Principia Ethica 31

Principia Ethica 31

can never really have been so. For the term duty is certainly so used

that, if we are subsequently persuaded that any possible action would

have produced more good than the one we adopted, we admit that we

failed to do our duty. It will, however, be a useful task if Ethics can

determine which among alternatives _likely to occur_ will produce the

greatest total value. For, though this alternative cannot be proved to

be the best possible, yet it may be better than any course of action

which we should otherwise adopt.

 

 

=92.= A difficulty in distinguishing this task, which Ethics may

perhaps undertake with some hope of success, from the hopeless task

of finding duties, arises from an ambiguity in the use of the term

‘possible.’ An action may, in one perfectly legitimate sense, be said

to be ‘impossible’ solely because the idea of doing it does not occur

to us. In this sense, then, the alternatives which do actually occur

to a man would be the only _possible_ alternatives; and the best of

these would be the best possible action under the circumstances, and

hence would conform to our definition of ‘duty.’ But when we talk of

the best _possible_ action as our duty, we mean by the term any action

which no _other_ known circumstance would prevent, _provided_ the idea

of it occurred to us. And this use of the term is in accordance with

popular usage. For we admit that a man may fail to do his duty, through

neglecting to think of what he _might_ have done. Since, therefore,

we say that he _might_ have done, what nevertheless did not occur to

him, it is plain that we do not limit his _possible_ actions to those

of which he thinks. It might be urged, with more plausibility, that we

mean by a man’s duty only the best of those actions of which he _might_

have thought. And it is true that we do not blame any man very severely

for omitting an action of which, as we say, ‘he could not be expected

to think.’ But even here it is plain that we recognise a distinction

between what he might have done and what he might have thought of

doing: we regard it as a pity that he did not do otherwise. And ‘duty’

is certainly used in such a sense, that it would be a contradiction in

terms to say it was a pity that a man did his duty.

 

We must, therefore, distinguish a possible action from an action of

which it is possible to think. By the former we mean an action which

no known cause would prevent, _provided_ the idea of it occurred to

us: and that one among such actions, which will produce the greatest

total good, is what we mean by duty. Ethics certainly cannot hope to

discover what kind of action is always our duty in this sense. It may,

however, hope to decide which among one or two such possible actions is

the best: and those which it has chosen to consider are, as a matter of

fact, the most important of those with regard to which men deliberate

whether they shall or shall not do them. A decision with regard to

these may therefore be easily confounded with a decision with regard

to which is the best possible action. But it is to be noted that even

though we limit ourselves to considering which is the better among

alternatives likely to be thought of, the fact that these alternatives

might be thought of is not included is what we mean by calling them

possible alternatives. Even if in any particular case it was impossible

that the idea of them should have occurred to a man, the question we

are concerned with is, which, if it had occurred, would have been the

best alternative? If we say that murder is always a worse alternative,

we mean to assert that it is so, even where it was impossible for the

murderer to think of doing anything else.

 

The utmost, then, that Practical Ethics can hope to discover is which,

among a few alternatives possible under certain circumstances, will, on

the whole, produce the best result. It may tell us which is the best,

in this sense, of certain alternatives about which we are likely to

deliberate; and since we may also know that, even if we choose none of

these, what we shall, in that case, do is unlikely to be as good as one

of them, it may thus tell us which of the alternatives, among which

we _can_ choose, it is best to choose. If it could do this it would be

sufficient for practical guidance.

 

 

=93.= But (3) it is plain that even this is a task of immense

difficulty. It is difficult to see how we can establish even a

probability that by doing one thing we shall obtain a better total

result than by doing another. I shall merely endeavour to point out how

much is assumed, when we assume that there is such a probability, and

on what lines it seems possible that this assumption may be justified.

It will be apparent that it has never yet been justified--that no

sufficient reason has ever yet been found for considering one action

more right or more wrong than another.

