John Stuart Mill

(1806-1873)

The British empiricist philosopher and political and economic theorist, John Stuart Mill, is most famous for his exceedingly well-known moral theory of utilitarianism.  While not its inventor, most precisely, Mill’s revision, explication, defense, and subsequent popularization of utilitarianism makes his name its most recognizable father.

A child prodigy of sorts, Mill was learning Greek at age three, Latin at age eight (he later became fluent in French, as well), and, by fourteen, was better grounded in these foundations of Western civilization, plus history, logic, mathematics, and economics, than most adults today.  His father was the impetus behind his high education; James Mill was a Scottish philosopher who moved to London to promote the early utilitarian philosophy of Jeremy Bentham.  Bentham’s writings on law, replete with a humanism, an idea of human equality in terms of rights and well-being, greatly moved the young John Stuart Mill.  His later exposure to literature and poetry strengthened his beliefs in the critical role that social and cultural institutions play in positive human development.  This strong humanism led to Mill’s greatest innovation in utilitarianism—Bentham and his father had been working from a merely negative (critical) model of utility; he saw his own task as helping British society develop and progress in its time of change and transition into something positive and flourishing, and through an ethical logic of positive, general principles to determine the greatest good for the greatest number.  The principle of utility need not just be a means to critique the problems of society, but to promote the recognition of the good.  (It must be noted that Mill credits his long time dear friend and eventual wife, Harriet Taylor, with the presentation of this good as happiness.)

His life includes employment in various ranks to the high position of Chief Examiner for the East India Company, political office in the House of Commons, intense political activity for social rights, especially in advocacy of the rights of women, as well as a steady publication of well regarded philosophical works in logic, the philosophy of science, social science, economic theory, political theory, and moral philosophy.  Posthumous works include a partial biography and three essays on religion.

Utilitarianism

In a nutshell, utilitarianism argues that moral determinations must be made on the consequences of actions.  The affirmative determination (“X is moral / good / right”) would be consequent from the maximization of pleasure; the negative determination (“X is immoral / bad / wrong”), from the maximization of pain or harm. 

Utilitarianism (according to Mill) has two main sets of critics: first, those who argue that one has an inner intuition (a feeling, in a sense) that one is/being/or acting moral or not, and, second, those who argue that there are objective criteria by which to determine universal moral law and judge one’s adherence to such (think of Kant).  The former critics try to strengthen their argument from ‘because I say so’ to appealing to the existence of an objective moral order, ‘nature makes it thus,’ or ‘because God says so,’ but this attempt to strengthen their position only makes them essentially the same as the other camp of critics.  To both, then, Mill can just argue that their arguments simply prove his own—ends are sought because they bring us pleasure/happiness.  This is the base, then, he argues, for ethics.  We should spend less time arguing about the exact first principle and simply judge our actions as virtuous or not based upon the consequences of those actions and their adherence to the general principle that we tend towards the pleasurable and away from the harmful. 

The maximization of pleasure is not an ethics of hedonism (that is, if we take hedonism as something bad, sinful, and wrong).  The pleasure to which we aim is a quality pleasure, not a mere quantity of it (as Bentham’s earlier theory had proposed).  As one Mill scholar writes, “As Mill came to see in his own experience, reading Wordsworth is better as an experience than drinking ale” (Fred Wilson).  The best state would be one wherein we each desired to maximize our own pleasure, and, in so doing, we maximize the pleasure of the whole society; of course, Mill acknowledges this ideal is unlikely.  Regardless, when we find ourselves in moral quandaries, if we consider the greatest pleasure for the greatest number, we can have greater assurance of our act being virtuous.  Thus, the laws for the whole ought to accord with the laws for the individuals.  As logician critics have pointed out, this is a fallacious argument; but, this simply means that utilitarianism’s principle of utility lacks a general justification (see chapter IV for more on this).  As we see in the first chapter, the force of Mill’s thought operates on a lesser degree of concern for these justifications than for the trial and error demonstration of the effectiveness of his theory (more on this, as these notes develop). 

Chapter One: General Remarks

Outline:

I) Critique of the history of ethics

A) Confusion re: first principles ≠ confusion re: consequences

II) Critique of other ethical theories

A) All argue there are first principles and differ only whether these are known a priori or a posteriori

B) Debate whether these are rational (inductive) or instinctive (intuitive) does not make a difference; both require the necessity of general laws; both agree on application of general laws to particular cases; just differ on evidence and source of authority

III) The unity of all the different schools shows the truth of utilitarianism—i.e., the effects of things upon one’s happiness, esp…

IV) Critique of Kant

A) His a priori only proves that we judge by consequences

V) Mill’s aim and methodology

A) Aim: explicate the utilitarian theory

B) Method: 1) nature of considerations; 2) manner how they apply; 3) rational grounds for accepting or rejecting principles, but…

C) Begin with illustrations of doctrine then argue philosophically

Mill begins his Utilitarianism with a review and critique of previous moral theories.  Notice how he posits that the universal amongst these theories is the question concerning the summum bonum (the greatest good); this accords with what we have seen in the start of Aristotle and Kant’s theories.  Notice also how he establishes his theory, utilitarianism, to have its roots in Socrates. 

