of a perfectly just

conception of utility or happinessconsidered as the directive rule ofhuman conduct. But it is by no means anindispensable condition to theacceptance of the utilitarian standard; forthat standard is not the agents owngreatest happiness, but the greatestamount of happiness altogether; and if itmay possibly be doubted whether anoble character is always the happier forits nobleness, there can be no doubt thatit makes other people happier, and thatthe world in general is immensely againer by it. Utilitarianism, therefore,could only attain its end by the generalcultivation of nobleness of character,even if each individual were onlybenefited by the nobleness of others, and

his own, so far as happiness isconcerned, were a sheer deduction fromthe benefit. But the bare enunciation ofsuch an absurdity as this last rendersrefutation superfluous.

According to the greatest happinessprinciple, as above explained, theultimate end, with reference to and forthe sake of which all other things aredesirablewhether we are consideringour own good or that of other peopleisan existence exempt as far as possiblefrom pain, and as rich as possible inenjoyments, both in point of quantity andquality; the test of quality and the rule ofmeasuring it against quantity being thepreference felt by those who, in their

opportunities of experience, to whichmust be added their habits of self-consciousness and self-observation, arebest furnished with the means ofcomparison. This, being according to theutilitarian opinion the end of humanaction, is necessarily also the standardof morality, which may accordingly bedefined the rules and precepts forhuman conduct, by the observance ofwhich an existence such as has beendescribed might be, to the greatest extentpossible, secured to all mankind; and notto them only, but, so far as the nature ofthings admits, to the whole sentientcreation.

Against this doctrine, however, arises

another class of objectors who say thathappiness, in any form, cannot be therational purpose of human life andaction; because, in the first place, it isunattainable; and they contemptuouslyask, What right hast thou to be happy?a question which Mr. Carlyle clinchesby the addition, What right, a short timeago, hadst thou even to be? Next theysay that men can do without happiness;that all noble human beings have feltthis, and could not have become noblebut by learning the lesson of Entsagen,or renunciation; which lesson,thoroughly learned and submitted to, theyaffirm to be the beginning and necessarycondition of all virtue.

The first of these objections would goto the root of the matter were it wellfounded; for if no happiness is to be hadat all by human beings, the attainment ofit cannot be the end of morality or of anyrational conduct. Though, even in thatcase, something might still be said forthe utilitarian theory, since utilityincludes not solely the pursuit ofhappiness, but the prevention ormitigation of unhappiness; and if theformer aim be chimerical, there will beall the greater scope and moreimperative need for the latter, so long atleast as mankind think fit to live and donot take refuge in the simultaneous act ofsuicide recommended under certain

conditions by Novalis. When, however,it is thus positively asserted to beimpossible that human life should behappy, the assertion, if not somethinglike a verbal quibble, is at least anexaggeration. If by happiness be meant acontinuity of highly pleasurableexcitement, it is evident enough that thisis impossible. A state of exaltedpleasure lasts only moments or in somecases, and with some intermissions,hours or days, and is the occasionalbrilliant flash of enjoyment, not itspermanent and steady flame. Of this thephilosophers who have taught thathappiness is the end of life were as fullyaware as those who taunt them. Thehappiness which they meant was not a

life of rapture, but moments of such, inan existence made up of few andtransitory pains, many and variouspleasures, with a decided predominanceof the active over the passive, andhaving as the foundation of the whole notto expect more from life than it iscapable of bestowing. A life thuscomposed, to those who have beenfortunate enough to obtain it, has alwaysappeared worthy of the name ofhappiness. And such an existence is evennow the lot of many during someconsiderable portion of their lives. Thepresent wretched education andwretched social arrangements are theonly real hindrance to its being

attainable by almost all.The objectors perhaps may doubt

whether human beings, if taught toconsider happiness as the end of life,would be satisfied with such a moderateshare of it. But great numbers of mankindhave been satisfied with much less. Themain constituents of a satisfied lifeappear to be two, either of which byitself is often found sufficient for thepurpose: tranquillity and excitement.With much tranquillity, many find thatthey can be content with very littlepleasure; with much excitement, manycan reconcile themselves to aconsiderable quantity of pain. There isassuredly no inherent impossibility of

