Principia Ethica 22

Principia Ethica 22

55.= The decision, then, must rest upon Prof. Sidgwick’s first

argument--‘the appeal’ to our ‘intuitive judgment after due

consideration of the question when fairly placed before it.’ And here

it seems to me plain that Prof. Sidgwick has failed, in two essential

respects, to place the question fairly before either himself or his

reader.

 

(1) What he has to shew is, as he says himself, not merely that

‘Happiness must be included as a part of Ultimate Good.’ This view,

he says, ‘ought not to commend itself to the sober judgment of

reflective persons.’ And why? Because ‘these objective relations,

when distinguished from the consciousness accompanying and resulting

from them, are not ultimately and intrinsically desirable.’ Now, this

reason, which is offered as shewing that to consider Happiness as

a mere part of Ultimate Good does not meet the facts of intuition,

is, on the contrary, only sufficient to shew that it _is_ a part of

Ultimate Good. For from the fact that no value resides in one part

of a whole, considered by itself, we cannot infer that all the value

belonging to the whole does reside in the other part, considered by

itself. Even if we admit that there is much value in the enjoyment of

Beauty, and none in the mere contemplation of it, which is one of the

constituents of that complex fact, it does not follow that all the

value belongs to the other constituent, namely, the pleasure which we

take in contemplating it. It is quite possible that this constituent

also has no value in itself; that the value belongs to the whole state,

and to that only: so that _both_ the pleasure _and_ the contemplation

are mere parts of the good, and both of them equally necessary parts.

In short, Prof. Sidgwick’s argument here depends upon the neglect of

that principle, which I tried to explain in my first chapter and which

I said I should call the principle of ‘organic relations[19].’ The

argument is calculated to mislead, because it supposes that, if we see

a whole state to be valuable, and also see that one element of that

state has no value _by itself_, then the other element, _by itself_,

must have all the value which belongs to the whole state. The fact

is, on the contrary, that, since the whole may be organic, the other

element need have no value whatever, and that even if it have some, the

value of the whole may be very much greater. For this reason, as well

as to avoid confusion between means and end, it is absolutely essential

to consider each distinguishable quality, _in isolation_, in order to

decide what value it possesses. Prof. Sidgwick, on the other hand,

applies this method of isolation only to _one_ element in the wholes

he is considering. He does not ask the question: If consciousness

of pleasure existed absolutely by itself, would a sober judgment be

able to attribute much value to it? It is, in fact, always misleading

to take a whole, that is valuable (or the reverse), and then to ask

simply: To which of its constituents does this whole owe its value or

its vileness? It may well be that it owes it to _none_; and, if one of

them does appear to have some value in itself, we shall be led into the

grave error of supposing that all the value of the whole belongs to it

alone. It seems to me that this error has commonly been committed with

regard to pleasure. Pleasure does seem to be a necessary constituent

of most valuable wholes; and, since the other constituents, into which

we may analyse them, may easily seem not to have any value, it is

natural to suppose that all the value belongs to pleasure. That this

natural supposition does not follow from the premises is certain; and

that it is, on the contrary, ridiculously far from the truth appears

evident to my ‘reflective judgment.’ If we apply either to pleasure or

to consciousness of pleasure the only safe method, that of isolation,

and ask ourselves: Could we accept, as a very good thing, that mere

consciousness of pleasure, and absolutely nothing else, should exist,

even in the greatest quantities? I think we can have no doubt about

answering: No. Far less can we accept this as the _sole_ good. Even

if we accept Prof. Sidgwick’s implication (which yet appears to me

extremely doubtful) that consciousness of pleasure has a greater

value by itself than Contemplation of Beauty, it seems to me that a

pleasurable Contemplation of Beauty has certainly an immeasurably

greater value than mere Consciousness of Pleasure. In favour of this

conclusion I can appeal with confidence to the ‘sober judgment of

reflective persons.’

 

[19] pp. 27-30, 36.

 

 

=56.= (2) That the value of a pleasurable whole does not belong solely

to the pleasure which it contains, may, I think, be made still plainer

by consideration of another point in which Prof. Sidgwick’s argument

is defective. Prof. Sidgwick maintains, as we saw, the doubtful

proposition, that the _conduciveness_ to pleasure of a thing is in

rough proportion to its commendation by Common Sense. But he does

not maintain, what would be undoubtedly false, that the pleasantness

of every state is in proportion to the commendation of that state.

In other words, it is only when you take into account _the whole

consequences of any state_, that he is able to maintain the coincidence

of quantity of pleasure with the objects approved by Common Sense.

If we consider each state by itself, and ask what is the judgment of

Common Sense as to its goodness _as an end_, quite apart from its

goodness as a means, there can be no doubt that Common Sense holds many

much less pleasant states to be better than many far more pleasant:

that it holds, with Mill, that there are higher pleasures, which are

more valuable, though less pleasant, than those which are lower. Prof.