His first main point in this review and critique is to establish that any confusion about what is the first principle of ethics (what is the greatest good) is not to make us think that there must then be any confusion about the conclusions or consequences of moral action.  Instead, he argues that the details of theories are not deduced from first principles from the start, but that the details are studied and reveal such first principles after.  Whether these principles are known prior to all experience (a priori) or only after experience (a posteriori) hardly even matters (although, were we to label Mill, we would place him closer to the empiricism camp, experience being necessary for the determination of consequences); the fact is that any confusion of what these general laws are does not negate the legitimacy of our determination of the ethical validity of their conclusions.  The relation of the first principles to the workings of the doctrines should not be viewed like “foundations to an edifice, but of roots to a tree, which may perform their office equally well though they be never dug down and exposed to light” (2). 

It may seem he is predominately critiquing a priori foundations for ethics (any sort of meta-ethics), but, he goes on, “The difficulty is not avoided by having recourse to the popular theory of a natural faculty, a sense of instinct, informing us of right and wrong” (2).  This idea is to be dismissed for several reasons, including that senses cannot tell us right and wrong the way that other bodily senses can see or not see, hear or not hear something, but mainly because “it is a branch of our reason, not of our sensitive faculty” that supplies us with the general principles of morality (2).  The rationalist schools and those that presume morality is a matter of sense both actually accede that morality is a matter of “the application of a law to an individual case.  They recognize also … the same moral laws, but differ as to their evidence and the source from which they derive their authority” (2).

Chapter Two:

“What Utilitarianism Is” (pp. 6-26)

Outline:

What is utilitarianism? (6-7)

What is happiness? (7)

Criticism 1: Not Hedonism (7-8)

How do we Judge Pleasures? (8-12)

1. Akrasia (10-1)
   

Criticism 2: Vs. Happiness (12)

1. A) Impossible
   

2. B) Renunciation
   

3. Mill’s response to 2A (12-15)
   

Elimination of Evil (14-15)

1. Mill’s response to 2B (15-17)
   

Greatest Good = For All

How go about this?

Criticism 3: Standard is too High

1. Public and Private Utility
   

Criticism 4: Right and Wrong  Cold, unsympathetic (20-1)

Criticism 5: Godless (21-2)

Criticism 6: Immoral (22-3)

Criticism 7: No time to calculate (23-5)

Criticism 8: Human nature is weak (25)

Utility is not opposed to pleasure—which Mill calls an “ignorant blunder” and “so absurd a misconception” (6).  Utility (from Epicurus to Bentham) means pleasure itself and the avoidance of pain.  Thus, utility means pleasure, which means the agreeable, which means the ornamental, which means that without harm, etc. 

What is Utilitarianism?  “The creed which accepts as the foundation of morals ‘utility’ or the ‘greatest happiness principle’ holds that actions are right in proportion as they tend to promote happiness; wrong as they tend to produce the reverse of happiness” (7).

What is happiness?  “By happiness is intended pleasure and the absence of pain; by unhappiness, pain and the privation of pleasure” (7).

Not Hedonism:  Mill acknowledges that this utilitarian formulation of ethics impassions numerous critics, and also excites too many who misinterpret it as an ethical justification of hedonism—it is neither.  To answer why this is not hedonism, Mill cites Epicurus, who argued that it was not his school, but his critics, who disrespect human nature “since the accusation supposes human beings to be capable of no pleasures except those of which swine are capable” (8). 

And … that “a beast’s pleasures do not satisfy a human being’s conceptions of happiness” (8); our capacities are more developed than those of a pig or beast, thus our expectations of happiness/pleasure are greater and finer.  Pleasures of the intellect, feelings, imagination, and moral sentiments are higher and better than pleasures from sensation alone.  “It is quite compatible with the principle of utility to recognize the fact that some kinds of pleasure are more desirable and more valuable than others” (8).  –This hierarchy of pleasure, judging them upon quality as opposed to quantity, was Mill’s innovation in utilitarianism over Bentham’s version.

Judging Pleasures:

But, how do we judge if pleasure X is better or worse than pleasure Y?  “Of two pleasures, if there be one to which all or almost all who have experience of both give a decided preference, irrespective of any feeling of moral obligation to prefer it, that is the more desirable pleasure” (8).  For example, a fine cup of coffee can be a pleasure; another pleasure can be seeing a long-absent friend.  These are fairly common and comprehensible pleasures; likely, many people have experienced them or very similar things.  If we can say that all or most people will say seeing a long-absent friend is more pleasurable, a better pleasure, than a cup of coffee, then we can safely (in a practical way) judge that to be the better pleasure.

Obviously, this judgment is practically useful and fairly reliable in most cases and is not an universal, logical judgment that will provide one certainty.  The closer we can get to certainty is only when, as Mill goes on to explain, one pleasure is “placed so far above the other that they [most people] prefer it, even though knowing it to be attended with a greater amount of discontent, and would not resign it for any quantity of the other pleasure which their nature is capable of” (8-9).  For example, the pleasure that results from successfully grasping something like a very hard philosophic idea or making it through a very dense canonical work of literature that is clearly more rewarding than the pleasure that comes from a knock-knock joke or drinking an ale.  One may enrich your life, make you see the world in new ways, solve a critical problem, etc., whereas the other will make you smile or bring a fleeting nice sensation. 

This practical means of judgment proves, for Mill, the “unquestionable fact” that most people “give a most marked preference to the manner of existing which employs their higher faculties” (9).  Again, the “proof” is not like one in logic or a scientific law, but is supported by experience: “Few human creatures would consent to be changed into any of the lower animals for a promise of the fullest allowance of a beast’s pleasures; no intelligent human being would consent to be a fool ….  If they ever fancy they would, it is only in cases of unhappiness so extreme that to escape from it would exchange their lot for almost any other, however undesirable in their own eyes” (9).  (He states the same argument a few pages later, “What is there to decide whether a particular pleasure is worth purchasing at the cost of a particular pain, except the feelings and judgment of the experienced?” (11)). 