enabling even the mass of mankind tounite both, since the two are so far frombeing incompatible that they are innatural alliance, the prolongation ofeither being a preparation for, andexciting a wish for, the other. It is onlythose in whom indolence amounts to avice that do not desire excitement afteran interval of repose; it is only those inwhom the need of excitement is adisease that feel the tranquillity whichfollows excitement dull and insipid,instead of pleasurable in directproportion to the excitement whichpreceded it. When people who aretolerably fortunate in their outward lotdo not find in life sufficient enjoyment tomake it valuable to them, the cause

generally is caring for nobody butthemselves. To those who have neitherpublic nor private affections, theexcitements of life are much curtailed,and in any case dwindle in value as thetime approaches when all selfishinterests must be terminated by death;while those who leave after them objectsof personal affection, and especiallythose who have also cultivated a fellow-feeling with the collective interests ofmankind, retain as lively an interest inlife on the eve of death as in the vigor ofyouth and health. Next to selfishness, theprincipal cause which makes lifeunsatisfactory is want of mentalcultivation. A cultivated mindI do not

mean that of a philosopher, but any mindto which the fountains of knowledgehave been opened, and which has beentaught, in any tolerable degree, toexercise its facultiesfinds sources ofinexhaustible interest in all thatsurrounds it: in the objects of nature, theachievements of art, the imaginations ofpoetry, the incidents of history, the waysof mankind, past and present, and theirprospects in the future. It is possible,indeed, to become indifferent to all this,and that too without having exhausted athousandth part of it, but only when onehas had from the beginning no moral orhuman interest in these things and hassought in them only the gratification ofcuriosity.

Now there is absolutely no reason inthe nature of things why an amount ofmental culture sufficient to give anintelligent interest in these objects ofcontemplation should not be theinheritance of everyone born in acivilized country. As little is there aninherent necessity that any human beingshould be a selfish egotist, devoid ofevery feeling or care but those whichcenter in his own miserableindividuality. Something far superior tothis is sufficiently common even now, togive ample earnest of what the humanspecies may be made. Genuine privateaffections and a sincere interest in thepublic good are possible, though in

unequal degrees, to every rightly broughtup human being. In a world in whichthere is so much to interest, so much toenjoy, and so much also to correct andimprove, everyone who has thismoderate amount of moral andintellectual requisites is capable of anexistence which may be called enviable;and unless such a person, through badlaws or subjection to the will of others,is denied the liberty to use the sources ofhappiness within his reach, he will notfail to find this enviable existence, if heescapes the positive evils of life, thegreat sources of physical and mentalsufferingsuch as indigence, disease,and the unkindness, worthlessness, orpremature loss of objects of affection.

The main stress of the problem lies,therefore, in the contest with thesecalamities from which it is a rare goodfortune entirely to escape; which, asthings now are, cannot be obviated, andoften cannot be in any material degreemitigated. Yet no one whose opiniondeserves a moments consideration candoubt that most of the great positiveevils of the world are in themselvesremovable, and will, if human affairscontinue to improve, be in the endreduced within narrow limits. Poverty,in any sense implying suffering, may becompletely extinguished by the wisdomof society combined with the good senseand providence of individuals. Even that

most intractable of enemies, disease,may be indefinitely reduced indimensions by good physical and moraleducation and proper control of noxiousinfluences, while the progress of scienceholds out a promise for the future of stillmore direct conquests over thisdetestable foe. And every advance inthat direction relieves us from some, notonly of the chances which cut short ourown lives, but, what concerns us stillmore, which deprive us of those inwhom our happiness is wrapt up. As forvicissitudes of fortune and otherdisappointments connected with worldlycircumstances, these are principally theeffect either of gross imprudence, of ill-regulated desires, or of bad or imperfect

social institutions. All the grand sources,in short, of human suffering are in a greatdegree, many of them almost entirely,conquerable by human care and effort;and though their removal is grievouslyslowthough a long succession ofgenerations will perish in the breachbefore the conquest is completed, andthis world becomes all that, if will andknowledge were not wanting, it mighteasily be madeyet every mindsufficiently intelligent and generous tobear a part, however small andinconspicuous, in the endeavor willdraw a noble enjoyment from the contestitself, which he would not for any bribein the form of selfish indulgence consent