Sidgwick might, of course, maintain that in this Common Sense is merely

confusing means and ends: that what it holds to be better as an end,

is in reality only better as a means. But I think his argument is

defective in that he does not seem to see sufficiently plainly that,

as far as intuitions of goodness _as an end_ are concerned, he is

running grossly counter to Common Sense; that he does not emphasise

sufficiently the distinction between _immediate_ pleasantness and

_conduciveness_ to pleasure. In order to place fairly before us

the question what is good as an end we must take states that are

immediately pleasant and ask if the more pleasant are always also the

better; and whether, if some that are less pleasant appear to be so, it

is only because we think they are likely to increase the number of the

more pleasant. That Common Sense would deny both these suppositions,

and rightly so, appears to me indubitable. It is commonly held that

certain of what would be called the lowest forms of sexual enjoyment,

for instance, are positively bad, although it is by no means clear that

they are not the most pleasant states we ever experience. Common Sense

would certainly not think it a sufficient justification for the pursuit

of what Prof. Sidgwick calls the ‘refined pleasures’ here and now, that

they are the best means to the future attainment of a heaven, in which

there would be no more refined pleasures--no contemplation of beauty,

no personal affections--but in which the greatest possible pleasure

would be obtained by a perpetual indulgence in bestiality. Yet Prof.

Sidgwick would be bound to hold that, if the greatest possible pleasure

could be obtained in this way, and if it were attainable, such a state

of things would be a heaven indeed, and that all human endeavours

should be devoted to its realisation. I venture to think that this view

is as false as it is paradoxical.

 

 

=57.= It seems to me, then, that if we place fairly before us the

question: Is consciousness of pleasure the sole good? the answer must

be: No. And with this the last defence of Hedonism has been broken

down. In order to put the question fairly we must isolate consciousness

of pleasure. We must ask: Suppose we were conscious of pleasure only,

and of nothing else, not even that we _were_ conscious, would that

state of things, however great the quantity, be very desirable? No one,

I think, can suppose it so. On the other hand, it seems quite plain,

that we do regard as very desirable, many complicated states of mind

in which the consciousness of pleasure is combined with consciousness

of other things--states which we call ‘enjoyment of’ so and so. If

this is correct, then it follows that consciousness of pleasure is not

the sole good, and that many other states, in which it is included

as a part, are much better than it. Once we recognise the principle

of organic unities, any objection to this conclusion, founded on the

supposed fact that the other elements of such states have no value in

themselves, must disappear. And I do not know that I need say any more

in refutation of Hedonism.

 

 

=58.= It only remains to say something of the two forms in which a

hedonistic doctrine is commonly held--Egoism and Utilitarianism.

 

Egoism, as a form of Hedonism, is the doctrine which holds that we

ought each of us to pursue our own greatest happiness as our ultimate

end. The doctrine will, of course, admit that sometimes the best means

to this end will be to give pleasure to others; we shall, for instance,

by so doing, procure for ourselves the pleasures of sympathy, of

freedom from interference, and of self-esteem; and these pleasures,

which we may procure by sometimes aiming directly at the happiness of

other persons, may be greater than any we could otherwise get. Egoism

in this sense must therefore be carefully distinguished from Egoism

in another sense, the sense in which Altruism is its proper opposite.

Egoism, as commonly opposed to Altruism, is apt to denote merely

selfishness. In this sense, a man is an egoist, if all his actions

are actually directed towards gaining pleasure for himself; whether

he holds that he ought to act so, because he will thereby obtain for

himself the greatest possible happiness on the whole, or not. Egoism

may accordingly be used to denote the theory that we should always aim

at getting pleasure for ourselves, because that is the best _means_

to the ultimate end, whether the ultimate end be our own greatest

pleasure or not. Altruism, on the other hand, may denote the theory

that we ought always to aim at other people’s happiness, on the ground

that this is the best _means_ of securing our own as well as theirs.

Accordingly an Egoist, in the sense in which I am now going to talk of

Egoism, an Egoist, who holds that his own greatest happiness is the

ultimate end, may at the same time be an Altruist: he may hold that

he ought to ‘love his neighbour,’ as the best means to being happy

himself. And conversely an Egoist, in the other sense, may at the same

time be a Utilitarian. He may hold that he ought always to direct his

efforts towards getting pleasure for himself on the ground that he is

thereby most likely to increase the general sum of happiness.

 

 

=59.= I shall say more later about this second kind of Egoism, this

anti-altruistic Egoism, this Egoism as a doctrine of means. What I am

now concerned with is that utterly distinct kind of Egoism, which holds

that each man ought rationally to hold: My own greatest happiness is

the only good thing there is; my actions can only be good as means, in

so far as they help to win me this. This is a doctrine which is not

much held by writers now-a-days. It is a doctrine that was largely

held by English Hedonists in the 17th and 18th centuries: it is, for

example, at the bottom of Hobbes’ Ethics. But even the English school