“A being of higher faculties requires more to make him happy, is capable probably of more acute suffering, and certainly accessible to it at more points, than one of an inferior type; but in spite of these liabilities, he can never really wish to sink into what he feels to be a lower grade of existence” (9).

“It is better to be a human being dissatisfied than a pig satisfied; better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied” (10).

Akrasia:

An objection that may arise is Akrasia (Aristotle’s idea of unrestraint or incontinence) … sometimes, beings capable of higher pleasures will postpone these pleasures, “under the influence of temptation,” in preference for the lower ones (10).  Mill, however, says that this just affirms that some pleasures are better than others; when we yield to temptation, we do it knowing that it is a lower pleasure to which we yield.  It is not a voluntary preference for the lower, but a being seduced into choosing them while knowing they are not the good. 

He also clarifies the point that the standard of judgment is not to only account for the agent’s own greatest happiness, “but the greatest amount of happiness altogether” (11).  Thus, while if all agents choose according to this commonly denoted greatest pleasure, this should yield the greatest happiness for the greatest number, but, also, our judgments determining if something yields more pleasure than harm should not just think of the self, but whether it does so for the greatest number.  (also cf. p.19.)

Happiness is the greatest good and end and the standard of morality for utilitarianism (12).

Another set of critics raise two points against happiness; they argue:

(1) happiness is unattainable  --what right do we have to be happy? 

(2) humanity can do without happiness; the renunciation of it is the beginning and necessary condition for morality.

Mill’s response to the first objection:

Sure, if happiness is impossible, it could not be the ground of ethics.  But… to assert happiness is impossible is “if not something like a verbal quibble, is at least an exaggeration” (13).  If happiness meant a permanent state of highly pleasurable excitement, sure, this may be impossible; but, this is not what happiness means.  Happiness is not a life of rapture, but moments of such in a life that is fairly free from pains and well attended by varying pleasures. 

The satisfied life seems to be constituted by tranquility and excitement.  If one prefers tranquility, they can likely and happily do with very little intense pleasure.  If one prefers excitement, they can likely and happily do with considerable amounts of pain.  But, these two are highly compatible and it is likely that one has fallen to vice if one does not have a life of both.

Happiness is not impossible or unattainable—“Genuine private affections and a sincere interest in the public good are possible, though in unequal degrees, to every rightly brought up human being” (14).  The correct upbringing required is minimal; just a “moderate amount of moral and intellectual requisites” (14).  This person can attain the happy life, so long as something does not keep them from it, be it bad laws, subjection to others, denial of liberty, and physical and/or mental suffering (14-5).

Elimination of Evils:

And, most of these evils can be eliminated from the world—that is, if we keep progressing and encourage the “wisdom of society combined with the good sense and providence of individuals” (15). 

“All the grand sources, in short, of human suffering are in a great degree, many of them almost entirely, conquerable by human care and effort; and though their removal is grievously slow … every mind sufficiently intelligent and generous to bear a part, however small and inconspicuous, in the endeavor with draw a noble enjoyment from the contest itself, which he would not for any bribe in the form of selfish indulgence consent to be without” (15).

This is a grand affirmation of the positive abilities of humankind to create the greatest good.  It is also demonstrative of a “higher pleasure”—the pleasure that comes from working towards the good of all (15). 

Mill’s response to the second objection:

Sure, it is possible to do without happiness.  Most people do so involuntarily.  Occasionally, as in the case of the hero or martyr, some do it voluntarily.  The involuntary cases do not give support to how it should be a choice.  So, consider the heroes and martyrs: they renounce or forsake their own happiness for some reason … what is this reason?  They do this for an end; not as an end in itself.  A martyr is not one who lets himself die for death itself; that is not what we mean by “martyr.”  These people act for some reason.  Thus, what is their end? 

A critic may say it is for virtue, not happiness.  But, is this the case?  “…would the sacrifice be made if the hero or martyr did not believe that it would earn for others immunity from similar sacrifices?” (16). 

And, if one insists that they do it only for it, itself, “He may be an inspiring proof of what men can do, but assuredly not an example of what they should” (16). 

Sacrifice is the highest moral act; “… the conscious ability to do without happiness gives the best prospect of realizing such happiness as is attainable” (16).  Utilitarianism recognizes this; where it differs, however, is that it will not call the sacrifice itself a good; its good, i.e., its aim, is happiness (or the compatible elimination of pain) for others.  “A sacrifice which does not increase or tend to increase the sum total of happiness, it [utilitarianism] considers as wasted” (17). 

The greatest good is for all:

“… the happiness which forms the utilitarian standard of what is right in conduct is not the agent’s own happiness but that of all concerned” (17).  One must be impartial to one’s own pleasure over that possible for others.  The ideal of the utilitarian is Christianity’s golden rule of doing unto others as one would want done unto the self and the compulsion to love one’s neighbor as oneself. 

How do we go about this?

(1) laws and social order should place the happiness/interest of all individuals in harmony with the interests of the whole;

(2) education and opinion should establish this unity of happiness for the self being the happiness of the whole in the mind so that its being otherwise is unthinkable (17). 

Critics: the standard of utilitarianism is too high:

They say that expecting the people to act so as to always consider the greatest good is too high a standard, too hard, too taxing … 

“But this is to mistake the very meaning of a standard of morals and confound the rule of action with the motive of it” (18).  Ethics is to tell us our duties; it does not require that every single action we do must be motivated by the moral feeling of duty.  Most of our actions are driven by other motivations.  (Remember, Utilitarianism’s focus is on consequences!) 