to be without.And this leads to the true estimation of

what is said by the objectors concerningthe possibility and the obligation oflearning to do without happiness.Unquestionably it is possible to dowithout happiness; it is doneinvoluntarily by nineteen-twentieths ofmankind, even in those parts of ourpresent world which are least deep inbarbarism; and it often has to be donevoluntarily by the hero or the martyr, forthe sake of something which he prizesmore than his individual happiness. Butthis something, what is it, unless thehappiness of others or some of therequisites of happiness? It is noble to be

capable of resigning entirely ones ownportion of happiness, or chances of it;but, after all, this self-sacrifice must befor some end; it is not its own end; and ifwe are told that its end is not happinessbut virtue, which is better thanhappiness, I ask, would the sacrifice bemade if the hero or martyr did notbelieve that it would earn for othersimmunity from similar sacrifices?Would it be made if he thought that hisrenunciation of happiness for himselfwould produce no fruit for any of hisfellow creatures, but to make their lotlike his and place them also in thecondition of persons who haverenounced happiness? All honor to thosewho can abnegate for themselves the

personal enjoyment of life when by suchrenunciation they contribute worthily toincrease the amount of happiness in theworld; but he who does it or professesto do it for any other purpose is no moredeserving of admiration than the asceticmounted on his pillar. He may be aninspiring proof of what men can do, butassuredly not an example of what theyshould.

Though it is only in a very imperfectstate of the worlds arrangements thatanyone can best serve the happiness ofothers by the absolute sacrifice of hisown, yet, so long as the world is in thatimperfect state, I fully acknowledge thatthe readiness to make such a sacrifice is

the highest virtue which can be found inman. I will add that in this condition ofthe world, paradoxical as the assertionmay be, the conscious ability to dowithout happiness gives the bestprospect of realizing such happiness asis attainable. For nothing except thatconsciousness can raise a person abovethe chances of life by making him feelthat, let fate and fortune do their worst,they have not power to subdue him;which, once felt, frees him from excessof anxiety concerning the evils of lifeand enables him, like many a Stoic in theworst times of the Roman Empire, tocultivate in tranquillity the sources ofsatisfaction accessible to him, withoutconcerning himself about the uncertainty

of their duration any more than abouttheir inevitable end.

Meanwhile, let utilitarians nevercease to claim the morality of self-devotion as a possession which belongsby as good a right to them as either to theStoic or to the Transcendentalist. Theutilitarian morality does recognize inhuman beings the power of sacrificingtheir own greatest good for the good ofothers. It only refuses to admit that thesacrifice is itself a good. A sacrificewhich does not increase or tend toincrease the sum total of happiness, itconsiders as wasted. The only self-renunciation which it applauds isdevotion to the happiness, or to some of

the means of happiness, of others, eitherof mankind collectively or of individualswithin the limits imposed by thecollective interests of mankind.

I must again repeat what the assailantsof utilitarianism seldom have the justiceto acknowledge, that the happinesswhich forms the utilitarian standard ofwhat is right in conduct is not the agentsown happiness but that of all concerned.As between his own happiness and thatof others, utilitarianism requires him tobe as strictly impartial as a disinterestedand benevolent spectator. In the goldenrule of Jesus of Nazareth, we read thecomplete spirit of the ethics of utility.To do as you would be done by, and

to love your neighbor as yourself,constitute the ideal perfection ofutilitarian morality. As the means ofmaking the nearest approach to thisideal, utility would enjoin, first, thatlaws and social arrangements shouldplace the happiness or (as, speakingpractically, it may be called) the interestof every individual as nearly as possiblein harmony with the interest of thewhole; and, secondly, that education andopinion, which have so vast a powerover human character, should so use thatpower as to establish in the mind ofevery individual an indissolubleassociation between his own happinessand the good of the whole, especiallybetween his own happiness and the

practice of such modes of conduct,negative and positive, as regard for theuniversal happiness prescribes; so thatnot only he may be unable to conceivethe possibility of happiness to himself,consistently with conduct opposed to thegeneral good, but also that a directimpulse to promote the general goodmay be in every individual one of thehabitual motives of action, and thesentiments connected therewith may filla large and prominent place in everyhuman beings sentient existence. If theimpugners of the utilitarian moralityrepresented it to their own minds in thisits true character, I know not whatrecommendation possessed by any other

morality they could possibly affirm to bewanting to it; what more beautiful ormore exalted developments of humannature any other ethical system can besupposed to foster, or what springs ofaction, not accessible to the utilitarian,such systems rely on for giving effect totheir mandates.