 

(_a_) The first difficulty in the way of establishing a probability

that one course of action will give a better total result than another,

lies in the fact that we have to take account of the effects of both

throughout an infinite future. We have no certainty but that, if we

do one action now, the Universe will, throughout all time, differ in

some way from what it would have been, if we had done another; and,

if there is such a permanent difference, it is certainly relevant to

our calculation. But it is quite certain that our causal knowledge is

utterly insufficient to tell us what different effects will probably

result from two different actions, except within a comparatively short

space of time; we can certainly only pretend to calculate the effects

of actions within what may be called an ‘immediate’ future. No one,

when he proceeds upon what he considers a rational consideration of

effects, would guide his choice by any forecast that went beyond a few

centuries at most; and, in general, we consider that we have acted

rationally, if we think we have secured a balance of good within a few

years or months or days. Yet, if a choice guided by such considerations

is to be rational, we must certainly have some reason to believe that

no consequences of our action in a further future will generally be

such as to reverse the balance of good that is probable in the future

which we can foresee. This large postulate must be made, if we are

ever to assert that the results of one action will be even probably

better than those of another. Our utter ignorance of the far future

gives us no justification for saying that it is even probably right

to choose the greater good within the region over which a probable

forecast may extend. We do, then, assume that it is improbable that

effects, after a certain time, will, in general, be such as to reverse

the comparative value of the alternative results within that time. And

that this assumption is justified must be shewn before we can claim

to have given any reason whatever for acting in one way rather than

in another. It may, perhaps, be justified by some such considerations

as the following. As we proceed further and further from the time at

which alternative actions are open to us, the events of which either

action would be part cause become increasingly dependent on those

other circumstances, which are the same, whichever action we adopt.

The effects of any individual action seem, after a sufficient space of

time, to be found only in trifling modifications spread over a very

wide area, whereas its immediate effects consist in some prominent

modification of a comparatively narrow area. Since, however, most

of the things which have any great importance for good or evil are

things of this prominent kind, there may be a probability that after

a certain time all the effects of any particular action become so

nearly indifferent, that any difference between their value and that

of the effects of another action, is very unlikely to outweigh an

obvious difference in the value of the immediate effects. It does in

fact appear to be the case that, in most cases, whatever action we now

adopt, ‘it will be all the same a hundred years hence,’ so far as the

existence at that time of anything greatly good or bad is concerned:

and this might, perhaps, be _shewn_ to be true, by an investigation

of the manner in which the effects of any particular event become

neutralised by lapse of time. Failing such a proof, we can certainly

have no rational ground for asserting that one of two alternatives is

even probably right and another wrong. If any of our judgments of right

and wrong are to pretend to probability, we must have reason to think

that the effects of our actions in the far future will not have value

sufficient to outweigh any superiority of one set of effects over

another in the immediate future.

 

 

=94.= (_b_) We must assume, then, that if the effects of one action are

generally better than those of another, so far forward in the future as

we are able to foresee any probable difference in their effects at all,

then the total effect upon the Universe of the former action is also

generally better. We certainly cannot hope directly to compare their

effects except within a limited future; and all the arguments, which

have ever been used in Ethics, and upon which we commonly act in common

life, directed to shewing that one course is superior to another, are

(apart from theological dogmas) confined to pointing out such probable

immediate advantages. The question remains, then: Can we lay down any

general rules to the effect that one among a few alternative actions

will generally produce a greater total of good in the immediate future?

 

It is important to insist that this question, limited as it is, is the

utmost, to which, with any knowledge we have at present or are likely

to have for a long time to come, Practical Ethics can hope to give an

answer. I have already pointed out that we cannot hope to discover

which is the _best_ possible alternative in any given circumstances,

but only which, among a few, is better than the others. And I have also

pointed out that there is certainly no more than a probability, even

if we are entitled to assert so much, that what is better in regard to

its immediate effects will also be better on the whole. It now remains

to insist that, even with regard to these immediate effects, we can

only hope to discover which, among a few alternatives, will _generally_

produce the greatest balance of good in the immediate future. We can

secure no title to assert that obedience to such commands as ‘Thou

shalt not lie,’ or even ‘Thou shalt do no murder,’ is _universally_

better than the alternatives of lying and murder. Reasons why no more

than a _general_ knowledge is possible have been already given in Chap.

I. (§ 16); but they may be recapitulated here. In the first place,

of the effects, which principally concern us in ethical discussions,

as having intrinsic value, we know the causes so little, that we can

scarcely claim, with regard to any single one, to have obtained even

a _hypothetical_ universal law, such as has been obtained in the exact

sciences. We cannot even say: If this action is performed, under

exactly these circumstances, and if no others interfere, this important

effect, at least, will _always_ be produced. But, in the second

place, an ethical law is not merely hypothetical. If we are to know

that it will always be better to act in a certain way, under certain

circumstances, we must know not merely what effects such actions will

produce, _provided_ no other circumstances interfere, but also that no

other circumstances will interfere. And this it is obviously impossible

to know with more than probability. An ethical law has the nature not

of a scientific law but of a scientific _prediction_: and the latter is

always merely probable, although the probability may be very great. An