So… if you save a lost puppy, it does not matter to the virtuousness of the act if you are doing this motivated by the hope for a reward, or esteem of your peers, or from the genuine concern for the greatest happiness your action will bring.  (This will effect our moral estimation of one’s character; but it has no bearing on the act being good or bad, and it is this which we concern ourselves with in this ethical system.)

Public and Private Utility (19)

When one can do something that makes good or relieves harm on the grand scale, one should consider public utility.  In other cases, one should consider private utility, the interest and happiness or him/herself and the few around him/her directly impacted.

Criticism 4: Right and Wrong  Cold, unsympathetic (20-1)

Utilitarians admit there are other desirable qualities besides virtues; that there are many other characteristics to people worthy of praise.

Some are cold, but some are cold in all ethical calculations.  Utilitarianism not unique in this way.

Some are puritanical enforcers some are extremely lax; people vary; their means of implementing these formulas will vary. 

Criticism 5: Godless (21-2)

It is pious, so long as we trust that what this means is that God is loving and desires the happiness of His creatures.  It is true that it does not posit God as the direct authority giving us the law, but, if we consider what God has granted us in wisdom, etc., as good, then it is well used in the utilitarian ethic, thus, we decide the law based upon our reason, but our being and reason come from Him, thus, it is not Godless.

Criticism 6: Immoral (22-3)

Sometimes the right thing to do is inherently bad/vice; sometimes the wrong thing to do is done with good intentions.  This reflects upon one’s character, not the act. 

Criticism 7: No time to calculate (23-5)

We can build upon our past experiences to make new decisions quickly.  We already have so many moral questions decided.

Criticism 8: Human nature is weak (25)

The arguments herein general say we are weak and bad by nature, so we will not always consider others, or be too lenient in judgments for getting what we want, etc.  Mill responds that cheating our consciences is not solely a possibility in utilitarianism, but in all ethical systems and situations.  If we try the best we can with this formula, we are likely to have it work well for us; just as we judge by utility, utility can judge better and weaker ways to respond.

Chapter Three:

Of the Ultimate Sanction of the Principle of Utility

I) Utilitarian principle will ultimately make character good (27-8)

II) Sanctions (28-9):

A) External:

1) Hope of Favor from fellow humans and from God

2) Fear of Displeasure from fellow humans and from God

B) Internal:

1) Conscientious feeling: mainly pain of violation of duty with:

2) Collateral associations of sympathy, religious feeling, and self-esteem

III) Subjective vs. Objective Sanctions (29-30)

IV) Criticism vs. (Utilitarian) Subjective Sanction: feeling vanish = duty vanish?

V) Duty (30-32):

A) Innate: pleasure or pain of others

B) Acquired:

1) Natural (Mill’s answer)

2) Wholly artificial: would vanish with feeling

3) But, Acquired duty is natural: base of happiness on social feeling

VI) Social Development of Happiness / Unity (32-34)

I) Utilitarian principle will ultimately make character good (27-8)

Mill begins with the question(s) as to what is the sanction of any moral theory, especially, of Utilitarianism?  What motives does a theory give us so as to compel us to obey it?  What is the source of a moral theory’s obligation?  From what does it derive its compulsion, its binding force?  Any moral theory ought to address these questions.  And, Mill says, especially so when one is beginning to adopt a moral theory and is looking for the reason why one ought to do so, that is, ought to act perhaps against their inclinations or habits. 

He the addresses what he was at pains to differentiate Utilitarianism from in the earlier chapters—whereas, there, he stressed that one was to pay attention to the consequences of actions to determine whether they are right or wrong, and not one’s intention in or for acting; now, he directly addresses the linkage between the Utilitarian principle of determining right and wrong and how this practice will eventually make a person, him or herself, good.  That is, ultimately, following the Utilitarian principle for long enough and well enough will make one’s character good. 

II) Sanctions (28-9):  There are two types: external and internal sanctions.

A) External:  not as important—although, he does go on to more detail:

1) Hope of Favor from fellow humans and from God

2) Fear of Displeasure from fellow humans and from God

Thus, we can posit as an external sanction our desire to gain favor or not being upon ourselves displeasure in others by consequence of our actions, thus this will make us act rightly, or we can have the “religious motive” and be concerned with whether God will approve or disapprove of our actions.  Hopefully, this pain and pleasure motivation will encourage education and general cultivation to further aid us in doing right and making it custom and character.

B) Internal:  more important for Mill

1) Conscientious feeling: mainly pain of violation of duty with:

2) Collateral associations of sympathy, religious feeling, and self-esteem

The internal sanction is a feeling in our own minds—a pain from violation of duty, a pleasure from fulfilling duty, which the properly cultivated person feels.  This is “the essence of conscience,” although he is quick to add that this simple explanation belies the true complexity of how the feeling is actually, concretely felt: as terribly complex. It has the collateral associations of sympathy, that is, love and fear, of religious feeling, of recollections of our past feelings, and of self-esteem, that is the desire for esteem from others and the occasional abasement from the self.

This feeling is so intense and motivating, that we often ascribe it to a loft, even mystical height—making it into a universal or natural law. 

“The ultimate sanction, therefore, of all morality (external motives apart) being a subjective feeling in our own minds … What is the sanction of that particular standard? … the conscientious feelings of mankind” (29).