The objectors to utilitarianism cannotalways be charged with representing itin a discreditable light. On the contrary,those among them who entertain anythinglike a just idea of its disinterestedcharacter sometimes find fault with itsstandard as being too high for humanity.They say it is exacting too much torequire that people shall always act from

the inducement of promoting the generalinterests of society. But this is to mistakethe very meaning of a standard of moralsand confound the rule of action with themotive of it. It is the business of ethics totell us what are our duties, or by whattest we may know them; but no system ofethics requires that the sole motive of allwe do shall be a feeling of duty; on thecontrary, ninety-nine hundredths of allour actions are done from other motives,and rightly so done if the rule of dutydoes not condemn them. It is the moreunjust to utilitarianism that thisparticular misapprehension should bemade a ground of objection to it,inasmuch as utilitarian moralists havegone beyond almost all others in

affirming that the motive has nothing todo with the morality of the action, thoughmuch with the worth of the agent. Hewho saves a fellow creature fromdrowning does what is morally right,whether his motive be duty or the hopeof being paid for his trouble; he whobetrays the friend that trusts him is guiltyof a crime, even if his object be to serveanother friend to whom he is undergreater obligations.2 But to speak only ofactions done from the motive of duty,and in direct obedience to principle: it isa misapprehension of the utilitarianmode of thought to conceive it asimplying that people should fix theirminds upon so wide a generality as the

world, or society at large. The greatmajority of good actions are intended notfor the benefit of the world, but for thatof individuals, of which the good of theworld is made up; and the thoughts of themost virtuous man need not on theseoccasions travel beyond the particularpersons concerned, except so far as isnecessary to assure himself that inbenefiting them he is not violating therights, that is, the legitimate andauthorized expectations, of anyone else.The multiplication of happiness is,according to the utilitarian ethics, theobject of virtue: the occasions on whichany person (except one in a thousand)has it in his power to do this on anextended scale in other words, to be a

public benefactorare but exceptional;and on these occasions alone is hecalled on to consider public utility; inevery other case, private utility, theinterest or happiness of some fewpersons, is all he has to attend to. Thosealone the influence of whose actionsextends to society in general needconcern themselves habitually about solarge an object. In the case ofabstinences indeedof things whichpeople forbear to do from moralconsiderations, though the consequencesin the particular case might be beneficialit would be unworthy of an intelligentagent not to be consciously aware thatthe action is of a class which, if

practiced generally, would be generallyinjurious, and that this is the ground ofthe obligation to abstain from it. Theamount of regard for the public interestimplied in this recognition is no greaterthan is demanded by every system ofmorals, for they all enjoin to abstainfrom whatever is manifestly perniciousto society.

The same considerations dispose ofanother reproach against the doctrine ofutility, founded on a still grossermisconception of the purpose of astandard of morality and of the verymeaning of the words right andwrong. It is often affirmed thatutilitarianism renders men cold and

unsympathizing; that it chills their moralfeelings toward individuals; that itmakes them regard only the dry and hardconsideration of the consequences ofactions, not taking into their moralestimate the qualities from which thoseactions emanate. If the assertion meansthat they do not allow their judgmentrespecting the rightness or wrongness ofan action to be influenced by theiropinion of the qualities of the personwho does it, this is a complaint notagainst utilitarianism, but against anystandard or morality at all; for certainlyno known ethical standard decides anaction to be good or bad because it isdone by a good or bad man, still lessbecause done by an amiable, a brave, or

a benevolent man, or the contrary. Theseconsiderations are relevant, not to theestimation of actions, but of persons; andthere is nothing in the utilitarian theoryinconsistent with the fact that there areother things which interest us in personsbesides the rightness and wrongness oftheir actions. The Stoics, indeed, withthe paradoxical misuse of languagewhich was part of their system, and bywhich they strove to raise themselvesabove all concern about anything butvirtue, were fond of saying that he whohas that has everything; that he, and onlyhe, is rich, is beautiful, is a king. But noclaim of this description is made for thevirtuous man by the utilitarian doctrine.