III) Subjective vs. Objective Sanctions (29-30)

But, of course, a critic may challenge us as to the true power of the sanction being so subjective—a feeling we have—this lacks the force of an universal, objective standard. 

Even if we ascribe an ultimate source of this sanction in God, Mill argues, this still only operates through the subjective feeling of the religious motivation. 

IV) Criticism vs. (Utilitarian) Subjective Sanction: feeling vanish = duty vanish?

A critic may further complain about the subjective feeling being the moral sanction because one may presume that if the feeling vanishes, then the moral obligation vanishes—thus, for example, if you first feel that robbery is immoral, but then, you slowly begin to feel that robbing a bank is not so bad a thing, that when the feeling of prohibition completely vanishes (yes, one should rob a bank), then the moral duty to not steal vanishes. 

Mill responds that this sort of critique plagues all moral theories, not just those with a subjective sanction—for all, “conscience can be silenced or stifled” (30).  Those who are so weak so as to ask whether or not they ought to obey their conscience are weak in general, and are no matter what moral theory to which they may ascribe. 

He will come back to a further argument against this criticism, but, first he digresses to build support for the further argument into the question as to whether the feeling of duty is innate or acquired. 

V) Duty (30-32):

He first says that he needs not to even debate or determine the answer to this question, but then goes on to pursue it a little further anyway: is the feeling of moral duty innate or acquired?

A) Innate: pleasure or pain of others

“If there be anything innate in the matter, I see no reason why the feeling which is innate should not be that of regard to the pleasures and pains of others” (30)—thus, if the feeling of moral duty is innate, it may simply be an innate attention to and concern with the pain and pleasure of other beings (esp. those affected by one’s actions). 

B) Acquired:

If, on the other hand, the feeling of moral duty is not innate, but one acquired by a person, he argues that “they are not for that reason the less natural” (31)—in the same way as we acquire the ability to speak English or French, to build cities, to cultivate gardens, we acquire the faculty to feel moral duty—this acquisition does not mean these faculties are not natural to us: as humans, we naturally speak, build, cultivate, have moral feelings. 

It can spring up naturally and can be cultivated to a high degree of development.  Unfortunately, just as something can be cultivated correctly, it can also be cultivated to do wrong, instead of right. 

Now—returning to the criticism above about subjective sanctions being prey to having moral obligation vanish if the moral feeling vanishes—if the moral feeling was wholly artificial, then, yes, moral duty would seem to dissolve when the feeling was dissolved. 

But—Mill argues, this is not what moral feeling is—the moral feeling of duty is acquired, but it is natural—there is a basis, a strong, stable, natural one, for the moral feeling: “This firm foundation is that of the social feelings of mankind—the desire to be in unity with our fellow creatures, which is already a powerful principle in human nature, and happily one of those which tend to become stronger, even without express inculcation, from the influences of advancing civilization” (32). 

“… everyone is obliged to live on these terms with somebody …” (32).  For Mill, the continued development of society increases the interdependency of all members on one another and one comes to be conscious of oneself as a being conscious and conscientious of others.  “The good of others becomes to him a thing naturally and necessarily to be attended to, like any of the physical conditions of our existence” (33). 

What do you think of this?  Is it utopic?  Is it especially true today, as we become more and more a ‘global society’? 

VI) Social Development of Happiness / Unity (32-34)

This line of argumentation ties naturally into the last main point about encouraging the social development of happiness, here, especially synonymous with the feeling of unity.  While if the feeling of moral duty is an acquired feeling, it shows itself particularly susceptible to the careful development and cultivation of it (no one can say, eh, it was in his nature or genes or DNA to be a murderer or a saint or an X, Y, Z, and act as if one had no capacity and thus responsibility to try and be otherwise), he particularly addresses a topic that seems more addressed to the moral feeling being innate, as in given by religion. 

What if, he wonders, if the feeling of unity is to be taught as a religion and thus this then directed all education, institution, and opinion to the profession and practice of it, would this be a good thing?  He replies that he cannot fathom anyone having misgivings about the sufficiency of the utilitarian principle to make for right action that is repeated until formative of right character.   

He refers us to M. Comte’s Traité de Politique Positive, whose politics he abhors, but advocates a bound system of morals minus providence in such a way to demonstrate the excessively positive capacity of such well serving humanity. 

And, he adds, the individual does not have to wait until society at large is bound favorably by the good that can come from the Utilitarian principle; each can do this in one’s own life and own way and make themselves and those around them benefit from it (34).

“This conviction [that one feels one is acting rightly] is the ultimate sanction of the greatest happiness morality” (34).  This feeling makes one work with, and not against, others; it increases good action by external sanction and by internal sanction.  Both are powerful binding forces that make us adhere to the principle in such a way it is nearly unthinkable that one could against the well-being of the self and others. 

Chapter Four:

Of What sort of Proof the Principle

of Utility is Susceptible

Outline:

I) How do we prove ultimate ends?

A) Cannot, in the normal sense of proof

B) How show happiness is desirable (end)?

1) X is desirable if people desire X

II) Happiness is clearly a good, an end a moral criterion

III) How show it is the good, the end, the sole moral criterion?

IV) Virtue vs. Happiness (38-9)

A) Virtue is a part of happiness—happiness is a conglomerate of all pleasures put together, thus means and ends both.

V) Proof:

A) human nature desires parts of happiness or means to happiness;

B) happiness or the desired is the sole end of action;

C) promotion of happiness is how we judge theory;

D) thus it is a criterion of happiness

VI) Criticism: Will ≠ Desire (39):

VII) Mill’s Response: Agreed (40-41):

A) Will is born from desire but can detach from it and become habit

B) Three types of will as habit

C) How do we strengthen habit of right into being right?

1) Reintroduce desire via reawakening of pain or pleasure

I) How do we prove ultimate ends?

A) Cannot, in the normal sense of proof—

As Mill has already addressed, questions of ends do not admit of proof in the normal sense; this holds for all first principles of knowledge and of conduct.  He argues that the former, first principles of knowledge, being “matters of fact,” can be evaluated by the judging faculty, which works through the senses and internal consciousness.  He then asks if this same means of judgment can evaluate the first principles of conduct, and, if not, is there another faculty which can do so?

B) How can one show that happiness is desirable?

This is the question being asked when one asks questions about ends.  “The utilitarian doctrine is, that happiness is desirable, and the only thing desirable, as an end; all other things being only desirable as means to that end” (IV).  What does this doctrine have to demonstrate in order prove that it is something to be believed?

1) X is desirable if people desire X

Mill argues that the only proof possible that an object is visible is if it can be seen.

The only proof possible that a sound is audible is if it can be heard.

The only proof possible that something is desirable is whether people desire it.

II) Happiness is clearly a good, an end, a moral criterion

“No reason can be given why the general happiness is desirable, except that each person, so far as he believes it to be attainable, desires his own happiness” (IV).  But, by the fact that this is so, it is viable proof.  “…happiness is a good: … each person’s happiness is a good to that person, and the general happiness, therefore, a good to the aggregate of all persons” (IV).

III) …But… How show it is the good, the end, the sole moral criterion?

It seems like it would be necessary to show that not only do people desire happiness, but they only desire happiness, and not anything else.  But, of course, it seems that people do desire other things, for example, virtue and the absence of vice, pleasure and the absence of pain.  The desire for virtue is not as universal as the desire for happiness, but it is something desired. 

Thus, critics to utilitarianism will argue that there are other objects of desire, hence, happiness is not our sole end, thus, happiness cannot be the standard by which to judge right and wrong. 

IV) Virtue vs. Happiness (38-9)

But, Mill responds to these critics, utilitarianism does not deny that people also desire virtue; it argues that virtue should be desired, and disinterestedly, for itself.  Of course, Utilitarians will debate as to what makes something virtuous, but whatever that may be, they make it the premier good that is a means to the ultimate end, even if the individual sees it as an end in itself (expanded below).  To think virtue is a good in itself makes the best state of a character most conducive to the cultivation of the greatest good.  “This opinion is not, in the smallest degree, a departure from the Happiness principle” (IV).

A) Virtue is a means to and a part of happiness—happiness is a conglomerate of all pleasures put together, thus, both means to and parts of the end of happiness.

“The ingredients of happiness are very various, and each of them is desirable in itself, and not merely when considered as swelling an aggregate” (IV).  In other words, we can see something that contributes to happiness as a part of happiness, even as it can be considered as an independent end in itself.  The pleasure of music, the freedom for pain, etc., are to be desired as pleasurable things in themselves; they are not to be considered mere pieces to add into happiness.  Thus, they are means as well as parts of the end. 

Virtue is not an original or natural part of the ultimate end of happiness, but it is capable of being one of its parts.  If one loves virtue as an end in itself, and this brings them pleasure, then it is not just a means to happiness, but a part of it.  Thus, it can be a means to happiness or it can be a part of one’s happiness.

For example: virtue is not the only thing that was originally a means to happiness that then became an end in itself as it was desired for itself; another such thing is money.  Originally, money, being a mere “heap of glittering pebbles,” was only a means to the end of happiness.  The worth of the rock, metal, paper, etc. of the currency in no way equals that which it can buy.  However, many people have come to desire money in itself, its accumulation, and not just what it can be used as a tool to get, “… the desire to possess it is often stronger than the desire to use it …” (IV).  Money, then, to these has become a part of happiness, rather than a means to happiness.  Power and fame operate similarly. 

“Happiness is not an abstract idea, but a concrete whole; and these are some of its parts” (IV).

V) Proof:

    A) human nature desires parts of happiness or means to happiness;

Human nature is so constituted as to desire only a part of or means to happiness; if this is so, no other proof is possible or needed to verify that:

    B) happiness or the desired is the sole end of action; (and, that the…)

    C) promotion of happiness is how we judge theory;

    D) thus happiness is a criterion of happiness

In order to then determine if this claim about human nature is so, we can only turn to the questions of fact and experience, and must look to evidence.  The evidence, he states with clear brevity, is obvious in its demonstration that desired things are things we find pleasant and things not desired are things we find abhorrent.  Thus, desire and pleasant are one in the same, as are their opposites one.  We can only desire something in proportion to which we find it pleasant. 

VI) Criticism: Will ≠ Desire (39):

The above, about desiring what is pleasant, is beyond critique, he argues.  However, a critic will charge that will is not the same as desire.  This argument continues and is made so as to propose that the person who is truly virtuous does not desire virtue, but wills virtue—s/he carries out virtue with no thought of its pleasantness. 

VII) Mill’s Response: Agreed (40-41)—will is not the same as desire

A) Will is born from desire but can detach from it and become habit

Will is an active phenomenon; desire is a passive sensibility.  But, will is an offshoot from desire.  As is the case in habits, we often will something habitual, without desiring that which is done.  Motive-driven action can become mere habit-driven action; this is the change from desire to will.   