Utilitarians are quite aware that thereare other desirable possessions andqualities besides virtue, and areperfectly willing to allow to all of themtheir full worth. They are also aware thata right action does not necessarilyindicate a virtuous character, and thatactions which are blamable oftenproceed from qualities entitled to praise.When this is apparent in any particularcase, it modifies their estimation, notcertainly of the act, but of the agent. Igrant that they are, notwithstanding, ofopinion that in the long run the best proofof a good character is good actions; andresolutely refuse to consider any mentaldisposition as good of which thepredominant tendency is to produce bad

conduct. This makes them unpopularwith many people, but it is anunpopularity which they must share witheveryone who regards the distinctionbetween right and wrong in a seriouslight; and the reproach is not one whicha conscientious utilitarian need beanxious to repel.

If no more be meant by the objectionthan that many utilitarians look on themorality of actions, as measured by theutilitarian standards, with too exclusivea regard, and do not lay sufficient stressupon the other beauties of characterwhich go toward making a human beinglovable or admirable, this may beadmitted. Utilitarians who have

cultivated their moral feelings, but nottheir sympathies, nor their artisticperceptions, do fall into this mistake;and so do all other moralists under thesame conditions. What can be said inexcuse for other moralists is equallyavailable for them, namely, that, if thereis to be any error, it is better that itshould be on that side. As a matter offact, we may affirm that amongutilitarians, as among adherents of othersystems, there is every imaginabledegree of rigidity and of laxity in theapplication of their standard; some areeven puritanically rigorous, while othersare as indulgent as can possibly bedesired by sinner or by sentimentalist.But on the whole, a doctrine which

brings prominently forward the interestthat mankind have in the repression andprevention of conduct which violates themoral law is likely to be inferior to noother in turning the sanctions of opinionagainst such violations. It is true, thequestion What does violate the morallaw? is one on which those whorecognize different standards of moralityare likely now and then to differ. Butdifference of opinion on moral questionswas not first introduced into the worldby utilitarianism, while that doctrinedoes supply, if not always an easy, at allevents a tangible and intelligible, modeof deciding such differences.

It may not be superfluous to notice a

few more of the commonmisapprehensions of utilitarian ethics,even those which are so obvious andgross that it might appear impossible forany person of candor and intelligence tofall into them; since persons, even ofconsiderable mental endowment, oftengive themselves so little trouble tounderstand the bearings of any opinionagainst which they entertain a prejudice,and men are in general so littleconscious of this voluntary ignorance asa defect that the vulgarestmisunderstandings of ethical doctrinesare continually met with in the deliberatewritings of persons of the greatestpretensions both to high principle and tophilosophy. We not uncommonly hear

the doctrine of utility inveighed against agodless doctrine. If it be necessary tosay anything at all against so mere anassumption, we may say that the questiondepends upon what idea we have formedof the moral character of the Deity. If itbe a true belief that God desires, aboveall things, the happiness of his creatures,and that this was his purpose in theircreation, utility is not only not a godlessdoctrine, but more profoundly religiousthan any other. If it be meant thatutilitarianism does not recognize therevealed will of God as the supreme lawof morals, I answer that a utilitarian whobelieves in the perfect goodness andwisdom of God necessarily believes that

whatever God has thought fit to revealon the subject of morals must fulfill therequirements of utility in a supremedegree. But others besides utilitarianshave been of opinion that the Christianrevelation was intended, and is fitted, toinform the hearts and minds of mankindwith a spirit which should enable themto find for themselves what is right, andincline them to do it when found, ratherthan to tell them, except in a very generalway, what it is; and that we need adoctrine of ethics, carefully followedout, to interpret to us the will of God.Whether this opinion is correct or not, itis superfluous here to discuss; sincewhatever aid religion, either natural orrevealed, can afford to ethical

investigation is as open to the utilitarianmoralist as to any other. He can use it asthe testimony of God to the usefulness orhurtfulness of any given course of actionby as good a right as others can use it forthe indication of a transcendental lawhaving no connection with usefulness orwith happiness.