B) Three types of will as habit

1) something done from unconscious habit, where the consciousness comes after the action;

2) something done from conscious volition, but the volition has become habitual and activated by the force of habit (e.g., in habits of vicious or hurtful indulgence);

3) something done habitually, but its action is not contrary to the intentions had at other times in regard to the something done (e.g., this is the case of a virtuous person and all who deliberately pursue a determinate end).

In its origin, will is a part of desire, but this shows that will, like other faculties, is given to habit; we can will from habit even after we no longer will from desire. 

C) How do we strengthen habit of right into being right?

In the case of the person who is weak in their virtuous constitution, who is given to temptation; how can one strengthen this habituated willing into something stronger?

            1) Reintroduce desire via reawakening of pain or pleasure

Thus, one needs to make the person desire virtue, not merely do right acts.  One needs to do this by associating pleasure with virtue and pain with vice. 

Habit gives us our sense of familiarity and certainty; so, our habits should be reliably right.  The will to do right should be pleasant; it is a means to the good. 

Mill concludes by saying this is his proof; it is the only possible proof, but is also fully sufficient proof for the validity of the utilitarian principle.  Further determination and judgment must “be left to the consideration of the thoughtful reader” (IV).

Chapter Five:

On the Connection between Justice and Utility

Outline:

I) Introduction to importance of idea of justice and what we must study about it (42-3)

II) Common attributes of justice (five cases) (43-45):

1. A) legal rights
   

2. B) moral rights
   

3. C) deserves
   

4. D) breaking faith
   

5. E) partiality
   

III) Equality (46-47)

IV) Etymology of Justice (47-48)

V) Duty (48-50)

1. A) Duties of perfect obligation
   

2. B) Duties of imperfect obligation
   

VI) Difference between duties parallels that between morality and expediency (50)

1. A) definition of justice
   

VII) Feeling of justice from human nature or from justice itself (50-53)?

1. A) Feeling of justice is not from idea of expediency, but whatever is moral in it does arise from this idea of expediency
   

2. B) Two ingredients in justice: desire to punish and an individual harmed
   

3. 1) both from impulse to self-defense and feeling of sympathy;
   

4. 2) both are natural: both animally natural and naturally from higher faculties that consider self as part of a community;
   

5. 3) desire to punish has nothing moral about it
   

6. 4) the feelings of the self in community is moral (benefit of collective interest)
   

7. C) Recapitulation:
   

8. 1) Justice supposes:
   

9. a) rule of conduct –must be supposed as common to all humankind and intended for their good;
   

10. b) sentiment that sanctions the rule –the desire that punishment may be suffered by those who infringe upon the rule; animal desire to retaliate a harm done to self or those with whom one sympathizes; from this animal desire the feeling gains its peculiarity and its intensity; this ‘self and others’ is expanded to include all persons; from this expansion, the feeling of justice gains its moral character;
    

11. c) an individual harmed by the infringement –their rights were violated by said infringement;
    

VIII) Right (53-4)

1. A) “To have a right, then, is I conceive, to have something which society ought to defend me in the possession of.  If the objector goes on to ask why it ought, I can give him no other reason than general utility” (54).
   

IX) Justice is too ambiguous otherwise—i.e., Mill’s argument is correct about the sentiment in justice that is moral ties to utility (55-59)

1. A) Examples of justice’s ambiguity: who punishment is good for, contract theory is a fiction, retribution models of eye for eye or proportionate to act, talent deserving higher remuneration, taxation –all show ambiguity and can only be solved by appealing to utilitarian principle.
   

X) Is the difference between justice and utility false (59-64)?

1. A) No …  There is more to justice than what is grounded on utility;
   

2. B) But …  Only what is grounded on utility is moral.
   

I) Introduction to importance of idea of justice and what we must study about it (42-3)

“In all ages of speculation one of the strongest obstacles to the reception of the doctrine that utility or happiness is the criterion of right and wrong has been drawn from the idea of justice” (42).

Most people want to affirm that justice is inherent in things and nature and different from their utility and, thus, potential to maximize happiness.  However, Mill argues, this feeling of justice might be particular and distinct, but must be controlled and enlightened by a higher reason. 

Thus, we must determine “… whether the reality to which the feeling of justice corresponds is one which needs any such special revelation, whether the justice or injustice of an action is a thing intrinsically peculiar and distinct from its other qualities or only a combination of certain of those qualities presented under a peculiar aspect” (42-3).

In other words, first, it is most important to determine whether the feeling of justice or injustice in itself like the sensation of color or taste, or is it a feeling formed by a combination of other feelings or sensations?  People want to say its origin is distinct, and thus superiorly binding than the principle of utility.  Thus, we have to determine if there is a distinguishing character of justice.  What is this character or quality that can unite all instances of justice or injustice?  What is it about some right things that we call just, whereas others may be right, but not just; what is it about some wrong things that we call unjust, whereas others may be wrong, but not unjust? 

If we find one quality or a combination of qualities that make something just or unjust, then we can judge if this is part of our emotional constitution or human nature or whether it is an inexplicable feeling and needs to be determined as a special provision of nature.  If it is part of our human nature, we have resolved the main problem; if it is not, we need a new way to investigate it. 

II) Common attributes of justice (five cases) (43-45):

To begin: we need to look at concrete cases of the just and unjust to find if and what their common attributes may be (43):

(1) “… it is mostly considered unjust to deprive anyone of his personal liberty, his property, or any other thing which belongs to him by law” (44).  In essence, this is the violation of one’s legal rights.  There are, of course, exceptions to when we would call this unjust, for example, when one has forfeited his rights before their having been deprived.