Again, utility is often summarilystigmatized as an immoral doctrine bygiving it the name of expediency, andtaking advantage of the popular use ofthat term to contrast it with principle.But the expedient, in the sense in whichit is opposed to the right, generallymeans that which is expedient for theparticular interest of the agent himself;

as when a minister sacrifices theinterests of his country to keep himself inplace. When it means anything betterthan this, it means that which isexpedient for some immediate object,some temporary purpose, but whichviolates a rule whose observance isexpedient in a much higher degree. Theexpedient, in this sense, instead of beingthe same thing with the useful, is abranch of the hurtful. Thus it would oftenbe expedient, for the purpose of gettingover some momentary embarrassment, orattaining some object immediately usefulto ourselves or others, to tell a lie. Butinasmuch as the cultivation in ourselvesof a sensitive feeling on the subject ofveracity is one of the most useful, and

the enfeeblement of that feeling one ofthe most hurtful, things to which ourconduct can be instrumental; andinasmuch as any, even unintentional,deviation from truth does that muchtoward weakening the trustworthiness ofhuman assertion, which is not only theprincipal support of all present socialwell-being, but the insufficiency ofwhich does more than any one thing thatcan be named to keep back civilization,virtue, everything on which humanhappiness on the largest scale dependswe feel that the violation, for apresent advantage, of a rule of suchtranscendent expediency is notexpedient, and that he who, for the sake

of convenience to himself or to someother individual, does what depends onhim to deprive mankind of the good, andinflict upon them the evil, involved inthe greater or less reliance which theycan place in each others word, acts thepart of one of their worst enemies. Yetthat even this rule, sacred as it is, admitsof possible exceptions is acknowledgedby all moralists; the chief of which iswhen the withholding of some fact (as ofinformation from a malefactor, or of badnews from a person dangerously ill)would save an individual (especially anindividual other than oneself) from greatand unmerited evil, and when thewithholding can only be effected bydenial. But in order that the exception

may not extend itself beyond the need,and may have the least possible effect inweakening reliance on veracity, it oughtto be recognized and, if possible, itslimits defined; and, if the principle ofutility is good for anything, it must begood for weighing these conflictingutilities against one another and markingout the region within which one or theother preponderates.

Again, defenders of utility often findthemselves called upon to reply to suchobjections as thisthat there is not time,previous to action, for calculating andweighing the effects of any line ofconduct on the general happiness. This isexactly as if anyone were to say that it is

impossible to guide our conduct byChristianity because there is not time, onevery occasion on which anything has tobe done, to read through the Old andNew Testaments. The answer to theobjection is that there has been ampletime, namely, the whole past duration ofthe human species. During all that timemankind have been learning byexperience the tendencies of actions; onwhich experience all the prudence aswell as all the morality of life aredependent. People talk as if thecommencement of this course ofexperience had hitherto been put off, andas if, at the moment when some manfeels tempted to meddle with theproperty or life of another, he had to

begin considering for the first timewhether murder and theft are injurious tohuman happiness. Even then I do notthink that he would find the questionvery puzzling; but, at all events, thematter is now done to his hand. It is trulya whimsical supposition that, if mankindwere agreed in considering utility to bethe test of morality, they would remainwithout any agreement as to what isuseful, and would take no measures forhaving their notions on the subject taughtto the young and enforced by law andopinion. There is no difficulty in provingany ethical standard whatever to workill if we suppose universal idiocy to beconjoined with it; but on any hypothesis

short of that, mankind must by this timehave acquired positive beliefs as to theeffects of some actions on theirhappiness; and the beliefs which havethus come down are the rules of moralityfor the multitude, and for the philosopheruntil he has succeeded in finding better.That philosophers might easily do this,even now, on many subjects; that thereceived code of ethics is by no meansof divine right; and that mankind havestill much to learn as to the effects ofactions on the general happiness, I admitor rather earnestly maintain. Thecorollaries from the principle of utility,like the precepts of every practical art,admit of indefinite improvement, and, ina progressive state of the human mind,

their improvement is perpetually goingon. But to consider the rules of moralityas improvable is one thing; to pass overthe intermediate generalization entirelyand endeavor to test each individualaction directly by the first principle isanother.