(2) “… the legal rights of which he is deprived may be rights which ought not to have belonged to him …” (44); for example, the rights given him may have come from a bad law.  When a bad law extends one rights that are then deprived one, some may say it is just or some may say it is unjust to infringe upon the law.  Those who argue it is unjust to infringe, even upon a bad law, argues that no law, no matter how bad, ought to be disobeyed by an individual.  If an individual acts against the law, it should be in its accord so as to get the proper authority to change it.  Those who argue that it is just to infringe upon a bad law argues that the individual who acts against it is blameless.  Both parties, however, agree that law is not the ultimate criterion of justice; this suggests a difference between legal rights and moral rights.  Thus, this second case seems to concern the injustice of infringing upon one’s moral right (44-5). 

(3) “… it is universally considered just that each person should obtain that (whether good or evil) which he deserves, and unjust that he should obtain a good or be made to undergo an evil which he does not deserve” (45). 

Mill asserts this to be the clearest and most insisted upon form of the feeling of justice: one gets what one deserves.  Generally, this means one deserves something good if one does right and one deserves something evil if one does wrong. 

(4) “… it is confessedly unjust to break faith with anyone …” (45); this is a violation of trust or one’s word, as in a violation of engagement or agreement either expressly or implicitly made, as well as disappointing expectations.  There are exceptions here, too; if the other party forfeits their right to our obedience, then it is not an obligation of justice.

(5) “… it is, by universal admission, inconsistent with justice to be partial—to show favor or preference to one person over another in matters to which favor and preference do not properly apply” (45). 

This is a command to impartiality, but such is not a duty in itself, but seen as an instrument to some other duty (thus, there are accepted exceptions, such as greater blame or praise given in certain circumstances, like less blame if one favored one’s family over strangers, even if the matter did not call for preference to play a role; however, a judge showing partiality would be harder to forgive). 

III) Equality (46-47)

These are the five cases Mill clearly lays out for us to examine, but adds to the last idea by a discussion of equality (46).  “Nearly allied to the idea of impartiality is that of equality, which often enters as a component part both into the conception of justice and into the practice of it, and, in the eyes of many persons, constitutes its essence” (46). 

However, Mill quickly adds, concerning equality, we see the greatest diversity of opinions as to what it means.  Everyone claims equality is essential to justice, except, of course, when it interferes with what is expedient, wherein injustice is warranted.  He cites the example of the absurdity of forcefully commanding each has equal protection to the rights of all, even when the rights given are radically unequal.  Mill offers numerous examples (for example, all will argue a slave has the same right to what is permitted him as a master has the right to what is permitted him, despite the fact that the rights permitted to each are so imbalanced) to show just how ambiguous are our ideas of equality.

Thus, “Among so many diverse applications of the term ‘justice,’ which yet is not regarded as ambiguous, it is a matter of some difficulty to seize the mental link which holds them together, and on which the moral sentiment adhering to the term essentially depends” (47).  In other words, we hold on to some notion that “justice” is perfectly clear and objective, yet we use it in so many divergent and conflicting ways. 

IV) Etymology of Justice (47-48)

Thus, he looks to its etymology to help determine the original meaning of the term.  Etymology shows him that all origins point to or are connected to the idea of the ordinances of law. 

A refinement of this insight lets him assert: “And hence the sentiment of injustice came to be attached not to all violations of law, but only to violations of such laws as ought to exist …” (47).  Thus, it adheres to the idea of law, even when the law itself does not always accord with our idea of the just and the unjust, because such just laws do not exist, or bad laws do exist.  Even when we do not want laws to interfere with all aspects of our life, we still believe that our conduct shows our accord with right and wrong.  We also think that some wrongs should not be dealt with by law.  Likely, we fear granting too much authority and power to a single source. 

“Thus the idea of legal constraint is still the generating idea of the notion of justice, though undergoing several transformations before that notion as it exists in an advanced state of society becomes complete” (48). 

This discussion so far, Mill decides, seems true about the origins and progress of the idea of justice, however, it does not show anything that can identify and distinguish justice from morality in general (48).

V) Duty (48-50)

The “real turning point” between morality and expediency is a part of the notion of duty—duty is seen like a debt that one can exact from each individual (otherwise we don’t call something one’s duty).  There are things that people do or don’t do that make us like or not like them, but these can be separated from those things that we expect a person to do or not and for which we hold them accountable.  This separates morality from all other sentiments of expediency, but it does not yet address how justice is distinct from morality (49).

Ethics divides duties of perfect obligation from duties of imperfect obligation (49).    

--duties of perfect obligation: action is obligatory, and its specifics are fairly dictated; duties in which a correlative right resides in some person(s);

--duties of imperfect obligation: action is obligatory, but how we do it is left up to us, e.g. charity, we ought to do it, but not dictated to whom and when and under what constraints; do not give right to rights in some person(s).

VI) Difference between duties parallels that between morality and expediency (50)

Mill argues that the difference between these two types of duties coincides with the difference between justice and morality’s other obligations.  The cases above generally show the idea of a personal right—there is a wrong done and a somebody to whom the wrong was done.  “Justice implies something which it is not only right to do, and wrong not to do, but which some individual person can claim from us as his moral right” (50). 

VII) Feeling of justice from human nature or from justice itself (50-53)?

Mill now moves to the consideration of whether the feeling of justice is connected to justice by human nature or if it has grown up out of the ideas of justice itself.  In particular, he wants to determine if the feeling of justice could have originated in the consideration of general expediency (i.e., in the principle of utility). 

... More coming soon ...