It is a strange notion that theacknowledgment of a first principle isinconsistent with the admission ofsecondary ones. To inform a travelerrespecting the place of his ultimatedestination is not to forbid the use oflandmarks and direction-posts on theway. The proposition that happiness isthe end and aim of morality does notmean that no road ought to be laid down

to that goal, or that persons going thithershould not be advised to take onedirection rather than another. Men reallyought to leave off talking a kind ofnonsense on this subject, which theywould neither talk nor listen to on othermatters of practical concernment.Nobody argues that the art of navigationis not founded on astronomy becausesailors cannot wait to calculate theNautical Almanac. Being rationalcreatures, they go to sea with it readycalculated; and all rational creatures goout upon the sea of life with their mindsmade up on the common questions ofright and wrong, as well as on many ofthe far more difficult questions of wiseand foolish. And this, as long as

foresight is a human quality, it is to bepresumed they will continue to do.Whatever we adopt as the fundamentalprinciple of morality, we requiresubordinate principles to apply it by; theimpossibility of doing without them,being common to all systems, can affordno argument against any one inparticular; but gravely to argue as if nosuch secondary principles could be had,and as if mankind had remained till now,and always must remain, withoutdrawing any general conclusions fromthe experience of human life is as high apitch, I think, as absurdity has everreached in philosophical controversy.

The remainder of the stock arguments

against utilitarianism mostly consist inlaying to its charge the commoninfirmities of human nature, and thegeneral difficulties which embarrassconscientious persons in shaping theircourse through life. We are told that autilitarian will be apt to make his ownparticular case an exception to moralrules, and, when under temptation, willsee a utility in the breach of a rule,greater than he will see in itsobservance. But is utility the only creedwhich is able to furnish us with excusesfor evil-doing and means of cheating ourown conscience? They are afforded inabundance by all doctrines whichrecognize as a fact in morals theexistence of conflicting considerations,

which all doctrines do that have beenbelieved by sane persons. It is not thefault of any creed, but of the complicatednature of human affairs, that rules ofconduct cannot be so framed as torequire no exceptions, and that hardlyany kind of action can safely be laiddown as either always obligatory oralways condemnable. There is no ethicalcreed which does not temper the rigidityof its laws by giving a certain latitude,under the moral responsibility of theagent, for accommodation topeculiarities of circumstances; and underevery creed, at the opening thus made,self-deception and dishonest casuistryget in. There exists no moral system

under which there do not ariseunequivocal cases of conflictingobligation. These are the realdifficulties, the knotty points both in thetheory of ethics and in the conscientiousguidance of personal conduct. They areovercome practically, with greater orwith less success, according to theintellect and virtue of the individual; butit can hardly be pretended that anyonewill be the less qualified for dealingwith them, from possessing an ultimatestandard to which conflicting rights andduties can be referred. If utility is theultimate source of moral obligations,utility may be invoked to decidebetween them when their demands areincompatible. Though the application of

the standard may be difficult, it is betterthan none at all; while in other systems,the moral laws all claiming independentauthority, there is no common umpireentitled to interfere between them; theirclaims to precedence one over anotherrest on little better than sophistry, and,unless determined, as they generally are,by the unacknowledged influence ofconsideration of utility, afford a freescope for the action of personal desiresand partialities. We must remember thatonly in these cases of conflict betweensecondary principles is it requisite thatfirst principles should be appealed to.There is no case of moral obligation inwhich some secondary principle is not

involved; and if only one, there canseldom be any real doubt which one itis, in the mind of any person by whomthe principle itself is recognized.1. The author of this essay has reason for believinghimself to be the first person who brought the wordutilitarian into use. He did not invent it, but adopted itfrom a passing expression in Mr. Galts Annals of theParish. After using it as a designation for severalyears, he and others abandoned it from a growingdislike to anything resembling a badge or watchword ofsectarian distinction. But as a name for one singleopinion, not a set of opinionsto denote therecognition of utility as a standard, not any particularway of applying itthe term supplies a want in thelanguage, and offers, in many cases, a convenientmode of avoiding tiresome circumlocutions.2. An opponent, whose intellectual and moral fairnessit is a pleasure to acknowledge (the Rev. J. LlewellynDavies), has objected to this passage, saying, Surelythe rightness or wrongness of saving a man fromdrowning does depend very much upon the motive with

which it is done. Suppose that a tyrant, when hisenemy jumped into the sea to escape from him, savedhim from drowning simply in order that he might inflictupon him more exquisite tortures, would it tend toclearness to speak of that rescue as a morally rightaction? Or suppose again, according to one of thestock illustrations of ethical inquiries, that a manbetrayed a trust received from a friend, because thedischarge of it would fatally injure that friend himselfor someone belonging to him, would utilitarianismcompel one to call the betrayal a crime as much as ifit had been done from the meanest motive?I submit that he who saves another from drowning inorder to kill him by torture afterwards does not differonly in motive from him who does the same thing fromduty or benevolence; the act itself is different. Therescue of the man is, in the case supposed, only thenecessary first step of an act far more atrocious thanleaving him to drown would have been. Had Mr.Davies said, The rightness or wrongness of saving aman from drowning does depend very muchnotupon the motive, butupon the intention, noutilitarian would have differed from him. Mr. Davies,

by an oversight too common not to be quite venial, hasin this case confounded the very different ideas ofMotive and Intention. There is no point which utilitarianthinkers (and Bentham preeminently) have taken morepains to illustrate than this. The morality of the actiondepends entirely upon the intentionthat is, upon whatthe agent wills to do. But the motive, that is, thefeeling which makes him will so to do, if it makes nodifference in the act, makes none in the morality:though it makes a great difference in our moralestimation of the agent, especially if it indicates a goodor a bad habitual dispositiona bent of characterfrom which useful, or from which hurtful actions arelikely to arise. [This footnote appeared only in thesecond edition of Utilitarianism.]

CHAPTER III

OF THE ULTIMATESANCTION

OF THE PRINCIPLE OFUTILITY

The question is often asked, andproperly so, in regard to any supposedmoral standardWhat is its sanction?what are the motives to obey? or, morespecifically, what is the source of itsobligation? whence does it derive itsbinding force? It is a necessary part ofmoral philosophy to provide the answer

to this question, which, though frequentlyassuming the shape of an objection to theutilitarian morality, as if it had somespecial applicability to that aboveothers, really arises in regard to allstandards. It arises, in fact, whenever aperson is called on to adopt a standard,or refer morality to any basis on whichhe has not been accustomed to rest it.For the customary morality, that whicheducation and opinion have consecrated,is the only one which presents itself tothe mind with the feeling of being initself obligatory; and when a person isasked to believe that this moralityderives its obligation from some generalprinciple round which custom has notthrown the same halo, the assertion is to

him a paradox; the supposed corollariesseem to have a more binding force thanthe original theorem; the superstructureseems to stand better without than withwhat is represented as its foundation. Hesays to himself, I feel that I am bound notto rob or murder, betray or deceive; butwhy am I bound to promote the generalhappiness? If my own happiness lies insomething else, why may I not give thatthe preference?

If the view adopted by the utilitarianphilosophy of the nature of the moralsense be correct, this difficulty willalways present itself until the influenceswhich form moral character have takenthe same hold of the principle which

they have taken of some of theconsequencesuntil, by theimprovement of education, the feeling ofunity with our fellow creatures shall be(what it cannot be denied that Christintended it to be) as deeply rooted in ourcharacter, and to our own consciousnessas completely a part of our nature, as thehorror of crime is in an ordinarily well-brought up young person. In themeantime, however, the difficulty has nopeculiar application to the doctrine ofutility, but is inherent in every attempt toanalyze morality and reduce it toprinciples; which, unless the principle isalready in mens minds invested with asmuch sacredness as any of itsapplications, always seems to divest

them of a part of their sanctity.The principle of utility either has, or

there is no reason why it might not have,all the sanctions which belong to anyother system of morals. Those sanctionsare either external or internal. Of theexternal sanctions it is not necessary tospeak at any length. They are the hope offavor and the fear of displeasure fromour fellow creatures or from the Ruler ofthe universe, along with whatever wemay have of sympathy or affection forthem, or of love and awe of Him,inclining us to do His will independentlyof selfish consequences. There isevidently no reason why all thesemotives for observance should not attach

themselves to the utilitarian morality ascompletely and as powerfully as to anyother. Indeed, those of them which referto our fellow creatures are sure to do so,in proportion to the amount of generalintelligence; for whether there be anyother ground of moral obligation than thegeneral happiness or not, men do desirehappiness; and however imperfect maybe their own practice, they desire andcommend all conduct in others towardthemselves by which they think theirhappiness is promoted. With regard tothe religious motive, if men believe, asmost profess to do, in the goodness ofGod, those who think that conducivenessto the general happiness is the essenceor even only the criterion of good must

necessarily believe that it is also thatwhich God approves. The whole forcetherefore of external rew